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First ripe tomatoes of the summer. About time.
This is the first part in a series of posts where I grill meat in my backyard.
I like grilling. Meat. In my backyard. I’ve got an old, beat up Weber kettle grill. One of the wheels is missing a cap, so whenever I roll the kettle its legs always pop out, spilling the grill proper onto the ground. One time, while grilling, I moved it slightly (to account for the smoke I was suffusing onto my tomato plants) and had to perform a bear hug save of the grill’s current contents…and proceeded to singe the living fuck out of my forearms.
Though I often entertain the idea of getting an obscene, propane monstrosity replete with dual side burners, refrigerated drawers, and scrotum massager, I quickly abandon such nonsense. Why waste the money when the Weber works just fine? I just shouldn’t be so stupid as to embrace a burning sphere of metal just to save a few medium rare strip steaks. Or maybe I can visit the hardware store and purchase a 25 cent wheel cap.
I do much of my grilling next to my garden, which in the summer features many green and tasty herbs, including chives, mint, thyme, rosemary, sage, parsley, and basil.
As such, one of my favorite all-purpose marinades simply features a smattering of these herbs (chopped or whole), oil, acid, and seasonings.
Grilled Spatchcocked Chicken
Spatchcocking is a nice option for grilling a whole chicken. Spatchcocking, for the uninitiated, is not a sadistic, fraternity hazing ritual, but rather the act of cutting out the bird’s backbone (preferably with heavy duty kitchen shears) to leave a flat carcass. Which is much more friendly for grilling evenly. And deliciously.
- One whole chicken
- Assorted chopped fresh herbs
- 5-6 cloves minced garlic
- Olive oil
- One lemon
- Sea salt
- Cracked black pepper
- Smoked paprika
First thing: spatch the living cock out of that fucking chicken. This dude can show you how1.
Sprinkle the bird with chopped herbs, garlic, and salt and pepper both sides. Pour oil to coat, and squeeze lemon. Using your hands, rub gently to mix in and settle the marinade. Sprinkle the top side of the chicken with smoked paprika, and allow to sit in the fridge for a few hours (or more).
Prepare your grill, dumping coals on one side. Grill chicken, 15-20 minutes per side, turning often, moving alternately from hot and cool side of kettle, covering and removing said cover as need be.
You know, grilling.
1 However, I advise that you don’t search for more spatchcocking videos on Youtube, as it’s (evidently) a common move for strippers and, subsequently, home workout enthusiasts. Unless, of course, you want to hazard the wife walking into your office (to change the cat litter), only to discover some guy watching grainy amateur video featuring a skinny Jersey goth spreading her legs 180 degrees while straddling a long, metallic pole. And you can live with the results. Which in my case it’s the usual askew glance of tepid disgust and then eventual disregard.
I visited the John’s Landing Zupan’s recently. When I worked in the area a few years back, I’d regularly patronage the sandwich counter centered in the market. What I appreciated most was their wilingness to pile on “N” number of meats if you checked their corresponding boxes off on the Zupan’s sandwich order/SAT form. The fine folk who work the Zupan’s deli entrepôt are willing to generously indulge my gluttonous penchant for over-accessorizing the sandwich, more so than other upscale markets about town. Which is why I give Zupan’s an official “AAAA++++ WOULD BUY AGAIN!!!!!” rating in my 2010 Upscale Market a La Carte Deli Sandwich Rankings.
U.S. restaurants starved for business. (LA Times)
The number of restaurants operating nationwide dropped this year for the first time in more than a decade, a survey shows, with California accounting for almost a third of the losses.
Oyster Herpes Deaths Tied to Global Warming. (Discovery News)
A new, virulent form of herpes is killing large numbers of Pacific oysters. Scientists think global warming may be fueling the virus.
Today is International Beer Day. For those who enjoy craft brews, you can thank that fucking commie cocksucker Jimmy Carter:
To make a long story short, prohibition led to the dismantling of many small breweries around the nation. When prohibition was lifted, government tightly regulated the market, and small scale producers were essentially shut out of the beer market altogether. Regulations imposed at the time greatly benefited the large beer makers. In 1979, Carter deregulated the beer industry, opening back up to craft brewers. As the chart below illustrates, this had a really amazing effect on the beer industry:
There’s a chart and everything.
It’s a fucking awesome market. If I lived in downtown Seattle, I’d shop here pretty much daily.
Pike Place Public Market
Seattle and stuff. Next to the water. If you’re in the water, you’ve gone too far.
Tombo tuna crudo with ice lettuce. The tuna was sliced carpaccio-style, and sprinkled with an herb that gave it an anise-y/juniper note.
Steak tartare. Always a crowd pleaser.
Though it’s difficult to determine from this photo, this skirt steak with grilled cherry tomatoes and charred scallions was the hit of the night. God I love skirt steak.
Bavette steak with arugula and romesco.
I like Laurelhurst market. It’s unpretentious, straightforward, and the meat is delicious and well-priced. Many consider this a “steakhouse” but I don’t think it falls under that rubric in the conventional sense. It’s just a great neighborhood restaurant that happens to feature a variety of excellent cuts of beef that you can also purchase, in-house, at the front of the “market”. Add a great bar with excellent house-made tonic to mix with your local spirits, and you have quintessential Portland.
Laurelhurst Market on THE WORLD WIDE WEB
The Goodist has been here
PortlandFood.org
Laurelhurst Market
3155 East Burnside Street
Portland, OR 97214-1951
(503) 206-3099
Cannon Beach is a gem of a seaside town situated on the northern Oregon coast. Ecola Seafoods Restaurant & Market, located just off the main northern strip of downtown Cannon Beach, is similarly gem-like due to the fact you can get a mean, local sea-protein cocktail at 10am while everyone else is waiting for 45 minutes at the Pig ‘N Pancake for corn syrup-laden starches pancakes and factory protein just minutes away.
Silly people. Your species will never learn.
Then again, I could have just walked halfway out to this rock:
And just grabbed my own damn breakfast.
Who is the idiot now? Invariably it is me.
Ecola Seafoods Restaurant & Market on THE WORLD WIDE WEB
- Roadfood.com
- Also, this place has a Yelp* entry but I refuse to link to Yelp because many of its inhabitants appear to be scantily clad, near-violent homunculi. Just like Facebook.
Ecola Seafoods Restaurant & Market
208 N Spruce St
Cannon Beach, OR 97110
(503) 436-9130
Liveblogging my $6 breakfast sandwich courtesy of Alaskan Airlines wi-fi.
I wonder if there’s actual human in this.
In case you’re looking for it.
Wong’s King, a Cantonese/Dim Sum stalwart in southeast Portland, recently opened a Beaverton outpost. I stopped by for a bowl of wonton soup and some soup dumplings.
Very nice to have decent soup dumplings available in the vicinity.
Wong King’s Beaverton
10743 Sw Beaverton Hillsdale Hwy
Beaverton, OR 97005
503-350-1888
Governor Schwarzenegger Signs Landmark Egg Bill into Law. (Human Society)
Tuesday, Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger signed landmark legislation that protects animal welfare and food safety. The new law requires that shelled (whole) eggs sold in California comply with the modest but important food safety and animal welfare standards of Proposition 2. Passed in a 2008 landslide, Prop 2 phases out production of eggs from hens crammed into cages.
The bill, A.B. 1437, requires that all whole eggs sold in California as of Jan. 1, 2015, come from hens able to stand up, fully extend their limbs, lie down and spread their wings without touching each other or the sides of their enclosure, thus requiring cage-free conditions for the birds.
This is good.
Tigard’s Hmart opens sharply at 9 a.m.
If you get there early, you’ll be able to meet a fresh batch of jap chae as it comes out of the kitchen, just in front of the deli case. Breakfast is served. For $2.99.
Thanh Thao Market, located on a strip of Northeast Sandy in the Rose City district, may not be Portland’s largest Vietnamese market or it’s most varied (in terms of sheer selection), but—since I’ve moved here over eight years ago—it’s been the market I’ve appreciated the greatest.
You’ll find Thanh Thao has all the dried goods and noodles you’ll ever really need, meticulously arranged throughout their shelves.
The meat department features all the primal cuts favored by discerning Vietnamese cooks.
I love their dressed and pre-sliced meats that ease the homestyle pho prep.
The seafood department may not feature any filets, but you can satisfy your whole fish fetish quite soundly here. A quick nod to the fishmonger and, after weighing your fish, he will use the bandsaw to cut the fins and tail off and section your cleaned fish into nice manageable chunks for your next canh chua.
The frozen meat section also features a wide variety of compartmentalized carcasses from the land and the sea.
Their superlative produce section is stocked with all the vegetables, fresh herbs, handmade noodles, and eggs that make up an essential component of any Southeast Asian cook’s repertoire.
You’ll be able to score your next claypot in their very small housewares nook.
The true area where Thanh Thao shines, however, is their deli department.
Caramel catfish, canh chua, stuffed bitter melon, whole roast duck, roast pork, and other hot savory and sweet delights are available by the pound.
And right in front of the cashier, a refrigerated “island” is chock full of Vietnamese favorites, ready to take-and-go.
Each time I hit up Thanh Thao for groceries, I find it irresistible to not pick up a loaf of cha chien (fried cha lua/Viet bologna) and a $5 package of banh cuon.
And construct my own dish at home, punching it up with fresh herbs, blanched bean sprouts, cucumbers, chili-spiked nuoc cham, and chopped peanuts. I can stretch three meals like this out the affair. Seriously.
Thanh Thao Market
6517 NE Sandy Blvd
Portland, OR 97213
Neighborhood: Northeast Portland
(503) 284-4129
Gourmet Magazine Revived for the iPad. (NY Times)
Limbaugh attacks school lunches, suggests hungry children should “dumpster dive”.
Here’s an idea: why don’t you dumpster dive for oxycontin and viagra behind Eli Lilly’s HQ, and while you’re at the bottom you can suck a bag of dicks, you sanctimonious, lying sack of rat feces.
ExtraMSG over at Portlandfood.org a while ago gave a firm shoutout to Canby’s Taqueria Uruapan. Considering I work in “SoPo” (or as the locals call it, “Wilsonville”) during the daylight hours I figured I’d drag a couple co-workers down to the see what was cooking in Portland’s southern hinterlands.
If you’ve never travelled into Canby proper before, it’s easy to miss as Uruapan is a bit adrift amongst the folksy anachronism that is rustic, downtown Canby. The taqueria nestles adjacent to a Burgerville, which is itself just beyond a Safeway strip mall (fronted by Quizno’s and Panda Express), and if you spot the Taco Bell you’ve driven too far.
Uruapan is pretty awesome inside. Allow me explain.
First, they got a menu picture board, which is the first thing you need to do in order to be awesome. Then there’s a Neo Geo arcade console to the left of the ordering counter. Personally, if I wanted to take a confident, second step towards being awesome, this would be a capital purchase I would strongly consider.
Next up is a jukebox stocked with the latest Sinaloan narco-ballads. Also a television is constantly tuned to Spanish telenovas. And there are babies just chilling out in their rocking chairs, or the employee/owner’s kids feeding quarters into the Neo Geo or just whimsically hanging out, all the time. All these things are awesome.
Then you see that there are two pool tables. They also serve beer. Not only has awesomeness been cemented, but we’ve entered a state of existence that cannot be pigeonholed with the rubrical inadequacy of merely awesome. Post-awesome.
Tacos are $1.25 here. Each includes two (2) tortillas, meaning each taco is double-wrapped. And they are great. And you get two. For each taco.
And when you order, each tortilla is handmade there on the spot, to order, one-by-one. Those ladies are hand making the tortillas and grilling up bits and pieces of flesh to crisp perfection as we speak. Well, not as we speak, as in this moment, but on that day, back then, when I had my iPhone and was hungry.
And oh what crispy nuggets of delicious taco joy these are. Some of the best asada I’ve had in my time in Oregon. The “pastor” analog here is actually adobada, which are grilled meaty pork nibs bathed in a bright red, deliciously oily marinade.
The condiments are excellent, and as you can witness are presented as sauces three, with sauce the third being an incredible avocado verde salsa that just earns this place more awesome stripes and gold stars.
Here are pictures of tacos in a various states of being.
Restaurant Uruapan
851 SW 1st Ave (Hwy 99E)
Canby, OR 97013
503.263.4480
Jimmy Dean, sausage maker extraordinaire and country music troubadour, has passed.
To commemorate, it’s worth revisiting the best product feedback call of all time.
Summer grilling season is upon us! Here’s to backyard grilling and bbq.
Kai Yaang (Thai grilled chicken)
- 2 1/2 to 3 pounds various chicken parts, or a whole chicken, halved
- 8 or more minced garlic cloves
- 1 tablespoon ground white pepper
- As much minced lemongrass as you like. I like a lot (like a 1/2 cup or more!)*
- 6-8 thai bird chilies, minced
- 1 tablespoon soy sauce
- 2 tablespoons fish sauce
- 1 tablespoon oyster sauce
- 1 tablespoon turbinado sugar
- Half a bunch of cilantro, chopped
- 1 tablespoon
* Fubonn (and many Vietnamese markets) sell finely minced lemongrass in plastic tubs in the freezer section. They are a time saver, and the industrial cut is finer than anything you can reproduce at home. Highly recommended
Place chicken parts in a bowl. Add all the marinade ingredients and mix well. Marinade for at least four hours or overnight.
Start a charcoal grill in your kettle grill, keeping the hot coals on one half.
Once the coals are going, grill the chicken for 10-15 minutes over hot coals, turning often, until a nice color develops.
Move the chicken to the cooler side of the grill. Turn every so often, and cook for another 20-30 minutes. This is backyard grilling—use your backyard grillSense. Move parts back to the hot side as needed.
Serve with sweet chili dipping sauce.
I’ve been going to this place for nearly eight years, back when it was Pho Oregon “West” (despite being only a mile from the other Pho Oregon at NE 82nd Ave).
The interior is spartan. You are automatically rationed the standard beverages.
It took a name change, and a format change, plus Extra MSG’s vetting of the assorted grilled meat platter, that got me thinking about anything but pho at this place.
But why would I? I’ve long contended this location on NE Sandy, when it existed as a namesake to the NE 82nd version, had the better bowl of soup of the two doppelgängers. Since the obvious switch of ownership (and name, and staff, who are now dressed in lovely white uniforms) a few years back, I had no reason to really look past the first turn of the first menu page, the page where various permutations of pho are listed in perfunctory uniformity, the same list xeroxed and sampled by every pho joint from Chula Vista to Bellingham.
The salad platter at Pho An Sandy, as it was back when it was Pho Oregon, is unparalleled in Portland. You will always get more than enough <em>ngo gai</em>, aka culantro aka sawtooth herb, no matter how lily white your skin or accent may be.
The broth at Pho An Sandy I believe is one of our city’s most well balanced, though—as with any soup joint with high turnover that is constantly bootstrapping their stockpot—it can vary in the amount of spice, clarity, beefiness, sweetness, etc.
The braised meats (chin, nam) are very consistent.
All in all, a very excellent pho, served quickly and without fuss. What more could you ask for? Well, Pho An Sandy also has a wide and varied menu that expands beyond the perfunctory soup offerings.
Including this “dac biet” mixed grill platter, which features bo la lot (beef wrapped in betel leaves), grilled lemongrass pork (topped with sauteed shallots and chopped peanuts)…
…grilled sugarcane shrimp…
…and nem nuong (pork patty/sausage)
As is Pho An Sandy’s MO, the salad platter that accompanied this impressive phalanx of deliciously grilled meats was generous, overflowing with spearmint, perilla, rau ram, cucumber, and lettuce.
The general idea with Vietnamese meats is to roll your own (using the carefully constructed quenelles of rice noodles served with the meats as a starch foundation), thus you’re given a bowl of warm water and dried rice paper sheets…
…and a bowl of nuoc cham dipping sauce (always add a dollop of the fresh chili garlic sauce on the table—you’ll be thankful).
A delicious strip of nem nuong about in pre-rolled state.
I can roll a fat blunt.
Come to daddy, sugarcane shrimp.
Pho An Sandy on THE WORLD WIDE WEB
Portlandfood.org
Pho An Sandy
6236 Northeast Sandy Boulevard
Portland, OR 97213
(503) 281-2990
Picked up some fresh noodles in the fridge section of Uwajimaya a few weeks back. Usually these are packaged with a broth/seasoning packet companion, but in this case it was a 3 pack of just noodles. These fresh ramen noodles are actually quite workable.
Ramen in broth with roast pork, menma, bok choy, and king oyster mushrooms, sprinkled with togarashi. I’ll publish the broth recipe one of these days when I’m not so lazy.
Tastes Like Chicken: The Quest for Fake Meat.
This spring, scientists at the University of Missouri announced that after more than a decade of research, they had created the first soy product that not only can be flavored to taste like chicken but also breaks apart in your mouth the way chicken does: not too soft, not too hard, but with that ineffable chew of real flesh. When you pull apart the Missouri invention, it disjoins the way chicken does, with a few random strands of “meat” hanging loosely.
“i am a pharmacist
prescriptions i will fill you
potions, pills and medicines
to ease your painful lives
i am a lost soul
i shoot myself with rock & roll
the hole i dig is bottomless
but nothing else can set me free”
All 1.5 readers of this blog know I’m a big fan of Sanchez Taqueria, Tigard’s very own taste of Mexico that churns out delicious meats wrapped in hand-made pillows of fresh tortilla goodness (aka the “taco”).
Many of these readers will be interested to discover that Sanchez has expanded, usurping the square footage once occupied by (what I assume was) an erstwhile BBQ joint that formerly shared the same building.
Sanchez now bills itself as a “panaderia”…
…and in this case the strength of this size alone legitimizes their claim, even if their baked goods at the time were a bit sparse.
Ordering is done at the front counter, as before, the operative difference being that the front counter now occupies it’s own room (equipped with seating for to-go orders) at the very south side of the taqueria.
The interior is now quite cavernous, now spanning two separate rooms, each one singularly larger than the previous dining area altogether.
Tacos.
Asada. Wasn’t as crisp as I’ve had previous visits. It’s consistently very crisp, so I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt.
Excellent pastor this time. Just a very tiny bit too sweet than where my tastes lay, but excellent and crisped up better than the asada this day.
Full metal taco jacket.
This chart illustrates succinctly why our country sucks ass.
“Change in price of items since 1978, relative to overall inflation, as measured by the Consumer Price Index. The price of carbonated drinks, for example, has fallen 34 percent relative to all other prices.” (“The Battle Over Taxing Soda“, NY Times)
Marijuana Fuels a New Kitchen Culture. (NY Times)
Ron Siegel, who runs the Michelin-starred dining room at the Ritz-Carlton in San Francisco, said he’s grown past his partying days. But even he is having a little fun with haute stoner cuisine.
To serve slow-cooked quail eggs and caviar, he places them atop plastic film that tightly covers a white porcelain serving bowl. Then he fills the vessel with smoke from grated Japanese cedar packed into the bowl of a fan-driven bong he buys in the Haight-Ashbury neighborhood. The smoke escapes when the diner lifts a small spoon covering a hole in the plastic.
He calls it the Lincecum, after Tim Lincecum, the star pitcher for the San Francisco Giants who was arrested last fall after police found marijuana and a pipe in his car.
As spotted at a metro-area Fred Meyer superstore.
Will Immigration Law Doom America’s Lettuce?. (The Atlantic)
Seemingly permanent factories in Salinas are dismantled, packed into trailers, and reconstructed in The Desert in time for the first harvest, relying on veteran farmers to determine when the crop will be ready. Glimmering steel tanks used for washing greens in a chlorinated bath, giant driers that tumble the washed greens, and conveyors that gently move the fragile leaves along and into bags for retail are all portable. And with the crop and the factory go many undocumented workers.
But many of the harvesters who painstakingly kneel to cut each head of lettuce may choose not to work in Arizona this fall in the wake of its new, hostile immigration law, putting the produce industry in a potentially dangerous position.
Chicken, turkey may sicken 55K fewer under new USDA rules. (USA Today)
Under the new standards, only 7.5% of chicken carcasses at a plant would be allowed to test positive for salmonella, down from 20% allowed since 1996. Salmonella levels in chickens were tested at 7.1% nationally in 2009, says Richard Lobb of the National Chicken Council.
Emphasis mine.
I stopped by Swagat Beaverton in recently to hit their lunch buffet.
Swagat also has a location on NW 21st. I’ve been there a couple times…years, years ago. It wasn’t too good, but I heard some decent things about the lunch buffet out at the BeaverTRON location, so here I am, I have $8, the boss is gone for the afternoon, and I have an innate proclivity for exploration (as long as it doesn’t involve investigating the Tyler Perry Franchise), so what the fucking hell, heh?
The buffet features various fine Indian curries, rice, chutneys, tandoori, sambar, etc. The green chutney is some damn good stuff—I could dip strangers’ shoelaces into that manna and slurp them up.
The experience quickly morphed into a gluttonous gorging vis-a-vis the tandoori chicken, which was presented nearly entirely in drumstick form, which happens to be my favorite roast/grilled poultry appendage.
The fresh naan (as it came out the kitchen in a serendipitous moment of buffet timing) was decent (not knowing the finer points of such stalwarts), as were the (lesser regarded—not my opinion, just my observation) vegetable curry dishes.
Swagat Indian Cuisine
4325 Southwest 109th Avenue
Beaverton, OR 97005-3026
(503) 626-3000
It was a memorable lunch. I remember seeing this at the grocery stand checkout stand later in the evening.
What a crazy time! I remember thinking, back in the day, “Poor Sandra. Will she ever find a non-white supremacist, blue collar lothario who is not a self-aggrandizing twatwad with a weakness for big-boobied women who live fast, talk even faster, and dye young? Somebody, anybody (I’m looking your way George Lopez) PLEASE save America’s Sweetheart from her own earnestness.”
Kai Yaang from the Thai restaurant out in the burbs where the office is located. Nothing mind blowing, pretty simple actually, but the chili sauce seemed custom (if a bit too sweet), and—at $7.50 for half a bird—quite a damn good deal. Nothing like the aggressively marinade full court press you’ll get from a cornish hen @ Pok Pok, but good enough to stuff your ass for another 5 hours until quitting time.
Thai Village
8633 SW Main St # 400
Wilsonville, OR 97070-6584
(503) 682-6211
Lay’s Changing Basic Shape of Salt Crystals for Healthier Potato Chips (Popular Science)
The salt crystals on potato chips only dissolve about 20 percent of the way on the tongue, while the center of each tiny cube-shaped crystal remains intact until after it’s swallowed. Thus, most of the salt you’re eating on your chips is not contributing to the taste of the chip, but it is dissolving further down your digestive tract and causing whatever the FDA alleges that increased dietary sodium intake causes.
The redesigned salt crystal, with more surface area, should dissolve completely on the tongue, thus theoretically allowing each chip to taste just as salty with only 20 percent as much salt.
I have much respect for the Frito-Lay corporation.
Good, if a bit pricy…but, hey, it’s a crab bennie.
Veritable Quandary
1220 Southwest 1st Avenue
Portland, OR
97204
(503) 227-7342
One of the better bowls of soup you’ll find in our fair burg.
Pho An Sandy
6236 Northeast Sandy Boulevard
Portland, OR 97213
(503) 281-2990
Cheney: Telling Leahy to ‘f*ck’ himself was ‘sort of the best thing I ever did.’ (ThinkProgress)
MILLER: By the way, my, I also want to thank you, on the list of things I feel I should thank you for, almost kicking Patrick Leahy’s ass. Thank you very much.
CHENEY: Hehehehe.
MILLER: I love that move. One of my favorite stories. Muttering that.
CHENEY: You’d be surprised how many people liked that. That’s sort of the best thing I ever did
Now for old time’s sake…hey Dick Cheney: choke on Satan’s cock, you sniveling, wretched homunculus.
Double Down by the Numbers: Unhealthiest Sandwich Ever?. (Nat Silver @FiveThirtyEight.com)
We can, of course, be a bit more exacting about this. I’ve created an index based on the amount of fat, sodium and cholesterol that the Double Down and a variety of comparable sandwiches contain as a portion of the USDA daily allowance. (In the fat category, saturated fats are counted double and trans-fats are counted triple.) The index is scaled such that the Original Recipe version of the sandwich receives a score of 1.00, a measure of gluttony that will hereafter be known as The Double Down (DD).*
Sandwich to Be Renamed for Man With Lockjaw. (AOL)
A Georgia man bit off more than he could chew — literally — when he dislocated his jaw while trying to eat a super-sized sandwich.
Chad Ettmueller, a structured settlement broker in Cumming, Ga., suffered a locked jaw for 14 hours after biting into a double meat, double cheese sandwich.
What the world needs now:
- More people who complain about service on Yelp.
- Another Thai restaurant.
- More people who think restaurant food is too salty.
- More blanket media coverage for Korean tacos.
- Another national article on the fact that there are carts in Portland that serve food.
- More people who like to deep-fry things.
- A foot soldier movement to pretentiously over-analyze and thus ruin another beverage-related conceit just like wine, coffee, and beer before it. Candidates include water and milk.
- More places that serve dessert for breakfast and the requisite line of white people that line up to spend dozens of dollars for this privilege.
- More people who think a restaurant should exist solely to satisfy their predilections, whether it’s bringing in their own food/wine to augment their dining experience and expecting no resulting fees, or demanding the coq au vin be made with tofu or that the pizza be made gluten-free, or asking that each course be brought out exactly 78 seconds after I’ve fully and lovingly masticated the last bite from the previous, or expecting a dish to be comped because I tried pig intestines and realized it just isn’t my thing.
- One more food blog.
- Another asshole with an opinion who can make a bulleted list.
I hadn’t been to HA&VL on a Saturday for some time, so I was due for a visit.
Saturday’s feature is “Bun Moc Ha Noi”—pepper pork meatball noodle soup, laced with black pepper & slices of pork in pork broth.
The salad plate at HA&VL is not the largest.
But it really is just enough to make the entire bowl come together. In addition to the pork meatballs and Vietnamese spam, the soup is garnished with green onions, cilantro, rau ram, fragrantly fried shallots, a large, fried fish ball.
And lurking underneath are a few slices of this excellent pork, rimmed with a layer of gelatinous, chewy fat that’s so nice to chomp on.
I don’t know how they do this, but this bowl of bun moc was better than the half-dozen bowls I’ve had in the past. At HA&VL, the best bowl of soup always seems to be the last bowl of soup you’ve eaten here.
HA&VL Sandwiches
2738 SE 82nd Ave Ste 103
Portland, OR 97266
(503) 772-0103
HA&VL on the WORLD WIDE WEB
HA&VL Sandwiches on Yelp
It is now our official policy to not link to Yelp as that website is a depraved wasteland populated by deranged homunculi.
I recently ventured back to “The Old Pueblo”, aka Tucson, Arizona.
These tamales from Lerua’s were waiting for us thanks to the father-in and mother-in-law.
A fine specimen of a tamale, if a bit on the drier side. These were red chili beef tamales. The paler version (on the right) were green chili (no meat).
With an ample layer of house made salsa, these tamales became really excellent.
Lerua’s Fine Mexican Food
2005 East Broadway Boulevard
Tucson, AZ 85719-5937
(520) 624-0322
MSG: Is This Silent Killer Lurking in Your Kitchen Cabinets?. (Huff Post)
One of the best overviews of the very real dangers of MSG comes from Dr. Russell Blaylock, a board-certified neurosurgeon and author of “Excitotoxins: The Taste that Kills.” In it he explains that MSG is an excitotoxin, which means it overexcites your cells to the point of damage or death, causing brain damage to varying degrees — and potentially even triggering or worsening learning disabilities, Alzheimer’s disease, Parkinson’s disease, Lou Gehrig’s disease and more.
Part of the problem also is that free glutamic acid is the same neurotransmitter that your brain, nervous system, eyes, pancreas and other organs use to initiate certain processes in your body.[4] Even the FDA states:
“Studies have shown that the body uses glutamate, an amino acid, as a nerve impulse transmitter in the brain and that there are glutamate-responsive tissues in other parts of the body, as well.
Abnormal function of glutamate receptors has been linked with certain neurological diseases, such as Alzheimer’s disease and Huntington’s chorea. Injections of glutamate in laboratory animals have resulted in damage to nerve cells in the brain.”[5]
Although the FDA continues to claim that consuming MSG in food does not cause these ill effects, many other experts say otherwise.
Of course, I don’t think so.
Not really the kind of branding you want from a commercially produced emulsified forcemeat.
Stopped by Biwa recently for a bowl of soup.
One bonus of dining at Biwa, in addition to a hot towel that warms the soul, is the amuse you get of marinated sea vegetable. Just a couple bites to start the meal off right.
Biwa Ramen, with the egg option. The egg has that great consistency that’s a bit beyond soft- but appropriately short of hard-boiled.
When Biwa first opened, I was eager to check it out for the ramen alone. While I loved everything else about Biwa, the ramen fell a bit short.
But they’ve retooled dish, and the noodles are consistently curly and toothsome, and the broth that comprises their namesake ramen is deeply flavorful, redolent of roasted onion and simmered pork, most comparable I would estimate to a dark shoyu stock. My last couple visits the broth featured little bits of fat that added a bit of delicious, unctuous richness. Biwa also features a Chicken Ramen that has a much lighter broth—I’ve had it once and found it fine, but personally I would opt for the complexity of the Biwa ramen each and every time.
The ramen at Biwa is garnished a bit sparsely (with just green onion and a thin sheet of nori), and once you retool it with optional add-ons (egg for $1 and/or chasyu pork at $2 – the pork looks great, check out Sauce Supreme’s photo) it can become a somewhat expensive bowl of soup. But right now, unless there’s some new option I’m not aware of, I think Biwa is churning out the best bowl of Japanese-style soup in our fair burg.
While not very prototypical in terms of style and execution, I would say it’s a distinctly Portland take on ramen (above is a shot of the “parking lot”) and I’m officially a fan.
Biwa
215 Southeast 9th Avenue
Portland, OR 97214
(503) 239-8830
Biwa on THE WORLD WIDE WEB
Salty, sweet: study says fat is the sixth “taste”. (Yahoo! News)
People sensitive to the taste of fat tend to eat less of it and are less likely to be overweight, according to Australian research that found human tongues can detect fatty tastes.
Researchers at Deakin University, working with colleagues at the University of Adelaide among others, found that fat was the sixth taste people can identify in addition to the five others — sweet, sour, salty, bitter and protein-rich.
Science.
Recently hit Chinatown’s Ping for some post-work drinks and snackables.
Bellied up to the counter/bar, where I prefer eating. At Ping you might smell like a combination of smoke and fish sauce when you leave, though.
Ping features excellent skewered meat. A round was ordered. At Ping the skewered meat is priced per skewer, but you have to order a minimum of two. This has always been their policy, even since I first visited Ping a little over a year ago during its Grand Opening week. Apparently the two skewer minimum is a problem for some people. Why don’t they just say there’s two to an order and double the price? I thought about this long and hard over the last year, and then it occurred to me. With this policy, you can order three! or Five! Or Seven!!!
lamb satay skewer: malaysian satay with peanut sauce. ($2.50/ea)
bbq beef skewer: with pineapple & chili, sweet soy, pepper and fish sauce. ($2.50/ea)
baby-octopus skewer: marinated in lime, chilies, garlic, fish sauce and cilantro. ($3.50/ea)
house-made fish ball skewer: thai-style, dipped in sweet chili sauce. ($2.50/ea)
Everthing was oh so flavorful and tasty. Like food. Aggressively seasoned. Made with ingredients. So another round was ordered.
To mix up the protein, a decision was made to introduce a bit of green. Something to modulate this gut carpet-bombing campaign.
nonya-style greeen beans: in spicy coconut curry and fried shallots. ($8). NOTE: this is just an a la carte dish. No two order minimum. Though I would order two because they are tasty and toothsome.
beef satay skewer. malaysian satay with peanut sauce. ($2.50/ea)
We had the lamb already…why not the beef? I am an equal opportunity, craven consumer of ungulate flesh, especially that of the artiodactyl. I assume one day I shall explore perissodactyls with the zeal and attention they deserve.
quail egg skewer: wrapped in bacon, with spicy mayo sauce. ($2.75/ea)
It is my contention that if you ate these with every meal every day for the rest of your life you would die happy and stupid and soon.
A salted plum collins and a couple Tiger beers rounded things out.
And because I’m a masochist who actively sabotages his lower gastrointestinal tract, another couple deliciously incendiary skewers of the spicy baby octopus made their way to our countertop. Much to the displeasure of my anus the next morning. Don’t hate the playa; hate the game.
Ping
102 Northwest 4th Avenue
Portland, OR 97209
(503) 229-7464
Ping on THE WORLD WIDE WEB
pdx PLATE
Portlandfood.org
BB has been here…
and Lizzy has been here…
and so has the Fearless Critic
Stopped by Bun Bo Hue Minh on SE Division recently for some breakfast.
Really nice goi cuon, freshly packed with herbs. Not the largest rolls in town, but a $3.50 a good value and nice precursor.
A solid bowl of bun rieu. Pork/shrimp/crab “loaf”, fried tofu, slices of cha lua (and a couple cubes of pork blood), in a tart, tomato-rich, seafood stock.
Bun Bo Hue Minh
8560 SE Division St
Portland, OR 97266
Bun Bo Hue Minh on THE WORLD WIDE WEB
FDA orders widespread food recall. (MSNBC)
The U.S. Food and Drug Administration announced a recall of a common flavor enhancer that could be contaminated with salmonella bacteria.
The product, called hydrolyzed vegetable protein or HVP, is potentially in thousands of food products, including soups, sauces, chilis, stews, hot dogs, gravies, seasoned snack foods, dips and dressings. HVP is manufactured by a Las Vegas company.
All HVP in the world is manufactured by one company? In Las Vegas?
Pho tai nam at Pho Nguyen.
Pho Nguyen
4795 Southwest 77th Avenue
Portland, OR 97225-1807
(503) 297-3389
Jade Patisserie and Teahouse is a charming, family-run establishment located on that equally charming strip of 13th Avenue in Sellwood that boasts antique shops and other things white people like.
Jade is owned and operated by a Vietnamese family that executes straightforward, homestyle southeast Asian favorites with an emphasis on bright, impeccably fresh flavors.
Ordering is done at the counter, before an impressively composed, handwritten chalkboard menu rife with solid typography. I want these fonts.
The salad rolls are available with lemongrass tofu, or shrimp and chicken. Unlike the goi cuon you’ll find at standard Vietnamese greasy spoons, these have no noodles and feature a higher ratio of vegetables and herbs. For $5, it’s a huge order.
These are some of the best salad rolls I’ve had in town, tightly packed with fresh thai basil leaves that give them an anise-y snap. The fact that the tofu itself is seasoned beyond being simply fried is a touch that does not go unnoticed.
The won ton soup is a pleasant rendition, with a mild but flavorful broth. I definitely appreciated the greens and slices of lean char sui.
The dumplings themselves are on the diminutive side—you won’t confuse these with the overstuffed wontons at Kenny’s Noodle House—but overall it’s a satisfying dish.
The “Stir Fried Rice Noodles” here are nothing really more than stir fried rice noodles. The peanuts denote that it could be a sort of “pad thai” but it’s not trying to be this at all—just a mild, enjoyable noodle dish, if somewhat on the bland side. You’ll want to ask for some chili oil or Siracha to spike it up. But the composure of the dish speaks to what Jade is all about: fresh, simple, and comforting.
Which brings up another distinction. While Jade Patisserie and Teahouse is a full-fledged restaurant, it has a very casual feel. Unlike most Vietnamese restaurants you won’t find condiments (or chopsticks and spoons, for that matter) at each table.
This shot above is of the wonderful nook tucked into the far end of the restaurant (that features Connect Four).
I love the char sui hum bao here. It’s flat on either end unlike the dome-shaped buns you’re more likely to encounter. A much greater protein-to-dough ratio is the result, which in this case is a very good thing, as the hum bao is brimming with flavorful chopped bbq pork.
The beef stew here (bo kho) is one of the better versions of beef stew you’ll find in any restaurant, Vietnamese or otherwise. This is down-home cooking, rich, deep and satisfying.
If you’re anything like me you’ll be busting your gut to sop up every last drop with crusty french bread—just like at home.
Jade Patisserie and Teahouse
7912 Southeast 13th Avenue
Portland, OR 97202
(503) 477-8985
Jade Patisserie and Teahouse on THE WORLD WIDE WEB
A Delicious Free-for-All. (NY Times)
A GOOD selection of Belgian-style ales is like the very best kind of buffet, offering an assortment of flavors, aromas, styles, strengths and types. You want strong ale, sour ale, sweet ale, dry ale, golden, dark, wheat, fruity and malty. When we set out to draw a stylistic standard for a planned tasting of Belgian golden ales, it seemed as if we’d taken on an impossible task. But glory does not come to those who quit easily.
Last fall I had the good fortune to attend a conference and spend some quality time in downtown Los Angeles. Even though I lived in Southern California for seven non-contiguous years of my life, I never really spent much time in the densest parts of LA, much less downtown (outside of the occasional drive-through).
As an aside, I was actually quite taken by downtown LA. I walked a lot, and the weather was beautiful. My hotel was just around the corner Seven Grand, a dark and first-rate whiskey bar that would be instantly be my favorite place to drink in Portland. Despite the axiomatic pre-conception of Los Angeles being a city where the automobile is king, I was quite surprised by the breadth and punctuality of the public transit (The Dart ran multiple routes that criss-crossed the downtown circumference, some every 5 minutes, with a fare of only twenty five cents(!), and the convention center was well served by commuter train).
As my hotel was just a mile away from Little Tokyo, I was excited to indulge in some ramen. Mr. Sauce Supreme (himself a Los Angeles expat and a soon-to-be repat) over drinks at Beaker and Flask (a few nights before my trip) recommended Daikokuya. My first night in LA I shared a wonderful meal with EatDrink&BeMerry and Oishii Eats, and they similarly gave Daikokuya high marks. EatDrink&BeMerry gave me a tip: a few self-serve dollops of the pureed fresh garlic condiment takes the bowl to a whole other level.
As I stood amongst the throngs at the Staples Center, eagerly awaiting admittance in order to be golden showered with marketing bunkum and subjected to hours of rote proselytism, my mind raced. Here I was, amongst scores of wannabe capitalistic schlemiels with no ambition other than swallowing corporate jizz, while all I could think about was drinking from the sweet fountain that is a porky, cloudy Tonkotsu stock. Who was the bigger slave to the master? These people had passion, drive, and ambition, with shared, multivariate, outside interests in the arts and academia. I exist largely in order to consume salt.
It was with this heavy heart that I trudged towards Little Tokyo after my first morning’s sessions had completed.
On my way I noticed the Kogi Korean taco truck has quickly spawned a boldly colored cottage industry.
Even the Japanese taco was being touted…
…at a place appropriately named “LA Chicken” that apparently serves chicken that tastes like a luxury Japanese sedan.
Daikokuya itself is a small storefront on a busy stretch of 1st Avenue, just north of an entertaining maze of hilariously disjointed Japanese businesses that align themselves loosely into a mall of sorts.
I could wander these avenues for hours in tacit wonderment.
After walking over an hour with the sun beating down upon my neck, the cold Tsukemen’s sale pitch appealed to me, but there was no question what I was here for.
It was the Daikoku Ramen.
This was high noon, and there was a line out the door.
However, since I was dining solo, my name was called just 10 minutes after putting it on the waiting list, and I was parked at end of the counter, which gave me a bird’s eye view of the cooks working their magic in the small kitchen.
The initial reaction after this huge bowl of soup is placed in front of your person is to the prevalence of green onion. Trust me, it works. The guy who was seated adjacent to me as I was mid-way through my bowl ordered his Daikoku Ramen without green onions. A part of me died, and I’ve since held white hipsters with chain wallets in generally low regard.
The soup also features a nice amount of mung bean sprouts, slivers of fibrous menma.
Togarashi is freely available. Daikokuya must read my mind; this is the first thing I ask for anytime I’m brought a bowl a ramen.
Pureed garlic and pickled ginger sits on the table (or counter), allowing you to tailor the soup to your tastes. I can’t emphasize how fucking awesome this is.
The garlic goodness.
So how to describe this soup? The intense, pork bone Tonkotsu-style, creamy broth? The marinated, soft-boiled egg? The incredible tender and deeply flavorful kurobuta pork belly?
The curly, toothsome, handmade fresh noodles?
I’ll let the copy speak for itself. I will, however, add an official “goddamned mutherfuckin’ amen”. Daikoku Ramen is a masterpiece, a fugue of deliciousness, an experience that begins innocently with the prosaic act of accessorizing of your soup, then plunges you into an atavistic ingurgitation, and culminates in a lack of self-awareness as you raise the immense bowl above your head to lustfully extract every last drop of golden nectar.
I needed a smoke after this soup. And a nap.
When I awoke the next morning, my mind was consumed with the thought of returning to Daikokuya for another bowl of manna.
I cross-referenced the hours from a photo on my iPhone and was a bit forlorn that I would have to wait until 11AM.
Of course I was there when it opened.
The amount of green onion from yesterday’s bowl was not a fluke. And EatDrink&BeMerry’s sage advice rang true—I went with even another dollop of fresh garlic on this morning.
That’s a hawt (and disturbing) egg moneyshot.
The pork belly. Oh the pork belly. “Fall apart tender” is tautological when speaking of the kurobuta pork belly at Daikokuya.
A souvenir of success.
Yeah.
I checked out Adem Ayem cafe recently for lunch with a couple co-workers. Adem Ayem is a very small mom-n-pop Indonesian cafe located in a strip mall on the 99W just south of Hall Blvd. There are only 3 or 4 tables. Ordering is done at the counter.
The menu changes daily.
Beef redang (dry beef curry) with steam rice, sauteed veggies, sambal. The sambal was great–bright, spicy, vibrant, with a hint of fishiness. The tender beef, when pressed slightly with a fork, shredded into sublimity, and the curry sauce was delicious. Comfort food.
Chicken satay with peanut sauce and rice paste. Lightly pickled veggies on the side.
Adem Ayem Cafe
11945 SW Pacific Hwy, Suite 202
Tigard, OR 97223
503.639.7770
http://www.ademayemcafe.com
Adem Ayem on the WORLD WIDE WEB
One Noodle at a Time in Tokyo. (NY Times)
From then on there is only one sound — the slurping of noodles. Oh, it’s punctuated by the occasional happy hum of a diner chewing pork or guzzling the fat-flecked broth, or even by the faint chatter of the chef’s radio, but it’s the slurps that take center stage, long and loud and enthusiastic, showing appreciation for the chef’s métier even as they cool the noodles down to edible temperature.
Little T American Baker is a bakery/sandwich/espresso shop located on SE Division.
Its stark, modern interior features a rectangularly framed display case showing off the daily baked goods.
Including an excellent, crusty baguette. The breads at Little T are a treat.
A well-scribbled, chalkboard menu describes the daily offerings. The sandwiches options are mostly are static, but do seem to have a bit of variance from what I’ve seen.
Texas Cowgirl. Egg and cheddar on Sally Nunn (sort of a Texas Toast – $5.50). An excellent breakfast sandwich, cooked perfectly. A bonus about Little T is that they serve breakfast sandwiches on the weekend well into the afternoon.
The “Italian hoagie on seeded baguette” ($6.75) is not the most loaded of Italian style hoagies, but it hit the spot.
I personally would like more “tang” in the form of peppers, onions, maybe a tapenade. Perfectly fine, and the seeded baguette is a nice foil for the high-quality meats and cheese.
This “Ham and cheese and pretzel bread” ($4.50) is quite scrumptious. A pleasant snack, or, in this case, a sizable meal for my daughter, who for the first time ate an entire commercially purchased sandwich.
Little T American Baker
2600 SE Division St
Portland, OR 97202-1253
(503) 238-3458
Little T American Baker on THE WORLD WIDE WEB
Imported Beef!
Packaged Salad Bacteria: New Study Finds Salad Can Contain High Levels of Fecal Bacteria. (Huff Post)
Literally.
Chicago’s Windy City Hot Dogs
8680 SW Canyon Rd
Portland, OR 97225
(503) 208-3031
Tacos can be eaten for breakfast when you are hungry.
Sanchez Taqueria
13050 Southwest Pacific Highway
Tigard, OR 97223-5072
(503) 684-2838
I’ve made repeated visits to Southwest Portland’s Hakatamon (located in the Uwajimaya Asian Market Superstore prefecture of near-Beaverton) since they introduced their Hakata-style tonkotsu broth ramen dishes some 20 months ago.
The cha-su pork here continues to be really excellent. This visit I’ve found the stock to be a bit too restrained…somewhat tepid. Garnishes included konbu, pickled ginger, green onions. sesame seeds. And of course the delicious kurobuta pork. The noodles I’ve determined need work. Too straight and pasta-like for my tastes. A fresh, toothsome, curly noodle, combined with refinement to the stock, could make this a more satisfying and complete bowl. Nevertheless, personally this is a good option for ramen in the Portland metro area.
Kenny’s is a new-ish Hong Kong-style noodle soup house on Portland’s southeast side, on the north side of Powell (just across the street from Best Baguette).
They’ve had a grand opening sign in front of their establishment for about 5 months now. That’s marketing.
The interior is clean and faux modern. Small and cozy.
You’ll get a nice cup of tea once you sit down. I tend to only drink one cup of tea, so I prefer a freshly poured, singular hot cup if tea to the metallic teapot service (and I imagine these teapots are constantly repurposed).
Condiment tray features standard condiments–red vinegar, white and black pepper, and the ubiquitous (and fiery) chili paste.
Default bowl of wonton soup.
Disgustingly posed photo of a half-eaten wonton cross-section.
From my post at Portlandfood.org:
“I like this place. It’s comfort food. The default garnish on the wanton noodle soups are sparse, with only a few slivers of the white of a green onion, but I ask them to add some bok choy and they happily oblige. And of course, the oily chili paste and dashes of white pepper complete the bowl.
“…the dumplings are large and stuffed with entire shrimp, and the minced pork filling is mild, but fine, and it doesn’t have that slight “off” or “gamey” taste I’ve experienced (maybe from heavy handedness with 5-spice or Shaoxing wine) at other places, like the Chinatown Good Taste location.”
Kenny’s Noodle House
8305 SE Powell Blvd
Portland, OR 97266
(503) 771-6868
Kenny’s Noodle House on THE WORLD WIDE WEB
Two plates from the lunch buffet ($9 all-you-can-eat). Samplings include tandoori chicken, basmati rice, biryani, eggplant and potato curry, veggie pakora, chicken tikka masala, palak paneer, naan, raita, green salad.
Could use more spice and heat all around. Would eat again.
Tandoor Indian Kitchen
406 SW Oak Street
Portland, OR 97204
(503) 243-7777
Tandoor Indian Kitchen on THE WORLD WIDE WEB
Small Bites: Q&A with John Gorham, galette des rois, vouvray brut and more. (OregonLive.com)
This guy is an inspiration.
Worst Automatic Price Reduction ever.
Pho Nguyen
4795 Southwest 77th Avenue
Portland, OR 97225-1807
(503) 297-3389
50 Plates—a newish, modern Pearl District eatery—has somewhat of a kitchsy concept. Its cutesy menu inhabits the murky hinterlands between playful and hackneyed cornball, sort of like HBO’s True Blood.
Castroville Artichoke Rolls. “goat cheese, roasted garlic & artichoke filling, avocado ranch”
These sounded quite intriguing, though what we received was incompatible with my expectations. These were more like eggrolls, and were disappointingly on the small side. But they were fine.
50/50. “aged cheddar on tomato bread, roasted tomato soup with oregano”
This is essentially a take on the childhood comfort staple of grilled cheese and Campbell’s tomato soup.
Unlike the overly processed banality of the latter, 50 Plates’ take on tomato soup was full of vibrant, intense tomato flavors, simple and delicious. The sandwich was a grilled cheese sandwich. It was eaten.
T.J. Caesar. “hearts of romaine, charred corn, cherry tomatoes, fried croutons and cave-aged gouda”
I’m usually not a big fan of “non-standard” Caesar salads, and despite the initials in the name (“T.J.” = Tijuana) that implies some sort of lineage to the birthplace of original Caesar, this salad certainly qualifies as non-traditional. Nicely dressed and composed, the dressing itself was too mild to be considered proper “Caesar” but the salad was enjoyable nonetheless.
The seafood chowder (“Today’s Chowdah“—implying naturally that a different chowder is featured each day) was quite good, featuring plump mussels, clams, and nice chunks of tender white fish in a rich broth not overly thick and maudlin like many seafood chowders can be.
Sliders are ordered at 50 Plates a la carte, and each separate slider came with a flag to distinguish its sovereignty. This must be a tedious step for any cook. Plus, it’s needlessly nationalistic. I live by the motto “hamburguesas sin fronteras”.
Lil’ Kahuna Burger. “Kobe beef, Canadian bacon, pineapple, & teriyaki glaze”
Old Faithful “Kobe beef, Tillamook cheddar, tomato jam”
As you can see each miniature burger was expertly constructed, and the flavors were spot on. My quibble was with the size of the sliders. They were literally about two bites, diminutive even for burgers in slider form (and at $4 a pop, no bargain either). You would probably need to eat four sliders to properly get your grub on.
The fresh-cut fries were good, and the house made ketchup (“Nikki’s Ketchup”) was a terrific, tangy complement.
So in addition to combining two overwrought beef trends (“Kobe” beef and “sliders”), these burgers were ultimately a smidgeon too twee for me, I suppose. When I want to get my burger on I’m more in mood for Bruce Springsteen’s Born to Run than Belle and Sebastian’s Boy with the Arab Strap.
A platter of biscuits and assorted starches accompany your meal at 50 Plates, including a savory, crumbly cheddar biscuit that my daughter loved dunking in her bowl of “chowdah”. Major bonus points for going beyond the perfunctory bread basket.
50 Plates
333 Northwest 13th Avenue
Portland, OR 97209-3144
(503) 228-5050
Dang’s Thai Kitchen
670 North State Street
Lake Oswego, OR 97034-2437
(503) 697-0779
Ticket Replay: Sarah Palin’s book sparks attack on vegetarian critic. (LA Times)
So it’s not really a surprise that her book, “Going Rogue,” published today, extols the virtues of eating meat.
“If any vegans came over for dinner, I could whip them up a salad, then explain my philosophy on being a carnivore,” she wrote. “If God had not intended for us to eat animals, how come He made them out of meat?”
But the former Republican vice presidential candidate did not stop there.
“I love meat,” she writes. “I eat pork chops, thick bacon burgers, and the seared fatty edges of a medium-well-done steak. But I especially love moose and caribou. I always remind people from outside our state that there’s plenty of room for all Alaska’s animals — right next to the mashed potatoes.”
“Medium-well-done steak”? Fuck that noise. Not fit to govern.
Since it’s winter and the time where many humans are afflicted with “the sickness”, I thought I’d share my favorite form of chicken noodle soup. I guess in Vietnamese it’s officially “pho ga”, but that literally just means “chicken soup”. So the American patois in this instance is far superiour as it includes the word “noodle”. But I don’t really care at all what you call it. It’s a free country—until of course everyone has access to affordable health care at which point we will all be fascists.
Start the Broth
- 1 Chicken
- A lot of water
- 2 teaspoons coriander seed
- 4 allspice berries
- 1 teaspoon black peppercorns
- 1 teaspoon white peppercorns
- 6 star anise
- 1/2 cinnamon stick
- 10 cloves
- 4 dried scallops
- 15 dried shrimp
- 4 tablespoons finely minced lemongrass
- 7 kaffir lime leaves
- 1 large white onion
- 2 carrots
- 3 stalks celery
- 1 medium sized knob ginger, sliced
Put the chicken in a stock pot. Pour enough water in the pot to cover the chicken by a couple inches or so. Add vegetables and spices (all the rest of the broth ingredients) and bring to a low simmer. Lower heat to low and allow chicken to poach for 45 minutes or so, and then remove the chicken and stick it in the fridge. After it’s cooled sufficiently, remove the breast meat (but keep the rest of the chicken on the bone).
Bring the stock back to a low simmer and return the rest of the chicken back to the pot. Reduce the heat to the lowest possible setting (and if there are burners on your stove smaller than others, move the stockpot to the smaller burner). “Simmer” overnight (there really should be no bubbling at all).
Season the Broth
The next morning, strain twice (or more!) and place in the fridge. Once a layer of fat congeals at the very top, skim it. Return the pot to the stove (and heat) and add:
- A few, small (nickle-sized) pieces of rock sugar
- Salt
- 1 teaspoon or more of Ajinomoto (aka “MSG”) – this is your call (if you hate MSG, I respect your wishes. The scallops and shrimp do add a significant amount of umami).
- Many dashes of fish sauce
Taste and season accordingly.
Bowl It Up
Bring the broth to a roiling simmer. In the meantime, boil fresh banh pho noodles for 30 seconds and remove to a bowl. Add to that:
- Torn chicken breast meat (see above)
- Chiffonade of thin omelette spiked with a lot of black pepper
- Torn Thai basil leaves
- Sawtooth herb (if you can find it)
- Cilantro
- Thinly sliced onion
- Chopped green onions
- Chopped bird chilies
- Bean sprouts
Pour hot broth over noodles. Finish with a couple dashes of fish sauce and grinds of fresh black and white pepper. Squeeze of 1/4 or 1/2 of a lemon over the soup. Slurp.
Phnom Penh Noodle Soup (aka “Hu Tieu Nam Vang”) at Southeast Portland’s HA&VL.
Fried fish balls, slices of peppery Vietnamese sausage, roast pork, shrimp, squid, ground pork, and quail eggs, topped with Chinese celery and fried shallots. A finer rendition in the greater Portland metro area there is none. Fridays only you can eat.
HA & VL Sandwich and Soup
2738 SE 82nd Ave # 103
Portland, OR 97266
(503) 772-0103
HA&VL Phnom Penh Noodle Soup on THE WORLD WIDE WEB
Let’s see…what went into the pot. Olive oil, garlic, shallots, tomatoes…a few crushed chilies. A small bottle of clam juice, a healthy pour of vermouth. Anise-y, fresh Thai basil. And of course a swat of butter at the end to finish things, followed by the squeeze of half a lemon. Hence the grilled, crusty bread chunks, sitting off-focus in the background. The bread truly becomes a joie de vivre when the clams have been excavated and slurped. Each dredge of crusty bread through a liquid layered with these flavors comprises a final act worthy of the chapter that preceded.
Kai Yaang from Pok Pok. That’s a mighty fine bird.
I’ve read interweb notices over the past few years that have sung the praises of the Schnitzelwich. Posts by Portland’s own recipe blogger extraordinaire Michelle@Je Mange la Ville and the fine folks at Portlandfood.org. What’s not to dream of? I remember living in Turkey when I was 15 years old and I discovered a sandwich shop of note and decided that fresh, breaded protein sandwiched between two fine slices of bread can be a beautiful thing.
However, since I don’t find myself downtown during lunch much at all, the Schnitzelwich has long eluded me. But recently I had some business downtown to tend to, and was fortunate enough to swing by the Tabor food cart to before heading back to work and sample this culinary curiosity finally, once and for all.
The Tabor cart itself is one of downtown’s more striking and creative pods, wearing a distinctive DIY ethic on its sleeves.
By the way, the cart does serve other foodstuffs that is not the Schnitzelwich. One day I might be lucky enough to eat all these as well.
But the Schnitzelwich is what we are concerning ourselves with. And man, what a sandwich. A perfectly crispy shell of delicious breading encases a tenderized pork filet. And it is huge–the entire filet spills out from all sides of the Grand Central ciabatta roll (a perfect foil) in which it is sandwiched and is the size of small woman’s foot.
The bread is schmeared on either side with a mild ajvar chili relish and horseradish spread. A couple crisp, green romaine leaves complete the garnish. My only quibble would be with the abundance of the horseradish, but that’s simply a personal preference and I would ask for a light spread my next time.
How safe is that chicken? (Consumer Reports)
You would think that after years of alarms about food safety—outbreaks of illness followed by renewed efforts at cleanup—a staple like chicken would be a lot safer to eat. But in our latest analysis of fresh, whole broilers bought at stores nationwide, two-thirds harbored salmonella and/or campylobacter, the leading bacterial causes of foodborne disease.
Spotted at Barbur World Foods. Coming soon to a dish in my kitchen.
Black Friday indeed.
Dick Cheney slams President Obama for projecting ‘weakness. (Politico)
I haven’t posted something in this vein in some time, and was able to work in a tangential food reference as well.
I found myself with a day off on a recent Thursday. I considered this a capricious stroke of serendipity (even if it was Thanksgiving, which happens on Thursday every year as long as I can remember), because this day is when the warm and generous family that run SE Portland’s HA & VL feature their incredible “Crabflake Noodle Soup”.
It’s difficult to describe just how good this soup is.
Likewise, it’s impossible to overestimate how two perfectly cooked quail eggs transports this meal to an astral plane beyond Shirley MacLaine levels of deliciousness. The broth is not so much a liquid as it is a viscous, primordial sludge with a 10W-40 grade. A distillation of briny crab and seafood essences, imparting a thick umami translucence like liquid gold.
Fat, chewy rice noodles provide the starchy counterpoint to the deep and intensely flavorful “broth”, bolstered by gossamer flakes of boiled crab meat.
The garnish at HA&VL provides just enough lemon verbena, Vietnamese balm, shiso, julienned lettuce, and the right amount of fiery chopped thai bird chilies (bathing in fish sauce and vinegar) to properly spike the punch and round out dish.
Last Sunday, after that afternoon’s televised American tackle football match had ceased, I was greeted with this wonderful program starring competitive bouncing champion and notable television personality
Mr. T.
I trust you found this as enthralling and educational (not to mention fraught with sexual tension) as I did. Here’s a sample.
I found myself out in Beaverton on a recent morning and decided to step into Pho Hung for a bowl of soup for breakfast.
At Pho Hung they don’t bring out the ngo gai (sawtooth herb) that is essential to the pho experience, so ask for it explicitly. Don’t miss the opportunity to add ngo gai in your pho—life’s too short to not enjoy the herbal essence. It’s your right as an American. Don’t be a socialist.
As they leave the kitchen, this branch of the Hung sprinkles their bowls generously with plenty of raw sliced onion, scallions, and cilantro, like any proper bowl of pho should be garnished.
The chin here this morning really rocked it. I’ve complained about the consistency of the various Pho Hungs in the Portland metro area in the past, but in reality they should all be viewed from the perspective that each location is really their own restaurant (exemplified by the location on NE 72nd/Sandy that became an entirely different restaurant a couple years ago). And each restaurant can have its respective arcs. The Hung on SE Powell I haven’t visited in probably 4 years, but when I did (about every other week for the course of 2 years) I would get bowls all over the map, with many renditions feeling a bit “smegma-ish”. The last bowl from the SE 82nd location was tepid and milquetoast. I’ve complained about the consistency at the Beaverton location as well, but the last half dozen bowls of soup (over the course of 18 months) have shown this location to deliver honest bowls of pho with solid components featuring flavorful broths with the appropriate amounts of clarity and depth.
Pho Hung Beaverton
13227 SW Canyon Rd # B
Beaverton, OR 97005-4623
(503) 626-2888
A Nutria Trap Line by Bicycle. (Some awesome guy’s blog via Blogtown)
We then returned with our catch and skinned them, prepared the hides for tanning and butchered the carcass and cooked up a bit of the meat. Most folks seemed pleasantly surprised at the “chicken- like” taste of the meat. I have been asked, and often wondered myself, whether the meat from these critters is clean enough to eat being that they are semi-aquatic and spend much time in Johnson Creek, which isn’t known for being clean. My opinion is this: Eating a bit of this now and then can’t be too harmful because the nutria are feeding mainly on clean organic crops and grasses at the farm where they reside. They are not eating fish and so, I assume, are not bioaccumulating toxins the way tuna, salmon and other seafood (that folks pay top dollar for) does.
I have long wondered about the possibility of eating this noble beast. I imagine it would provide the makings for a fine taco.
Bambuzza is located in a strip mall in Tualatin. There’s also another location on the Waterfront and Seattle (for those keeping score at hon, Seattle is not in Portland).
“Saigon Combination” vermicelli bowl. Mostly flavorless and lacking soul. Kinda like Tualatin.
Tip: stay away from the cha gio. Tiny, with a sparse filling that tasted like raw garlic. Horrible.
Bambuza Vietnam Grill
7628 SW Nyberg St
Tualatin, OR 97062-9427
(503) 692-9800
Lunch in Sherwood @Pho Tuy.
Pho Ty
16068 SW Tualatin Sherwood Rd
Sherwood, OR 97140
(503) 625-1782
I recently enjoyed an hour of relative happiness at the Pearl District’s Metrovino, and these poorly composed, noisy iPhone photos should be considered visual proof of such an incident.
The “Charcuterie of the Day” was duck rilletes. I can’t remember what exactly that fruit dollop was, but I do remember it was tasty.
“Salmon Gravlax Bruschetta” I was expecting…more.
“Tataki of Hawaiian Yellowtail”. With sliced radish and cukes, and a light soy dressing. Refreshing.
This was a damn good burger. Saucy and oozy, sitting on a fluffy, toasted brioche-y bun. The shredded iceberg is a fun touch. For some reason, I’ve regressed to being 8 years old and have had a recent hankering for shredded iceberg lettuce.
A lot of people are talking Metrovino these days, particularly about their sexy modern Enomatic® wine dispensing system that takes up an entire wall behind the bar. I am but a lowland plebeian of boorish fancy, so I know not of such conceits. But the food’s pretty good.
Metrovino Bistro Bar Bottle
1139 NW 11th Ave
Portland, OR 97209-3469
(503) 517-7778
A recent trip to Tigard’s own Taqueria Sanchez confirmed that they’re still delivering excellent tacos on the 99W.
I’ve long been a fan of their tortillas, and the last couple visits have revealed that perhaps they either have changed up their recipe or perhaps changed their process. These tortillas seem to lack a slight bit of “sponginess”. These were still excellent, hand-made tortillas, but they did seem to have more of a “char” to them.
Asada.
The fish is always a crowd pleaser.
Wonderfully crispy pastor.
Full metal jacket taco. At Sanchez, the verde has more heat than its red counterpart. Both combine to cause a fair amount of scalp sweating every time I leave.
Sanchez Taqueria
13050 SW Pacific Hwy
Tigard, OR 97223
Phone: (503) 684-2838
I have a special place in my heart for wonton noodle soup.
Many people wouldn’t be caught dead at Golden Horse considering the location (across the street from a strip club, at the ass end of “Chinatown”) and how much of a dive it’s considered to be, but after a night of drinking (with only have $9 in your pocket) sometimes a hot bowl of soup—with a healthy dollop of chili oil glop—really does hit the spot. And at Golden Horse, they even add a nice amount of bok choy sum, cutting the flour, meat and MSG with a nice vegetal edge. And you’ll still have $2 leftover for the bus fare.
Like I mentioned, I have a special place in my heart for wonton noodle soup. A dirty restaurant, in one of Portland’s lesser neighborhoods, on a lonely weekday evening, only seems to enhance that fondness.
Golden Horse Seafood Restaurant
238 NW 4th Ave
Portland, OR 97209-3806
(503) 228-1688
The All-Inclusive All-You-Can-Eat Buffet Guide (Eating the Road, a food blog)
In my more gluttonous days this would be invaluable.
Street food: Is it what’s next?. (WaPo)
Doing street food better is the goal of the CIA’s 12th Worlds of Flavor conference. More than 700 corporate chefs, restaurateurs and writers are here to learn from 75 cooks, hawkers, barbecue masters and authors about street snacks and global comfort foods. Many hope to turn a few of the recipes into the next culinary big thing.
At last night’s welcome session, more than a dozen chefs strutted their stuff. Roberto Santibanez, owner of food New York consulting firm Truly Mexican, made tortas, a Mexican ham-and-cheese sandwich that you can easily imagine popping up on the menu at Panera Bread or Cosi. Bobby Chinn took his five minutes to throw together a fragrant bowl of bun bo xoa, a Vietnamese beef noodle soup. If you haven’t heard of Chinn yet, my bet is it won’t be long before you do. The owner of Restaurant Bobby Chinn in Hanoi is fun, funny and oh-so telegenic.
Food blogging raconteur Eat Drink & Be Merry recently showed Vendr TV a few the finer points of the Los Angeles taco scene.
Tacos are great. They really are.
I’m a big fan of Grand Central. I love their branding, and have been enjoying their bread and pastries since I’ve moved to Portland over 7 years ago.
During breakfast, Grand Central serves an egg sandwich with an absolutely fantastic tomato jam/relish that is at once sweet and savory. I’ve tried recreating it at home a couple times, even creating a sun dried tomato jam that was nice but turned out a bit too cloyingly sweet for a breakfast sandwich. It never occurred to me to ask someone at Grand Central for the recipe. And it probably never will.
So I considered it a moment of great serendipity when The Oregonian ran a special on breakfast sandwiches last year and printed the recipe for Grand Central’s tomato jam. I’ve prepared it at home, and consider this recipe a faithful recreation of the original.
(Above: homemade egg-and-bacon sandwich on toasted Grand Central bolo roll, topped with tomato jam. Recipe below).
Grand Central’s Tomato Jam/Relish
- 1/4 cup sliced sun-dried tomatoes (dry-packed, not oil-packed)
- 1/4 cup olive oil
- 1 large white onion, diced
- 1 large leek, diced
- 1 28-ounce can diced tomatoes (Grand Central uses Muir Glen brand), drained, juices reserved
- 2 tablespoons firmly packed brown sugar
- 3 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
- 1 tablespoon kosher salt
In a small bowl, cover the sun-dried tomatoes with boiling water. Let sit until soft, about 10 minutes. Drain, reserving the soaking liquid, and purée in a food processor. Add a little of the soaking liquid if the purée is too stiff. Set aside.
Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the onions and cook until they begin to caramelize, about 10 minutes. Turn heat down and add diced leeks. Cook until the leeks are tender, 6 to 8 minutes longer.
Combine the reserved juice from the canned tomatoes with the sun-dried tomato purée. Add to the onion-leek mixture in the pan and turn up the heat, stirring until the liquid evaporates.
Add brown sugar, balsamic vinegar and salt. Reduce the heat to low and cook until the sugar and salt are dissolved. Remove from heat, cool, and stir in uncooked canned diced tomatoes. Adjust seasoning to taste. Store covered in the refrigerator for up to 4 weeks, or freeze for up to 6 months.
This market sold a variety of goods. I made note of the precisely hygienic quality that deeply imbued the soul of this well-coiffed, yet strangely alluring, seaside entrepôt.
Ferry Building Marketplace
http://www.ferrybuildingmarketplace.com
I would link to Google Maps, but as of this moment, Google is telling me it’s located in Hackettstown, NJ, which I’m sure is a lovely place, but it is clearly not in San Francisco.
Looks like Eater’s near-term expansion plans included our very own burg (Eater PDX). Must have been all those breathless articles written in the New York Times over the last few years.
I like game hens. They are like chickens, except in diminutively exact scale. You can eat an entire game hen at one sitting and not feel like a glutton. So I eat two.
One thing that worries: are “game hens” simply baby chickens prematurely slaughtered on a factory farm? Is this a moral quandary for which I’m ill equipped to handle due to my own shortcomings? My failure to subscribe to a moral imperative derived from a careful exploration of Kantian ethics? Or are these really indeed “game” birds that have lived a fruitful life wandering the short brush of Appalachian foothills until they met their untimely fate? I’d prefer to subscribe to the fatalism of the latter, though the former is most likely closer to the inconvenient truth.
In any regards, this is some delicious poultry.
This is a simple recipe for excellent grilled game hens. Since they are small, you can grill them on an open flame without having to spatchcock the bird (though certainly if you want to butterfly it to cut down on cooking time you could).
The marinade is simply a deep rub of the Vietnamese “sate” condiment, a wonderfully reddish and fiery paste of lemongrass, fish sauce, and chilies. My recipe is cribbed straight from Andrea Nguyen, who I considered the Julia Child of Vietnamese cuisine in these here United States.
You can also buy jarred versions of sate (not to be confused with “satay”) sauce at any Asian store that specializes in the Southeast Asian ingredients, and that should work in a pinch. It should be an oily, deep hue of red, with lots of “gritty”-ness (from the aromatic alliums and lemongrass).
Sate Grilled Game Hens
- 2 Game Hens
- 6 tablespoons prepared sate condiment (see Andrea’s recipe)
- 2 stalks of lemongrass, ends and nubs removed (and set aside) and finely minced
- 4 ounces lager beer
- Dozen kaffir lime leaves
- Discarded tops and nubs of various lemongrass stalks (from those used to make the sate and from the fresh lemongrass I just told you about)
In a small bowl, combine sate, minced lemongrass, and beer. Mix into a paste. Rub all over each game hen and in the inner cavities. Stuff the inner cavity with lime leaves and lemongrass discards. Allow to marinate 4-12 hours in the fridge.
Prepare a charcoal grill, piling the coals disproportionately with one hot side and one cool(er) side. Once the coals are hot, grill over hot heat, turning often to get grill-y marks on all quadrants of the bird. Move to the cool side of the grill and cover (opening up the slot vents). Roast for 20 minutes, turning every 5 minutes. Set aside and let rest.
I could eat this forever and a day with plain, steamed jasmine rice.
I was recently in Los Angeles for a conference. I decided a much needed respite from listening to a company lie about their software all day involved hitting happy hour at the Roy’s that was a few blocks from the convention center. Lucky for me they had food, drinks, AND a television that was broadcasting that evening’s National Football contest between the Packers of Green Bay (Wisconsin) and the Vikings of Minnesota.
Sliders. Officially “Teppanyaki Grilled Beef Sliders with Chipolte Aioli & Sweet Potato Chips”.
Poke. Officially “Yellow Fin Ahi ‘Poketini’ – Wasabi Aioli, Avocado and Tobiki Caviar”. This was great.
Drinks. Pomegranate Mojito and Hawaiian Martini. Officially very, very gay. But very refreshing nonetheless.
Luckily, I was able to salvage some vestige of my diminishing manhood by watching football while I peed.
I’m not sure why, but after I paid up and was about to leave (you can tell by the sun going down causing all the noise on my iPhone’s camera), some guy brought me this salmon tempura roll “on the house”. Maybe they felt sorry for me for sitting alone and ordering a white, frothy drink with a big ole’ pineapple jutting out from one side, and decided to show some compassion and give me an “amuse douche.” In any regard, it was a fairly nice gesture.
Roy’s mines that fusion territory that approaches gimmicky, but for my first visit I have to say they do it rather well.
Botegga Louie in downtown Los Angeles.
Gazpacho and tagliatelle bolognese.
Gazpacho “stock” being poured onto brunoise vegetables and extra virgin olive oil (the soup is presented deconstructed, and constructed upon serving).
Tagliatelle bolognese
Bottega Louie Restaurant and Gourmet Market
Lunch in the garden edition.
Meat is murder on the environment. (New Scientist)
A kilogram of beef is responsible for more greenhouse gas emissions and other pollution than driving for 3 hours while leaving all the lights on back home.
This is among the conclusions of a study by Akifumi Ogino of the National Institute of Livestock and Grassland Science in Tsukuba, Japan, and colleagues, which has assessed the effects of beef production on global warming, water acidification and eutrophication, and energy consumption. The team looked at calf production, focusing on animal management and the effects of producing and transporting feed. By combining this information with data from their earlier studies on the impact of beef fattening systems, the researchers were able to calculate the total environmental load of a portion of beef.
Their analysis showed that producing a kilogram of beef leads to the emission of greenhouse gases with a warming potential equivalent to 36.4 kilograms of carbon dioxide. It also releases fertilising compounds equivalent to 340 grams of sulphur dioxide and 59 grams of phosphate, and consumes 169 megajoules of energy (Animal Science Journal, DOI: 10.1111/j.1740-0929.2007.00457.x). In other words, a kilogram of beef is responsible for the equivalent of the amount of CO2 emitted by the average European car every 250 kilometres, and burns enough energy to light a 100-watt bulb for nearly 20 days.
The calculations, which are based on standard industrial methods of meat production in Japan, did not include the impact of managing farm infrastructure and transporting the meat, so the total environmental load is higher than the study suggests.
1 delicious bite in.
The AHT Guide to Hamburger and Cheeseburger Styles. (A Hamburger Today)
Excellent compendium from Mr. Kuban.
Above: incredibly noisy snapshot of the biwa ramen with egg, taken with camera phone. The late night counter special is a real deal. Soup: $5 (+ $1 egg add on).
Biwa has really stepped up its ramen game. Deep, dark broth, flavored with roasted onion and specks of coagulated fat. I love what they are doing with their fresh noodles. Curly and toothsome. The egg was beautifully soft-boiled, tempting you to tip each half in order to spill delicious clouds of billowing yolk into the broth.
Very simple (garnished only with chopped green onion), but satisfying. Perfect late night noshing.
biwa
215 SE 9th Ave
Portland, OR 97214
(503) 239-8830
Cocoon Cooker Grows Meat and Fish from Heated Animal Cells. (Fast Company)
Here’s a food-related invention that is even weirder than the notorious Beanzawave: The Cocoon, a concept cooker that grows meat and fish from heated animal cells in a process that looks disturbingly similar to magic animal growing capsules.
Designed by Richard Hederstierna of the Lund Institute of Technology, Cocoon took first place today in the Electrolux Design Lab Competition. Hederstierna’s device uses RFID signals to discern the type of fish or meat inserted into the cooker. The meat’s muscle cells, nutrients, and oxygen are heated for a preset time, and voila, delicious meat is born, sans the whole killing animals part.
I’ve been waiting for this since I first read William Gibson’s Neuromancer.
I haven’t been eating much because there are currently like 50 sutures in my mouth, so lately I’ve had to limit myself to soft foods and lots of soups. Here’s one soup I’ve recently enjoyed.
Split Pea Soup with Smoked Bacon
- 1 1/2 pound split peas, rinsed
- 8-9 slices thick slab smoked bacon, the smokier the better
- 8 cups quick vegetable stock (directions to follow)
- 1 small white onion, diced
- 3 carrots, peeled and diced
- 3 stalks celery, diced
- 6 cloves garlic, lightly bruised
- 1/4 bunch parsley, whole leaves
- 7-8 broad green chard leaves, stem and white “backbone” removed
- 1 tablespoon chopped fresh rosemary
- 1 teaspoon chopped fresh thyme
- 1 tablespoon chopped fresh oregano
- 1 tablespoon chopped fresh mint
- 1 cup white wine
- 1/4 bunch parsley, finely chopped and set aside
- Sea salt
- Coarse ground pepper
- Finely ground white pepper
Generously cover peas with boiling water and soak for 4 hours. Strain.
Start the quick vegetable stock
In a small stockpot, combine:
- 9 cups water
- The 1 inch ends and nubs of entire celery stalk, plus 2 stalks
- 1 onion, halved
- 3 unpeeled carrots, halved
- the “garbage” half end of an entire parsley bunch (stems and few leaves)
- 1 tablespoon peppercorns
- 1 tablespoon white peppercorns
- 6 bay leaves
Bring to a bowl, then lower to simmer for at least 90 minutes.
Mix the chopped herbs (save the chopped parsley)
Combine onion, carrots, celery, parsley leaves, garlic, and chard into your “aromatics” bowl.
Dice the bacon into 1/2 inch squares. Heat a large dutch oven over medium heat, and add bacon and a pinch of herb mixture and sautee for 10 minutes or more. Bacon should be brown and give off a lot of fat.
Using slotted spoon, remove bacon crispies to a dish lined with a paper towel, leaving about 1 tablespoon or so of bacon meat sitting in the pan in a nice pool of shimmering bacon fat.
Add the aromatic vegetables to the pan, sprinkle with 1 teaspoon of salt, a few fresh grinds of pepper, and the remainder of the herbs, and saute for 10 minutes, until the vegetables start to get soft. Turn up the heat to highest possible setting (stirring constantly), and when the pan starts to smoke deglaze with white wine, all the while stirring and scraping up the fond from the bottom of the pan.
Add split peas, and stir. Drain vegetable stock into the dutch oven, stir repeatedly and bring the entire pot to a boil. Season with more salt pepper (black and white), and lower to a simmer. Simmer for 1 hour.
Use an immersion blender and pulse over the course of 30-40 seconds to create a semi-smooth consistency. Return to pot, add bacon, stir and cover and allow to simmer over lowest setting for another 30 minutes.
Garnish with chopped parsley, sea salt, and a drizzle of olive oil. Sure, it looks a bit like baby food, but when you can’t chew, a smoky, nutritious bowl of velvety goodness is quite welcome.
Big Food vs. Big Insurance . (Pollan in the NY Times)
No one disputes that the $2.3 trillion we devote to the health care industry is often spent unwisely, but the fact that the United States spends twice as much per person as most European countries on health care can be substantially explained, as a study released last month says, by our being fatter. Even the most efficient health care system that the administration could hope to devise would still confront a rising tide of chronic disease linked to diet.
That’s why our success in bringing health care costs under control ultimately depends on whether Washington can summon the political will to take on and reform a second, even more powerful industry: the food industry.
According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, three-quarters of health care spending now goes to treat “preventable chronic diseases.” Not all of these diseases are linked to diet — there’s smoking, for instance — but many, if not most, of them are.
We’re spending $147 billion to treat obesity, $116 billion to treat diabetes, and hundreds of billions more to treat cardiovascular disease and the many types of cancer that have been linked to the so-called Western diet. One recent study estimated that 30 percent of the increase in health care spending over the past 20 years could be attributed to the soaring rate of obesity, a condition that now accounts for nearly a tenth of all spending on health care.
I’ve had oral surgery recently and have been limited to soft foods. As a result, my normal routine has been eviscerated, as I’ve been drinking a lot of soymilk protein shakes and eating a lot of soups.
As summer plays out its final days, it’s been extremely frustrating as this is when you want to get in some quality outdoor grilling time. Normally, I would spend my weekends grilling ribs, chicken, steaks, burgers, etc. in the twilight. However, I can’t eat any of that.
I can, however, eat the delicate, sweet flesh from the sea, and have been using it as a foil to scratch my outdoor grilling itch.
Grilled Halibut (Marinated in Olive Oil, Sel Gris and Herbs)
Place a nice, thick filet of halibut (skin on the bottom) in a shallow dish and cover it generously with extra virgin olive oil, and turn a couple times to coat. Coat the skinless side with a generous layer of coarse sel gris and fresh cracked pepper, and use your hand to pat down the seasonings. Allow to marinade for at least a few hours.
Right before building your grill, top with chopped fresh thyme, whole fresh mint leaves, and a couple garlic cloves forced through a garlic press.
Build your grill. I’ve got one of these slotted grill “skillets” that is perfect for grilling fish filets. Since I’m not blackening the fish, and halibut is a delicate flesh, I prefer to build a low flame with a minimal amount of charcoal.
Place the filet, non-skin side down, making sure the herbs and garlic aren’t displaced.
Grill for 2-4 minutes (depending on the strength of your fire), and flip over.
What to eat with your grilled halibut? If you’re lucky, like me, to have a sous chef, you can skirt child labor laws and put them to work on grilling a bundle of fresh spinach leaves while you kick back and enjoy a nice glass of whatever pleases you.
Hey, you’re outside, it’s summer, the grill is your plate. Time to eat.
From Deep Pacific, Ugly and Tasty, With a Catch. (NY Times)
“Most Americans have no clue that hoki is often what they’re eating in fried-fish sandwiches,” SeaFood Business, an industry magazine, reported in April 2001. It said chain restaurants using hoki included McDonald’s, Denny’s and Long John Silver’s.
Ominous signs of overfishing — mainly drops in hoki spawns — came soon thereafter. Criticism from ecological groups soared. The stewardship council promotes hoki as sustainable “in spite of falling fish stocks and the annual killing of hundreds of protected seals, albatross and petrels,” the Royal Forest and Bird Protection Society of New Zealand said in May 2004.
Sometimes you get so caught up in life…so caught up in the bullshit. Distracted by mindless trifles and ill-perceived controversies, you forget about certain things that once existed in this world, things so awesome words cannot be conjured to accurately describe their wondrous existence.
This Hall and Oates video is one of those things.
Hong Phat market is hidden on the east of NE Sandy, just north of NE Prescott, where Prescott hits NE99th. “Kinda near the airport” is how I would describe it to people, but to this point nobody has asked.
Hong Phat is primarily a Vietnamese market, and as such, represents one of the Portland’s better entries in this genre.
The food at the deli is wide, varied, and randomly available. Huge bun dishes, loaded with meat and veggies and nuoc cham, almost enough to feed two. Every rice permutation imagineable. Pickles, fermented veggies, bun cuon, goi cuong, it’s all here, and fairly well made.
They make good house-made cha lua here, including the fried “cha chien” (upper left) that once caught the fancy of a young lad who happened to be the Portland Mercury Editor.
There’s no “butcher” counter per se, but there is a large butchering operation on-site that churns out quick-packed flats of common cuts and assorted flesh.
The dried, instant noodle aisle is par for course, featuring many of the usual standards.
I absolutely love the herb variety at hong phat. As is the custom in many Asian markets, fresh herbs are wrapped in self-contained flats and are ridiculously cheap.
Bitter melons, thai eggplant…a great selection of the pre-wrapped “niche” veggies.
This smorgasbord of ingredients as been pre-arranged for a eventual date as some canh chua.
An excellent pickle selection. Here are bitter mustard greens and pickled garlic.
Hong Phat Market
9819 NE Prescott St
Portland, OR 97220-3550
(503) 254-8280
Always a good time. @La Tienda San Francisco
A recent afternoon in North Beach, San Francisco, at Sotto Mare.
In Praise of the All-American Mexican Hot Dog. (NY Times)
“A ketchup-and-mustard hot dog is boring,” continued Ms. Murillo, a high school senior. “They’re not colorful enough. You’ve got to make them colorful, and pile on the stuff. The best hot dogs come from Sonora,” the Mexican state immediately to the south. “Everybody knows that.”
In Tucson more than 100 vendors, known as hotdogueros, peddle Sonoran-style hot dogs — candy cane-wrapped in bacon, griddled until dog and bacon fuse, garnished with a kitchen sink of taco truck condiments and stuffed into split-top rolls that owe a debt to both Mexican bolillo loaves and grocery store hot dog buns.
Many, like Ruiz Hot-Dogs on Sixth Avenue, work step-side carts with two-item menus of Sonoran hot dogs and soft drinks. Set in dirt and gravel parking lots, beneath makeshift shelters, under mesquite tree arbors, these peripatetic vendors serve fast food for day laborers, craftsmen and policemen, the typical patrons of traditional hot dog stands in any town.
What’s Inside a Slim Jim?. (Wired)
Beef
It’s real meat, all right. But it ain’t Kobe. The US Department of Agriculture categorizes beef into eight grades of quality. The bottom three—utility, cutter, and canner—are typically used in processed foods and come from older steers with partially ossified vertebrae, tougher tissue, and generally less reason to live. ConAgra wasn’t exactly forthcoming on what’s inside Slim Jim.Mechanically separated chicken
Did you imagine a conveyor belt carrying live chickens into a giant machine, set to the classic cartoon theme “Powerhouse”? You’re right! Well, maybe not about the music. Poultry scraps are pressed mechanically through a sieve that extrudes the meat as a bright pink paste and leaves the bones behind (most of the time).Corn and wheat proteins
Slim Jim is made by ConAgra, and if there are two things ConAgra has a lot of, it’s corn and wheat.
I’ve had swiss chard like this all summer long.
Burgerville: Get your calorie bill here. (KATU.com)
At the Burgerville on Northeast Martin Luther King Boulevard, they’re serving up more than just burgers and fries.
The new receipts there not only show customers what they order, but also the nutritional value for exactly how they ordered it.
“Guests order and ask for different things: different buns, different cheeses, different sauces, different everything,” said Jeff Harvey, president and CEO for Burgerville. “So to put a label on the menu is not going resolve that challenge.”
Right now this caloric-bill program is just a pilot program. But it could be expanded to more stores in September.
“It’s kind of nice,” said Burgerville customer John Spaith. “If I was watching my weight more this would be very helpful.”
We decided to put the system to the test, to see just how much you can ‘save.’ We ordered up the cheeseburger basket.
The first part of the receipt shows the cheeseburger we ordered that’s 639 calories. The french fries, that’s a regular serving, that’s 360 calories. And the shake, the special one that’s in stores right now, that alone is 840 calories.
I had the good fortune to spend a recent birthday lunch at Andina, Portland’s destination for upscale Peruvian fusion cuisine.
Soon after menus were dropped, we were presented with bread and this trio of salsas. At the far end was a mild, smooth and creamy salsa infused with peanuts, in the middle a vibrant, fruity puree, and at the near end a fiery, intense salsa verde. All were absolutely great, with the heat factor intensifying as you worked from creamy to verde.
PIMIENTO PIQUILLO RELLENO “Piquillo peppers stuffed with cheese, quinoa and Serrano ham”
Pimiento cross-section. A perfect appetizer. Light, refreshing.
ANTICUCHO DE PULPO “Grilled octopus kebob with rocoto and caper chimichurri”
One of the better octopus dishes in recent memory. It was served on top of a delicious, savory, starchy (yuca/cornmeal?) puree—I could have eaten a whole bowl of this stuff.
A LA CHALACA “Sashimi-style fresh fish in an ají Amarillo vinaigrette, served with corn salsa criolla”
Today’s fish featured Ono. The ají Amarillo had just the right level of heat to punch up this raw dish. I could drink the vinaigrette straight up in a shot glass.
AJÍ DE GALLINA “Succulent pulled chicken in an ají Amarillo, peanut, and cream-based sauce served with yellow potatoes, white rice, and Botija olives and hard-boiled egg”"
Comfort food at it’s finest. Portland would be well-served by a food cart dishing out Peruvian home cooking such as this.
CONCHAS A LA PARILLA “Grilled diver scallops with a garlic lime butter sauce and crispy onions”
The scallop was wonderfully grilled, slightly opaque in the center, with a mild sauce accentuated with a bit of soy. The onions could have been a bit more crisply flash-fried.
Andina continues to be one of Portland’s brightest shining stars, with expertly presented, colorful dishes and vibrant flavors churned out with punctual regularity. A true gem.
Andina
1314 NW Glisan St
Portland, OR 97209
503-228-9535
Andina on THE WORLD WIDE WEB
Food Dude’s Review.
PDX Plate.
PortlandFood.org.
Bruce/Wineguyworld has been here.
So has KAB.
With the local press and food bloggers all aflutter (and rightfully so) with the homemade goodness that rotates daily at nearby HA&VL, it can be easy to overlook the deliciousness that is served up every day (and night) at Ngoc Han Bún Bò Huế.
I myself just recently revisited after a months long dry spell. One early weekend morning I happened upon a full-on crowd scene at HA&V (the wait was about 15 minutes, which, for me, is about 14 minutes too long). Lucky for me, Ngoc Han Bún Bò Huế is just a few blocks north, on SE 82nd & Harrison.
On this particular occasion, I opted for the dac biet (“kitchen sink” version).
The dac biet version features abundant slices of rare beef (the same lean, thinly shaved eye of round that graces pho tai) in addition to the plethora of other meats, including a peppery, house made cha lua that is some of the tastiest pork loaf this side of the Willamette. As you can see, you need to bring your “A” game if you want to power down this bowl of soup. It is not for the faint of heart or those possessing weak-willed alimentary canals.
I immediately remove the knuckles and set them aside for post-meal nibbling.
Ngoc graces you with the most prolific herb n’ salad plate in town, overflowing with perilla, rau ram, sprouts, and—as is customary with Bún Bò Huế—shredded lettuce and banana blossoms.
When the garnish graces the soup all proper like, an impressive bowl gets even more impressive-er.
In addition to the salad plate, this nuoc mam spiked with chopped bird chilies adds an immediate and visceral kick.
At Ngoc, if you request “spicy”, you’re given a stout dollop of fiery red sate sauce that blends effortlessly into an already spicy and fragrant broth.
Ngoc and HA&VL, with just a moment’s walk between the two, bookend Portland’s ground zero for soup noodles. On 82nd Avenue, the best Vietnamese bowls—hell, the best soups in all of the city—are slurped not at Pho joints, but rather served at shops that don’t even serve pho. Seek them out.
Ngoc Han Bún Bò Huế
8230 SE Harrison St Ste 315
Portland, OR 97216
(503) 774-2761
Ngoc Han Bún Bò Huế on THE WORLD WIDE WEB
My on-again, off-again, on-again boycott of Whole Foods IS BACK IN THE SADDLE, BITCHES.
The Whole Foods Alternative to ObamaCare. (Wall Street Journal)
Personal responsibility…blah blah…people are to blame for not having health care…blah blah…socialezm is teh evil…blah blah…people should buy $1 kumquats at my store if they want to live to be 100.
Fuck John Mackey, who is the world’s most notorious sockpuppet. I’m surprised he didn’t simply byline this op-ed with “I Hump Ayn Rand’s Rotting Corpse.”
Snob Appeal. (Wash Post)
In the food world, and in that especially obsessive corner populated by tomato aficionados, heirlooms are the embodiment of all that is good, which is to say they are not perfectly round, perfectly red and utterly tasteless supermarket tomatoes. We food snobs prize heirlooms for their personalities. These old-fashioned varieties are lumpy, cracked and creviced, with glorious names such as Casady’s Folly or Mullens’ Mortgage Lifter (which is not to be confused with Radiator Charlie’s Mortgage Lifter or Quisinberry’s Mortgage Lifter). And they come in nearly all the colors of the rainbow. They can be red, of course. But they are also yellow, streaked with tangerine like a summer sunset, pale green, bronze-and-purple and bruised black as if they’ve just escaped from a backyard tomato smackdown.
I have eaten terrific heirloom varieties; indeed, I’m quite partial to the Black Prince, which hails from Siberia, a place one doesn’t normally associate with tomatoes. But a week ago, I paid $4.99 a pound for a locally grown heirloom that was slightly mealy, tasted overwhelmingly bland and paled in comparison with a perfectly round, perfectly red commercial hybrid, dubbed Early Girl, that I ate last year and am still dreaming about at the height of this year’s tomato season.
Call me persnickety, but someone needs to take a stand here: “Heirloom” is not synonymous with “good.”
I have a Black Prince plant that has grown into a towering monstrosity over the last couple months but has yet to yield a single fruit. I suck.
Pork chops, yukon golds, and green beans edition. As seen from the Weber in my herb garden.
I’ve heard many good things about Little T American Baker on Southeast Division, and finally stopped by recently–albeit only to score a large baguette for that night’s dinner with the in-laws.
I was nearly tempted to grab a sandwich, but the large bowl of bun bo hue I had just finished 10 minutes ago stifled what would have been an ill-advised gluttonous decision.
They bake a mean baguette at Little T’s. Wonderfully crusty, with a chewy, airy interior. It was impossible to resist repeated nibbles off one end as I drove home.
This reminded me of the loaves my mom brought home from the French bakeries in Little Saigon (Westminster) when I was 6 years old. As soon as the bag hit the kitchen counter, I’d dig out rock-size chunks from a crisp loaf, and smoothly swipe a broad edge through a dulcet puddle of thick, rich sweetened condensed milk. Before you know it, you’ve eaten an entire baguette.
I could see myself eating an entire loaf with a bowl of mussels. I shall return for sandwiches.
Little T American Baker
2600 SE Division St
Portland, OR 97202-1253
(503) 238-3458
Little T American Baker on THE WORLD WIDE WEB
I recently got this Ebelskiver pan from Williams-Sonoma just to prove to myself I could be a navel-gazing self absorbed yuppie elitist if I put my mind to it. I mean, a fucking pan just to make Ebelskiver? From Williams-Sonoma? Can one be more solipsistic? Do I own some sparsely furnished, post-modern pancake house that caters to existentialist Scandinavian misanthropes?
In any regard it’s pretty neat, and my daughter loves eating this things for weekend breakfast. And it’s really easy, actually, to “stuff” your ‘skivers by dropping your filling (in this instance, a simple paste of melted butter, cinnamon, and brown sugar) on top of the dough as soon as you pour the batter into the wells.
The filling seeps into the dough, and you’re left with these cute little “popovers.”
Works with impromptu fresh fruit sauces as well.
I’m usually not one for sweet-ish things, but making your own Ebelskiver is heavy on the neat-o factor. I’m looking forward to attempting a savory ‘skiver…pulled pork?
Williams-Sonoma Ebelskiver Recipe (Copied Verbatim More or Less)
Whisk together the flour, baking powder, salt and granulated sugar. In another bowl, lightly whisk the egg yolks, then whisk in the milk and the 4 Tbs. melted butter. Whisk the egg yolk mixture into the flour mixture until well combined; the batter will be lumpy. Using an electric mixer fitted with the whisk attachment, beat the egg whites on high speed until stiff but not dry peaks form, 2 to 3 minutes. Using a rubber spatula, gently fold the whites into the batter in two additions.
Put 1/8 tsp. melted butter in each well of a filled-pancake pan (ME: or use non-stick spray, which is what I used). Set over medium heat and heat until the butter begins to bubble. Pour 1 Tbs. batter into each well. Spoon 1/2 tsp. of the cinnamon filling into the center of each pancake and top with 1 Tbs. batter. Cook until the bottoms are golden brown and crispy, about 3 minutes. Using 2 skewers (ME: or chopsticks!), flip the pancakes over and cook until golden and crispy, about 3 minutes more. Transfer the pancakes to a plate. Repeat with the remaining batter and filling.
I was recently in Chicago with the family, visiting some dear friends, and decided to eat some meat.
Gibson’s is a prototypical old school steakhouse, some would say “an institution”, the kind of place where framed portraits of celebrities are plastered over every inch of wall. This is your chance to eat at the same place where the guy who starred as the bitter paraplegic vet in Forrest Gump devoured a porterhouse. The restaurant is located just north of downtown Chicago at the epicenter (the “G spot”?) of an area known as the “Viagra Triangle”, named presumably because it’s where formerly virile captains of industry bring their silicon-enhanced, pre-fab trophy fillies (with whom they are cheating on their third wives with) to consume Cobb salads and long drink cocktails just prior to chemically enhancing their flaccid male appendages.
The night kicks off when the white-jacketed waitron—a pro’s pro, he’s been doing this his whole life—presents you with a slab of naked meat that’s nearly startling with its immensity and near-pornagraphic bravura. The meat parade is one of the odder steakhouse traditions. It is quite uncomfortable being presented with raw flesh, just inches from your face, while some stranger prods the tepid meat with his index digit. The spiel here is relatively short, straightforward and sticks to the script. Menus are dropped in quick order and drinks are dispatched. Service here consisted of several, interchangeable and well-oiled apparatus – brusquely appropriate and warmly efficient.
Bread is brought immediately.
Gibson’s raison d’etre. The steaks are wet aged, as opposed to dry.
The menus and wine menu. Like many images on this blog, clicking on them will allow the user to view a larger specimen.
We started with this “Crabmeat Avocado”. It was quite good–and expertly carved avocado half, inverted and topped with plenty of sweet crab meat, topped with a tangy goddess-like dressing.
A velvety-smooth lobster bisque and perfunctory caesar salad accompanied our steaks.
I got the bone-in tenderloin. Now, some may say this steak is burnt. I’m not going to go that far, but I will state the exterior char was nearing a level that I’m not normally comfortable with (but not quite).
The steak itself was cooked perfectly to the medium-rare I requested. It was a decent slab of meat, however it could have benefited from a bordelaise sauce, something to add flavor and richness. I’m not sure why I order tenderloin when I know it’s going to be, well, just tenderloin–a mostly flavorless cut, even when it’s prime beef.
And the tarragon-flecked hollandaise it’s served with is a cloying, middling affair.
This sirloin, served atop a red wine reduction, on the other hand, was packed full of flavor. This was excellent the next morning (with some leftover rice) for breakfast.
The sauteed spinach and mushrooms were really just spinach mostly wilted from the heat of the sauteed shrooms. Somewhat disappointing.
And this double baked potato was comically immense.
But really, what is better than fine red wine and fine red prime during a night on the town in the City of Broad Shoulders?
Yippee! Let’s get cake. This slice fed the three of us.
So we had to take the other 4/5ths back home to the fridge, where the cake will stand, uneaten for the most part, in prime real estate on the second shelf, slowly but surely mocking you as a reminder of all the bad decisions you’ve made in your life. This latest, cake-over-ordering episode is simply another instance.
Gibsons Bar & Steakhouse
1028 N Rush St, Chicago
(312) 266-8999
www.gibsonssteakhouse.com
North Korea Opens 1st Fast-Food Restaurant: Report. (Huff Post)
The restaurant’s interior appears to be styled after fast-food joints the world over, but the menu is careful not to call its signature fare a hamburger – lest it give the impression North Koreans had embraced the American icon.
North Korea’s authoritarian government is concerned that outside influences could undermine the regime and pose a threat to leader Kim Jong Il’s tight grip on the nation of 24 million. It balks at using foreign words and coins alternatives in Korean instead.
…
The minced beef and bread at the new fast-food restaurant costs only $1.70, the newspaper said, but that would eat up more than half of the average North Korean’s daily income. South Korea’s central bank put last year’s average per capita income at $1,065.
Burrito chain’s Food, Inc. sponsorship generates off-screen drama over farm-worker issues. (Grist)
On July 13, Chipotle Mexican Grill announced it was throwing its marketing weight behind Food, Inc., a documentary that takes a highly critical look at the food system.
The fast-food chain would be sponsoring free screenings of the film at 32 theaters nationwide. It would also be distributing material promoting the film at all its restaurants—thus exposing people in search of a tasty burrito to a film quite different from the super-hero blockbusters that get promoted in typical fast-food chains. In addition, there’d be a Chipotle-related “bonus feature” in the film’s upcoming DVD.
The Chipotle/Food, Inc. tie-up caught my eye, because just a month before, a group of food writers and activists signed a letter to Chipotle CEO Steve Ells sharply criticizing the chain for its inaction on farm worker rights. The two signees who topped the list were Food, Inc. director Robert Kenner and co-producer Eric Schlosser, who is also prominently featured in the film. (I signed the letter as well.)
Burgerville goes mobile with food truck. (Oregon Live)
Burgerville will introduce a mobile food truck on Thursday near Tom McCall Waterfront Park, inspired by the food carts that have blossomed on downtown Portland lots.
The 24-foot-long truck will sell a limited menu — burgers, fries, soft drinks and vanilla, chocolate and maybe seasonal shakes.
The truck will allow the Vancouver-based company to test a community’s interest in the restaurateur’s products before committing the money to building a permanent location, said Jeff Harvey, president and chief executive officer of The Holland Inc., Burgerville’s parent company.Burgerville is exploring possible sites for a permanent downtown Portland location as well as in the Seattle area, he said.
The truck also will allow Burgerville to have a presence at community events and could serve as a pinch hitter when any of the existing 39 restaurants undergo renovation, he said.
Hot dogs should carry a warning label, lawsuit says. (LA Times, via PAC@theMerc)
The nonprofit Cancer Project filed a lawsuit today on behalf of three New Jersey plaintiffs asking the Essex County superior court to compel the companies to place cancer-risk warning labels on hot dog packages sold in New Jersey.
“Just as tobacco causes lung cancer, processed meats are linked to colon cancer,” says Neal Barnard, president of the Cancer Project and an adjunct professor at the George Washington University medical school in Washington, D.C. “Companies that sell hot dogs are well aware of the danger, and their customers deserve the same information.”
The defendants in the lawsuit, which seeks class-action status, include Nathan’s Famous Inc., Oscar Mayer-owner Kraft Foods Inc., Sara Lee Corp., Marathon Enterprises Inc. and ConAgra Foods Inc., which owns Hebrew National.
I’d be fine with this, as long as they aired a disclaimer before reality television shows that warns potential viewers that watching the program will make you stupid.
La Fuente is occupies a very modest storefront in “old town” Tigard, just set off a ways from Value Village. It’s easy to miss; I’ve driven by it for over a year now without noticing it. It took a recommendation from user Prone to Hyperbole at Portlandfood.org to seek it out.
La Fuente is a proper Mexican restaurant with a full menu.
And the tacos occupy just a subset of the varied offerings.
Things started off in true cantina Mexican fashion with some warm fried tortilla chips and a serviceable tomato salsa (free).
The “tacos mexicanos” — standard taqueria style. The usual litmus test of asada, carnitas, and pastor.
Asada.
Carnitas.
Pastor.
Fully dressed taco.
The table sauces here are mediocre; ExtraMSG at Portlandfood.org pointed out they may very well be the Herdez commercial brand. The tacos themselves were quite good. The pastor is not the best I’ve had, but it was seasoned nicely and was delivered with a nice char. The asada was undercrisped, but well seasoned, and the carnitas was meaty and delicious. The fresh tortillas were soft and pillowy, and reminded me much like the excellent onesTaqueria Sanchez serves just down the road.
This place is worth your time to visit if you’re in the mood for taqueria-style tacos. On the strength of their tacos alone, and considering it’s proximity to my house, it warrants an exploration of its other non-taco offerings as well.
La Fuente
12198 SW Main St
Tigard, OR 97223
(503) 639-3653
La Fuente on the WORLD WIDE WEB
Why junk food really is addictive. (Telegraph UK)
Professor Kessler, ex-commissioner of the US Food and Drug Administration (FDA), claims that manufacturers have created combinations of fat, sugar and salt that are so tasty many people cannot stop eating them even when full.
He argues that manufacturers are seeking to trigger a “bliss point” when people eat certain products, leaving them hungry for more.
“It is time to stop blaming individuals for being overweight or obese,” he said. “The real problem is we have created a world where food is always available and where that food is designed to make you want to eat more of it. For millions of people, modern food is simply impossible to resist.”
While at the FDA, Prof Kessler was well known for his criticism of the tobacco industry, which he accused of manipulating cigarettes to make them even more addictive.
The same can be said about porn.
And make these humorless fucking assholes wallow in their own wankerish, self-righteous, killjoy existence.
Try the “Ris de Veau”, a dish that singlehandedly made me appreciate sweetbreads.
Sel Gris
852 SE Hawthorne Blvd
Portland, OR
97214
(503) 517-7770
Waiter, There’s Deer in My Sushi. (NY Times)
Sushi made with deer meat, anyone? How about a slice of raw horse on that rice?
These are some of the most extreme alternatives being considered by Japanese chefs as shortages of tuna threaten to remove it from Japan’s sushi menus — something as unthinkable here as baseball without hot dogs or Texas without barbecue.
In this seafood-crazed country, tuna is king. From maguro to otoro, the Japanese seem to have almost as many words for tuna and its edible parts as the French have names for cheese. So when global fishing bodies recently began lowering the limits on catches in the world’s rapidly depleting tuna fisheries, Japan fell into a national panic.
Nightly news programs ran in-depth reports of how higher prices were driving top-grade tuna off supermarket shelves and the revolving conveyer belts at sushi chain stores. At nicer restaurants, sushi chefs began experimenting with substitutes, from cheaper varieties of fish to terrestrial alternatives and even, heaven forbid, American sushi variations like avocado rolls.
“It’s like America running out of steak,” said Tadashi Yamagata, vice chairman of Japan’s national union of sushi chefs. “Sushi without tuna just would not be sushi.”
I’m pretty sure if you stuck cream cheese in it and called it a “Bambi Roll” or a “Seabiscuit Maki” all the fucking retards in Scottsdale (or the Pearl) would buy it.
Ahi Poke
- 1/2 pound sashimi-grade ahi block, diced
- 1 stalk chopped green onion
- 1/4 chopped white onion
- 1 tablespoon low-sodium soy sauce
- Squeeze of lemon juice
- 1 tablespoon sesame oil
- Hawaiin red salt
- Grated fresh ginger
- Togarishi (Japanese chili pepper blend)
Combine all ingredients except togarishi. Refridgerate for a bit. Sprinkle with togarishi before serving.
The venerable Sauce Supreme led the way on a tri-city, quad-izakaya crawl (ostensibly) by train last night. Live vicariously at this link.
Phở Nguyễn nestles in a large strip mall anchored by a Fred Meyer on Beaverton Hillsdale Highway at the point Portland segues into Beaverton proper.
It’s a pretty standard Vietnamese pho joint, with a numbered menu and the various combinations of pho.
Goi cuon. They were delivered immediately, which means they were pre-rolled, which is fine if the roll contains more than one paper thin slice of pale boiled pork and a single halved shrimp. Very weak.
The salad plate at Nguyen is very generous, including ample amount of ngo gai, which is essential for pho. The inclusion of sawtooth herb on a garnish plate is usually a good indication a place takes their pho seriously.
Pho tai chin, my standard order.
Close-up of the chin/brisket. Very tender and flavorful.
Phở Nguyễn does a nice job with their soup. I’ve had the pho here a little over half a dozen times, and each bowl has been consistent and satisfying. The broth is neither overpowering nor amazingly nuanced, but it does have a nice balance — this is predictable pho, which is a good thing. I haven’t had anything besides pho here, probably because the insipid goi cuon placed some doubts in my mind.
Phở Nguyễn
4795 SW 77th Avenue
Portland, OR 97225
(503) 297-3389
Phở Nguyễn on THE WORLD WIDE WEB
Pizza Hut to change its name? (MSN Money)
Blame recession cuts. Pizza Hut reportedly is slicing the “pizza” from its name. The fast food chain will now be known simply as “The Hut.”
The chain, which has recently expanded its menu beyond pizza to include pasta, could not immediately be reached for comment Friday. Media and advertising trade publication MediaWeek characterized the name change as an attempt to transform its stores into hip hangouts. There are more than 10,000 Pizza Huts worldwide.
The new “hut” stores will be more than a place to simply pick up some take-out, according to MediaWeek. They will include televisions that broadcast CBS programs such as “Wheel of Fortune” and “Entertainment Tonight.”
The company has tried to become more hip and youth-friendly in recent months. In April, it introduced the Pizza Hut “Twintern,” an employee who uses the online service Twitter to update customers about store events and pop culture news.
This comment is priceless:
Idiots. Simply put, they are idiots. This will backfire. Its marketing 101: dont alter a name the public has come to know well. Now when college guys are sitting around and one of them says, “I wanna go to the hut,” the other guys will think he wants to go to a gay bar.
I first tasted this Martin’s Swiss Dressing about 15 months ago when they were doing an expo at Uwajimaya. I sampled the dressing as a nice coat on simple mixed greens, and immediately experienced priapism of the taste buds.
“Wow,” I thought to myself. (That is the extent of the dramatization).
I quickly grabbed a bottle of Martin’s Swiss Dressing and placed it in my shopping cart. At $5.99 for 8 ounces, it was rather pricey. But for somebody who tosses as much salad as yours truly(!)—I eat a large salad every weekday—this was simply a down payment on deliciousness.
Soon after, as I returned to Uwajimaya for subsequent bottles of dressing, I realized why this dressing had so much influence on my life. Swiss = umami proficiency = the motherland of Maggi. Imagine if the very core essence of Maggi umamish fortitude was somehow emulsified into a velvety smooth nectar suitable for drizzling onto leafy greens (aka “salad dressing”). You would have Martin’s Swiss Dressing.
It very much reminds me of the incredible concotions I ate growing up, whereupon my Mom undoubtedly added a few splashes of Maggi to her Saigon-infused “caesar” salads—replete with a beaten raw egg cracked over the romaine just prior to a shower of grated parmesan before serving.
I used to be mostly a fine olive oil and red vinegar guy, but Martin’s has pretty much changed my life. Packing plenty of saline je ne sai quois, it is the only dressing with which I don’t feel like I need to additionally salt my greens to bring out their true flavor.
Here’s the story behind Martin’s.
I will go on record by saying this is the best commercial salad dressing available on the free market today (and perhaps the salad dressing black market as well). In the year+ since I’ve been buying this stuff religiously at Uwajimaya, the dressing has cropped up in the refrigerated dressing aisles of Portland area New Seasons and Lamb’s Thriftway, as well (the dressing apparently is required to maintain a cold temp).
Martin’s Swiss Dressing
Available at Uwajimaya in Beaverton, Portland area New Seasons, and Portland area Lamb’s Thriftways.
I’ve been a big fan of In-n-Out Burger for what seems like my entire life. Since the chain exists only in California (and more recently Nevada and Arizona) many people are surprised when they finally try In-n-Out for the first time and and don’t have a transcendental experience and spontaneously combust in rapturous orgasm, as this is the occurrence commonly related by thousands of over-ebullient keyboard jockeys on the Internet.
Truth is, In-n-Out is still fast food, but it’s damn good fast food, perfectly executed (in terms of fast food) each time. If In-n-Out were a relief pitcher, it would be Mariano Riviera.
Part of the In-n-Out’s charm has to do with the nostalgia factor and the KISS ethos, and the menu is emblematic of a bygone era when straightforward honesty and a nickel would buy you a cup of coffee. Whereas national chains get all gimmicky up in your grill with Angry Whoppers and flatbread melts, In-n-Out coasts along just nicely with its cutter and split-finger fastball in the low-to-mid-nineties.
Recently I found myself driving through central California, on my way to the Bay Area, when I realized that I had been in the Golden State for nearly a day and had not eaten at In-n-Out. It suddenly dawned on me that eating In-n-Out, in this part of the state, in America’s “salad bowl”, would essentially be a materialization of the entire “eat local” ethic. In-n-Out, after all, is regional to a fault—they choose not to expand mainly due to sourcing concerns. One could safely assume that a substantial portion of the chain’s beef and vegetables was raised on the vast acreage of farmland I was driving through at that very moment. Thus, it only made sense for me to take the next exit off of I-5 and take a 40+ mile detour to Fresno.
I was richly rewarded. For many, the Double-Double (with cheese) is what moves them, but for me two plain old Hamburgers (Animal Style, mustard-ketchup-instead) is standard issue.
At under three-and-a-half bucks, it was perfectly assembled, and the results tasted delicious like every other burger I’ve had at In-n-Out in my lifetime. Not orgasmic—just straightforward, honest, and affordable.
As I drove away, I couldn’t help but notice all the other people who decided they wanted fast food burgers for lunch but did not opt for the In-n-Out that was located in the same strip mall.
All these people are complete idiots.
While driving many miles out of the way to eat “local” might seem a bit misguided from a layman’s perspective, I did purchase some figurative carbon offsets by taking a picture of this wind farm as I drove into Oakland. So there.
Oysters in deep trouble: Is Pacific Ocean’s chemistry killing sea life? (Seattle Times)
In a region that provides one-sixth of the nation’s oysters — the epicenter of the West Coast’s $111 million oyster industry — everyone knows nature can be fickle.
But then the failure was repeated in 2006, 2007 and 2008. It spread to an Oregon hatchery that supplies baby oysters to shellfish nurseries from Puget Sound to Los Angeles. Eighty percent of that hatchery’s oyster larvae died, too.
Now, as the oyster industry heads into the fifth summer of its most unnerving crisis in decades, scientists are pondering a disturbing theory. They suspect water that rises from deep in the Pacific Ocean — icy seawater that surges into Willapa Bay and gets pumped into seaside hatcheries — may be corrosive enough to kill baby oysters.
If true, that could mean shifts in ocean chemistry associated with carbon-dioxide emissions from fossil fuels may be impairing sea life faster and more dramatically than expected.
Miwon BBQ is located in the Fubonn Shopping Center on SE 82nd.
First and foremost, Miwon is a classic Cantonese-style BBQ joint, replete with whole ducks and sides of bbq pig hanging on hooks, ready to be purchased by the pound.
The Buddhist shrines remind me of my Mom’s worship of the jolly, wise fat man.
The BBQ to-go menu.
Miwon is a full-serve restaurant as well. The premier soup, available with either thin rice or egg noodles, is chock full of the BBQ meat items they sell to-go by the pound.
The Super Bowl “A”, featuring roast duck, bbq pork, roast pork, wontons, and egg noodles. If you count wontons (and I do), that’s four types of meat! It really is a feast, and the broth is just mild enough to allow the meats to shine. The greens add a wonderful vegetal counterbalance.
Duck.
Roast pork.
Wonton porn.
Miwon BBQ
Fubonn Shopping Center
2850 SE 82nd Ave
Portland, OR 97266
(503) 501-5008
Restaurants on the Ropes (US News)
When Americans get stressed out, one thing they do is eat. But apparently not enough.
The dismal economy has punished retailers, with companies like Circuit City and Linens ’n Things going extinct and dozens of others losing money. Now it’s hitting their cousins in the restaurant industry, too. The Bennigan’s and Steak & Ale chains were early casualties, going belly up last summer. This year, with Americans cutting back on spending, sales at restaurants could fall by 10 percent or more. Analysts don’t expect widespread closures, but some chains are likely to close unprofitable outlets, cut back on service, and look for other ways to reduce costs.
Los Angeles has it share of problems. And for that, LA likewise amasses its share of detractors who decry the smog, earthquakes, and transparently farcical celebrity sex tapes.
If you’ve read the news lately, you’re aware the state of California is on also the brink of insolvency. As I exited LA one early weekday recent morning, I drove past a local high school. I was greeted by quite a sight: school faculty and students alike in active protest against impending, draconian budget cuts that threaten to turn the LA Unified School District into an instrument more suited to serve a third-world banana republic rather than future adults living in America’s second most populous conurbation. By the time this blog post is published, the radical mouth-breathers holding California’s state legislature hostage may have already decreed that public education (as well as life-sustaining services for the sick and elderly) is just another Socialist folly dispensed from a pile of filthy lucre, one that deliberately engenders class warfare. If what I heard on AM talk radio as I drove north between Bakersfield and Fresno is any indication, there are many fatalists looking forward to their state’s impending implosion.
But I digress, as—despite all these problems—Los Angeles has excellent fried chicken.
Pollo Campero is a Guatemalan chain that has made recent in-roads into America (including a few Wal-marts). The Los Angeles area boasts numerous locations. This is fast-food, and the combos here–in lieu of mashed potatoes, corn, and a biscuit and honey—feature rice, beans and steamed white corn tortillas.
I’m unsure of the exact provenance of the marinade which gives the pollo frito at Campero a reddish hue. I assume it’s spiked with plenty of red chilies—but the chicken is neither spicy nor aggressively seasoned. Finger-torn strips of meat, wrapped in tortillas and topped with garnishes from the self-serve salsa bar (chopped onions, a sub-par salsa fresca, and serviceable verde and red sauces) make serviceable, impromptu fried chicken tacos. Chicken itself off the bone was fantastic, with savory crispness that had me seeking bits of battered goodness hiding in the crevices of a breast rib.
The sides at Pollo Campero were a pleasant surprise. A mild rice–studded with peas stood up relatively well, nothing special.
But the beans—pintos imbued with porky goodness from the bacon and sausage they were simmered with—were very good. Pollo Campero is the type of “boutique” fast food I could live with.
On another end of the fried chicken spectrum, by way of Korea, is Kyochon, an eatery in Koreatown whose culinary reputation has reached near-mythic proportions. Reading Jonathon Gold’s effusive praise in the LA Weekly cemented my desire to see for myself if the fried chicken was worth the price (which starts at $4.99 for 4 wings or 2 drumsticks).
Kyochon features two flavors, a garlic soy or the spicy “original”. I picked up a four pack of spicy wings, and a 2-piece portion of the garlic soy drumsticks.
The chicken pieces they had on hand must have been deemed on the smaller side, as we were actually given three very flavorul and crispy drumsticks…
…and five amazing chicken wings. The smell of these heavenly morsels quickly dominated during the car ride home, and resisting the urge to snack on a wing as I hurtled down Pico Blvd was torturous. I will say these fiery, sticky and sweet wings were some of the best I’ve had. Fuck the celery and blue cheese—give me a bucket of these and crisp pint of lager come football season.
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The tri-tip roast is one of my favorite cuts o’ beef. From the WIKIPEDIA- THE FREE ENCYCLOPEDIA ON THE WORLD WIDE WEB:
The tri-tip is a cut of beef from the bottom sirloin primal cut.[1] It is a small triangular muscle, usually 1.5 to 2.5 lbs. (675 to 1,150g) per side of beef.
…
In much of Europe, the tri-tip is usually sliced into steaks, known as “triangle steaks” in the United Kingdom. In France the tri-tip is called aiguillette baronne and is left whole as a roast.[2] In Northern Germany, it is called Bürgermeisterstück or Pastorenstück, in Southern Germany and Austria Hüferschwanzel, and a traditional Bavarian and Austrian dish serves it boiled with horseradish. In Spain, it is often grilled whole and called the punta de triángulo. In Central America, this cut is also usually grilled in its entirety, and is known as punta de Solomo, and in South America, it is grilled as part of the Argentine asado and is known as colita de cuadril.
I like the tri-tip because it’s big and beefy—it’s ultimately representative what I think “beef” should taste like—and, as long as you have a steady heat source and a decent marinade, cooking tri-tip is relatively easy with predictable results. Asian-style marinades work well, as does grill/roasting. Also, the tri-tip is a lean cut of beef, so you can really pig out.
Tri-tip Roast/Marinade
- 1 tablespoon soy
- 1 tablespoon maggi
- 2 tablespoons worcestshire
- 1 tablespoon sweetened black chinese vinegar
- 8 cloves garlic, smashed and coarsely chopped
- 1/2 white onion, finely diced
- Juice of 1 lime
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
- 2 tablespoons oyster sauce
- Plenty of coarse ground red szechuan, green and black peppercorns (if you think you’ve used too much, then use some more)
Combine all ingredients, pour over tri-tip and turn to coat. Marinade overnight.
Fire up you grill—I like charcoal in a conventional kettle style Weber.
Here’s a technique I’ve come to use more and more. I use a chimney starter for my charcoal. Newspaper in the bottom ignites the bottom layer of charcoal, which builds over the course of 15 minutes to a towering inferno of blazing hot flames. Before dumping this, I like to place the grill grate of my mini Weber kettle on top of the flames and sear my meat, before dumping the coals and finishing the roast over indirect heat under a covered (and vented) dome.
Most timing charts will tell you about a 1/2 hour per pound, I would go less than that if you like your meat more on the pink side. If you have a meat thermometer, you can test for internal doneness. Turn once during roasting, and of course, allow the meat to sit for at least 10 minutes after removing from the grill.
Murder Burger’s staff wear Meat is Murder T-shirts. (The Daily Telegraph via SS’s Twitter)
THERE’S something very confronting about buying a beef burger from a man wearing a “Meat is Murder” T-shirt.
Especially, when it’s his staff uniform.
But that’s how things go at Murder Burger, a New Zealand gourmet burger store that appears to specialise in downplaying itself in that classic Antipodean way, with great results.
I’d rather have the staff wear a shirt that says “Strangeways Here We Come”.
Reasonable Consumer Would Know “Crunchberries” Are Not Real, Judge Rules. (Lowering the Bar, a legal humor blog)
On May 21, a judge of the U.S. District Court for the Eastern District of California dismissed a complaint filed by a woman who said she had purchased “Cap’n Crunch with Crunchberries” because she believed “crunchberries” were real fruit. The plaintiff, Janine Sugawara, alleged that she had only recently learned to her dismay that said “berries” were in fact simply brightly-colored cereal balls, and that although the product did contain some strawberry fruit concentrate, it was not otherwise redeemed by fruit. She sued, on behalf of herself and all similarly situated consumers who also apparently believed that there are fields somewhere in our land thronged by crunchberry bushes.
It’s been a bit over a year since Hakatamon—the Japanese restaurant nestled into the southwest corner of the Uwajimaya superstore in Beaverton—debuted it’s ramen. Known for its hand rolled udon, Hakatamon went on noodle hiatus at the time – claiming that a spike in wheat prices had made making it’s own udon noodles untenable. As they announced a move towards commercially available udon, they also announced that they would debut two ramen dishes in April, 2008, including a tonkotsu (pork bone broth) and a cha sui ramen (stewed pork).
I was quite excited, as my ramen experiences in Portland have been less than stellar. When I first moved here in 2002, I frequented the Koji Osakaya on Macadam and ate their version of both tonkotsu and cha sui ramen regularly. Though they were using clearly pre-fab fresh ramen packages, they did generally an ok job of gussying it up enough to sate my appetite.
Nothing could compare, however, to the excellent ramen I at often in San Diego when I lived there in the late nineties, or the ramen I’ve eaten in the Bay Area. Ramen tastes and one’s idea of what constitutes “good” ramen is one of the most subjective concepts in the food universe. When Biwa opened up in 2006 and served ramen in their excellent izakaya setting, I was very underwhelmed. However, it seemed to be universally held up by others in this fair burg as an excellent rendition of the venerable Japanese noodle soup. For me, it always fell short, but that’s the subject of another post.
Hakatamon also does a fairly good job with some of the Japanese standards. This poke is one of my favorites in town, if only because it’s an excellent value at only $5.95.
The sashimi and nigiri I’ve had heard has been inconsistent, but generally I would have to give them fairly good marks, again for the ratio of value/quality that can be had here. I’ve explored many other items on the menu – katsu, chirashi, (large rice balls studded in the center with a single uemeboshi) – and all has been solid-to-fair.
Back to the ramen. The standard bowl ($7.95) is garnished sparingly with pickled ginger, green onions, a hunk of stewed pork, sliced stewed konbu, and a sprinkling of sesame seeds.
The noodles here are commercial noodles that—if I had a guess (judging by their texture and lack of curliness)—begin the day as dried noodles. Not ideal by any means, but they stand up relatively well.
I will go on record by saying I enjoy the hakata-style ramen at Hakatamon. When they first opened, it seemed to me they were serving two separate, rich and hearty stocks – a cloudier, cream-colored tonkotsu pork bone broth, and a bold, darker version that accompanied the cha sui version. Both were excellent, however the two broth strategy appeared to be ditched shortly after introduction and only one broth (more the former than the latter) is now served.
The cha sui ($9.50) is basically the standard hakata-style with more pork.
And what good pork it is. Fall-apart tender slices of meat, with a hefty amount of fat (and a bit of unctuous skin) that melts away as you bite into it. The broth has the same viscosity as the tonkotsu, nice and thick and “meaty”, and picks up some of the rendering fat from the pork as you eat through it. Slurping up the last few spoonfuls of broth was rich and satisfying, akin to sucking on a pork marrow bone.
Hakatamon
(503) 430-3106
4130 SW 117th Ave
Beaverton, OR 97005
Hakatamon on the WORLD WIDE WEB
Burger King Calls Global Warming “Baloney”. (Memphis Flyer)
Businesses usually don’t court political controversy, but signs at (at least) two Memphis Burger King locations read: “Global Warming is Baloney.” According to one employee at the Burger King on Union Avenue and Pauline, that’s no mistake.
Care to eavesdrop on my incredibly strange conversation with a female BK employee who didn’t identify herself? Read on.
Me: Hi, I’m calling from the Flyer about your sign. Does Burger King really think global warming is baloney?
BK: [Hangup]
Me:(calling back): Your sign out front says global warming is baloney.
BK: I don’t see that sir.
Me: Well it does.
BK: I don’t see that sir… I change the signs and that sign’s been up for a week.
Me: Well, I have pictures that I took this afternoon [cross conversation ensuring I'm calling the correct BK. I am]
Me: So there’s no question that your sign said it and so did one in Midtown. I want to know if it was on purpose or if it was a prank someone pulled on you.
BK: Let me get the manager. [several minutes of dead air then the same or very similar voice picks up.]
BK: Who were you holding for?
Me: A manager, about the sign. I have pictures of the sign and people have called me upset. I just want to know if it’s a mistake or not so I can report it. [rehash of previous conversation]
BK: Let me go outside and look at the sign and I’ll call you right back. [exchange of contact info]
I recently dropped by the Hob Knob Grille on SE Morrison, a new-ish eatery that occupies the former digs of the mediocre Southeast outpost of Salvador Molly’s…
And gave their house ground Hobnob Burger a whirl. It’s an interesting take on a standard, served with a chipotle cream cheese, a tomato jam, lettuce, tomato (sprinkled with fresh ground pepper), and a single Hungarian-style skinny chili.
Thankfully, it’s served on an expertly toasted bun (burgers on ciabatta is the worst culinary trend of this millenium). My burger came out decidedly more on the medium side than the medium rare I requested, but this was a very flavorful, honest burger. The chips, while nice and house made, makes you pine for fries.
Hob Nob is aiming to fill that niche of solid neighborhood eatery. If this burger is any indication, they are doing a fine job.
Hob Knob Grille
3350 SE Morrison St
Portland, OR 97214
503.445.3665
Hob Knob on the WORLD WIDE WEB
Papa Haydn, located on Northwest Portland’s bustling 23rd Avenue, is a destination due to its plethora of dessert and pastry choices. I stopped by a while ago to check out their bistro burger.
Things started off with this French onion soup. The soup was fairly standard, with a thick slab of gruyere melted upon a raft of bread floating atop the earthenware dish. The broth was a bit understated, but the onions were thick and meaty.
The burger came atop a nicely toasted brioche-like bun. Some very good, fresh-cut (near) shoestring fries accompanied the burger.
Mustard and ketchup on the side. The burger here is fairly standard, and the beef is pretty flavorful. My gripe was the shape of the patty. It had a dome shape most commonly associated with a hand-formed backyard patty–too thick in the middle, with tapered edges. As it stood, its total circumference was too sparse to adequately blanket the bun on which it sat.
Lunch ended with this lemon tart with a meringue border. Like I mentioned, Papa Haydn is known for their desserts. This tasted like dessert.
Papa Haydn (West)
701 NW 23rd Ave.
Portland, OR
(503) 228-7317
This hot dog cart is located just south of Jamison Park in the Pearl District.
Presumably the gentleman behind these sauces and rubs has a say in the day-to-day operations of this food cart. I’m too lazy to do the research.
The menu.
A nicely grilled Chicken Italian Sausage, doused with standard condiments and copious amounts of Harry’s sauce.
Northwest Hot Dogs
Jamison Park (NW Johnson and 11th)
http://northwesthotdogs.com
Cheesesteak not Philly’s best sandwich?. (Philly.com)
“I may never eat another Philly cheesesteak – not, at least, when I can have a roast pork sandwich,” a writer opined some weeks ago in the Washington Post.
Tim Warren, who lives in Maryland, was such a big cheesesteak fan that he often made food runs to Philadelphia and found he “wasn’t the only idiot who had driven 100 miles for a $7 sandwich.”
He sided with Pat’s in the Pat’s vs. Geno’s debate.
Now he’s siding with the roast pork vs. cheesesteak.
Because he fell in love.
“The subtle interplay between the pork and the tart greens, between the provolone and the spices in the juices, is heaven compared with the sledgehammer-like cheesesteak.”
Heaven!
“Going from cheesesteaks to roast pork sandwiches was like listening to whatever pop music was on the radio, and one day discovering a station that played Sinatra and Duke Ellington,” he gushed.
Portland firefighter turned restaurateur sues for disability benefits. (Oregon Live)
A former firefighter is suing the City of Portland for $2 million, claiming that it should have to continue to pay him thousands of dollars a month in disability benefits despite the fact that he has succeeded as a nationally known chef.
Thomas K. Hurley filed suit Thursday in Multnomah County Circuit Court, arguing that the city has been “reneging” on its promise to pay him disability benefits as long as he isn’t physically able to work as a firefighter.
The suit doesn’t say how much Hurley was receiving in benefits before the city cut him off, and the city declined to talk about Hurley’s case because of the pending litigation.
According to a 2005 article in The Oregonian, Hurley was collecting $3,948 a month in late 2004. Meanwhile, he had created a high-profile second career running an upscale French restaurant, Hurley’s, in Northwest Portland. He closed the restaurant at the end of 2007 to move to Seattle to focus full-time on a restaurant he’d started there.
Hurley, a fifth-generation firefighter, has said that he fractured his knee when he fell through a second-story floor that collapsed in a fire. He has said he also suffered another injury, hurting his back when thrown by the force of a fire. He has been on disability since 1993.
The city’s Fire and Police Disability and Retirement Fund helped pay for his training at the French Culinary Institute in New York so he could start a new career. The fund also continued to pay him thousands of dollars a month in disability benefits.
Ah, the memories: Hurley’s closes, but not without parting shot. Shorter Thomas Hurley: “Portland, you are a bunch of rubes, you can suck my knob. But I will continue to take your city’s money.”
“I’m moving on to bigger and better things,” says Hurley. “I need to be in a bigger city with more sophistication, more money…”
“Portland wasn’t ready for me,” says Hurley. “People in Seattle love what we do. They don’t mind paying for quality.”
Maybe Seattle doesn’t mind paying for quality, but I’m pretty sure they would mind if their tax money paid your mortgage.
A Chili Sauce to Crow About. (NY Times via @wanderchopstick)
It’s become a sleeve trick for chefs like Jean-Georges Vongerichten.
At the restaurant Perry St., in New York City, Mr. Vongerichten’s rice-cracker-crusted tuna with citrus sauce has always relied on the sweet, garlicky heat of sriracha. More recently, he has honed additional uses. “The other night, I used some of the green-cap stuff with asparagus,” Mr. Vongerichten said. “It’s well balanced, perfect in a hollandaise.”
In Houston, at the restaurant Reef, Bryan Caswell, a veteran of Mr. Vongerichten’s kitchens, stirs sriracha into the egg wash he uses to batter fried foods, from crab cakes to oysters to onion rings. “It’s not heavily fermented, it’s not acidic,” said Mr. Caswell, who has won a devoted following for the sriracha rémoulade he often serves with such fried dishes. “It burns your body, not your tongue.”
Sriracha has proved relevant beyond the epicurean realm. Wal-Mart sells the stuff. So do mom-and-pop stores, from Bristol, Tenn., to Bisbee, Ariz.
Sriracha is a key ingredient in street food: The two Kogi trucks that travel the streets of Los Angeles, vending kimchi-garnished tacos to the young, hip and hungry, provide customers with just one condiment, Huy Fong sriracha.
I was in Los Angeles recently, and entirely upon Oishii Eats’ heads up I decided to hit Umami Burger.
I already had my mind set on the namesake burger. Here’s the rest of the menu:
The Umami Burger interior itself presents a stylish, yet comforting, modernity.
The raison d’etre.
Triple pork burger with fries and “umami” ketchup.
Triple pork burger.
Umami burger.
Roasted tomato, umami ketchup, shitake mushroom, parmesan crispellete. Amazing. The composition of the burger really spoke to my worldview. Easily one of the top 5 burgers of my recent life.
Malt Liquor Tempura onion rings.
Triple Pork Burger money shot. Ground pork seasoned with chorizo and “cob-smoked” bacon, manchego, and pimenton aioli. Wonderfully spiced. The roasted tomato slice served as a beautiful foil for the rest of the sandwich.
We’ve owned a Saturn in some shape or form for over a decade now, and it’s refreshing to see our customer loyalty rewarded by GM most likely killing the brand altogether. In the meantime, I’ll continue to get the car serviced in Beaverton at the Saturn dealership like I’ve been doing for the last seven years.
I’ve been driving by this place for seven years whenever I’ve traveled to Beaverton to get the Saturn serviced, and it never occurred to me to stop by. Recently, though, after a scheduled maintenance appointment, upon spotting this sign, I realized that I had three dollars.
As you can see, the menu is a mix of old school Spanglish, and is somewhat hilarious.
The “proper” taco menu is an addendum.
Immediately, I was impressed with the prolific garnish opportunities, which included ranch dressing. I liken the appearance of ranch dressing in a restaurant to that of Matthew McConaughey in a movie. It ensures that the experience will be bad.
In addition, these table sauces were available. They were weak and watery.
The taco triumvirate (carne enchilada aka “marinated pork”, asada, carnitas). Each of these were a dollar. I had three dollars.
Asada.
Carne enchilada aka “marinated pork”.
Fully dressed tacos.
If you’re in Beaverton for any reason, I suggest you keep driving.
Mexicali Express
On a street in Beaverton. You will have to look it up yourself, as I can’t in good conscience direct you there by any means.
As seen from the balcony.
Frugal Portland. (NY Times via Dave Knows: Portland via PDXPlate)
Portland’s frugal side is on full display in this NY Times piece. Much love is given to food carts. Video here.
Oprah Gives Out Free KFC in Most Hypocritical Move Yet. (Civil Eats)
It may seem harmless: a mass market “they want it, so I’m giving it to them” kind of campaign. But because Oprah has marketed herself as one who cares about animals, even getting a “Person of the Year” award last year from PETA, this KFC campaign is a serious disappointment to say the least.
This is because KFC buys their meat from Tyson, which is the largest chicken processor in the United States and is known for supporting a conglomeration of chicken CAFOs (concentrated animal feeding operations). Inside these daylight-free hellholes, chickens are crammed so tightly together they can barely move. Worse, if we were to grow as fast as these broilers are bred to grow, we’d be 350 pounds by the time we were 2 years old.
I guess this is a good idea. Assuming there’s one, you know, for regular old food writing as well.
This fake Guy Fieri punk-job is pretty classic.
(Via EMD).
The Pork Lobbyists, Ready to Reassure. (Washington Post)
For going on two weeks, the Washington professionals who represent the nation’s 67,000 pork producers have been in a mad dash to, as President Obama once said, put lipstick on this pig. Hundreds of people have been infected in more than a dozen countries, prompting the closure of scores of schools across the United States, including four in the Washington region.
In Canada over the weekend, officials said a farmworker passed the virus to a herd of hogs. Although the farmer and the pigs apparently have recovered, and top U.S. and Mexican officials yesterday projected a cautious optimism that the new virus is not as lethal as initially feared, intense worldwide focus on swine flu shows no signs of abating.
Each morning, the pork lobbyists assemble to figure out how bad it got overnight. On this day last week, word came that officials in Egypt had ordered the slaughter of every pig in sight — about 300,000 of them. In Iowa, the first two possible cases of swine flu were reported, and the Russians and Chinese were considering banning pork imports from that Midwestern state, America’s biggest hog producer. On CNN, a news anchor teased an upcoming flu segment with footage of dead pigs.
“Worried about the swine flu?” the anchor asked. “Well, it could be worse. You could be a pig farmer.”
Right now, The Food Network is airing a challenge in which the contestants build to-scale replicas of famous span bridges out of breakfast cereal.
I never thought I’d miss Emeril.
<>AybalaAybla nestles itself amongst the conurbation of food carts downtown near the intersection SW 10th and Oak.
As this prominently displayed sign attests, they serve Portland’s best gyro. Although I haven’t had every gyro sandwich in the metro area, I would have to say this boast is probably not too far off the mark.
AybalaAybla does the standard “Kronos” style gyro, as this photo of a rapidly diminishing cone o’ meat demonstrates. The gyro provisions at AybalaAybla are generally shaved a bit thicker than most Kronos joints, and crisped real well. They seem to have a less processed/generic flavor than your standard mystery meat, but that could be just wishful thinking. I’m quite positive they don’t fashion that huge cone o’ meat themselves; most likely—like every Kronos gyro cone establishment east or west of Crete—the meat is factory prefabbed from refuse cuts, pure fat, and various binder agents, and most likely shipped from the same import distribution center in north Jersey or the south side of Chicago with involvement of various degrees by the mafia.
The gyro mob likewise also probably strong arms the forceful distribution of these ubiquitous sandwich wraps. The branding on this wrapper matches neither the restaurant in question, nor the general geographic vincinity. It is therefore hilarious.
But the real hawt action at AybalaAybla isn’t the gyro sandwich, anyhow, it’s the kefta kebab.
Here’s the menu (click to view larger version).
Aybla
925 SW Alder
SW 5th and Oak
Portland, OR
http://www.ayblagrill.com
Aybla on THE WORLD WIDE WEB
2 Portlanders file class-action suit against Western Culinary Institute. (Oregonian)
According to the complaint, the school failed to warn students that their tuition would exceed their ability, upon graduation, to pay off their federal loans. It alleges the school also misrepresented its job-placement rate and failed to disclose that students would “not obtain material benefit from the course of study.”
“A lot of these people have incurred tremendous debt,” said David Sugerman, the Portland attorney representing the students. “When they get out, they often qualify for jobs that pay very little relative to the debt they incur.”
I’ve always said that the ranks of culinary schools at the turn of the century swelled when the congener that is marijuana was mixed with the Food Network. Add to the mix Top Chef, proliferative food blogs, and America’s increasingly distractive tendencies towards hero worship and easy credit, and we now have an epidemic.
“Alice in Wonderland – The gushing of waters is all Wet. (NRO via Food Dude)
In an interview shortly after the groundbreaking, Alice Waters — the organic-food world’s most active and least humorous spokesperson — commented on the new White House vegetable garden: “The most important thing that Michelle Obama did was to say that food comes from the land. . . . People have not known that. They think it comes from the grocery store.”
Oh, really — is that what people think? To whom, exactly, is Ms. Waters referring? Is she referring to the millions of people living in the grain-belt states of Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa, and Missouri — states one cannot drive across without spending hours staring at corn and soybean fields? The millions living along the Pacific Northwest coast and Alaska who are supported by the fishing industry? The fishermen of Gloucester, Mass.? Maybe she is talking about people living in Wisconsin — where dairy farms and cow pastures are as ubiquitous as art galleries in New York. Or perhaps she is referring to the thousands of people like me, who — in the suburbs of an East Coast metropolis — just throw a few Lowe’s-purchased plants in the ground, and hope for some rain to support a small backyard garden. Yes, Ms. Waters, even these “people” know that the grocery store doesn’t spontaneously produce food.
The National Review is dismissive of exponents of post-corporate farming? Color me surprised.
America’s robust agricultural sector has made food cheaper and more plentiful not just for our nation’s citizens, but for the entire world. Environmentalists may dismiss big, industrial farms, but it is these largely American innovations that are helping feed the world, and keeping costs down for coupon clippers like me.
This conclusion is simply emblematic of the National Review’s mindset of Corporatism = Good. No mention of the side effects—intense use of antibiotics and chemicals, the monoculture of commodity agriculture, the circumvention of the natural order—that inevitably result from the mass industrialization of our food chain.
—Julie Gunlock, a former congressional staffer, is now a stay-at-home mom.
How very convenient for her to excoriate Ms. Waters for high-minded condescension and to call her out for casting stones from an ivory tower. I mean, who amongst us doesn’t work from home penning op-eds for a magazine (that is subsidized by ideological largesse) after a career working on Capitol Hill?
I think the point Alice Waters is trying to make, however inartfully it may be portrayed, is that industrialized farming has made everything a commodity, and that is precisely the problem. Food shouldn’t be treated like fungible materials such as petroleum or copper. The mass scale industrialization championed by Ms. Gunlock in practice serves the master of cheap protein. Farm land is usurped by a mostly singular goal to provide calories for livestock in an unnatural setting that requires massive amounts of antibiotics to offset the disease and amelioration that results from taking animals out of existing ecosystems and fattening them in cities that are not unlike an animal husbandry version of “The Matrix”.
The factory farm didn’t exist 50 years ago. Government farm policy in the last half-century has effectively given corporations a massive assist in turning society into a socially engineered petri dish for misbegotten “good” intentions. The result is a strangely bizarre, impersonal and mechanically artificial reality where “efficiency” has trumped common sense.
Proof.
Today is my friend Chad’s birthday. Unfortunately, he’s not here to share it with us, as last November Chad lost his battle with leukemia.
I’ve known Chad since high school, and he was my best friend for nearly 20 years. The godfather to my young daughter. He was the best man in my wedding, and we moved up to Portland together in 2002 shortly after I was married. We shared a moving truck.
His ashes currently rest next to my fireplace. When the time is right, I will accompany his family and his beautiful widow to the San Juan Islands in Washington to spread his ashes and give Chad the final peace his soul deserves.
A short while ago, I received an email from Toro Bravo (I’m on their mailing list), the fine tapas restaurant located in close-in North Portland.
That tall skinny dude in the kitchen IS John; well, at least what’s left of him after shedding about 90 pounds. He is biking, swimming, and running, and he is participating in “Team In Training” that helps fund the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society.
If you would like to help support the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, click on John’s donation page: http://pages.teamintraining.org/or/pctri09/jgorham
Each donation helps accelerate finding a cure for leukemia, lymphoma and myeloma. More than 823,000 Americans are battling these blood cancers.
On behalf of The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, thank you very much for your support!
John=John Gorham, owner and proprietor of Toro Bravo. Last time I was at the restaurant, I did happen to spy a very svelte looking John Gorham working behind the line.
I don’t have a personal affiliation with Toro Bravo. I know they don’t need my endorsement (“Nobody goes there no more; it’s too crowded!”—Yogi Berra), but every meal I’ve had at Toro Bravo has been excellent. They will be hosting a second anniversary open house in early June (Monday, June 1, from 5 p.m. until 10 p.m), with a Leukemia & Lymphoma Society donation box.
Please consider supporting Mr. Gorham’s and Toro Bravo’s efforts on behalf of the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. My dear friend Cynthia Lujan is similarly raising money–all in anticipation for the Seattle Rock n Roll Full marathon on June 27, 2009.
I can’t think of a better birthday present for my friend Chad.
The swine flu crisis lays bare the meat industry’s monstrous power. (Guardian UK)
But what caused this acceleration of swine flu evolution? Virologists have long believed that the intensive agricultural system of southern China is the principal engine of influenza mutation: both seasonal “drift” and episodic genomic “shift”. But the corporate industrialisation of livestock production has broken China’s natural monopoly on influenza evolution. Animal husbandry in recent decades has been transformed into something that more closely resembles the petrochemical industry than the happy family farm depicted in school readers.
In 1965, for instance, there were 53m US hogs on more than 1m farms; today, 65m hogs are concentrated in 65,000 facilities. This has been a transition from old-fashioned pig pens to vast excremental hells, containing tens of thousands of animals with weakened immune systems suffocating in heat and manure while exchanging pathogens at blinding velocity with their fellow inmates.
Swine-flu outbreak could be linked to Smithfield factory farms. (Grist)
The outbreak of a new flu strain—a nasty mash-up of swine, avian, and human viruses—has infected 1,000 people in Mexico and the U.S., killing 68. The World Health Organization warned Saturday that the outbreak could reach global pandemic levels.
Is Smithfield Foods, the world’s largest pork packer and hog producer, linked to the outbreak? Smithfield operates massive hog-raising operations Perote, Mexico, in the state of Vera Cruz, where the outbreak originated. The operations, grouped under a Smithfield subsidiary called Granjas Carroll, raise 950,000 hogs per year, according to the company Web site.
A recent meal at Dang’s Thai Kitchen in Lake Oswego confirms this restaurant to be the among the best in the Portland area, churning out fresh, superlative Thai favorites with consistency.
Som tum (papaya salad). Dang’s is my favorite in town. Spicy and tart. ($6.00)
Fresh tofu spring rolls, served with peanut sauce. Standard and straightforward, though fresh and–at $4.00–quite a bargain.
The ever-popular Angel Wings–boneless chicken wings, stuffed with “sausage” and breaded.($7.00)
Cross section of the fat part of an Angel Wing.
Chicken satay ($6.00), served with peanut sauce, a cucumber vinegar/relish, and toast. A good rendition: lean–yet moist–and very flavorful.
At $13.00, this green curry beef was one of the most expensive items on Dang’s menu, but as you can see above, it’s quite a portion. This was absolutely amazing. Rather than a creamy, coconut-based sauce, this was a stir-fried item, brimming with various eggplants and garnished with a thick ladle of coconut cream and fried Thai basil leaves. Tender slices of beef were bathed in a complex, plate-lickingly delicious sauce that contained the usual notes of spicy chili and lemongrass, but was also redolent of toasted and fresh ground whole spices including cardamon, coriander, and cumin, and perfumed with an abundance of julienned galangal.
After spying Sauce Supreme’s recent foray with Dang’s stuff squid in green curry ($10), I knew the next time I was here I would have to try it. It did not disappoint. Creamy, slightly sweet, and featuring amazingly tender purses of squid stuffed with spiced pork and shrimp. Absolutely fantastic.
This entire meal was $50 and provided enough leftovers to fuel two subsequent meals.
A recent and rare Friday off from work meant an opportunity for a weekday breakfast at HA&VL.
Today’s special was: Hu Tieu Nam Vang - Phnom Penh noodle soup with shrimp & fishballs, charsiu pork, squid, pork liver, slices of roasted pork with noodle in pork broth, mixed with ground pork & Chinese celery and onion on top.
Certainly a fine soup. My favorite @HA&VL remains the crab soup.
The family at HA&VL are a special group. If I lived closer to here I would eat breakfast there at least every week.
UPDATE
I had breakfast here today (Sunday), and the bun thang was as good as it has ever been. So I can’t say the crab soup is my favorite. I’m torn.
They even hooked my daughter up with a bowl of her own. I asked for a small bowl to share, and a dimunitive, milder version (served in a what my daughter excitedly proclaimed was a “big mug!”) was whisked in front of my daughter. I love these people.
I recently ducked into Nakwon, a small-ish Korean restaurant located in picturesque downtown Beaverton.
I was a bit out of sorts from the previous night’s excessive celebrating, and was in the mood for a pick-me-up…something spicy. And red.
As it turned out, this spicy beef soup with glass noodles–delivered to the table in a bubbling hot cauldron–fit the bill quite nicely.
Prior to that momentous event, I was quite happy to be presented with an opportunity to hydrate myself, being parched and all. I love a restaurant that doesn’t fuck around with water service–in particular a Korean restaurant that serves spicy food.
The assortment of banchan at Nakwon is quite nice.
Chewy little fishies.
This tasted like air.
(It must suck to be the ramekin washer at a busy Korean restaurant)
A neat, tightly covered stainless steel bowl revealed a generous serving of steamed rice.
Of course that egg went right into the stew.
Man this was a hearty, satisfying bowl of delicious. I even took my time to carefully savor this meal over the course of twelve minutes.
Nakwon
(503) 646-9382
4600 SW Watson Ave
Beaverton, OR 97005
Nakwon on the WORLD WIDE WEB
Popeye’s runs out of chicken in Rochester. (Democrat and Chronicle)
“It has been crazy, very busy,” said Maria Ocegueda, manager of a Popeye’s on East Marengo Street in Los Angeles at 7 p.m. Pacific time. “I’m supposed to be open until midnight. I’m not sure we’re going to make it without running out of chicken.”
She said the promotion should be repeated, maybe six months from now.
“Offering chicken at this price is a way to get people who would otherwise not spend — to spend. It’s a good way to stimulate the economy.”
The New York Times Ate My Slogan. (The Food Section)
Two days ago, I had the surprise of receiving a cease and desist letter from the New York Times demanding that I immediately remove the “All the News That’s Fit to Eat” tagline because, in their words, the “use of this similar slogan capitalizes on the good will and reputation associated with the Times’s trademark and constitutes trademark dilution and infringement.”
The New York Times can suck it.
Liz Crain, a local writer whose food writing and reviews have appeared in many local publications include the Portland Tribune and Willamette Week, now has a very nice food blog.
Neighborhood Notes has the skinny on GQ Magazine’s love of Portland’s food scene. Read the article (PDF). Via PAC @theMerc.
Obama’s ‘Pizza Policy Is Going To Have To Change’: Lou Malnati’s Owner. (Huff Post)
President Barack Obama is having 140 people over to the White House Friday night for a some deep-dish pizza _ St. Louis deep dish pizza.
It seems during his campaign he had pizza from a restaurant called Pi in St. Louis. That’s the story Pi assistant manager Lindsey Tornetto tells.
Whatever happened, the restaurant says the owner and his partner packed dough, cheese and pizza pans in their suitcases and flew to Washington.
It all has Marc Malnati _ owner of 30 Lou Malnati’s Pizzarias in the Chicago area _ shaking his head. He says he likes Obama’s economic policy, but thinks the president’s pizza policy should change.
First lady’s organic garden concerns chemical firms. (The Hill)
But MACA, which represents agribusinesses like Monsanto, Dow AgroSciences and DuPont Crop Protection, is rather less thrilled about the fact that no chemicals will be used to grow the crops. The group is worried that the decision may give consumers the wrong impression about conventionally grown food.
“We live in a very different world than that of our grandparents. Americans are juggling jobs with the needs of children and aging parents,” the letter states. “The time needed to tend a garden is not there for the majority of our citizens, certainly not a garden of sufficient productivity to supply much of a family’s year-round food needs.”
Sometimes you get all caught up with life and all its messiness and you forget how fucking good a medium boiled egg is.
Mr. Pez@Babblesauce alerted me to the existence of the music video for Ween’s I Can’t Put My Finger On It, which—if not the best music video ever made—is at least the best food related music video of all time.
At the 1:57 mark, after the guy takes a hit of the hooka, you’ll notice a very impressive falafel platter being ladled with a luscious tahini sauce.
Obama Fried Chicken Places Under Fire For Name. (Huff Post)
Two New York City fried chicken restaurants in predominantly black neighborhoods are under fire for putting President Barack Obama’s name on their signs.
City Councilman Charles Barron said Friday that he will organize a demonstration next week outside Obama Fried Chicken in his Brooklyn district. Organizers said they may also target Obama Fried Chicken & Pizza in Harlem.
“People from the community were calling me and saying they were outraged by this racist connection to Barack Obama and fried chicken,” Barron said. “If you think that free speech gives you the right to insult and degrade us and stereotype us, then you’ve got a battle on your hands.”
The Onion is becoming superfluous.
Via PDXPlate, Naomi Pomeroy of Portland’s own Beast has been nominated has been awarded for Food&Wine’s Best New Chef award a Food&Wine’s Best New Chef award.
100 sickened after eating at N.Y. Applebee’s. (AP via MSNBC)
SYRACUSE, N.Y. – Health officials say more than 100 people reported getting sick after eating at an Applebee’s restaurant near Syracuse.
The county health department says there are seven confirmed cases of Shigellosis among people who ate at the Applebee’s in Camillus in early March. The bacterial infection is associated with consuming water or food contaminated with fecal matter.
I’m sure there’s a joke about Guy Fieri somewhere in there, but I just don’t have the spirit.
Cambodian Sandwich Shop Num Pang Now Open in Union Square. (Serious Eats)
Never had a Cambodian sandwich, and obviously it’s a very close relative to the Vietnamese banh mi, but this little shop in NYC .
Is the English pub at death’s door? (Global Post)
Rural life is unrecognizable from 20 years ago and British drinking habits have undergone a sea change, as well. Both of these factors have led to a crisis for British pubs. Thirty-nine a week are going out of business forever.
And the bad news is accelerating. The numbers were awful before the recession kicked in, but now they are brutal. In the last quarter of 2008 sales of beer were off by almost 10 percent in pubs, according to figures from the British Beer and Pub Association. Now politicians are becoming alarmed about the future of an industry that employs upwards of half a million people.
I’ve made a few repeat visits to HA & VL on SE 82nd to sample their excellent rotation of daily soup specials, and I must say this unassuming storefront tucked away in a roundabout strip just north of the Fubonn super shopping center continues to capture my delicious fancy in ways that I have rarely experienced in my short time on this earth.
On Sundays, one of the two soup specials includes bun thang (in addition to a chicken pho). Bun thang was a staple soup in my household. Though my mom prided herself on her terrificly nuanced pho, this rice noodle soup–clear broth accompanied by a protein triumvirate of omelette chiffonade, sliced cha lua (Vietnamese pork loaf/bologna), and tender chicken meat, pulled from the bone—was the stockpot dish I’d most commonly smell when I awoke on weekends.
HA & VL’s version is a veritable revelation, at once resplendent with nostalgia and packed with savory, “clean” flavors from the broth and the seemingly perfect proportional distributions of noodles and accoutrements. A final garnish—a crumble consisting of seasoned, toasted and minced dried shrimp—takes this bowl from terrestrial to other-worldliness.
Perhaps the family at HA & VL are using standard, commercially available rice noodles in their soups, but here they seem so much more toothsome and satisfying.
On a recent Thursday morning I was fortunate to leave the house a bit early to get to HA & VL to sample their ethereal crab soup. This soup features bahn canh noodles; thick, chewy and substantial rice noodles with a toothsome bite not unlike Japanese udon.
Though it is billed as crab soup, crab lends more of a distinguishing background to the stock, with ephemeral slivers of crab flesh punctuating the thick, impossibly savory and viscous broth.
As usual with Viet soups, a dish of fresh herbs and vegetable garnish pairs on the side.
The soup is studded with pink shrimp, quail eggs…
…and wonderfully meaty and fatty slices of tenderly braised pork. A sprinkle of fried shallots complete the bowl, a dish so overflowing with umami and residual deliciousness that it’s nearly depressing; each passing, joyful bite is somehow counterbalanced with an impending dread that the soup is that much closer to depletion.
Then you are done.
Keep in mind the availability of the soups here is–like every bite–impermanent. HA & VL only serve their specials during the wee morning hours, starting at 7:30 am on weekdays and 8 am on weekends, and only until they sell out. I spoke with the matron about the possibility of opening throughout the day, perhaps into the evening; she responded with a trite perfunctory truism—she’s older, and she couldn’t handle the grind of a full workday churning out the necessary provisions for cover after endless cover.
There is probably some truth to this. But I also suspect a separate phenomenon is in play here. There exists a demarcation between what is created at a micro level, and what can be successfully executed via extrapolation with every nuance intact. What HA & VL are doing is cooking for their extended family, and you just happen to have an invite to a front row seat if you get there early enough. The care and honor they imbue into every bowl of soup that is whisked from their compact kitchen cannot be duplicated at a macro level. To do so would be disingenuous.
The Interwebs
PDXPlate
Portlandfood.org
BB@ Eat.Drink.Think. has been there
So has the Oregonian‘s Karen Brooks
This is a pretty standard Vietnamese cold noodle dish, aka “bun”. Go to any Vietnamese restaurant serving standard fare and you’ll see “bun thit nuong” (rice noodles with grilled pork), “bun thit nuong tom” (rice noodles with grilled pork AND shrimp) and “bun thit nuong cha gio” (rice noodles with grilled pork AND crisp spring rolls).
This version is sort of a twist with rare-ish grilled steak, which you generally won’t find on a standard Viet menu, as the beef, while perfumed with lemongrass and fish sauce, is most likely thin slices of beef that has either been quickly sauteed or threaded in skewer form and grilled.
Steak Salad
Makes two servings. If you want to make more, just double everything, you fucking moron.
- 1/2 pound semi-lean steak filet, like a sirloin, flatiron, or skirt
- 2 tablespoons fish sauce
- 1 tablespoon sesame oil
- 3 kaffir lime leaves
- 3 stalks of lemongrass, trimmed
- 2 cloves of minced garlic
- 2 thai bird chilies, minced
- 1/2 pounds of rice stick noodles
- 1/2 English Cucumber
- A couple broad leaves of red or green leaf lettuce
- Variety of fresh herbs, including spearmint, perilla (shiso), cilantro, thai basil, rau rum
- 4 tablespoons coarsely ground toasted peanuts
- 4 tablespoons prepared nuoc cham dressing
Prepare the lemongrass by chopping off the thin tops, and the large 1/2 inch nub on the fat end. Halve the stalks, the quarter lengthwise, then use your fine knife skills to create an extremely fine mince.
Similarly, mince the lime leaves and chilies into extremely fine particles.
Coat the beef filet with lemongrass, lime leaves, garlic and chilies, and pour over fish sauce and sesame oil. Turn a couple times to coat completely, and marinate for an hour or preferably more.
Grill the steak over very hot coals for a couple minutes per side.
Set aside to cool for 10-15 minutes. Slice.
Peel, halve, and slice cucumber. Chiffonade lettuce and herbs.
Toast the peanuts in a cast iron pan.
Give them a few pounds in a mortar or a few whirls in a coffee grinder.
Boil rice noodles for 2-3 minutes (or according to directions). Shock in ice bath, and rinse in cold water to remove residual starch.
Put noodles and steak into large mixing bowl and add herbs, lettuce, cucumber. Pour over nuoc cham dressing and toss to coat evenly. Dish out and top with chopped peanuts.
World’s Deadliest Spider Found In Whole Foods In Tulsa. (Huff Post)
TULSA, Okla. — One of the most deadly spiders in the world has been found in the produce section of a Tulsa grocery store. An employee of Whole Foods Market found the Brazilian Wandering Spider Sunday in bananas from Honduras and managed to catch it in a container.
The spider was given to University of Tulsa Animal Facilities director Terry Childs who said this type of spider kills more people than any other.
Childs said a bite will kill a person in about 25 minutes and while there is an antidote he doesn’t know of any in the Tulsa area.
I kinda like spiders, so my on-again/off-again boycott of Whole Foods is, for the time being, OFF.
Food Magazines Begin to Consider Cooks’ Budgets. (NY Times)
After covering eating trends that have included haute pub food, exotic fruits like yuzu, and restaurants that dehydrated, foamed and froze everything from meat to dessert, upscale food magazines are writing about an even more unexpected topic: cheap home eating.
Reflecting the bad economy, Gourmet, which usually writes about expensive restaurants and faraway travel, has added a feature about what to do with leftovers, and put a ham sandwich — albeit a fancy one — on its March cover.
Food & Wine’s March issue includes an essay on buying the cheapest bottle on a wine list. Bon Appétit’s April cover trumpets a “low-cost, big-flavor” pizza party.
Green Your St. Patrick’s Day Partying. (Huff Post)
Well, St. Patrick’s Day is upon us. Can you think of a better time to throw a green party? Nope! You can’t. So here are some fun and easy ways to get started:
…
3. Vegan eatin’: Vegan corned “beef” and cabbage
I’ve never tried this one, but I’ll say this: I’m increasingly impressed with imitation meat meals. Especially vegan junk food (like Foodswings in Brooklyn). But if you want to reduce the impact of your St. Patrick’s Day food — or if you want to cater to your friends who don’t eat meat, here’s a recipe for Vegan corned “beef” and cabbage.
The most insipid thing you’ll read all day, unless of course you happen to visit CNBC.com.
It’s on baby. The boycott is back! Everyone join in on the refuseniking!
As winter winds down, it’s probably a good time to share one of my favorite winter dishes.
Beef Daube
- 2 1/2 pounds beef chuck, cut into 1 1/2 inch-ish chunks
- Few tablespoons of flour
- 9-12 peeled cippolini onions – hey, Trader Joes has these, how easy!
- 1 very large onion, coarsely chopped
- 2 or 3 carrots, cut into 1/2 inch chunks
- 2-3 stalks of celery, cut into 1/2 inch chunks
- 10-12 or so garlic cloves, minced
- 1 pound button mushrooms (if you really like mushrooms), whole or halved if really large
- 3 thick slices of slab bacon, cut into 1/4 inch “lardons”
- 3 tablespoons fine tomato paste
- 2 cups broth, preferably beef
- 1 bottle of red wine, like a Cotes de Rhone or something that sounds Frenchy
- Few sprigs thyme and rosemary
- One bunch of Italian parsley
- 3 bay leaves
- 2 tablespoons veal demi-glace reduction (or a slurry of the cooking liquid and corn starch – see note)
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 1 tablespoon butter
- Sea salt
- Pepper
- Egg noodles
Preheat an oven to 275 degrees.
Cut the stems of the parsley and set aside. Finely chop the parsley leaves, and put that in another container.
In a stainless steel saucepan, combine red wine, parsley stems, thyme, and rosemary. You can also augment with a pinch or two of dried herbs de provence. I do.
Bring wine to a simmer, lower heat, and simmer until the wine is reduced by half (probably 30 minutes or so). Remove herbs.
While that is happening, in a large dutch oven, heat olive oil to smoking. Toss beef with flour and season with salt and pepper. Brown beef in pan, and set aside, draining all liquid from the pan onto the same platter or bowl on which you are setting the beef aside.
Bring the pan back up to heat, add butter and bacon, then add onions, carrots, and celery, and cook over high heat, stirring often, for a few minutes. Add mushrooms and garlic, and sautee for a couple more minutes.
Return beef and all the liquids back to the pot, and stir fry for a minute before adding wine, broth, tomato paste, bay leaves, and some salt and pepper. Bring to a nice simmer…
Then place into oven, with a very loose cover of foil on top (do not cover completely). Cook in the oven for 2 to 2 1/2 hours, stirring occasionally.
Remove and allow to cool. Set aside in the fridge overnight.
The next day, sprinkle with 2 tablespoons chopped parsley, add demi-glace and bring the pan back up to a simmer. Simmer for 15 minutes or so until it’s a nice consistency, while salting and peppering to taste.
NOTE: I use Demi Glace Gold or, more recently, Williams Sonoma, with good results. I love this stuff — it’s pricey, but an oh so rich and delicious way to thicken and “luxuriate” this stew or most anything really. Alternately, you can extract a 1/3 cup or so of the braising liquid and mix with a tablespoon or more of cornstarch to create a slurry, and slowly drizzle this into the simmering stew to help thicken things up a bit.
I like to serve the daube on top of cooked egg noodles (straight, curly? your call), and top with a pinch of your finest finishing salt, a quick turn or two of the pepper grinder, and a sprinkle of parsley. Instant comfort.
Last I checked, this was still awesome.
FDA Approves Salmonella. (America’s Finest News Source)
WASHINGTON—Calling it “perfectly safe for the most part,” and “not nearly as destructive or fatal as previously thought,” the Food and Drug Administration approved the enterobacteria salmonella for human consumption this week.
The federal agency, which has struggled in recent years to contain the food-borne pathogen, and repeatedly failed to prevent tainted products from reaching store shelves, announced Monday that salmonella was now completely okay for all Americans to enjoy.
“Rigorous testing has shown that salmonella is…fine,” FDA director of food safety Stephen Sundlof said. “In fact, our research indicates that there’s no need to pull any more foodstuffs from the market. Not raw chicken. Not contaminated spinach. Not thousands of jars of harmful peanut butter. Not anything.”
Iron Chef Cat Cora And Wife Both Pregnant. (Huff Post)
I apologize for the title of this post.
Shock & Foie: The War Against Dietary Self-Determinsm
Read it. Savor it.
Next time you’re in San Francisco, eat at Incanto.
Taqueria Lindo Michoacan is a permanently parked taco truck residing at the south side of SE Division, on the intersection of 34th Ave., just a few doors down from the venerable Pok Pok/Whiskey Soda Lounge.
The “marquee” lists all the flavors of flesh available. Notice the sign boasting of hand-made tortillas.
The full menu (click to view a larger, detailed version).
The taco triumvariate–pastor, carnitas, and asada.
Carnitas.
Asada.
Pastor.
Fully dressed taco.
Verdict? The asada could have been more crisp, and I’ve had better, more flavorful carnitas. The hand made tortillas are good, the pastor is flavorful (if a tad bit greasy), and the salsas—3 kinds, red, green, and atomic/habanero—are bright and fiery. This is a good taco truck.
Lindo Michoacan
SE Division and 34th
Portland, OR
Yelp and the Business of Extortion 2.0. (East Bay Express)
This wasn’t your average sales pitch. At least, not the kind that John, an East Bay restaurateur, was used to. He was familiar with Yelp.com, the popular San Francisco-based web site in which any person can write a review about nearly any business. John’s restaurant has more than one hundred reviews, and averages a healthy 3.5-star rating. But when John asked Mike what he could do about his bad reviews, he recalls the sales rep responding: “We can move them. Well, for $299 a month.” John couldn’t believe what the guy was offering. It seemed wrong.
The WORLD WIDE WEB is an awful place. You best avoid it.
A McNuggets “Emergency. (The Smoking Gun)
Angered that her local McDonald’s was out of Chicken McNuggets, a Florida woman called 911 three times to report the fast food “emergency.” Latreasa Goodman, 27, last Saturday called police to complain that a cashier–citing a McDonald’s all sales are final policy–would not give her a refund. [To listen to Goodman's 911 calls, click here and here.] When cops responded to the restaurant, Goodman told them, “This is an emergency. If I would have known they didn’t have McNuggets, I wouldn’t have given my money, and now she wants to give me a McDouble, but I don’t want one.” Goodman noted, “I called 911 because I couldn’t get a refund, and I wanted my McNuggets,” according to the below Fort Pierce Police Department report. That logic, however, did not keep cops from citing Goodman for misusing the 911 system. Even after being issued a misdemeanor citation, Goodman contended, “this is an emergency, my McNuggets are an emergency.”
Reminds me of the time I forced the issue of an Amber Alert when my daughter ate all my Nutella.
NW wine industry: worries and bargains. (Crosscut)
Indeed, most others in the wine business in Washington and Oregon report that it’s tough out there and likely to get tougher — particularly for new wineries, high-end producers without big reputations and scores, and those that depend heavily on the hard-hit restaurant business. Even giant Jackson Family Wines in California, the parent company of Kendall-Jackson, laid off about 20 percent of its staff in January.
Many wineries are trying to shift their distribution mix away from restaurants and toward retail. Most are carefully nurturing their wine club members, hoping the direct-to-consumer business provides an island of stability. Washington and Oregon wineries questioned are predicting that, at best, sales in 2009 will be about the same as last year. “You’ve got to be really skeptical in this environment that you’ll see any sizable growth in 2009,” says Mark Freund, senior relationship manager for Silicon Valley Bank in California, which works with about 250 West Coast wineries. “If you can maintain flat sales, you’re not doing too bad.”
Low-carb? Low-fat? Study finds calories count more. (Huff Post)
Low-fat, low-carb or high-protein? The kind of diet doesn’t matter, scientists say. All that really counts is cutting calories and sticking with it, according to a federal study that followed people for two years. However, participants had trouble staying with a single approach that long and the weight loss was modest for most.
As the world grapples with rising obesity, millions have turned to popular diets like Atkins, Zone and Ornish that tout the benefits of one nutrient over another.
Some previous studies have found that low carbohydrate diets like Atkins work better than a traditional low-fat diet. But the new research found that the key to losing weight boiled down to a basic rule _ calories in, calories out.
Something so driven by common sense can’t possibly be true.
No Lunch Left Behind. (Alice Waters co-authored Op-Ed in the NY Times)
Many nutrition experts believe that it is possible to fix the National School Lunch Program by throwing a little more money at it. But without healthy food (and cooks and kitchens to prepare it), increased financing will only create a larger junk-food distribution system. We need to scrap the current system and start from scratch. Washington needs to give schools enough money to cook and serve unprocessed foods that are produced without pesticides or chemical fertilizers. When possible, these foods should be locally grown.
How much would it cost to feed 30 million American schoolchildren a wholesome meal? It could be done for about $5 per child, or roughly $27 billion a year, plus a one-time investment in real kitchens. Yes, that sounds expensive. But a healthy school lunch program would bring long-term savings and benefits in the areas of hunger, children’s health and dietary habits, food safety (contaminated peanuts have recently found their way into school lunches), environmental preservation and energy conservation.
Outrage brewing over proposed 1,900% beer tax hike. (KGW)
Five Oregon state lawmakers want to impose a hefty tax on beer and have introduced a bill that brewers say would cripple them.
Four Portland legislators joined a Springfield senator to introduce Oregon House Bill 2461, which would impose a $49.61 tax on each barrel of beer produced by Oregon brewers.
…
“If that tax is passed it would mean consumers would pay $315 million more (in 2009) to buy the same amount of beer they bought in 2008,” De Kalb claimed. “A pint of beer would go from $4.50 to $6.”
Rep. Ben Cannon, one of the bill’s sponsors, questions whether the true hit to consumers would be as high as beer makers claim. He told KGW his office measured the increase at 15 cents per glass not $1.50.
But Kurt Widmer of Widmer brewing told KGW that in order to keep profit margins constant, he’d increase his price to distributors, who in turn would likely increase prices to retailers, making the 15 cent per class estimate unrealistic.
Something tells me it’s somewhere in between. Rogue Dead Guy will now be, what, $14 a sixer?
I am a big fan, as are most Portlanders, of Pok Pok/Whiskey Soda Lounge on SE Division, which churns out some of the most delicious southeast Asian (primarily Thai) in this burg.
Ping–a new restaurant hatched by Mr. Pok Pok and cohorts, located in Chinatown–is opening today. The menu was recently posted on their website. It looks great, and I’m glad to see a doctored up Mama brand instant noodle dish has made the cut (in a similar proletariat nod, another version is/was served up at the Pok Pok to-go shack).
Eating plain Fritos chased with sips of salsa.
It has come to this.
The Maggots in Your Mushrooms. (NY Times Op-Ed)
Tomato juice, for example, may average “10 or more fly eggs per 100 grams [the equivalent of a small juice glass] or five or more fly eggs and one or more maggots.” Tomato paste and other pizza sauces are allowed a denser infestation — 30 or more fly eggs per 100 grams or 15 or more fly eggs and one or more maggots per 100 grams.
Canned mushrooms may have “over 20 or more maggots of any size per 100 grams of drained mushrooms and proportionate liquid” or “five or more maggots two millimeters or longer per 100 grams of drained mushrooms and proportionate liquid” or an “average of 75 mites” before provoking action by the F.D.A.
The sauerkraut on your hot dog may average up to 50 thrips. And when washing down those tiny, slender, winged bugs with a sip of beer, you might consider that just 10 grams of hops could have as many as 2,500 plant lice. Yum.
Restaurants hatch survival strategies. (Oregon Live)
So how are Portland restaurants really faring during this buzz-kill of an economic slump?
Some places are reporting unusually strong showings in January. But most are still calculating losses piled up during December’s snowstorm. Numbers right now are down by as much as 40 percent compared to last year, and everyone is hatching survival strategies.
Great Meals for Two, Under $100 (It’s Possible). (NY Times)
Frank Bruni’s talk about “cheap eats” raises the ire of the masses. It’s getting rough out there.
Crabs and clams at a premium on the Oregon Coast (HT eMSG@PFG.org)
OREGON COAST – For those who love crabbing and clamming, the Oregon coast is smokin’ hot right now.
On the north coast, clams are at a record number, enabling folks to hit the tide line and snag their daily limit for weeks on end. Meanwhile, on the central coast – where crabs tend to be more abundant than up north – this is the time of year that crabmeat is at its best.
Presently, the little critters have gone through their molting process and filled out their shells. It’s an annual occurrence this time of year, and it means crabbing will be loads of fun through the spring at the resort town of Newport – which actually trademarked the title “Dungeness Crab Capital of the World.”
This year, Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife (ODFW) found that Oregon coast crabs had filled out a little earlier than the usual late November, which meant good things for meaty catches. The thick meat stays full until early summer.
Catching the coveted crustaceans is open year round in the numerous Oregon coast bays and estuaries, but open ocean crabbing season started on December 1 this year, along with commercial crabbing season.
Italy bans kebabs and foreign food from cities. (Times Online)
The tomato comes from Peru and spaghetti was probably a gift from China.
It is, though, the “foreign” kebab that is being kicked out of Italian cities as it becomes the target of a campaign against ethnic food, backed by the centre-right Government of Silvio Berlusconi.
The drive to make Italians eat Italian, which was described by the Left and leading chefs as gastronomic racism, began in the town of Lucca this week, where the council banned any new ethnic food outlets from opening within the ancient city walls.
Yesterday it spread to Lombardy and its regional capital, Milan, which is also run by the centre Right. The antiimmigrant Northern League party brought in the restrictions “to protect local specialities from the growing popularity of ethnic cuisines”.
Luca Zaia, the Minister of Agriculture and a member of the Northern League from the Veneto region, applauded the authorities in Lucca and Milan for cracking down on nonItalian food. “We stand for tradition and the safeguarding of our culture,” he said.
Here’s a food you shouldn’t ban: a nice, steaming hot bowl of Shut the Fuck Up.
Rare “Prehistoric” Shark Photographed Alive. (Buzzfeed)
Obamas Bring Their Chicago Chef to the White House. (NY Times)
Sam Kass, a private chef for the Obamas while they were living in Chicago, is now working in the White House.
A spokeswoman for Michelle Obama, Katie McCormick Lelyveld, said Mr. Kass will not be the only cook preparing the family’s meals, but “he knows what they like and he happens to have a particular interest in healthy food and local food.” He will work alongside the White House executive chef, Cristeta Comerford, who was promoted to that job by the Bushes and is being kept on in that role by the Obamas.
Mr. Kass’s appointment signals changes at the White House that should please chefs like Alice Waters, who have lobbied the Obamas to set an example for the rest of the country by emphasizing food that is healthy, local and sustainable. It further suggests that a vegetable garden on the White House grounds, another of Ms. Waters’ dreams, could be on the horizon.
Mr. Kass, one of the new breed of chefs who are concerned about the environment and about poor eating habits in this country, has been quoted as saying people in his profession should take the lead in tackling public health issues. “Not only is there an unconscionable amount of people who remain hungry,” he told “In These Times” magazine last year, said, “there’s even a larger population, mostly poor, who are faced with obesity, diabetes and various other problems from overabundance.”
Surely another harbinger of a failed presidency barely one week old.
Red meat, Down Under. (Culinate)
The kangaroo’s move from the outback to the dinner table has been touted as an environmental coup, since the animals don’t produce atmosphere-clogging methane gas like cows do. In fact, ’roos neither burp nor fart. And their big soft feet are suited to Australia’s terrain and do far less damage to the fragile topsoil than do the hooves of cattle and pigs. Two different studies at the University of New South Wales have even suggested farming — and eating — kangaroo instead of sheep or cattle as a way to lower Australia’s total carbon output.
As Australia’s harsh scrublands have been transformed into grassy cultivated fields for sheep-raising, the kangaroo population has boomed. Tender green grass ripe for the grazing is easier pickings than foraging for rare vegetation in the outback. The population explosion needs to be checked, and the lean, healthy meat of the kangaroo seems like the ideal dinner fare for Australia’s meat-loving yet increasingly health-conscious citizens.
It really is a travesty that Outback Steakhouse has co-opted Of Montreal for their theme song AND they do not serve kangaroo.
Late last spring I visited Hmart when it opened in Tigard, and even snapped a few photos. Since then, I’ve been back a few times, and it has become one of my favorite stores in this universe.
Here are some photos from a few recent visits.
That sliced beef ribeye incidentally went into bulgogi marinade and was sprinkled with sesame seeds, and became a wonderful dinner with rice, grilled king oyster mushrooms, and cucumber kimchi.
Those stir fried vermicelli noodles were immediately combined with chopped pieces of the cucumber kimchi and some leftover grilled tofu. At $2.99, it came out to nearly two hearty, full portions and was much more satisfying than the single serving of glass noodle Pad Thai I paid three times as much for a few nights earlier at Thai Herbs in Multnomah Village.
Here it is, in tostada form and sprinkled with Bufalo Jalapeño hot sauce.
- One pound bay scallops, halved (or quartered if somewhat largish)
- 2 limes
- 1 smallish meyer lemon
- 2 small clementine tangerines
- 2 fresh roma tomatoes, finely diced
- ½ small red onion, finely diced
- 1 smashed and finely minced garlic clove
- 2 green onion stalks, chopped
- (½ combined bunch) of fresh chopped Italian parsley and cilantro
- 1/2 teaspoon of olive oil
- Sea salt, to taste
Combine scallops, onions, herbs, tomatoes and oil in a large mixing bowl. Using a citrus press or juicer, extract juice from fruit and pour over mixture. Season with a few pinches of salt. Cover and allow to sit in fridge for three or four hours, stirring occasionally to mix things up a bit, you know?
Hospitals will take meat off menus in bid to cut carbon. (Guardian UK)
Meat-free menus are to be promoted in hospitals as part of a strategy to cut global warming emissions across the National Health Service.
The plan to offer patients menus that would have no meat option is part of a strategy to be published tomorrow that will cover proposals ranging from more phone-in GP surgeries to closing outpatient departments and instead asking surgeons to visit people at their local doctor’s surgery.
Some suggestions are likely to be controversial with patients’ groups, especially attempts to curb meat eating and car use. Plans to reuse more equipment could raise concern about infection with superbugs such as MRSA.
Dr David Pencheon, director of the NHS sustainable development unit, said the amount of NHS emissions meant it had to act to make cuts, and the changes would save money, which could be spent on better services for patients.
“This is not just about doing things more efficiently, it’s about doing things differently, because efficiency is not going to get us to big cuts,” said Pencheon. “What will healthcare look like in 2030-2040 in a very low carbon society? It will not look anything like it looks now.”
I picked up these “fresh noodle” Korean soup packs during a recent trip to Hmart. As you can see on the package, that broth is red. Red = good.
Choripdong is proving themselves to be quite the reputable brand of imported Korean foodstuffs, so when they were on sale it was a no-brainer. Plus, there was a demo table set up, dishing out small cups of jjambbong that I found it to be tasty enough, ungussied and overboiled, to purchase for home consumption.
As you can see, this version of “instant” ramen does not have the inflated fat content, due to the freshly frozen noodles.
The noodles are packaged separately in a frozen block. Seems straightforward enough, until you flip it over…
…and witness the bounty. The most impressive part of Choripdong’s Jjambbong is the breadth of companion garnishes included with the noodles. There’s an abundance of seaweed and woodear mushrooms, slices of spicy fresh chili, strips of squid meat…
…and even an entire shrimp, head and all. What a wonderful time to be alive.
The sauce/soup packet is quite impressive in its heft and the fact that it’s sludge-like and most-likely perishable, which is why the product is sold frozen. And check out that first ingredient (well, after “Sauce”): Squid Extract!
Gussied up with fresh veggies and shrimp and garnished with fresh scallions, this is one of the better instant noodle soup preparations available on the market today. The noodles are fantastic, thick, toothsome, and slurpable. And that broth…it’s red. Korea’s foodstuff manufacturing industry is really something to behold.
Anthony Bourdain Talks Alice Watersgate. (Gothamist)
How fitting that Anthony Bourdain’s controversial interview with DCist, in which Bourdain called organic food proponent Alice Waters’ agenda “very Khmer Rouge,” took place in our nation’s capital. Welcome to Alice Watersgate, a brewing chef on chef scandal that (potentially) has the unexpected benefit of bringing ideas about our country’s food policy to a much wider audience.
Judging from the DCist interview, general timing seems to be part of Bourdain’s overall gripe: “We’re all in the middle of a recession,” he told interviewer Jamie R. Liu, while complaining about the priciness and preachiness seemingly inherent to going green, “like we’re all going to start buying expensive organic food and running to the green market.” Last November, Waters wrote a much-publicized open letter to the newly minted President Elect offering advisory services on choosing a new White House chef. It turned out that the old White House chef had a lot to offer.
As we usher out the current administration, we officially start the next era of bitching and moaning. But it’s worthwhile to revisit the prescience of America’s Finest News Source:
During the 40-minute speech, Bush also promised to bring an end to the severe war drought that plagued the nation under Clinton, assuring citizens that the U.S. will engage in at least one Gulf War-level armed conflict in the next four years.
“You better believe we’re going to mix it up with somebody at some point during my administration,” said Bush, who plans a 250 percent boost in military spending. “Unlike my predecessor, I am fully committed to putting soldiers in battle situations. Otherwise, what is the point of even having a military?”
On the economic side, Bush vowed to bring back economic stagnation by implementing substantial tax cuts, which would lead to a recession, which would necessitate a tax hike, which would lead to a drop in consumer spending, which would lead to layoffs, which would deepen the recession even further.
…
“Finally, the horrific misrule of the Democrats has been brought to a close,” House Majority Leader Dennis Hastert (R-IL) told reporters. “Under Bush, we can all look forward to military aggression, deregulation of dangerous, greedy industries, and the defunding of vital domestic social-service programs upon which millions depend. Mercifully, we can now say goodbye to the awful nightmare that was Clinton’s America.”
“For years, I tirelessly preached the message that Clinton must be stopped,” conservative talk-radio host Rush Limbaugh said. “And yet, in 1996, the American public failed to heed my urgent warnings, re-electing Clinton despite the fact that the nation was prosperous and at peace under his regime. But now, thank God, that’s all done with. Once again, we will enjoy mounting debt, jingoism, nuclear paranoia, mass deficit, and a massive military build-up.”
An overwhelming 49.9 percent of Americans responded enthusiastically to the Bush speech.
“After eight years of relatively sane fiscal policy under the Democrats, we have reached a point where, just a few weeks ago, President Clinton said that the national debt could be paid off by as early as 2012,” Rahway, NJ, machinist and father of three Bud Crandall said. “That’s not the kind of world I want my children to grow up in.”
(Originally published: JANUARY 17, 2001).
Oh yeah, and one more, this time with feeling: Dick Cheney can suck the swollen and diseased hemorrhoid currently festering near the inner cavity of my crusty anus and rinse from a bottle of acidic mouthwash filled with my own caustic urine backwashed from a dozen lepers. See you in hell, you grimacing homunculus.
A Beaverton location of D.C. metro-based Five Guys Burger and Fries opened last fall to much fanfare.
The simple, no-nonsense interior imparts a bit of the faux-retro vibe that Southern California’s venerable In-N-Out Burger captures so well. The place was absolutely packed on a recent weekend around 2pm.
Similarly, the menu is pretty simple. You won’t find any sandwiches featuring onions with anger management issues.
Stacks of sacks of potatoes suggest their fries are freshly cut. Or these could I have simply been bags of river rocks from Home Depot’s garden section. They look about the same size – I had to pour a walkway one time. That day sucked. The pride of home ownership is way overrated.
Want something fun AND value-added? Boxes of free peanuts are situated at either ends of the dining (including like right in front of the bathrooms), and you’re free to help yourself and make a mess.
This large order of fries came in its own bag. There were nearly as many fries in the bag than in this large styrofoam cup–enough to feed three of us.
One great thing about Five Guys is that you get to accessorize your burger with whatever toppings they offer. Here’s a “Little Cheeseburger” (the normal burgers double up the patty) replete with lettuce, tomato, onion, pickles, mustard, ketchup, grilled onions, grilled mushrooms, and jalapenos.
Verdict? It’s a solid fast-food burger. In terms of satisfaction, I wouldn’t put it on the same level of In-N-Out. I was pretty stoked that the jalapenos were freshly sliced, as opposed to pickled. I really think it took the burger to the next level.
I will say, however, that the fries I had that crisp winter day in aught nine were better than any potato ever churned out by In-N-Out, and were flat out the best fast food fries I’ve had to date. I enjoy skin-on, freshly cut fries, and these were crisp and delicious.
Consider me a fan.
Five Guys on the WORLD WIDE WEB
Pro-Life Group up in Arms over Krispy Kreme’s Abortion Doughnuts. (Miami New Times)
Krispy Kreme, being the genial purveyor of glazed goodness that it is, decided to get in on the Obama inauguration craze and is offering one free doughnut to every costumer on January 20, Inauguration day, and released this seemingly innocuous press release:
“Krispy Kreme Doughnuts, Inc. (NYSE: KKD) is honoring American’s sense of pride and freedom of choice on Inauguration Day, by offering a free doughnut of choice to every customer on this historic day, Jan. 20. By doing so, participating Krispy Kreme stores nationwide are making an oath to tasty goodies — just another reminder of how oh-so-sweet ‘free’ can be.”
Well, The American Life League noticed the liberal use of the word choice and decided to blast the chain bakery for producing abortion doughnuts.
“The unfortunate reality of a post-Roe v. Wade America is that ‘choice’ is synonymous with abortion access, and celebration of ‘freedom of choice’ is a tacit endorsement of abortion rights on demand,” the group’s president, Judie Brown said in a statement.
Consumers urged to use caution eating peanut butter. (CNN)
Federal officials are urging consumers to put off eating foods that contain peanut butter until they can be they are sure they do not contain products manufactured by the Peanut Corp. of America, some of which were found to contain salmonella.
I’ve been slowly going through a small package of Nabisco brand Nutter Butter Sandwich Cookies all week. I’ll let you know how it turns out.
US roquefort tariff angers French. (Guardian)
Less than a week before it leaves office, the Bush administration has sparked anger across the Atlantic by tripling the import duty rate on roquefort cheese to 300%, a move which the US hopes will “shut down trade” in the sheep’s milk product by making it prohibitively expensive.
Another entry: Man accused of selling daughter for cash, beer.
Police have arrested a Greenfield man for allegedly arranging to sell his 14-year-old daughter into marriage in exchange for $16,000, 100 cases of beer and several cases of meat.
Police said they only learned of the deal after Marcelino de Jesus Martinez went to them to get his daughter back because payment wasn’t made as promised. The man was arrested Sunday on suspicion of human trafficking.
NBC News’ Dara Brown reported that the deal specifically involved 100 cases of Corona beer, 50 cases of Modelo, six bottles of wine, 50 cases of soft drinks and 50 cases of Gatorade.
(Emphasis mine).
In his defense, the several cases of meat turned out to be Steak-Ums.
Mr. Bog reminds us of the implications.
Comments are icing on the cake.
I’m still vacillating on my boycott of Whole Foods. They do have a nice olive bar. And it’s one of the few places where you can see some prepared food available by the pound, figure you’ll just get a little snack, and then end up paying more than you would if you decided to sit down at a proper restaurant.
Bear Grylls is about to eat a 20 foot boa constrictor. As soon, of course, he gets rid of the parasites and feces.
Jin Wah in Beaverton serves dim sum.
There’s a lot of brisk cart action at Jin Wah. This motion blurred photo implies as such.
Feet. These came from several chickens.
Pork shu mai.
BBQ pork buns.
Shrimp har gow.
Tripe. I guess tripe’s ok. It’s like eating the floor mats to a late model European luxury sedan.
Congee. Much like how my wife thinks of me, I find Chinese-style congee to be a middling bore.
Kai-lan with oyster sauce.
Savory doughnuts. I’m not sure why, but Asians are crazy about this shit.
Shrimp balls topped with braised black mushroom.
A split shot, perched atop plenty of Chinese red vinegar spiked with chili oil.
Turnip cake.
Squid dusted with rice flour, flash fried and stir-fried with onions, scallion, salt, pepper, and chilis. I enjoy their particular rendition of squid.
Jin Wah Restaurant
4021 SW 117th Ave # E
Beaverton, OR
(503) 641-2852
IKEA sells this wood treatment for its kitchen butcher block.
IKEA tells me it’s approved for use on surfaces that come in contact with food.
Portland, Oregon’s Front Yard Taco Truck. (Serious Eats)
How ’bout this? Portland, Oregon, taco truck owners Gabina Lopez and Chencho Martinez parked their mobile kitchen on the street next to their home and then built a dining area in their front yard for customers.
Taco truck is legal; city steps up inspections. (Oregon Live)
El Nutri Taco owners Gabina Lopez and Chencho Martinez are pleased to have achieved a successful business literally in their front yard. Although the majority of properties on Woodstock east of 50th are single-family residences, this family has permission from the city for the setup.
Now free of debt, Martinez had borrowed from his brother to buy the truck and used a Home Depot credit card to build out his porch to the street. “My American dream is starting to take shape,” he said.
Cheney: I’m actually ‘lovable. (Politico)
Cheney conceded in an interview with CBS radio that he sometimes expresses himself “rather forcefully toward some of my compatriots, like Pat Leahy from Vermont” but dismissed as a caricature the idea that he is a “Darth Vader-type personality.”
“I think all of that’s been pretty dramatically overdone,” the vice president said. “I’m actually a warm, lovable sort.”
You’ll agree if you’re the sort that finds rectum tumors lovable.
A World of Bargains. (Washington Post)
Lower prices make the Asian superstores an alluring alternative in tough economic times, but it’s the breadth of otherwise tough-to-find ingredients that makes them an invaluable resource for adventurous home cooks and some of the District’s top chefs. H Mart and Super H Mart customers include Michel Richard of Citronelle and Central, Haidar Karoum of Proof and Scott Drewno of Wolfgang Puck’s the Source.
Diversity is the draw. Although Karoum gets most of what he needs for the restaurant from his purveyors, he has long shopped for himself at H Mart and did so when he was testing dishes while Proof was under construction. “You get inspiration from stuff that you don’t see regularly,” says Karoum, 34, who was chef at Asia Nora before opening Proof. “You get a taste of other cultures.”
For the Source, Drewno shops for Asian herbs, noodles and other dry goods at the Merrifield store on Saturday mornings. “H Mart! I love this place,” says Drewno, 33. Ever since he was a 22-year-old cook in Las Vegas at Puck’s Chinois, he says, he has relied on Asian markets.
Garage Invention Could Turn Restaurants into Power Plants. (Wired)
A new garage-engineered generator burns the waste oil from restaurants’ deep fryers to generate electricity and hot water. Put 80 gallons of grease into the Vegawatt and its creators promise that it will generate about five kilowatts of power.
That’s about 10 percent of the total energy needs of Finz, a seafood restaurant in Dedham, Massachusetts, where the first Vegawatt is being tested. At New England electricity rates, the system offsets about $2.50 worth of electricity with each gallon of waste oil poured into it.
Vegawatt’s founder and inventor, James Peret, estimates that restaurants purchasing the $22,000 machine will save about $1,000 per month in electricity costs, for a payback time of under two years.
Drinking and driving: The way we live sucks. (William Brand@ContraCostaTimes.com)
The American problem – our problem – is the way we live sucks. I mean we’re totally auto-oriented. Most of us live in places where mass transit doesn’t exist or is sucky.
For instance, I live three miles from the closest BART station; there’s only bus service 9-5 weekdays and it’s five blocks to the damn bus stop. So I drive, usually to BART. Coming home, I don’t get back in the car ’til I’m certain I’m sober. It’s a hell of a way to live.
In fact, it changes where I go. I hate visiting friends where we’re going to drink good beer, but the only way to get there is driving. I envy my friends who live in San Francisco, Oakland and other cities, where a trip to the pub is a short walk.
For the rest of us, the whole system is loaded against us. We love good beer, but the laws are tough and cops are relentless. What to do? Drinking at homne is one solution, but nothing beats the warmth and friendship of a good pub. It’s a dilemma, isn’t it. One thing we need is better transit.
Cauliflower Shines in Winter. (NY Times)
Cauliflower can seem drab if served plain and, like its cousins cabbage and broccoli, downright unappetizing if overcooked. But from the Mediterranean to India, this versatile vegetable shines in salads and pastas, gratins and soups, curries and risottos. Cauliflower is at its peak now, from December through March, when produce markets often are otherwise spare, particularly if you happen to live in a northern climate.
I enjoy these BBQ flavored chips. In my mind, they are second to Trader Joe’s Hawaiian Style Hickory Barbecue Potato Chips, and they do indeed taste better than my backyard.
2008…thanks for nothing. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass.
Actually, I don’t want to be a completely ungrateful bastard. I’ve got a job, so does my wife, and my wife and daughter are healthy. I shall count my blessings.
As if Things Weren’t Bad Enough, Russian Professor Predicts End of U.S.. (WSJ)
“There’s a 55-45% chance right now that disintegration will occur,” he says. “One could rejoice in that process,” he adds, poker-faced. “But if we’re talking reasonably, it’s not the best scenario — for Russia.” Though Russia would become more powerful on the global stage, he says, its economy would suffer because it currently depends heavily on the dollar and on trade with the U.S.
Mr. Panarin posits, in brief, that mass immigration, economic decline, and moral degradation will trigger a civil war next fall and the collapse of the dollar. Around the end of June 2010, or early July, he says, the U.S. will break into six pieces — with Alaska reverting to Russian control.
After going through a two week span in which I ate cereal every night and would near orgasm over store brand bran flakes, I’ve just now realized I haven’t had a bowl of cereal in nearly a month.
On a side note, all my cereal appears stale.
The 20 Unhealthiest Drinks in America. (Men’s Health, ht Amanda @PF.org)
1. The Worst Drink in America
Baskin-Robbins Large Heath Bar Shake2,310 calories
108 g fat (64 g saturated)
266 g
That’s nothing compared to a holiday tradition in our household: bacon-n-eggnog lard shakes, encased in a 5-inch corn syrup brulee crust and topped with fried cow brains and rocks of crystal methamphetamine.
All my neighbors who have been shoveling their driveways and side/streetwalks the past week now are surrounded by large, monolithic mounds of snow that will probably take days or months to dissipate. I, on the other hand, am now entirely without snow on my property.
Who’s the asshole now?
I’ve long had a round egg fetish, and was pleased when this year I was gifted with a pair of these round egg molds purchased from Crate and Barrel.
Here are the results of employing the devices to top a smoked ham and anaheim chili hash. As you can see, these eggs are round.
On a side note, this hash used about $1.12 of raw ingredients, and tasted better than 90% of the hashes I’ve bought on the free market, yet people all over this city line up and wait for 55 minutes for the privilege of paying $10 or more for the same experience. I’ll never understand white people.
Alba Osteria is a northern Italian restaurant located right off Capitol Highway, in Southwest Portland’s Hillsdale neighborhood. For the last few years — if you’ve skimmed the local food sites — many online discriminating diners in Portland appear to hold this modest eatery in high regard. I tend to agree with these people.
Antipasti.
Carne Cruda. This was well sourced and prepared, and expertly assembled. It did, however, need a little “oomph”, and the waitress indulged our request of lemon slices that in our minds took this dish over the top.
Pork crepinette with grilled treviso (radicchio). A sausage of sorts, filled with ground and chopped assortments of various body parts. The first few bites were quite welcome, with subsequent alternating between livery and gamy. One of the crepinettes was a bit undercooked, and to their credit the comped the dish, even though we ate an entire half. I’m not sure if I could order and eat this in its entirety again, but wouldn’t hesitate to split amongst four people.
Primi. Alba is highly regarded for their house made pasta…
…in particular this rich, egg-yolk infused, thinly pulled tajarin, lightly folded in this case into a savory fennel sausage ragu.
These hearty pork, veal, and rabbit stuffed agnolotti, topped with fried sage leaves, further demonstrate the kitchen’s deft touch with fresh pasta. Very “earthy”.
Canneloni Barbaroux. An incredibly rich and satisfying dish of thick sheets of pasta, filled with seasoned minced veal and herbs, and topped with a thick and velvety bechamel-type sauce.
Side shot of the canneloni.
Secondi. Usually by the time we get here, I’m stuffed.
Porcini crust halibut, with sauteed chantarelle mushrooms, roasted cauliflower, served adjacent polenta. At this point, I was a bit full, and a bit buzzed as my brother was the designated driver, but the porcini crust on the halibut was interesting, but in my opinion the fish maybe suffered a bit by absorbing too much heat from getting the porcini crust. Still, an ultimately satisfying dish, after a few Barolos.
I enjoy this restaurant. If you see gnocchi on the menu, I highly suggest you order it as the dish I’ve had was excellent. The few times I’ve been to Alba I’ve been served by this very attractive waitress that makes me embarrassed to bring my wife back here as she noticed my wandering eyes the first time, but goddamnit, that tajarin will make me eat crow.
Alba Osteria
6440 SW Capitol Highway
Portland, Oregon 97239.
Serving dinner from 5:30, Tuesday thru Saturday
503-977-3045
Website
Elsewhere on the Interwebbishness
HA & VL is ostensibly a bánh mì shop on SE 82nd, located just north of the Fubonn shopping center. A sandwich shop that just happens to serve a rotating menu of daily soup specials that are only available for certain hours early in the day. Alternating daily, the specials are available from opening (9am) until they run out. I’ve stopped by after 1pm on a couple days only to be told by the wonderfully polite and charming proprietor that they had unfortunately stopped special soup service.
The daily menu lineup can be viewed by clicking on this sentence which is a hyperlink.
Above is the Peppery Pork Meatball Soup, aka ‘bun moc’, which is described as “Pork meatballs slightly laced with black pepper, slices of pork in pork broth”. In addition to the aforementioned pork slices and pork meatballs, the soup is also accompanied by delicious fried fishballs, thick slices of what appears to be house-made cha lua, green onions, and a few leaves of rau rum.
The garnish platter, with fresh jalapenos, sprouts, shredded iceberg, mints (including parilla). A bit spartan, but to their credit, the waitress (who I think is the owners’ daughter) asked me less than halfway through my bowl if I’d like an additional plate of veggie. The service here really is wonderful, absent the cold, gruff scowls commonplace at many Viet establishments.
In addition to the hoisin, fish sauce, and sriracha garnishes you find at most Viet soup shops, there are these wonderfully twee containers…
…that house these fiery pickled fresh chilies, which add a nice kick to your soup.
As you can see, the noodles are of the larger rice-based variety, the kind you’d find in bun bo hue.
The variety of delicious meats and a solid and flavorfully distinct broth chock full of spiciness and “clarity” — combined with solid garnishes — instantly makes the bun moc at HA & VL one of Portland’s top bowls.
HA & VL Sandwich and Soup
2738 SE 82nd Ave # 103
Portland, OR 97266
(503) 772-0103
The Interwebs
BB@ Eat.Drink.Think. has been there
So has the Oregonian‘s Karen Brooks
Yelp
Portlandfood.org
Since this is the view from my bedroom, I’m eating white rice mixed with two cans of sardines DEBONED WITH MY BARE FINGERS.
For some reason, I’ve decided I’m now generally ambivalent towards angelhair pasta. Rigatoni, you’re also on notice.
Any suggestions on what to do with this? I was thinking something perfunctory like chili.
Big layoffs at Budweiser. (Foyston @Oregonian)
Anheuser-Busch announced plans to cut around “1,400 U.S. salaried positions in its beer-related divisions, affecting about 6 percent of the company’s total U.S. workforce,” three-quarters of which were at A-B HQ in St. Louis. Also, 250 vacant position will now not be filled and 415 independent contractors will also be terminated.
The announced workforce reductions are in addition to the more than 1,000 U.S. salaried employees company-wide who accepted the company’s voluntary enhanced retirement program, which closed November 14 and provided special benefits for eligible employees retiring by the end of 2008.
It’s getting rough out there when American lager is no longer recession-proof.
Jeremy Piven Quits Broadway, “Extreme Mercury Toxicity. (Huff Post)
The doctor says that Jeremy is suffering from extreme mercury toxicity. Colker tells ET that a major symptom of mercury poisoning is extreme fatigue. In addition, Jeremy began experiencing neuro-muscular dysfunction late last week, which led to extreme difficulty in lifting his arms and legs. Then, this past Sunday, he began feeling dizzy. Now, the doctors have ordered enforced rest. Jeremy spent three days in the hospital recently and the doctor tells us exclusively that he is no longer in New York.
Colker tells ET that Jeremy has been an avid sushi eater for many years, regularly eating sushi twice in one day. He notes that Jeremy has also taken certain Chinese herbs, and that, in combination with the frequent sushi consumption, could have led to these elevated mercury levels.
Cake request for 3-year-old Hitler namesake denied. (AP/Yahoo!)
A supermarket is defending itself for refusing to a write out 3-year-old Adolf Hitler Campbell’s name on his birthday cake.
Deborah Campbell, 25, of nearby Hunterdon County, N.J., said she phoned in her order last week to the Greenwich ShopRite. When she told the bakery department she wanted her son’s name spelled out, she was told to talk to a supervisor, who denied the request.
Karen Meleta, a ShopRite spokeswoman, said the store denied similar requests from the Campbells the last two years, including a request for a swastika.
“We reserve the right not to print anything on the cake that we deem to be inappropriate,” Meleta said. “We considered this inappropriate.”
The Campbells ultimately got their cake decorated at a Wal-Mart in Pennsylvania, Deborah Campbell said Tuesday.
ZIRP! (NY Times)
From the comments:
Do you have any prediction for when creative lucky people might see the end of this?
— Lynn
December 16, 2008
3:44 pm
This is for us Portlanders who are currently paralyzed with fear by the recent snow and ice:
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For orders over $500, we’ll deliver them ourselves**, even on the weekend.
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Pretty cool.
Calling All Cars: Trouble at Chuck E. Cheese’s, Again. (WSJ)
In Brookfield, Wis., no restaurant has triggered more calls to the police department since last year than Chuck E. Cheese’s.
Officers have been called to break up 12 fights, some of them physical, at the child-oriented pizza parlor since January 2007. The biggest melee broke out in April, when an uninvited adult disrupted a child’s birthday party. Seven officers arrived and found as many as 40 people knocking over chairs and yelling in front of the restaurant’s music stage, where a robotic singing chicken and the chain’s namesake mouse perform.
Classic.
True story: I worked at Chuck E. Cheese for a summer when I was 14 years old. It was run by teenagers, and I would commonly press the token button after hours (I learned this from the Manager On Duty) and harvest hundreds of trinkets which would be exchanged at school for goods and services.
I WAS Chuck E Cheese. Meaning, during birthday parties, I would temporarily discontinue my bussing duties to don a rat costume, make a guest appearance and press some flesh. I would then kick off straggling kids who would commonly attach themselves to Chuck E’s leg as he tried to make his way back to the changing room.
Good times.
I recently took my daughter to Chuck E. Cheese recently and was surprised that the salad bar was actually well stocked and semi-fresh. And the pizza was about 500% better than Pizza Hut. But that’s not saying all that much.
Hard Times for Parmigiano Makers Have Italy Ponying Up the Cheddar. (WSJ, hat tip Sauce Supreme)
The world is bailing out banks and car companies. Italy is coming to the rescue of parmigiano cheese.
In an effort to help producers of the cheese commonly grated over spaghetti, fettuccine and other pastas, the Italian government is buying 100,000 wheels of Parmigiano Reggiano and donating them to charity.
Though demand for parmigiano is strong in Italy and abroad, producers have been struggling for years to make money, putting the future of Italy’s favorite cheese at risk.
“It’s a tragic situation,” said Marco Iemmi, who has been making parmigiano for 30 years in Salsomaggiore Terme, a small town in Italy’s fertile northern Emilia-Romagna region. “I’ll have to close up shop unless things improve.”
Whole Foods Warns of Layoffs and Smaller Stores. (The Stranger)
Blaming a tough economy, Whole Foods executives sent an ominous letter to all employees in its Pacific Northwest stores last month that warns of potential layoffs, announces a hiring freeze, and says new stores are on hold.
“Many teams are clearly overstaffed for their current sales and are at the point where labor needs to be reduced…” the memo says. It adds that as “sales soften,” the company has accumulated $59,000 in labor deficits. “Team sales and labor will be reviewed in January and tough decisions may be made if we are unable to achieve sales to labor balance by that time.” The memo says no layoffs will occur before January.
Apropos to this and this? I dunno. I ended my boycott after a few hours as I needed some salad dressing.
I saw this on my cable television a while ago, and after viewing I sat on my couch for some time, transfixed and deeply disturbed, unable to process outside stimuli. Hat tip to Serious Eats.
Now, why would I order this from Whiskey Soda Lounge to-go just to meticulously rearrange it back at the homestead?
Well, the noodles hold up really well, and everything is packaged rather nicely, down to the pickled veg, lime, shallots, and toasty, fiery nam-prik pao. And the Vietnamese half in me demands that the rich, succulent, gravy-like broth be soaked up with crusty french bread. It becomes a dish that feeds two. Enough to occasionally warrant the surplus generated carbon.
Hard times hit Bay Area restaurants. (SF Gate)
Bay Area waiters have a nickname for many of their customers these days: the non’trée.
Non’trée (pronounced “non-tray”) refers to the folks who order appetizers rather than a pricier entree – a popular practice in economic hard times. In fact, as the value of real estate plummets, the stock market totters and the jobless rate grows, diners are sharing meals, skipping dessert, opting to drown their sorrows in a glass of wine rather than ordering a whole bottle, or staying home altogether.
Not since 9/11 have Bay Area restaurants, whether it be the fancy, white-tablecloth ones or the cozy neighborhood hangouts, seen such a lull in business. But this time, restaurant owners say, it’s worse. Even in an area known for its obsession with food, some restaurants say revenue is down as much as 40 percent. Many restaurateurs are laying off workers; others reducing the days they are open. Then there are those who are just plain calling it quits.
“Maybe restaurateurs should ask for a bailout – more people in the Bay Area eat at Pasta Pomodoro than drive Fords,” said Adriano Paganini, founder of the California bargain pasta chain.
McDonald’s Sales Climb As Consumers Seek Deals. (Huffington Post)
Consumers hungry for cheap meals boosted worldwide sales at McDonald’s Corp.’s established locations by 7.7 percent in November, more proof of how the fast-food leader is thriving in a downturn that has eaten into sales at its competitors.
…
McDonald’s has largely been able to keep its profits intact despite the higher costs. But the chain has had to make changes to its menu to protect its margins, including raising the price of its popular Double Cheeseburger and replacing the sandwich on the Dollar Menu with a new double burger that has one slice of cheese instead of two.
I went to McDonald’s last week looking to try this newfangled double burger, and was disappointed to get the normal ole’ Double Cheeseburger with the extra slice of cheese. True story.
Best Baguette, the shiny, modern banh mi outfit in Southeast Portland, has opened a Westside location in Beaverton.
This location does not have a drive-thru, but it does have a menu.
Furthermore, they also have Maggi (albeit the erstwhile North American version) for you to douse your sandwiches into salt bomb oblivion. Love it.
Saigon bacon.
Unctuous, flabby, and lukewarm slices of near-pure fat. Kinda gross, actually, until you eat it.
Looks like there’s a new Vietnamese restaurant next door. Looks sterile. Big surprise.
Best Baguette Beaverton
3645 SW Hall Blvd
Beaverton, OR 97005
(503) 626-2288
Get directions
IMPORTANT TACKINESS WARNING: Jen@Oishii Eats tipped me off that Best Baguette’s concept may be entirely ripped off from this place in Southern California. Since the menu, branding, and store design appear to be nearly identical on many levels, I will give them the benefit of the doubt and assume it’s a satellite. Now, this could probably be all cleared up with a single phone call, but I’m not exactly Woodward and Bernstein and I’ve got a job and stuff (for now).
Best Baguette on the WORLD WIDE WEB
Jack Daniels Maker Doing Awesome In This Economy. (Clusterstock)
It’s not just a joke: People are really turning to drink in this economy. Brown Forman (BF) the maker of Jack Daniels and Finlandia Vodka reported an awesome quarter.
Foodies Make a Pitch to Obama (Diner’s Journal, NYT)
The fact that a Secretary of Agriculture has yet to be named has some chefs, farmers and animal welfare advocates wondering whether food and farming have been shoved to the Obama D team.
To help move the process along, nearly 90 notable figures in the world of sustainable agriculture and food sent a letter to the Obama transition team earlier this week offering their six top picks for what they called “the sustainable choice for the next U.S. Secretary of Agriculture.”
Still awesome.
Pilgrim’s Pride files for bankruptcy protection (Bloomberg)
Pilgrim’s Pride Corp., the nation’s largest chicken producer, filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection on Monday, hobbled by its debt load and volatile feed prices.
The Pittsburg, Texas-based company sought bankruptcy protection in a filing with the U.S. Bankruptcy Court for the Northern District of Texas on Monday, saying that as of Sept. 27 it had $3.75 billion in assets and $2.72 billion in debts.
…
The nation’s meat makers, especially Pilgrim’s Pride, are hurting as their profits shrink in the wake of high commodity prices for key inputs like corn and oil. Those prices are moderating after reaching record highs this summer, but they are still high for producers. Further hurting the industry is weak pricing due to a drop in demand in foodservice and an oversupply of meat on the market.
Depression 2009: What would it look like? (Boston Herald)
And while very few would starve, a depression would change how we eat. Food costs remain far below what they were for a family in the 1920s and 1930s, but they have been rising in recent years, and many people already on the edge of poverty would be unable to feed themselves on their own in a harsh economic climate – soup kitchens are already seeing an uptick in attendance. At the high end of the market, specialty and organic foods – which drove the success of chains like Whole Foods – would seem pointlessly expensive; the booming organic food movement could suffer as people start to see specially grown produce as more of a luxury than a moral choice. New England’s surviving farmers would be particularly hard-hit, as demand for their seasonal, relatively high-cost products dried up.
According to Marion Nestle, a food and public health professor at New York University, people low on cash and with more time on their hands will cook more rather than go out. They may also, Nestle suggests, try their hands at growing and even raising more of their own food, if they have any way of doing so. Among the green lawns of suburbia, kitchen gardens would spring up. And it might go well beyond just growing your own tomatoes: early last month, the English bookstore chain Waterstone’s reported a 200 percent increase in the sales of books on keeping chickens.
At the same time, the cheapest option for many is decidedly less rustic: meals like packaged macaroni and cheese and drive-through fast food. And we’re likely to see a move in that direction, as well, toward cheaper, easier calories. If so, lean times could have the odd effect of making the population fatter, as more Americans eat like today’s poor.
McDonald’s sued over nude photos. (BBC)
A US couple is suing McDonald’s for $3m (£2m) after nude photos of the woman, which were on her husband’s mobile phone, ended up on the internet.
Phillip Sherman says he accidentally left his phone, with the photos, at a McDonald’s in Fayetteville, Arkansas.
He says staff promised to secure the phone until he could retrieve it.
The Shermans claim they had to move to a new home after the woman’s name, address, and phone number appeared online along with the photos.
Not sure why McDonald’s is culpable, unless of course the husband happened to eat a McRib.
About a Bird. (NY Times Opinion)
Now consider the bird that will soon be on your plate. It probably hatched in an incubator on a huge farm, most likely in the Midwest or the South. Its life went downhill from there.
Across France, Cafe Owners Are Suffering. (NY Times)
The plight of Ms. Guérin is being replicated all over France, as traditional cafes and bars suffer and even close, hit by changing attitudes, habits and now a poor economic climate. In 1960, France had 200,000 cafes, said Bernard Quartier, president of the National Federation of Cafes, Brasseries and Discotheques. Now it has fewer than 41,500, with an average of two closing every day.
The number of bankruptcies filed by cafe bars in the first six months of 2008 rose by 56 percent over the same period a year ago, according to a study by Euler Hermes SFAC, a large credit insurance company. No reliable figures are available for the latter part of this year, when an economic slowdown here has been accelerated by the general financial crisis, a collapse in consumer confidence and the quick tightening of credit.
They should go on strike.
It’s funny because it’s true.
George’s Giant Hamburgers is located in Tigard, just off the 99W as it transforms from Barbur Blvd. and leaves Portland proper.
As you can see, the windows boasts that they grind meat fresh. Daily. Except Sundays, when they are closed. So they are liars.
Click on the above photo to view a larger photo of full menu.
This is the menu addendum.
There’s a well-stocked garnish bar, with sauces that include a special-saucey 1000 Island-type concoction that for all I know is actually 1000 Island dressing. I don’t eat things named after mystical places.
The garnish bar includes a salsa fresca, jalapenos, and two types of pickles, even. Well, three, if you include relish as a type of pickle, and I don’t, but I’m not gonna fight you on this.
The bun at George’s is always toasted.
The fries are thicker cut, and fairly decent, though could be a bit crisper. Some people get all freaky about fries and shit and will only eat one style, but I personally like freshly cut and fried potatoes with the skin on.
A fully dressed hamburger. Verdict? The meat isn’t all that flavorful, but it tastes like beef. It’s an honest, simple burger, albeit overcooked to well-done. The pre-cooked weight of the standard burger is 1/3 of a pound. The bun is nicely toasted. At $4.45, it’s only a little over a dollar more than the Whopper™ Sandwich you’ll find just a couple hundred yards down the street, and much better since it’s not microwaved and sitting upon a bottom bun the consistency of refrigerated day-old gravy.
And as you can witness by the three fresh pickle spears, I enjoy over-accessorizing my burger. The quality and selection of the garnish bar makes George’s an infinitely better value than typical fast-food fare. Thick slices of red onion, freshly chopped lettuce, and uniform, meaty slices of tomato…as a comparison, nearly half the time I’ve had a burger at Burgerville the sole tomato slice was simply the very crown of the fruit with a hole in the middle. You won’t find this at George’s, because you’re master of your own burger domain.
George’s Giant Hamburgers
11640 SW Pacific Hwy
Tigard, OR 97223-8674
Phone: (503) 639-8029
This is simply a serving package from fine instant ramen purveyor Myojo Chukazanmai‘s excellent line of (non-fried) noodle soups. The soup in question is garnished with mushrooms, greens, onions, and fanned with slices of lemongrass pork whose recipe can be found here.
I don’t care what the haters say. Instant ramen is special.
12-Year-Old’s a Food Critic, and the Chef Loves It (NY Times via Babble Sauce)
You will be missed, my brother.
My daughter only knew her godfather for 4 years. Life is way too short.
(Seasonal Special) The Cubano – Tender roast pork and ham layered with sweet and spicy peppers, onions, Swiss cheese and 1,000 Island dressing. Served grilled on a crusty Bolo Roll.
$7.50 a la carte
Not really a Cubano in the traditional sense, but I would classify it as a gooey, toast-pressed roast pork sandwich with a solid layer of caramelized peppers. There are worse things in this life.
A new low for lobster. (APP.com)
The price of Maine lobster, which accounts for 80 percent of the U.S. catch, is tanking.
The primary factor, a drop-off in demand by penny-pinching diners, has been in place since summer.
…
The industry has scrambled to move product, but with Maine lobstermen alone hauling around 400,000 pounds a day, that’s no easy feat.
Along the Portland waterfront, seafood shops are selling lobsters for as cheap as $3.89 a pound, which is about the price of bologna at the deli counter.
George Foreman Fryer Spins Fried Food To Knock Out Fat. (Gizmodo)
Foreman’s Lean Mean Fryer uses a “Smart Spin” technology after your food’s been fried to allegedly whirl out 55% of the fat absorbed during frying using centrifugal force. I’m not sure how scientific that fat-busting claim is or how safe I feel having boiling oil spinning around in my kitchen, but if you’re a fan of fried foods, this cooking godsend is now available in North America for $150.
Sign o’ the times.
Nation Finally Shitty Enough To Make Social Progress. (The Onion)
Although polls going into the final weeks of October showed Sen. Obama in the lead, it remained unclear whether the failing economy, dilapidated housing market, crumbling national infrastructure, health care crisis, energy crisis, and five-year-long disastrous war in Iraq had made the nation crappy enough to rise above 300 years of racial prejudice and make lasting change.
Amen.
It’s getting ugly out there this political season.
“I am not and have never been a vegetarian,” Brown said. “I am disgusted by the baseless allegation that I am a vegetarian.”
Landmark Genoa restaurant to shut after 38 years. (OregonLive)
In Europe, crisis revives old memories. (IHT)
“I haven’t forgotten history,” says Gert Heinz, a tax adviser in Munich. “If you depend on paper money you can lose everything. We’ve learned that the hard way after two world wars.”
So when Chancellor Angela Merkel went on television recently to tell Germans that their bank accounts were safe, Heinz, who at 68 still remembers the rows of canned food that his mother hoarded in the attic, decided he would rather be safe than sorry.
He converted another chunk of his savings into gold and stocked up on a six-month supply of rice, sugar, flour and a special brand of milk powder that lasts for half a century.
As has been reported elsewhere, the trendy and quirky Portland eatery Rocket has closed.
User lilhuna @PFD.com also reports Mercado in the Pearl has shuttered.
On the heels of all this bad news, we get this:
The economic crisis gripping the nation has claimed a high-profile local victim and sent shock waves through Portland’s restaurant industry.
Izzy’s, a local chain of family restaurants, announced they are closing five locations after a buyer backed out of a deal to purchase the chain due to the credit crunch. That includes the Newberg, McMinnville and Wilsonville locations. The two locations were unclear.
The chain has 23 locations in cities stretching from Seattle to central Oregon.
Customers showing up at the closed locations found the lights off and doors locked and a hand-written note saying simply “sorry, we are closed” on the front door.
Bonus sign-o-the-times: filed under “Related Content” at the aforementioned link was this headline: “Hot dog stand sees sales rise in bad economy“.
Purple Tomatoes May Help Prevent Cancer. (Web MD)
A new breed of tomatoes that are specially engineered to have extra antioxidants may help prevent cancer, according to a new study.
Scientists in Europe transferred certain genes of snapdragons to tomatoes, creating a tomato with a dark purple color and loads of antioxidants. Researchers tested the tomatoes on cancer-prone mice; they found that a diet supplemented by purple tomato powder increased the life span of the mice compared to mice eating a standard diet or a diet supplemented with red tomato powder.
Looks like The Food Network has given Guy Fieri a live show in front an audience, appropriately named Off the Hook.
I wasn’t a fan, but in retrospect it makes Emeril Live look like Meet the Press.
Dang’s Thai Kitchen is located on the “outskirts” of northern Lake Oswego, straddling the Willamette river on the west side of the 43 as it emerges from the road formerly known as Macadam.
The dining room is clean and modern.
A refreshing Thai iced tea.
Angel Wings. Deboned chicken wings, stuffed with ground shrimp, pork, and woodear mushrooms, battered and deep fried. Hell yes, they are as delicious as they sound. Served with a sweet chili dipping sauce.
Som tum. I actually liked Dang’s version better than Pok Pok.
Tofu pad kee mao. Solid version of what is normally considered pedestrian Thai fare (albeit it’s a favorite of mine).
Beef pumpkin curry. Oh my.
Battered halibut bathed in a sweet and sour sauce, and topped with fried basil leaves.
Thai fried rice.
In terms of CYOM (“Choose-Your-Own-Meat” – a term introduced to me at Portlandfood.org by Nick Zukin aka Extra MSG) Thai restaurants in metro Portland, Dang’s Thai Kitchen in northern Lake Oswego clearly sets itself apart amongst the competition with deliciously executed “classics”. If you’re a fan of Thai food it is seriously recommended.
Dang’s Thai Kitchen
670 N State St
Lake Oswego, OR 97034
Phone: (503) 697-0779
Links
WHY IS BAD FOOD CHEAP? (Ezra Klein@The American Prospect)
Eye-opening post on the true cost of food and the “free” market canard.
RNC shells out $150K for Palin fashion. (Politico)
“With all of the important issues facing the country right now, it’s remarkable that we’re spending time talking about pantsuits and blouses,” said spokeswoman Tracey Schmitt. “It was always the intent that the clothing go to a charitable purpose after the campaign.”
Just like that Seinfeld episode where the homeless were given puffy shirts.
The RNC: Clothing America’s Needy
I need to say something about Dick Cheney in order to add categorical significance to this post. Done.
Tourists Toss Aside a Chance to Taste History. (NY Times)
It is true that the water can be problematic south of the border, if it is consumed directly from the tap or used to wash one’s salad fixings. At the same time, fine dining abounds throughout Mexico, white tablecloth affairs with celebrity chefs, mouthwatering menus and fancy water that comes from elegantly shaped bottles.
Although not in that lofty league, there is one eatery with a particularly distinguished history that is relevant to the question of whether one should consume salads in Mexico. Called Caesar’s Restaurant, it sits in the seediest of spots, along Tijuana’s Avenida Revolución, and specializes in salad — Caesar salad, to be exact, which it says was invented in its kitchen in 1924.
Colin Powell Endorses Obama. (Huff Post)
The Fox News headline for this footnote in history will most likely read something like: “Colin Powell Says Obama ‘Will Slap America’s Bitch Up’“.
It’s quickly become a ritual for me. Each time I see a band at Wonder Ballroom, I have a delicious pre-meal at Toro Bravo next door. Life could suck much more.
The show in question was last week’s Stars concert. Stars is a Canadian band that crafts wonderful little nuggets of pop goodness.
The night started off with a Red Delicious(?). Aviation gin, muddled with roasted red peppers and mint.
The menu at Toro Bravo now features a “charcuterie” section, which included this BLT with heirloom tomatoes, arugula, and house-cured bacon. I could not keep myself from ordering it, and it was delivered open-faced. A toasted slice of crusty bread, smeared with a delicious aioli, served as the base. It was just how I envisioned it. Tart zucchini pickles were a nice side.
This is a flash-saturated, washed out photo of the spicy prawn and octopus stew, studded with piquant caper berries. I find this dish impossible not to order every time I visit Toro Bravo.
The “Barwikowski”, a nod to Clyde Common’s Jason Barwikowski, in this case included a pint of Caldera pale and a shot of tequila (Patron).
This set the stage nicely for Stars.
A Meal Fit For A Candidate: Barack Obama. (NPR)
When Sen. Barack Obama and his wife, Michelle, want a special night out in Chicago, they often head for the award-winning Mexican restaurant Topolobampo. But don’t equate the word “Mexican” with burritos and refried beans.
Chef Rick Bayless founded “Topolo,” as locals call it, almost 20 years ago to prove to Americans that genuine Mexican cooking can be as sophisticated as French and Italian.
No word on if Obama has a similar affinity for Rick’s brother Skip, who finds wonderfully ornery ways to piss people off with his bizarre and rambling sports opinions.
As Checks Shrink, Restaurants Stretch Hours. (NY Times)
Restaurants that once served two distinct meals a day, lunch and dinner, are acting more like diners, opening early in the morning and keeping their kitchens busy late into the night, and serving in the traditionally slow times between meals. And places that used to close one or two days a week to give the staff a night off now see that as a luxury they can no longer afford. The shift toward all-hours dining has been going on for some time. In part, it reflects the busy lives of New Yorkers, who may start the day with a business meeting over scones and lattes, or spend the afternoon answering e-mail in one of the restaurants around town that offer free wireless connections.
With Goat, a Rancher Breaks Away From the Herd. (NY Times)
BILL NIMAN is not the rancher he once was.
Last year Mr. Niman walked away from the meat company he started in the 1970s with not much more than a handful of cattle and a political philosophy built on self-sufficiency.
Niman Ranch, which takes in annual sales of $85 million, was founded on the notion that the better an animal is treated, the better the meat will be. His beef was so good that in the early 1980s Alice Waters made it the first proper-noun meat on the menu at her Berkeley restaurant, Chez Panisse. His pigs, raised humanely by 600 family farms in Iowa, provide pork for the Chipotle chain’s carnitas. Niman Ranch bacon, hot dogs and sausage fill grocery cases around the country.
But Mr. Niman is no longer a part of the company. Angry and discouraged after prolonged battles with a new management team over money and animal protocols, he left in August 2007 with a modest severance check and a small amount of stock.
He can’t use his surname to sell meat, and he had to surrender the small herd of breeding cattle that lived on his ranch here, about an hour’s drive north of San Francisco. The cattle were direct descendants of the ones he tended back in the days of counterculture, not profit margin.
But Mr. Niman, 63, is done licking his wounds. With a herd of goats and a young vegetarian wife he nicknamed Porkchop by his side, he is jumping back into the meat game.
“I think I am returning to my original roots,” said Mr. Niman, who still lives in the little house he built on ranchland that kisses the Pacific Ocean.
Also, Dick Cheney had some heart issues today. Hope that turns out OK. We want him alive in case of prosecution.
NYC restaurants slammed by financial crisis. (MSNBC via Food Dude)
Sanz, like other restaurant owners in New York City, is seeing the first wave of the financial crisis rocking Wall Street and the world. Industry analysts say people are dining out less often, and when they do they are spending less per check.
Business at full-service restaurants is declining nationwide, according to Technomic, a Chicago-based restaurant consultancy. Preliminary figures for the third quarter show that sales at restaurants open at least one year fell 2.6 percent from year-earlier levels, despite higher prices. The figure is based on restaurants that are part of publicly traded companies.
Adding to the malaise is the soaring cost of food — about 9 percent over the last year according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics — as well as a fear that the tourism dollars that have buoyed New York’s economy may disappear as the crisis goes global.
I couldn’t help but notice the first ad in the right column:
Ouch.
The Big Lebowski cake episode of “Ace of Cakes” was pretty awesome.
Burger. Ciabatta…always with the ciabatta. No tomatoes, which makes me cry. Pickled onions, honking slice o’white cheddar, and ok fries. At $11, it’s $3 cheaper than their veggie burger. That better be some fucking intense veggie burger.
”Dungeness Crab, Heirloom Tomatoes & Spinach Benedict, On Alonso’s English Muffin with Hollandaise & Crisp potato Cake”. Very good. For $16, it should be.
The story behind Philippe’s and its famous French dip. (LA Times)
You can’t go back in time to ask Philippe “Frenchy” Mathieu, the founder of Philippe’s. But you can journey to that era, price-wise, on Monday when the North Alameda Street restaurant throws a centennial bash.
From 4 to 8 p.m., sandwiches (normally $5.35 to $6.50) will sell for 10 cents, and coffee (normally 9 cents) will be reduced to a nickel. (Tips of more than 20% for the servers might be in order this day.)
How is Sarah Palin continually touted by the McCain campaign (and in the press, for that matter) as being an “expert” in energy? I mean, has she even completed a relevant online course from the University of Phoenix? Attended a symposium?
From what I can gather (~20 seconds of the Google search engine), her main qualifications are:
a) Her husband worked as an oil field production supervisor.
b) She wants to open up Alaska and drill it.
That’s like claiming I’m a gynecologist because I want to explore vagina and my brother is the doorman at a strip club.
Basic grocery items rise 10.5% from last year. (WSJ)
Families have been feeling increasing financial pain at grocery-store cash registers, exacerbating their difficulties in the souring U.S. economy.
Here’s how much it hurts: A basket of 16 basic food items cost $48.68 over the past three months, up 10.5% from a year ago, the American Farm Bureau Federation said Thursday.
The latest survey from the nation’s largest farm organization underscores the pressures reverberating throughout the food chain, from the American farm to the executive suites of the largest U.S. packaged-food manufacturers.Besides the elevated costs for basic food ingredients, rising energy prices have boosted processing, hauling, and refrigerating expenses for food makers including Kraft Foods Inc. and Campbell Soup Company.
Potatoes, cheddar cheese and apples posted the largest price gains from the second quarter of this year. A five-pound bag of potatoes cost $3.38, up 83 cents. Cheddar was $4.91 a pound, up 31 cents. Apples fetched $1.80 a pound, up 26 cents.
Among other items that rose are the following: pork chops, up 22 cents to $3.62 a pound; ground chuck, rising 10 cents to $2.95 a pound; and whole milk, costing 4 cents more at $3.92 a gallon.
FDA: Tiny bit of melamine OK in most foods.
Tiny traces of melamine, the chemical that has set off a global food safety scare, are not harmful in most foods, except baby formula, government experts said Friday.
The Food and Drug Administration said Friday its safety experts have concluded that eating a minuscule amount of melamine — 2.5 parts per million — would not raise health concerns, even if a person ate food every day that was tainted with the chemical.
“It would be like if you had a million grains of sand and they were all white, and you had two or three that were black, that’s kind of the magnitude,” said Stephen Sundlof, director of the FDA’s food safety program.
I suppose the same can be said about shit.
Calif. Requires Menus To Detail Nutrition. (Wash Post)
Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger signed a bill Tuesday requiring chain restaurants to put calorie counts on their menus and indoor menu boards, making California the first state to enact such a law in the battle against America’s expanding waistline.
The law requires chains with 20 or more locations — more than 17,000 restaurants statewide — to post the information by 2011. Starting in July, restaurants and drive-throughs will have to offer menus that provide information on the calories, saturated fat, carbohydrates and sodium in each item.
With the amount of medicinal marijuana dispensaries cropping up all over the state, I don’t think this law will do much.
I truly hope the Vice Presidential debate is cancelled. For the sake of humanity.
Oh yeah, and the current VP can suck my hairy, bedraggled nut sack.
Check out Balla Powder for Men, which is ostensibly talcum powder specifically for your ball sack and, presumably, the entire taint region.
Finally, my prayers have been answered.
Why Pepperoni Pizza Sucks. (Slice)
Fuck that noise.
Cadbury pulls melamine-laced chocolate from China. (AP/Yahoo! News)
British candy maker Cadbury announced a recall Monday of chocolate made in its Beijing factory after it was found to contain melamine, the industrial chemical that has sickened tens of thousands of Chinese children.
The 11 recalled items were sold in parts of Asia and the Pacific, the company said in a statement. Cadbury’s chocolates sold in the United States were not affected, said a spokesman for Hershey’s, Cadbury’s sole U.S. distributor.
Meanwhile, Kraft Foods, the maker of Oreo cookies, and Mars, the maker of M&Ms and Snickers candy, questioned the findings of Indonesian tests that identified melamine in samples of their products made in China.
Sounds delicious.
The world has one less legend. Paul Newman, R.I.P.
I’m wondering—out of sheer sociological and metallurgical curiosity—if I should eat a McRib today?
What the 21st Century Will Taste Like. (Esquire, via Kottke)
But guess what? The machinery that’s pumped so much meat into our lives over the last half century was never built to last, and now it’s breaking down big-time. Feed is more expensive. Gasoline is more expensive. Milk, rice, butter, corn–it’s all going through the roof. And for the foreseeable future, it’s not coming back down.
What the fuck is “spicy lava sauce“?
Dear Mr. Bernanke and Mr. Paulson:
My student loans are too big and it is hurting the economy. Can I have a bailout, please? I need $92,000.
Thanks.
Nathan Kottke
St. Paul, Sept.
17, 2008
Dick Cheney would tell your hippie ass to STFU.
Chilly economy fires up home cooking, experts say. (CNN)
But after years of eating out, many people have found they don’t have a pot to cook in or a cookbook to guide them.
The sudden rush to buy basic cooking necessities has driven up sales of cookbooks, inexpensive cookware and the basic foods needed to concoct a meal. And cooking magazines and Web sites are booming even as magazine sales overall have suffered.
About 45 percent of Americans are eating out less this year to save money, a nearly 12 percent increase from 2007, according to BIGResearch, a Worthington, Ohio-based firm that does consumer research.
I too have noticed an uptick in Sevruga-and-Kraft-singles sandwiches at the GC household these days.
“Opening up the health insurance market to more vigorous nationwide competition, as we have done over the last decade in banking, would provide more choices of innovative products less burdened by the worst excesses of state-based regulation.”
Oh yeah, and fuck you, Dick Cheney.
Children of Men was actually a really good movie.
6 Food Mistakes Parents Make. (NYTimes)
Speaking from experience, I’d add a seventh: No cognac with breakfast.
Sad. Consider the Lobster was one of the best essays on a food-related subject, ever.
I bought some of this stuff.
And ate a big plate of it. How was it? Well, I ate a big plate of it.
KFC shoring up security for secret recipe. (AP)
Has anybody ever tried to independently recreate KFC’s 11 secret herbs and spices? Does anybody care?
Thai PM Resigns Over TV Cooking Show. (Huffington Post)
Pork belly stewed with whole eggs and fried tofu in coconut juice and fish sauce. Much better than it looks or sounds.
The New Pornographers’ Challengers is actually really fucking good.
Fresno man arrested in spice, sausage attacks. (SFGate)
Fresno County authorities have arrested a man they say broke into the home of two farmworkers, rubbed one with spices and whacked the other with a sausage before fleeing.
Fresno County sheriff’s Lt. Ian Burrimond says the suspect, 22-year-old Antonio Vasquez of Fresno, was found hiding in a nearby field wearing only a T-shirt, boxer shorts and socks.
The victims told deputies they awoke Saturday morning to the stranger applying spices to one of them and striking the other with an 8-inch sausage.
Burrimond said money allegedly stolen in the burglary was recovered. The sausage was tossed away by the fleeing suspect and eaten by a dog.
The McRib has returned. May God have mercy on our souls.
La Tienda San Francisco is in the heart of picturesque Wilsonville, Oregon, adjacent to an Arby’s and in the same complex as an Izzy’s and a merry-go-round sushi emporium.
In the back of the store, adjacent to the wonderful butcher counter…
…where you can get very good, cooked carnitas by the pound ($6/lb)…
…is an insane seating area replete with pinantas committing any number of intellectual property theft crimes. This seating area serves the taqueria that is operated out of the back of the store, which incidentally is the subject of this taco survey post.
Asada.
Carnitas.
Pastor.
Taco: full metal jacket.
Red salsa and salsa verde.
Verdict? Very, very good tacos. La Tienda San Francisco is also a tortilleria, so their taco fillings are enveloped in large, fresh tortillas. The tacos here (at $1.75 a clip) are a bit more expensive than your average taco truck, but they are also a bit larger. The carnitas is truly delicious, unctuous and meaty. The pastor and asada are made from very same raw, pre-marinated materials they sell behind the butcher counter, and are crisped to order.
My main knock on this place is the timidness of their table sauces. But they are fine salsas, freshly and carefully prepared, just a bit too mild for my tastes. When they first opened they featured a fiery habanero salsa, but alas I’ve yet to experience its return. A fiery salsa would make this one of the best taquerias in the metro area.
As I mentioned, this place is a tortilleria, and sells warm tortillas hot of the press…
… and as you eat your tacos you can watch the baker churn out postres and pan dulce, which they also sell. You already saw the meat. And the name also implies that this is a store.
La Tienda San Francisco
Next to the Arby’s
Wilsonville, OR
Via Danta Amorphic at PortlandFoodandDrink.com, Five Guys Burger and Fries is opening a Beaverton location.
Pok-Pok owner and Weiden + Kennedy partner join forces for Chinatown eatery. (Oregon Live, hat tip to Food Dude)
Pok Pok owner Andy Ricker is teaming with John C. Jay, Weiden+Kennedy’s branding guru, and his fashion-designer wife Janet Jay to open Ping, a restaurant in Chinatown slated for winter 2008-2009.
Anyone who watched Pok Pok transform from take-out shack on Southeast Division to a popular restaurant at the top of Portland’s competitive food scene (watch video above) has wondered: What’s next for Ricker, a vision guy with impressive drive, business smarts and an uncanny feel for Asian street food.
Ping will be a casual hub for Asian snacking and drinking in the (now vacant) bottom floor of the Hung Far Low Building at 102-106 N.W. Fourth Ave. Unlike Pok Pok, Ricker says Ping will be a cross between a izakaya (Japanese pub) and a Southeast Asian cafe and coffeehouse.
The restaurant is part of the Jays’ vision to rejuvenate and modernize Chinatown. Blogging from Beijing on Saturday, Portland mayor-elect Sam Adams wrote: “Portland uber creative guy John C. Jay thinks Portland’s Old Town/Chinatown can be the North American hot spot for Asian contemporary culture and art, i.e. a modern Chinatown. To get a sense of what he was talking about, John suggested I check out Beijing’s 798 Art District.”
Food Costs Feed Health Woes. (WSJ)
Relief from the rising cost of food isn’t expected anytime soon. Food prices increased 4% in 2007 and are expected to be up an additional 5% to 6% this year, according to the Department of Agriculture. The food crisis has sparked riots around the world and stretched pocketbooks at home, but it is for some as much a health concern as an economic problem. Since healthier foods, like whole-wheat bread and fresh fruits, are already more expensive than white bread and processed foods, the increases are acutely felt by people trying to fight serious illnesses.
Dozens Detained Ahead of Convention. (NY Times)
On the weekend before the Republican National Convention, law enforcement agencies detained dozens of people and issued a series of search warrants aimed at groups believed to be organizing demonstrations while delegates and Republican officials are in town.
…
The R.N.C. Welcoming Committee, a group that has said it wants to block roads during the convention, issued a statement Friday night that was read aloud outside the meeting place by a woman who identified herself as Sarah Coffey.Ms. Coffey said that the officers, citing fire violations as the reason for their visit, “detained over 50 people in an attempt to pre-empt planned protests.”
The sheriff’s department continued the sweeps on Saturday morning, executing warrants for three houses in Minneapolis and two in St. Paul, detaining more than 50 people and arresting 4.
Speechless.
Caffeine-free Diet Rite soda is the best-tasting of all diet colas.
WORLD’S DEADLIEST DELICACIES. (Forbes Traveler)
Italy: Casu Marzu
One of the world’s few illegal cheeses, Casu Marzu looks scary, has an almost un-acquirable taste and may have catastrophic, long-term health results. The Sardinian delicacy is made from rotten goat’s milk and served coursing with live maggots. If you can handle the idea and tactile sensation of eating live larvae, you’re rewarded with a strong sour taste that can reportedly stay with you all day. Unfortunately, the human body has difficulty processing maggots, and in some extreme cases the little guys bore through the small intestine, causing bleeding, vomiting and other cheerful moments.
However, the most surprising entry? Jack-in-the-Box’s E. Coli Milkshake.
The Other Extreme: Low-Alcohol Beers. (NY Times)
While many craft brewers are trying to quench the nation’s growing thirst for extreme beers pumped with alcohol, Mr. Taylor is one of a small but growing number of brewers, beer experts and importers who are applying the brakes and turning toward well-made low-alcohol beers.
“A bunch of guys talk in the market,” said Don Feinberg, a founder of Brewery Ommegang in Cooperstown, N.Y., and an importer for Vanberg & DeWulf there. “We’ve all been saying the same thing for about 18 months now, which is, enough of the high octane.”
Mr. Feinberg imports boozy Trappist and farmhouse ales, but in April he introduced a brew from another Belgian tradition: bières de table.
“When I lived there in the late ’70s and early ’80s,” he said of his time in Belgium, “everybody drank it for lunch, from grandmothers to kids.”
Holy shit, I think a baby wasp just flew up my nose.
This is going to be a long night.
Whenever somebody drops the term “per se” into a blanket statement to mitigate his/her own extreme view on any issue, that person is undoubtedly lying.
Example: “I’m not advocating man-on-donkey sex per se, but I do think our sodomy laws are too restrictive.”
Portland, Ore: Go for the Food, Stay for the Food. (The Street.com? via Besty@OurPDX)
If you’re the kind of traveler so interested in food that the word “foodie” makes you shudder a little, it’s time to schedule a trip to Portland, Ore.
Autumn is the best time to visit this city of about 500,000 people, which perches atop many lists as the greenest, fittest, most livable and best designed city in the country. Portland also is the motherland of James Beard, the father of American gastronomy, and it’s a place for food lovers visit who want to eat well and dress down.
I ran across this stuff while searching around on the Interwebs for dried provisions to stock up on in event of nuclear winter or the eventual systematic decay of civilization, which I am estimating to be approximately at the point we realize we’ve shot our oil load and the polar ice caps have inexorably passed the half-way melting point and U2 releases their 16th album.
I decided to use it as a “reddening” agent for my cha sui pork recipe (using country style ribs), in lieu of low-rent commercial product replete with food dye.
Verdict: it works! It adds a slight flavor accentuation that’s hard to describe, but I’d use it again in a pinch.
Fish Tale Has DNA Hook: Students Find Bad Labels. (NY Times)
In a tale of teenagers, sushi and science, Kate Stoeckle and Louisa Strauss, who graduated this year from the Trinity School in Manhattan, took on a freelance science project in which they checked 60 samples of seafood using a simplified genetic fingerprinting technique to see whether the fish New Yorkers buy is what they think they are getting.
They found that one-fourth of the fish samples with identifiable DNA were mislabeled. A piece of sushi sold as the luxury treat white tuna turned out to be Mozambique tilapia, a much cheaper fish that is often raised by farming. Roe supposedly from flying fish was actually from smelt. Seven of nine samples that were called red snapper were mislabeled, and they turned out to be anything from Atlantic cod to Acadian redfish, an endangered species.
Burger King Profits Rise 42 Percent As Consumers Stuff Their Nervous Faces. (Huffington Post)
Burger King Holdings Inc., the nation’s No. 2 hamburger chain, said Thursday its profit surged 42 percent in its fiscal fourth quarter, driven by a rise in sales at established locations and a slew of promotions.
Seriously, Team Obama, WTF are you guys doing standing there with your hands in your pockets? Slam a stiff drink, take a deep breath, and get out on the dance floor.
Pretend Dick Cheney is about to shoot you in the face.
Drink Outside the Box. (NY Times Op-Ed)
ITALY’S Agriculture Ministry announced this month that some wines that receive the government’s quality assurance label may now be sold in boxes. That’s right, Italian wine is going green, and for some connoisseurs, the sky might as well be falling.
But the sky isn’t falling. Wine in a box makes sense environmentally and economically. Indeed, vintners in the United States would be wise to embrace the trend that is slowly gaining acceptance worldwide.
Football season is coming up, so here’s another wing recipe I’ve recently declared as worthy of a spot on the practice squad.
Chicken wings seasoned with spices and stuff
- 1 tablespoon fish sauce
- 1 tablespoon Maggi®
- 1 tablespoon rice vinegar
- 1 tablespoon rice wine
- 1 teaspoon sugar
- 1 teaspoon sambal/chili garlic sauce
- Juice of half lime
Whisk the above ingredients. Pour over:
1 1/2 pounds chicken wings
To that add:
- 6 minced cloves of garlic
- 1 small knob finely minced (or smashed) ginger
- 2 stalks green onion, chopped
- 1 tablespoon turmeric
- 1 1/2 teaspoons five spice powder
- 1 teaspoon ground dried galangal, dried ginger, dried lemongrass, cumin seeds, coriander seeds, fennel seeds, szechuan peppercorns*
*I just happened to have an OXO grinder that I fill with such things. Lucky me.
Mix everything well. Marinade for at least 4 hours or overnight.
Fire up the charcoal grill.
Grill.
Ngoc Bún Bò Huế shares the same strip mall on the east of SE 82nd as other restaurants such as Good Taste #2, My Brother’s Crawfish, and a few others.
As the name suggests, its specialty is bún bò Huế, the delectable and spicy soup that is a specialty of Huế, a coastal city of central Vietnam. The soup is redolent of lemon grass and a savory meatiness from pork knuckles, braised beef shanks, slices of cha lua (Vietnamese bologna), and congealed cubes of pork blood. I usually forego the latter, but lately I’ve been keeping it in the serving and just eating around the blood cubes, removing them periodically throughout the meal.
The goi cuon at Ngoc are really very blah. Diminutive, bland, and a dollar more than at other Viet joints. I’d skip them.
Bún bò Huế, like many Vietnamese soups, is accompanied by a garnish platter, replete with bean sprouts, lime, herbs, chiffonades of banana blossom and iceberg lettuce (cabbage is often subbed for the latter). The garnishes at Ngoc, as you can see, are very generous.
It’s also served with a small dish of pungent fish sauce spiked with chopped bird chilies.
The soup. I generally pull out the knuckles, maybe slurping off a few choice slivers of fat and meat, and set aside so I can make good work of the soup proper. Notice the slices of delicious cha lua, which is speckled with coarse ground pepper and is made in-house.
The rice noodles used in bún bò Huế are much thicker than typical Vietnamese soups, more along the lines of a Japanese udon (though not nearly as thick).
Verdict? Ngoc Bún Bò Huế makes a fucking awesome bowl of soup. The garnishes are perfect and ample, the broth fiery and savory, the sliced beef shank meaty and tender, and the house-made cha lua is some of the best I’ve had. I’ve only had bún bò Huế further down the street on South 82nd at the restaurant similarly named “Bún Bò Huế”, and while their goi cuon is better and they do make a good bowl of soup (in addition they feature a damn good bún thit nuong), Ngoc Bún Bò Huế clearly tips the scales of deliciousness. At $7.50 — for a large — I hereby declare that a bowl of soup from Ngoc Bún Bò Huế now qualifies as an official statistical measurement (one of many, incidentally) by which I judge dining experiences from this point forward. For instance, a 3-course meal at a popular Portland restaurant…is that worth the equivalent of 51/3 bowls of bún bò Huế?
I know that’s misguided and unreasonably unfair, but like I tell my recently-turned-4-year old daughter, “I don’t make the rules, I only try to subvert them utilizing sophistic, poorly reasoned rationalizations that satisfy my own warped world view”. A bowl of soup at Ngoc is simply an agent of the free market exerting its immoderate influence.
Ngoc Bún Bò Huế
8230 SE Harrison St Ste 315
Portland, OR 97216
(503) 774-2761
The United States of cheap beer. (Salon via Angelhair@PF.org)
From Stroh’s to Shiner Bock, from Hamm’s to Hudepohl, Salon brings you an incomplete, biased guide to this great piss-beer nation.
Cokie: Hawaii Too Foreign For Obama. (TPM)
This is the sort of mind-numbingly banal observation that passes for political analysis these days. Tut-tutting over the timing of Barack Obama’s family vacation, Cokie Roberts yesterday on ABC’s This Week added that Hawaii was not an appropriate destination: too foreign and too exotic. “I know Hawaii is a state, but …” Roberts declared, while insisting Obama vacation in some place like Myrtle Beach, S.C.
Perhaps Cokie thinks the presumptive Democratic nominee should take a page from Cheney and vacation at his estate in Wyoming, where the Vice President shoots endangered fauna in between fellatio from a denture-less Lynne and bites from the live flesh of shaved toy poodles.
Good Taste has two restaurants: one in NW Chinatown (4th Ave. location pictured above) and the other located in SE Portland (82nd Ave).
Both locations feature hanging meat you can buy.
Including this roasted side of pork, with its layers of lean meat unctuously braised from the fat drippings bloomed from the deliciously crisped, salted fatty skin layer. They will ask you if you like it chopped, which will result in perfect “popcorn chicken”-like equivalents of meat crack.
Chens Good Taste Restaurant
18 NW 4th Ave, Portland
(503) 223-3838
Good Taste Noodle House
8220 SE Harrison St, Portland
(503) 788-6909
Broccoli may undo diabetes damage. (BBC)
Eating broccoli could reverse the damage caused by diabetes to heart blood vessels, research suggests.
A University of Warwick team believe the key is a compound found in the vegetable, called sulforaphane.
It encourages production of enzymes which protect the blood vessels, and a reduction in high levels of molecules which cause significant cell damage.
Brassica vegetables such as broccoli have previously been linked to a lower risk of heart attacks and strokes.
Whole Foods recalling possibly contaminated beef. (Associated Press)
Whole Foods Market is recalling fresh ground beef sold between June 2 through Aug. 6 because the beef might be contaminated with E. coli bacteria.
The company has received reports that seven people in Massachusetts and two people in Pennsylvania who shopped at Whole Foods Market became ill, said spokeswoman Libba Letton.
Letton said the company’s recalled beef was processed at the Nebraska Beef plant linked to the E. coli outbreak this summer. Federal health authorities say there have been 49 confirmed illnesses tied to that outbreak.
I’ll take it! This harkens back to when E. coli was associated only with the consumption of meat, instead of now when it could be spinach or tomatoes or jalapenos or mustard packets or napkins. The salad days.
A word of advice for you dog owners: If your dog poaches a box of commercially available mac-n-cheese and eats the entire powdered cheese packet, do not let that dog sleep in your bedroom.
Unless your idea of a good night’s sleep is having some freshly crusted hairy taint perched on your face all night.
I gotta admit, the Chinese know how to put on a good show.
Know-Nothing Politics. (Paul Krugman Editorial @NY Times)
And the debate on energy policy has helped me find the words for something I’ve been thinking about for a while. Republicans, once hailed as the “party of ideas,” have become the party of stupid.
Now, I don’t mean that G.O.P. politicians are, on average, any dumber than their Democratic counterparts. And I certainly don’t mean to question the often frightening smarts of Republican political operatives.
What I mean, instead, is that know-nothingism — the insistence that there are simple, brute-force, instant-gratification answers to every problem, and that there’s something effeminate and weak about anyone who suggests otherwise — has become the core of Republican policy and political strategy. The party’s de facto slogan has become: “Real men don’t think things through.”
Krugman does succinctly encapsulate the modern Republican movement. But he forgot one detail: they are also the party of filching, cum-sucking gutter toads like Dick Cheney, whose predilections for the Dirty Sanchez and wilted tossed salads keeps Lynne busy during the weekends.
A Year Later, a Cease-Fire in a Brooklyn Pizza War. (NY Times)
Last summer, John Miniaci Jr., a second-generation pizzamaker, learned that a Papa John’s franchise was opening — right next door to the restaurant his father started in 1968. The fans of the original Johnny — John Sr., who died shortly before the brand-name doppelgänger arrived — were aghast, circulating petitions and bemoaning the sad fate of mom-and-pop businesses in New York.
It was all for naught, since Papa John’s opened anyway, in September.
“Hey, we’re doing O.K.,” John Jr. said the other day, tending to a nonstop line of lunch customers. “We’re not in the red, that’s the main thing.”
Fans of the free market might nod approvingly at how things have gone. The unwanted competitor next door led Mr. Miniaci to make some changes that improved his business. He established a Web site (johnnyspizzeria.com) and a MySpace page, and introduced online ordering — the computer, not the standing, kind. The changes helped. Right now, he’s actually looking to hire two more workers, one for the counter and another for the kitchen.
“What can I tell you?” Mr. Miniaci said. “Life is good.”
Tom Yum
- 5 cups water
- 6 or 7 kaffir lime leaves
- 2 large stalks lemongrass, halved
- Small knob (2 inches) of galangal, sliced into sheets
- 1/2 pound of raw white shrimp, deviened and shelled with shells reserved
- 7-10 small dried shrimp
- Two tablespoons tamarind soup paste (see note)
- Juice on one lime
- 1 teaspoon shrimp paste (see note)
- 2 thinly sliced shallots
- 1 tablespoon sugar
- Fish sauce
- 1/2 pound button mushrooms, sliced
- 1 can straw mushrooms
- 1 large tomato, coarsely chopped
- 1 teaspoon sesame oil
- Few dashes chili oil
- Few stalks baby corn
- 3 thai bird chilies, finely chopped
- 1/2 bunch of cilantro, leaves coarsley chopped with stems reserved
Bring water, lime leaves, lemongrass, cilantro stems, dried shrimp, galangal, and shrimp shells to boil in stock or soup pot. Add raw shrimp. Cook shrimp meat for 45 seconds or so, shock very briefly in ice bath, remove with slotted spoon or chopsticks and set aside.
Simmer stock for at least 30 minutes. Drain, return to pot, including a stalk of lemongrass and lime leaves, add lime juice, shrimp paste, tamarind soup paste, sugar, shallots and bring back to a boil.
Note: here are two types tamarind and shrimp pastes that I have used in the past.
Simmer and stir for a few minutes, adding more sugar and dashes of fish sauce to suit your tastes.
Add mushrooms, bird chilies, oil, corn, and tomato. Bring back to a boil. Lower and simmer for 10 minutes. Remove from heat, garnish with chopped cilantro and squeeze of fresh lime. Allow to rest for 10-20 minutes.
Serve, garnishing with shrimp. I also like to add a tablespoon or more of steamed jasmine rice, and a fresh dash of fish sauce.
From Binh Minh.
Binh Minh Bakery & Deli
6812 NE Broadway St
Portland, OR
(503) 257-3868
Whole Foods Looks for a Fresh Image in Lean Times. (NY Times)
Whole Foods Market is on a mission to revise its gold-plated image as consumers pull back on discretionary spending in a troubled economy. The company was once a Wall Street darling, but its sales growth was cooling even before the economy turned. Since peaking at the beginning of 2006, its stock has dropped more than 70 percent.
Now, in a sign of the times, the company is offering deeper discounts, adding lower-priced store brands and emphasizing value in its advertising. It is even inviting customers to show up for budget-focused store tours like those led by Mr. Hebb, a Whole Foods employee.
Too Fit to Be President (Wall Street Journal)
But in a nation in which 66% of the voting-age population is overweight and 32% is obese, could Sen. Obama’s skinniness be a liability? Despite his visits to waffle houses, ice-cream parlors and greasy-spoon diners around the country, his slim physique just might have some Americans wondering whether he is truly like them.
The candidate has been criticized by opponents for appearing elitist or out of touch with average Americans. A Wall Street Journal/NBC News poll conducted in July shows Sen. Obama still lags behind Republican John McCain among white men and suburban women who say they can’t relate to his background or perceived values.
“He’s too new … and he needs to put some meat on his bones,” says Diana Koenig, 42, a housewife in Corpus Christi, Texas, who says she voted for Sen. Hillary Clinton in the Democratic primary.
“I won’t vote for any beanpole guy,” another Clinton supporter wrote last week on a Yahoo politics message board.
The inanity, it burns. It burns brighter and hotter than Dick Cheney’s micturated golden shower, which has singed Lynne’s cheek on many occasions.
A NOTE FROM THE EDITOR: Every politically categorized post for the remainder of the current administration will bear some passing reference to Dick Cheney and the fucking of billy goats or the sucking of a warted, flaccid cock or some variation therein, if only to enumerate the amount of entries in the category “Fuck You Dick Cheney”. The software architects at WordPress I am sure will be proud that their efforts to gift the end user such taxonomic prowess have become so transformative.
Council bans new fast-food outlets in South L.A. (LA times)
A law that would bar fast-food restaurants from opening in South Los Angeles for at least a year sailed through the Los Angeles City Council on Tuesday.
The council approved the fast-food moratorium unanimously, despite complaints from representatives of McDonald’s, Carl’s Jr. and other companies, who said they were being unfairly targeted.
Councilwoman Jan Perry, who has pushed for a moratorium for six years, said the initiative would give the city time to craft measures to lure sit-down restaurants serving healthier food to a part of the city that desperately wants more of them.
“I believe this is a victory for the people of South and southeast Los Angeles, for them to have greater food options,” she said.
The ban covers a 32-square-mile area for one year, with two possible six-month extensions.
With the City Council coming down hard on taco trucks, is there anything you can eat in L.A. anymore?
And what exactly is classified as “fast food”? What sort of alternative dining options are they trying to promote, and what plans do they have in this regard?
When I first visited little Manzanita, on the Oregon coast, some six years ago it was pretty no-frills. It seemed like the only place to get something to eat was at the Sand Dune Pub or a small bistro that is now defunct. Nowadays there’s much more options – two pizza places (one, Marzanos, has a nice hot oven and churns out a suprisingly good—albeit pricey—pie), a Mexican restaurant, 3 markets (including a natural foods/homeopathy type store), a seafood restaurant, donut shop, a bakery/deli, and a coffeehouse, in addition to the aforementioned Sand Dune Pub (which makes a decent burger using Montana country beef…and has tater tots) and an upscale (for beach standards) restaurant just off the 101.
We had a house just steps from the beach, but more importantly, steps from this Chicago hot dog stand.
The gentleman and his lovely wife owned the house behind where he sets up shop for an 11:30 am opening each day.
He uses Vienna Beef, so it’s the genuine article.
With all the fixings to “drag your dog through the garden”, including tomatoes, the toxic-green relish, sport peppers, celery salt, etc.
He even obliged my request for extra sport peppers. God I love those things. Great dogs, I ate here three consecutive mornings.
Just up the main drag of Laneda is the Bread and Ocean, a wonderfully charming little bakery and deli.
Bread and Ocean is staffed with young whippersnappers during the summer, who crank The Strokes in the kitchen and on sunny days seem always itching to split shift and catch some rays in the sand.
In addition to a small handful of indoor tables, they have a small patio off to the side.
The menu board.
The pressed, toasted panini featured creamy brie, roasted onions, arugula, and a wonderful serrano ham — nice touches for beach food.
They do a good job with baked goods here, as I thoroughly enjoyed this orange & almond poppyseed roll. They feature daily specials, including — on Fridays — their refined sugar-free, whole wheat cinnamon rolls (suprisingly good) and a pain au chocalate with dried cherries that we brought back with us to Portland.
Manzanita, Oregon
Oregon
USA
As it so often happens while on the Internet, something triggered a long lost memory in the back recesses of my mind, and I performed an impromptu search for somebody I went to high school with—briefly—in Ankara, Turkey, some 21 years ago.
I didn’t find that person, but I stumbled upon the guestbook for my old high school. Email links were paired by the names of each classmate who wished to allow long-lost connections to contact them, save one. Instead, the link was titled “In Memoriam” and led to an obituary in the Ft. Worth-Star Telegram, whereupon I learned a woman—who I knew in passing during high school—had just last fall lost a five-year battle with breast cancer.
It made me suddenly very, very sad. I’m going to try to not look at the stars tonight.
Injured vets tell pull Dick Cheney invitation over security demands. (NY Daily News)
When Cheney spoke to the group in 2004, his handlers imposed the same stringent security lockdown, upsetting members, officials said.
Many of the vets are elderly and left pieces of themselves on foreign battlefields since World War II, and others were crippled by recent service in Iraq and Afghanistan. For health reasons, many can’t be stuck in a room for hours.
“It was a huge imposition on our delegates,” added David Autry, another Disabled American Veterans official.
Autry said vets would’ve had to get up “at Oh-dark-30 and try to get breakfast and showered and get their prosthetics on.”
Once inside, they “could not leave the meeting room, and the bathrooms are outside,” he said.
City and State Brace for Drop in Wall Street Pay. (NY Times)
A review of the latest statements from the largest financial companies based in the city shows that they intend to hand out about $18 billion less in pay and benefits in 2008 than in 2007. The cutting of payrolls is well under way, but the full effect will not be felt until the year’s end, when bonuses for employees based in New York could shrink by $10 billion or more, according to city officials and compensation experts.
…
“One of the things that highly compensated people do is they spend money,” Mr. Bleiwas said. “So when Wall Street suffers, the pain ripples through the rest of the economy.”The impending decrease in the personal income of so many New York-area residents, Mr. Bleiwas said, “is a significant reduction which will affect not only state and city coffers but also have a direct impact on other sectors.” He said the jobs on Wall Street pay so well that on average, each one spawns two jobs in other fields in the city and a third in the surrounding region.
California becomes first state to ban trans fats. (IHT)
Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger of California signed a bill banning trans fats in restaurant food, making California the first U.S. state to ban the use of the cooking oils linked to artery-clogging cholesterol.
The new law, modeled after a ban implemented in New York City, prohibits the use of partially hydrogenated oils, which contain trans fats, by the state’s 87,000 restaurants beginning in 2010 and in all baked goods sold in the state starting in 2011.
Now if they could only also ban Jingle All the Way.
AP: Food industry bitten by its lobbying success (AP/Yahoo! News)
One of the worst outbreaks of foodborne illness in the U.S. is teaching the food industry the truth of the adage, “Be careful what you wish for because you might get it.”
The industry pressured the Bush administration years ago to limit the paperwork companies would have to keep to help U.S. health investigators quickly trace produce that sickens consumers, according to interviews and government reports reviewed by The Associated Press.
The White House also killed a plan to require the industry to maintain electronic tracking records that could be reviewed easily during a crisis to search for an outbreak’s source. Companies complained the proposals were too burdensome and costly, and warned they could disrupt the availability of consumers’ favorite foods.
The apparent but unintended consequences of the lobbying success: a paper record-keeping system that has slowed investigators, with estimated business losses of $250 million. So far, nearly 1,300 people in 43 states, the District of Columbia and Canada have been sickened by salmonella since April.
@Toro Bravo. With peas and potatoes. Delicious. Followed up by the excellent spicy octopus and prawn stew, paired with an ice cold lager. Summer.
The Jesus and Fucking Mary Chain. Tonight at the Wonder Ballroom. Fuckin’ eh.
Rush is playing “Tom Sawyer” on the Colbert Report right now, and I have to sheepishly admit…they are friggin’ RULING.
In Paris, Burgers Turn Chic . (NY Times)
Beginning a few years ago but picking up momentum in the past nine months, hamburgers and cheeseburgers have invaded the city. Anywhere tourists are likely to go this summer — in St.-Germain cafes, in fashion-world hangouts, even in restaurants run by three-star chefs — they are likely to find a juicy beef patty, almost invariably on a sesame seed bun.
“It has the taste of the forbidden, the illicit — the subversive, even,” said Hélène Samuel, a restaurant consultant here. “Eating with your hands, it’s pure regression. Naturally, everyone wants it.”
I love how the crowd (presumably a majority of whom are New York Yankee fans) are jeering their own team’s pitchers, especially when they give up a walk, or a sacrifice-scoring fly ball. Yes, these pitchers are ostensibly from other teams throughout your league. But this is an expedition, and at the very least you’re fighting for home court advantage. Classy.
Men’s Health blesses the fried pig skin–booze–jerky–sour cream–coconut–chocolate hexagonal snack cadre. I usually eat all of those, in one dish. For breakfast.
Wholesale prices soar in June; Sales are sluggish. (CNBC.com)
The economy showed the depth of its twin problems on Tuesday, slow growth and rising inflation, as the nation wrestled with a teetering financial system, a slumping dollar and rising prices for food and fuel.
The Labor Department reported that soaring costs for gasoline and food pushed inflation at the wholesale level up by a bigger-than-expected 1.8 percent in June, leaving inflation rising over the past year at the fastest pace in more than a quarter-century.
Over the past 12 months, wholesale prices are up 9.2 percent, the largest year-over-year surge since June 1981, another period when soaring energy costs were giving the country inflation pains.
Even the skin is really good.
Anheuser-Busch Agrees to Be Sold to InBev. (NY Times)
A million jingoistic heads explode in unison.
Blue cheese-thyme burgers (New Seasons) on Grand Central rustic bun.
And thus, fuck off iPhone.
And BTW, send that bill for that $175 early cancellation penalty fee straight to a collection agency. I’m positive when I have to get another 30-year mortgage in 6-7 years, it will be an albatross around my neck.
A university professor in Minnesota posts on his private blog some thoughts about faux outrage when some guy smuggled a cracker out of church, and it invokes over 3000 comments, dozens of death threats, and demands of retribution from the Catholic League.
I wish I were making this up.
Now, if some guy was smuggling tenderloin out of a churrascaria, I could see somebody getting a bit uppity, but we’re talking about a cracker. Cracker.
Of all the macaronis, elbow is the most erstwhile.
McDonald’s Makes Jesus Cry. (Chris Kelly @Huffington Post)
What did McDonald’s do to cross the AFA, its president, Donald Wildmon, and — by extension — Jesus (R-Nz.)? They donated $20,000 to the National Gay and Lesbian Chamber of Commerce. McDonald’s’ revenue runs about five billion dollars a quarter, so you can see their profound commitment to destroying the family through sodomy.
The AFA says that by donating one thousandth of one percent of its 2007 earnings,
“McDonald’s has chosen not to remain neutral but to give the full weight of their corporation to promoting the homosexual agenda.”
Which seems like a kind of shrill definition of “full weight,” but maybe it’s like the Quarter Pounder®, and it’s the weight before cooking that counts.
It feels a little like the American Family Association was looking for someone to boycott and it was just McDonald’s’ turn. They’ve already boycotted Sears, Kohl’s, Kmart, Target, Old Navy and IKEA. As a result, they’re naked and don’t have anywhere to sit. The McDonald’s boycott follows boycotts of Burger King, Carl’s Jr., 7-11, Proctor & Gamble and Kraft, which means Donald Wildmon hasn’t eaten anything for sale in America since the late ’70s. You’d think he’d be dead, but no.
Menu from recent G8 summit in Japan where world leaders discussed what to do about the recent world food crisis.
Taqueria La Estacion is located on Killingsworth in Northeast Portland, just south of where the street joins with Lombard to create the confluence that is the Gartner Meat Market Frontage Road Express Throughway.
It hilariously occupies what appears to formerly be a British-themed snackbar/pub/lair.
As you can see, Estacion has some unique Mexican specialties other than tacos that immediately distinguishes it from other taquerias. But this is a post in the Taco Survey, so those items will have wait for another post.
The taco triumvarite. I subbed chicken for carnitas, as the menu did not offer the latter. On this day I added an extra pastor. That tortillas here are commercial.
The pastor. Very good.
The asada. I bit gristly and lesser than as-crisp-as-I-like in pieces.
The chicken. The weakest of the bunch, but chicken tacos are usually the Stephen Baldwin of any taqueria family.
A fully dressed taco.
The garnish bar…
…which features bright and vibrant red and green sauces…
and includes a spicy, orangish habanero sauce (fiery) and a chunky table sauce (on the right). This particular salsa was quite unique, in that it uncannily tasted almost exactly like Herdez’s canned Salsa Casera. I’m not saying it was the brand stuff — the texture was different as this was nice and fresh — but the taste similarity was remarkable.
If you ever find your way on the back road to the airport, or if you are a pervert and like to frequent the underage strip club next door, stopping by Estacion for food is a perfectly fine decision. I’ve heard good things about other items on their menu which I have yet to sample. Interestly enough, there’s a taco truck in the parking lot (a hundred yards away) that shares the same name as the taqueria (“La Estacion Express #2”) yet holds different hours (it was closed when I visited). I suppose it’s a niche adjunct to the restaurant proper. If not, it stands as the most brazen example of copyright infringment in history of American taquerias.
La Estacion Express
Just south of NE Lombard/NE Portland Highway. The entrance is on NE Killingsworth, just west of NE Cully. There’s no listing for phone, address, etc., so you’ll just have to check it out for yourself, you lazy fucker.
Salmonella signs point to peppers. (Baltimore Sun)
Investigators are seeing more signs that the salmonella outbreak blamed on tomatoes might have been caused by tainted jalapeno peppers and have begun collecting samples from restaurants and from the homes of those who have been sickened, according to health officials involved in the probe.
Some coffee fans get grim delight in Starbucks woes. (Reuters)
Financial woes at Starbucks Corp., which is planning to close 600 underperforming U.S. stores, is evoking glee and little sympathy from aficionados who say they resent the coffee shop giant and favor small independent cafes.
“I’m so happy. I’m so not a Starbucks person,” said Melinda Vigliotti, sipping iced coffee at the Irving Farm Coffee House in New York. “I believe in supporting small businesses. Starbucks, bye-bye.”
“Amen,” chimed in Keith DiLauro, a local caterer. “They went too big, too fast.”
Seattle-based Starbucks burst onto the national scene in the 1990s and grew to more than 6,000 locations around the world. But with cups of coffee that can cost several dollars, it faces a slowing economy and slowed consumer spending.
Jesse Helms died yesterday.
He was representative of the virulent racism, homophobia, and hypocritical mendaciousness that’s all too common in politicians and the American body politic. It is only fitting that he died on Independence Day, as he serves to remind us of a part of ourselves (as a nation) and of the ugly caricature that we may yet shed.
While the American media and fellow politicians go into full hagiography mode, out of respect for the dead, naturally, let’s not whitewash what this man really was. So leave it up to a British publication to really get his obit right.
Secret report: biofuel caused food crisis. (The Guardian)
Biofuels have forced global food prices up by 75% – far more than previously estimated – according to a confidential World Bank report obtained by the Guardian.
The damning unpublished assessment is based on the most detailed analysis of the crisis so far, carried out by an internationally-respected economist at global financial body.
The figure emphatically contradicts the US government’s claims that plant-derived fuels contribute less than 3% to food-price rises. It will add to pressure on governments in Washington and across Europe, which have turned to plant-derived fuels to reduce emissions of greenhouse gases and reduce their dependence on imported oil.
Senior development sources believe the report, completed in April, has not been published to avoid embarrassing President George Bush.
I frequently troll and make an ass out of myself at Portlandfood.org, but other than that it really is a boon for the Portland food community. ExtraMSG has paid for the hosting and has performed the legwork to make it the definitive Portland food resource for the last 4+ years.
From a recent post:
I am currently moving the site to new servers. During the next week, the site may be down intermittently or even slower than it has been lately as I back up numerous domains that I have hosted on the server. I will try to move Portlandfood.org sooner than most other domains, but it’s one of the most difficult sites to move and I want to make sure it is working properly before I finish the migration. Bear with me. Things will get better.
Some of you have offered to send me money or whatever to help. No need. If you want to help me out or give me some sort of remuneration, buy dinner at Kenny & Zuke’s. Introduce a new friend. Have your office cater. That will do much more for me than sending $20, $50, or $100 to me personally and you’ll get a full belly in return. Thank you, though.
-Nick aka Extramsg aka Zuke
Speaking as someone who has offered help, I therefore command you to visit Kenny & Zuke’s, where many delicious foodstuffs (amongst which includes the finest smoked pastrami this side of the Willamette River…hell, the Snake River) and a varied array of refreshing beverages are available for purchase, right in the heart of beautiful downtown Portland, just seconds away from our fine burg’s “meatpacking” district, located near ground zero of the incredibly stylish and well-coifed Ace Hotel.
I’m currently watching “All About Dung” on The History Channel, which is a fascinating look at the history of human excrement.
Join host Monty Halls as he investigates the historical, medical, scientific and evolutionary importance of poop on an excremental safari guaranteed to fascinate even the most squeamish of viewers. You’ll be surprised by the amazing manner in which the world puts dung to use. Discover that through a 14,000-year-old human dung deposit it has been determined that humans inhabited North America 1300 years earlier than previously thought. Climb a 100-foot mountain of bat guano in Borneo that is teeming with insect life. Travel to India and view housewarming rituals using sacred cow dung as good luck. Finally Halls drinks coffee made from poop and investigates, through their large droppings, why mammoths might have disappeared.
I learned that Calcutta, India, has one of the world’s most advanced and “green” systems for dealing with its overwhelming supply of human shit, producing the base fodder from which an abundance of crops and fish are harvested. Dung is truly the heart of recycling, fully exemplified by enterprising Calcutta natives who, using cow poop, repurpose batteries to provide power yet again to the same battery. In Africa, elephant crap is being used to make paper. And here we are, in America, separating glass and newspaper once a week in logo adorned plastic bins. (To our credit, we do recycle our celebrities in cable reality shows).
Did you know if you could harness all of human excrement for energy purposes, you could satisfy 10-20% of the world energy needs? Did I just BLOW YOUR MIND?!? As a case in point, the host of the show took us underground to the London sewage system, where filtered sewage sludge was being fed into a turbine, where it is incinerated and turned into energy.
The engineer who oversaw London’s sewage-to-fuel efforts took the program’s host into the heart of the operation, and pulled out a cylindrical cross-section of the solid waste. Amongst the thick, dark, murky sludge, there was a single, solitary kernel of sweet corn.
A gay guy in California has now been married for a week and is presumably very happy. My kid still hates me and my wife is still telling me to take out the trash AND mow the lawn.
McCain could have a conflict brewing. (LA Times)
Hensley & Co., one of the nation’s major beer wholesalers, has brought the family of Cindy McCain wealth, prestige and influence in Phoenix, but it could also create conflicts for her husband, Sen. John McCain, if he is elected president in November.
Hensley, founded by Cindy McCain’s late father, holds federal and state licenses to distribute beer and lobbies regulatory agencies on alcohol issues that involve public health and safety.
The company has opposed such groups as Mothers Against Drunk Driving in fighting proposed federal rules requiring alcohol content information on every package of beer, wine and liquor
Its executives, including John McCain’s son Andrew, have written at least 10 letters in recent years to the Treasury Department, have contributed tens of thousands of dollars to a beer industry political action committee, and hold a seat on the board of the politically powerful National Beer Wholesalers Assn.
Shit. Piss. Fuck. Cunt. Cocksucker. Motherfucker. Tits.
Hate Groups’ Newest Target. (Washington Post)
“I haven’t seen this much anger in a long, long time,” said Billy Roper, a 36-year-old who runs a group called White Revolution in Russellville, Ark. “Nothing has awakened normally complacent white Americans more than the prospect of America having an overtly nonwhite president.”
…
“What you try not to think about is that maybe if Obama wins, it will create a very demoralizing effect,” Doggett said. “Maybe people see him in office, and it’s like: ‘That’s it. It’s just too late. Look at what’s happened now. We’ve endured all these defeats, and we’ve still got a multicultural society.’ And then there’s just no future for our viewpoint.”
Often lost in the excitment that is the Whisky Soda Lounge,
…it’s easy to overlook the shack that started it all is still consistently churning out earnest and tasty thai grub. The patio tables are now reserved for the restaurant proper, so this is a grab and go affair.
This is the menu. All of it.
Pok Pok always features a daily special with MAMA brand instant noodles, and it’s served with meat from their delicious game hens. I love them for this “proletariat” handshake.
Papaya pok pok ($8.00).
1/2 a roast game hen ($6.50). Two dipping sauces, including a sweet and sour chili sauce and a darker, tamarind flavored soy.
pok pok
address: 3226 se division, pdx
telephone: 503 232 1387
pokpokpdx.com
US Airways to charge $2 for soda, juice, water. (Yahoo)
Alcoholic drinks will also go from $5 to $7.
Yes, We Will Have No Bananas. (NY Times)
ONCE you become accustomed to gas at $4 a gallon, brace yourself for the next shocking retail threshold: bananas reaching $1 a pound. At that price, Americans may stop thinking of bananas as a cheap staple, and then a strategy that has served the big banana companies for more than a century — enabling them to turn an exotic, tropical fruit into an everyday favorite — will begin to unravel.
I’m not a breakfast cereal for breakfast person. And, I’m not a dessert person, either. In fact, I tend to eat breakfast cereal for dessert.
So I found this stuff in bulk at Winco Foods last week: chocolate granola.
I am complete.
Toro Bravo is located on NE Russell, just west of MLK.
Toasted chick peas grace your table as soon as you’re seated.
Manchego and Paprika Fritters with spicy salsa roja.
Seared Scallops with romesco.
Griddled Bacon Wrapped Dates with warm honey.
Spicy Octopus and Prawn Stew.
House Smoked Coppa Steak with olive oil poached potatoes chopped olives and salbitxada.
Lamb Braised with Apricots & Coriander with homemade egg noodles.
There’s a reason why Toro Bravo is the best tapas restaurant in Portland, if not one of our fine city’s finest eateries.
Toro Bravo
120 NE Russell Street
Portland, OR 97212
503.281.4464
www.torobravopdx.com
A lesbian in California can now get visitation rights to see her partner of 40 years if she happens to fall into a coma in the ICU, and my wife is still telling me to take out the trash.
Americans drive 1.4 billion fewer highway miles. (CNN)
Americans drove 1.4 billion fewer highway miles in April than they did in April 2007, the Department of Transportation said Wednesday.
Americans have driven 20 billion fewer miles overall this year, the Transportation Department says.
That marks the sixth consecutive monthly drop and coincides with record gas prices and an increase in transit ridership, Transportation Secretary Mary Peters said.
April’s drop is more than three times larger than the drop from March 2007 to March of this year, which was 400 million fewer highway miles.
Teh Gay have been marrying now for a couple days. My wife is still telling me to take out the trash.
Christ, Lara Logan is hot.
While on a late-night grocery run, after watching the Lakers lay a brick in Game 6 against the Boston Celtics, I got that cheap, tawdry urge that can only be sated by fast food or paying a hermaphrodite for sex. However, I am a weird person in that I need tomatoes on my fast food. In fact, I always tend to ask for extra tomatoes.
I first stopped by Burger King, as I read some news release that BK had returned tomatoes to their menu items, including their popular Whopper™ sandwich. However, the lady behind the counter took an almost exculpatory glee in denying my tomato request, as they indeed did not have tomatoes in the kitchen.
Next was McDonald’s, with the same negative result. Arby’s had their disclaimer plastered on the door of the restaurant, so I didn’t even have to go in.
Taco Bell, however, had tomatoes.
So there you go. Taco Bell, I may not again grace your sterile environs for some time, but don’t take it personally, as I have a newfound respect for you. Yes, your ground meat appears to have been extracted from an industrial barrel-sized can, and close to 43% of the ingredients of your 7-Layer Burrito may not actually exist in any natural state, but when I look back on the Spring of 2008, the Season of the Great Tomato Scare, of $4/gas, of the epochal $5 Submarine Sandwich War, I will always think fondly of Taco Bell, my very own transgender hooker.
Hae Rim is a Korean restaurant in Beaverton, just west of the 217.
The BiBimBob section of the menu.
The best part of a Korean meal is all the side dishes you get. It must really suck to be a dishwasher at a Korean restaurant.
The standard BiBimBob.
The banchan parade.
The BiBimBob at Hae Rim isn’t a transcendental experience, but it’s solid comfort food. $8.95.
The meal is capped off with this cold, sweet barley tea, which may sound odd.
But not as odd as this. Perhaps it’s because of Tony Brinkley, Moonies, and the Washington Times, but I find this Korean religious propoganda extremely creepy.
Hae Rim
11729 SW Beaverton-Hillsdale Hwy,
Beaverton, OR
Phone: (503) 671-9725
Apparently, the Associated Press now charges for any excerpt (fair use conventions notwithstanding) for nesting more than four words of their original content in a <blockquote> tag (and linking to them, even).
If the AP wants to do a story on the “blogosphere” reaction to their fantastic new policy, and wishes to quote this blog (not that they would, but just in case), I’ll provide a redacted nugget that they can lift gratis:
“AP: Suck my left ****”
Via TPM, notice the similarities between Cookie McCain’s cookie recipe and Hershey’s.
Corn Jumps to Record as Floods in Midwest Threaten U.S. Crops. (Bloomberg)
Corn soared to a record in Chicago, extending its rally to a ninth straight session, as floods in the Midwest threatened production in the U.S., the world’s largest producer and exporter. Soybeans rose to a three-month high.
“The U.S. Midwest, including the flood-ravaged mid- Mississippi Valley, will be pounded by another round of severe weather through tonight, private forecaster Accuweather.com said on its Web site yesterday. “Heavy downpours caused by the thunderstorms threaten to aggravate existing flooding or cause new flash flooding problems.”
We all know the evils of alcohol. I won’t bore you with the nasty details, but it bears mentioning the potential dangers of cooking and drinking. The former acts like a congener for the latter, in my experience.
Witness a recent conversation in our household:
Wife: Honey, can you bring up the vacuum and clean the cat litter?
Me (on the couch): (Mumbles something non-committal)
Wife: Hey! Last night you said you would help me today with any house chores and you wouldn’t complain, and then you hugged me and gave me a kiss and told me you loved me!
[Long pause]
Me: That doesn’t sound like something I’d say.
Lawmakers subpoena 9 food testing companies. (MSNBC)
Lawmakers voted Thursday to subpoena nine companies responsible for analyzing the most dangerous food entering the country as part of an investigation that gained more urgency with an outbreak of salmonella from tomatoes.
…
Stupak said nine of 10 companies declined to submit information voluntarily out of concern that the food import companies that hire them would then sue them for breaching confidentiality agreements. The records sought related to testing of food found not to meet FDA standards for import into the U.S.
Another “free” market success story.
Fat Profits. (Portfolio)
The uniqueness isn’t the only thing that’s hard to get your head around. During the past few years, CKE Restaurants, the parent company of Carl’s Jr. and Hardee’s, has employed an audacious go-for-bloat approach that defies just about everything you’ve come to assume about the business of modern fast food. (See nutrition data for CKE franchises and other fast-food chains.) In an age when other chains have been forced to at least pretend that they care about the health of their customers and have started offering packets of apples and things sprinkled with walnuts and yogurt, Hardee’s and Carl’s Jr. are purposely running in the opposite direction, unapologetically creating an arsenal of higher-priced, high-fat, high-calorie monstrosities—pioneering avant-garde concepts such as “meat as a condiment” and “fast-food porn”—and putting the message out to increasingly receptive consumers with ads that are often as controversial as the burgers themselves.
Today for lunch I had a roast turkey sandwich with sliced tomatoes from a round fruit that to my knowledge was not vine-ripened and did not hail from California, Tennessee, Israel, or the Netherlands. I used half of the tomato, and chopped the rest for an afternoon-snack salad.
I’m monitoring the situation and I’ll post to this blog tomorrow if I die.
Some time ago I had an ahi appetizer at Saucebox, a local restaurant and bar in downtown Portland. The tuna was coated with furikake and seared over high heat, creating an interesting texture that I rather enjoyed. The app was accompanied with a creamy sauce that I don’t quite remember (possibly a kewpie base with chili sauce) — it was certainly fine, but I generally prefer lighter dressing for my fish.
As it was $14 for about 2 ounces of fish (if that), I decided to replicate it at home using an ahi filet from the local sashimi-grade fishmongerer.
Furikake Ahi
1. Furikake. From Wikipedia:
Furikake (振り掛け or ふりかけ) is any dry Japanese condiment meant to be sprinkled on top of rice. It typically consists of a mixture of dried and ground fish, sesame seeds, chopped seaweed, sugar, salt, and monosodium glutamate. Other flavorful ingredients such as katsuobushi (sometimes indicated on the package as bonito), salmon, shiso, egg, vegetables, etc. are often added to the mix.
Uwajimaya carries a few brands, some with more than half a dozen varietals that are all variation upon a theme.
2. Shichimi-Togarashi
Japanese red pepper blend. I had a friend in high school/college who worked in her Mom’s sushi restaurant (she’d open the place to us after hours), and she swore to me that marijuana seeds were an integral component to togarashi. Seeing as we were eating drunkenly-rolled maki (“Go back there,” she would say, gesturing to the sushi bar, “and help yourself”), swilling Kirins and cutting into her mom’s profit margins, I was inclined to believe her.
3. Salt.
Use your judgement and create a thin coating layer on a plate or cutting board.
Coat the flesh with a nice layer of furikake and seasonings. Heat a stainless steel pan over high heat until smoking, add a bit of peanut oil (should smoke immediately). Sear ahi one minute per side.
Remove from plate.
Slice, and top with your favorite sauce, which for me is ponzu.
Ponzu
- 1/4 cup mirin
- 1/8 cup rice vinegar
- 3 tablespoons soy sauce
- Pinch of bonito flakes
- Juice of one lemon
- Lemon zest
Combine everything, bring to a boil. Remove from heat and strain.
Hmart, a Korean supermarket chain, opened just a few days ago in Tigard, on the 99W a couple miles south of the 217.
I made it there for opening day, and it was swamped with swaths of overzealous consumers engaged simultaneously in a mad power grab. Here’s what I had to say at Portlandfood.org:
“I showed up at noon. Absolutely insane. Wall-to-wall bodies. I would say a good portion of the entire Portland metro area Korean community was here. The checkout lines were 30 carts deep. After 40 minutes I felt a panic attack coming on and needed a dozen Xanax and a defibrillator.
The store? Amazing. Larger than Uwajimaya, and outside of, say, pre-packaged sashimi and sashimi grade seafood, a better selection of most everything. About the size of Fubonn, and their produce section is twice as large. There’s a fair amount of traditional American supermarket goods, as well, so it’s a one-stop shopping option. Bulk banchan by the pound – about a dozen varieties, and much more in pre-packaged containers by the Korean food counter.
A Chinese food counter, a bakery, a sushi counter, a Korean food counter (bi bimi bap for $5.50). There’s a very large language barrier happening here, and after attempting to order some spicy tofu stew for a couple minutes (the Korean food counter is very confusing) I figured I’d come back in a couple weeks once things die down.”
NFL great and world class narcissist Deion Sanders is currently a guest on Paula Deen’s Party on the Food Network. Prime Time is making an oyster stew with his lovely wife, Pilar. Prime Time stole 56 bases in 115 games for the Cincinnati Reds in 1997.
He followed some country singer who made a stuffed beef tenderloin roast with Paula. She compelled him to “beat his meat”, an act which he claimed reminded him of “eighth grade.” She then brought up the curious fact that the country singer in question sang at Anna Nicole Smith’s funeral. He sang “Wings of a Dove.”
They then went to commercial.
I was in the Bay Area recently, and hit Ramen Halu.
Before leaving North Beach that morning, I did a search for the best ramen in South Bay. Your usual suspects came up, mostly in San Jose and San Mateo, with a couple in Mountain View. However, one blogger whose name I don’t remember and whose blog address I forget said Hula in San Jose was the best, and that was good enough for me. Later when we were at the establishment, a framed article by Melanie Wong in the San Jose Mercury proclaimed Halu #1 in the in the Top 10 ramen restaurants in the South Bay Area, so my instincts in this instance proved correct.
An hour later and a few failed opportunities for carbon offsets later, we were in San Jose, right off the I-280 freeway.
Across the street was a fitting visage for our times.
Halu opens for lunch at 11:30 AM sharp. At 11:15, there was already a line.
The Indian market next door advertised what appeared to be the Bollywood version of One Crazy Summer.
The menu features pre-configured specialties.
And also an a la carte itemization for a pimp-it-yourself ramen experience and a most excellent drink menu.
We started with this delightful okara salad. The texture was like a thick farmer’s cheese. Very refreshing.
Shio ramen. A light broth, thin noodles. Pretty straightforward, but decent (if a bit perfunctory).
The special house Ramen Halu. Thick noodles, bold, strong, assertive broth that was a veritable salt bomb. The pork was meaty, yet tender.
The broth literally had chunks of pork fat floating in it. So unctuous.
The noodles were thicker than most ramen I’ve had, and I loved them. This was a good damn bowl of soup.
In the back of the house, I saw them breaking out the crack torch for each bowl of HALU ramen that left the kitchen. My theory is that they put chunks of pork fat on top of freshly ladled bowls of ramen and melted the fat into the soup.
After I snapped the photo, this proprietoress gave me a slightly askew look. At the time I wondered perhaps she thought I was stealing trade secrets, but she probably was thinking I was a pervert for scoping her rack.
If you’re in San Jose by a freeway, I suggest you get some ramen.
Ramen Halu
375 South Saratoga Ave
San Jose, 95129
408.246.3933
Website
Man, which campaign operative had the great idea to have McCain speak an hour before Obama’s nomination clinching speech? That guy should be forced to carry Cookie McCain’s Gucci handbags the rest of the general election.
It was like watching a tree stump speak in front of a drunken Young Americans for Freedom convention. Contrasted side-by-side with Obama’s overall tone, the difference couldn’t be more stark. Like otoro and a fucking fried baloney sandwich.
The perfectly healthy 15-year-old girl who has eaten nothing but chips for 10 years. (Mail Online)
A girl of 15 has eaten almost nothing but CHIPS for the past 10 years.
Faye Campbell, of Stowmarket, Suffolk, has lived on chipped potatoes and refused to eat nearly anything else since she was a tot.
The Stowmarket High School pupil has a bizarre physical condition which made her ill every time she tried anything other than chips.
Hervé This: Salt doesn’t dissolve in oil, silly. (Globe and Mail)
The term “molecular gastronomy” is now associated with chefs like Ferran Adria, but you disagree with that usage. Why?
They are doing molecular cooking. The truth is that molecular gastronomy is science, molecular cooking is cooking, and chefs are not scientists.
…
You have assembled a list of 10 fundamental pieces of knowledge for cooks. It includes unexpected items like salt dissolves into water and salt does not dissolve into oil.
You see how silly it seems? It’s not obvious. Imagine that you take a glass of oil, you put some salt, even after one century the oil will not be salted. This, according to Pierre Gagnaire, is my main discovery.
A Tiny Fruit That Tricks the Tongue. (NY Times)
They were among 40 or so people who were tasting under the influence of a small red berry called miracle fruit at a rooftop party in Long Island City, Queens, last Friday night. The berry rewires the way the palate perceives sour flavors for an hour or so, rendering lemons as sweet as candy.
The host was Franz Aliquo, 32, a lawyer who styles himself Supreme Commander (Supreme for short) when he’s presiding over what he calls “flavor tripping parties.” Mr. Aliquo greeted new arrivals and took their $15 entrance fees. In return, he handed each one a single berry from his jacket pocket.
“You pop it in your mouth and scrape the pulp off the seed, swirl it around and hold it in your mouth for about a minute,” he said. “Then you’re ready to go.” He ushered his guests to a table piled with citrus wedges, cheeses, Brussels sprouts, mustard, vinegars, pickles, dark beers, strawberries and cheap tequila, which Mr. Aliquo promised would now taste like top-shelf Patrón.
The miracle fruit, Synsepalum dulcificum, is native to West Africa and has been known to Westerners since the 18th century. The cause of the reaction is a protein called miraculin, which binds with the taste buds and acts as a sweetness inducer when it comes in contact with acids, according to a scientist who has studied the fruit, Linda Bartoshuk at the University of Florida’s Center for Smell and Taste. Dr. Bartoshuk said she did not know of any dangers associated with eating miracle fruit.
I don’t know what the big deal is. I’ve been using this for years, whenever I’m about to toss somebody’s salad.
Meat
- 1 amount of Meat (pork shoulder strips, beef strips, chicken, but in long, thin strips)
- Many stalks of lemon grass, trimmed on both ends, out leaves peeled, and minced like a muthafuck
- 1 knob of galangal, peeled, julienned finely and pounded in a mortar
- 1 small knob of ginger, peeled, julienned, and pounded in a mortar
- Many cloves of garlic, peeled, and pounded in a mortar
- A few thai bird chilies, stems removed, and pounded in mortar
Oh yeah, you need a mortar.
- Stalk of green onions, coursely chopped
- Tablespoon(s)ish of turmeric
- Tablespoon(s)ish of sesame oil
- Tablespoon(s)ish of fish sauce
- Teaspoon or less ground coriander
Mix meat and marinade ingredients together. Allow to sit for a few hours or overnight. Soak wooden bamboo skewers (if using) for an hour in water.
Pork.
Beef.
Chicken. Etc.
“Thread” the meat onto the skewer The surface area of each piece of meat should pierce the end of the skewer at least three times.
Grill.
Peanut Sauce
- 2 thai minced bird chilies
- 1 stalk of lemon grass (de-nubbed and green tops snipped), finely minced
- 1 tablespoon minced ginger
- 1 clove minced garlic
- 4 kaffir lime leaves
- 1 can coconut milk
- 1 teaspoon fish sauce
- 2 tablespoons sugar
- 1 1/2 teaspoons turmeric
- 7 tablespoons natural creamy peanut butter (no sugar)
- 1/2 cup pounded (from a mortar) peanuts
Some people would say if you don’t use whole roasted peanuts and grind them yourself you’re a poser, but those people are most likely elitist egomaniacs and effete, latte-sipping Massachusetts liberals. My mom used Jiffy (or whatever corporate peanut butter that was on hand). A good choice is a natural brand that has no added sugar, and you can add sweetness yourself to taste (and the coconut milk lends sweetness as well). If you were really serious, though, you could go to New Seasons or the hippy aisle at Fred Meyer and grind fresh peanuts (which actually doesn’t sound that hard when I consider it), which would gain my admiration.
You could also experiment with the chunkiness factor, but mixing the ratio of creamy to chunky peanut butter. I would advise going against a pure chunky peanut butter, but that’s just a personal taste. For me, the right amount texture is achieved with a smash of a small handful of peanuts in the mortar, adding to the sauce at the end.
Heat a small amount of peanut oil in a saucepan. Add chilies, lemon grass, garlic, ginger and lime leaves, and sautee at high heat for a minute or two. Add coconut milk, fish sauce, turmeric and sugar, and bring to a boil.
Reduce heat to lowest setting and let steep for 5-10 minutes.
Remove lime leaves. Add peanut butter, crank up the heat, and start stirring. Stir constantly until the peanut butter is completely incorporated, and sauce starts to boil. Reduce heat to lowest possible setting and simmer for 10-15 minutes. Watch out as the sauce can erupt and will bubble and possibly shoot hot projectiles of peanut sauce in the air like molten lava.
When the sauce is thick, it’s ready to serve. Garnish with chopped peanuts.
I’ve noticed the Internets have given rise to a virulent and intense sense of self-entitlement vis-à-vis receiving adequate service at a restaurant…or really at most service-related establishments.
For instance (even if a waiter is slammed), if you aren’t appropriated the attention you think you are so special to deserve, that means you’ve been slighted as if somebody held your mouth open and peed down your throat.
My friend Onna informed me some time ago she actually was bored one day and ordered a Ronco Showtime Rotisserie after seeing an informercial on televion. She said it sat on her kitchen counter for a few years, and she never used it. I took it off her hands, and she even shipped it all the way from L.A. That was very kind of her. It was a gesture of sorts for all the times she’d drove down (when I lived in San Diego) and I’d make her tom yum soup. I suppose she could have found a Thai restaurant in Los Angeles, but that’s besides the point.
As you can see, she wasn’t lying—she hadn’t even bothered to turn it on.
The Showtime came with these handling gloves, which doubles as safety equipment if happen to work in the field of asbestos removal.
Here’s the timing guidelines. I figured I would follow these in the spirit of the original infomercial 1.
The chicken turned out pretty well. It was slathered in a paste made from pureed garlic and shallots, smoked paprika, lemon juice, olive oil, thyme, sea salt, pepper.
What I did next was create a slurry to marinade a lovely leg of lamb I purchased from Costco. Now, this was Australian lamb, which is the lamb they sell at Costco. I have no clue to the provenance of this lamb. I was not friends with it, we did not play cribbage together on Sunday afternoons or spoon while watching You’ve Got Mail on the USA Network. I don’t know if this lamb led an honorable life building miniature windmill power farms, or what it scored on the SATs, or even if the animal was properly instructed in the practices of bikram yoga.
Since it was Australian lamb, I assume it wasn’t local.
My slurry consisted of a shitload of garlic, a few branches of rosemary from my bush, coarse sea salt, coarse black pepper, olive oil, the juice of a lemon, a few splashes of red wine vinegar and…Maggi! All of the solid ingredients were mashed together in a mortar, followed by the liquid components.
I used this insanely phallic injection device provided by the Ronco corporation to inject the marinade deep into the flesh. I then lathered the remaining marinade all over the roast. It was all very distrubing.
I put it back in the fridge to chill for a few hours while I drank and pondered the enormity of what I was about to do.
Let’s roll, bitches.
The thing has a switch for rotating that operates independently of the heating unit. The heating unit tends to get really, really fucking majorly hot. It needs to constantly rotate. If the rotary pauses mid-rotation and sits still for more than even a couple minutes, it will really sear the flesh. You’ll think—like I did originally—that you’ll be fine by just “setting and forgetting”, however, with as much concentrated heat being given off, you’ll have to kill the heat continually and set it to rotation-only in order to not burn your roast’s exterior.
After I constantly reset the rotation/heat, I realized I really wasn’t “forgetting” after “setting”, and thus a general distrust of Ronco Enterprises began to foment within the paranoid back alleys of my mind. Could their cook time guidelines also be misadvertised? It wasn’t as if there was an internal temperature guage that I could monitor—the Showtime is binary. Either really fucking hot, or off. And I was already an hour or more in. I tried looking for my meat thermometer. Why didn’t I find that before I started? I pulled the roast and let it sit.
As you can see, it came out well-done. A ruined piece of post-consumer waste recycled cardboard. I’m not going be the fall guy for this shit. I watched the infomercial.
Fuck you, Ron Popeil. You’re an asshole. If I ever witness your sorry botoxed template around my neck of the woods, I’ll bust a fucking cap in your ass.
1The fine print in the user’s manual actually informs you that you should monitor the unit when you’re cooking it. But the entire informercial was based on the catch phrase, “Set it and forget it!”. Throughout the course of the entire hour, Ron Popeil himself continually compels the crowd to chant this incantation over and over. He pumps the crowd into a mad frenzy, each member whipped into an agitated froth, and cultivates such a shaman-like persona you’d think he was a method actor cast in an Oliver Stone movie.
The Japanese Iron Chef really was a rare, deliciously over-the-top spectacle.
Iron Chef America—I’ve just now realized for some reason—really is pretty fucking stupid.
Also, does anybody remember Version 1.0, aka Iron Chef USA? The chairman was William Shatner, Todd English was the Iron Chef, and Kerry Simon was the first challenger. Maybe it didn’t happen, and was just a hallucination.
Peckish at PFD has posted that Hmart will be coming to Tigard (99W, south of the 217). They will open June 6th.
Think Uwajimaya, with a Korean focus.
LTH thread that discusses the HMart in Chicago.
Here’s a blog post about the food court at the Vancouver (B.C.) Hmart.
I got a letter from the government, the other day. I opened and read it, it said they were suckers…who gave me $600!!!
I bought six pounds of jamón ibérico from from these guys and made a couple Hawaiian pizzas (turned out ok, needed more pineapple and ranch).
What did you do with your rebate check from Uncle Sam?
Caterers find eco-standards tough to chew. (Denver Post)
Caterers praise the committee and the city for their green ambitions, but some say they’re baffled by parts of the RFP.
“I think it’s a great idea for our community and our environment. The question is, how practical is it?” asks Nick Agro, the owner of Whirled Peas Catering in Commerce City. “We all want to source locally, but we’re in Colorado. The growing season is short. It’s dry here. And I question the feasibility of that.”
Agro’s biggest worry is price. Using organic and local products hikes the costs.“There is going to be sticker shock when those bids start coming in,” he says. “I’ll cook anything, but I’ve had clients who have approached me about all-organic menus, and then they see the organic stuff pretty much doubles your price.”
…
Joanne Katz, owner of Three Tomatoes Catering in Denver, cheers the committee’s environmental aspirations and is eager to get involved with the convention, but she wonders if some of the choices the committee is making are really green.
Compostable products, such as forks and knives made from corn starch, are often imported from Asia, delivered to the U.S. in fuel-consuming ships. But some U.S. products are made from recyclable pressed paper. Which decision is more environmentally sound?
Tomorrow is primary election day here in Oregon. Well, if you’re like most people, you’ve already voted as you received your ballot in the mail weeks ago. Me? I like to wait out the entire campaign cycle before dropping my ballot at a drop box location—which for me this year is the Capitol Hill Library. (This library incidentally currently has a “Graphic Novel” section featuring three compendiums of Peter Bagge’s Hate, as well as an Arcade Fire album, and noise canceling earphones joined to the computers that cause my daughter to yell “I want a new one!” at the top or her lungs because she’s unable to modulate her own pitch).
One of my reasons behind waiting until the last minute, other than sheer laziness1, is so I can be sufficiently assaulted by the full ad cycles from each candidate. Take, for instance, the Democratic primary for the opportunity to take on Gordon Smith (R-Pendleton) for the right to represent Oregon in the U.S. Senate.
To this point I had been on the fence. The two candidates are Jeff Merkley, who is currently the speaker of the Oregon House, and firebrand lawyer Steve Novick. Both seem like perfectly fine candidates. Merkley seems the more conventional candidate, with a fine resume of legislative service at the state level, while Novick has made a name for himself as an environmental lawyer who took on big pollution.
Gordon Smith, the two-term incumbent that one of these Democratic upstarts hopes to unseat, is your standard-issue, right-wing rubber stamper. However, his well-coiffed affability and perceived centrist demeanor gives him a bit of crossover appeal and has allowed him to serve two terms in the U.S. Senate representing what is ostensibly seen as a Democratic state. Part of his appeal, as you can clearly see below…
…is due in large part to his hair. Look at that lid. You’d be hard pressed to find another elder statesman in either chamber of the U.S. Congress with such marvelous hair (this includes the three recent Democratic House special election winners). One can easily get lost in his wavy browns. It is mesmerizing, and literally exudes gravitas. Smith is like the Samson of American politics; if you were to shave his head, he would literally cease to be a politician.
With this in mind, Merkley would appear as the safer bet, and conventional wisdom would decree that he matches up in the general with Gordon Smith. If you compare the photos of Merkley and Novick on their websites you’ll see Merkley’s smile featured prominently, a blissful grin that says “life is good, I’m a good person, I am generally satisfied with my life and my place in the world.” Novick’s smirk, on the other hand, says “I know you’re fucking your secretary.”
And, if you don’t already know, Novick is also a 4’9″ impish troll. And he has no left hand. Instead, he has a steel hook.
However, Novick is so resourceful that he makes all of this work to his advantage. You can’t help but like the guy and his non-conformist gumption. He has a mean streak, and he’s shown he’s not afraid to “stick it to the man”, whomever he or she may be or whatever power vacuum is being currently usurped.
But in recent weeks, up until tonight, the one thing that has swung the pendulum to Novick’s side has been television advertising. Not Novick’s, but Merkley’s2.
Exhibit A: one Merkley ad, which ran quite frequently, took Novick to task for trashing fellow Democrats. The irony was lost on Merkley, apparently, but this is politics. However, the quotes attributed to Novick were ripped from his off-the-cuff blog posts, and were taken largely out of context. This kinda pissed me off. I mean, if somebody took direct quotes from this blog, such as Rush Limbaugh “…is a fat, disgusting drug addict. He is a hypocrite, an unfortunate scion of pent up rage, unrequited hatred, and inordinate hubris…He is a wheezing, decrepit, decaying piece of rotting maggot filth…” or that Sandra Lee “…must either a) be fucking some exec at the Food Network or b) have a photo of the same exec in bed with a dead hooker or a live boy…” or simply, “Fuck you, Dick Cheney”, and attributed them directly to me, they’d be a) somewhat disingenuous, and b) entirely accurate.
Fair enough, but then tonight I saw another ad with Merkley and his daughter. Pimping your daughter out is one thing, however, I really don’t care about that (she’s only 11 or something and for all I know her dad is threatening to delete her MySpace profile), but the real crime was the ad used the font Comic Sans MS.
And for that reason, the official Guilty Carnivore Endorsement for Democrat for U.S. Senate goes to Mr. Steve Novick. Sir, now that you will ride my ringing endorsement to a primary victory, may I suggest your first course of action once the general campaign commences is to do something, anything, to demonize Gordon Smith’s hair. Perhaps a whisper campaign, that when it was a young buzzcut it was educated in a madrassa, or that it hangs out in the airport restroom.
1A bonus for not mailing your ballot early during a hotly contested presidential primary, I’ve discovered for the first time ever, is that each candidate will call you often. Just yesterday, the a campaign called me to ask if they could count on my vote for Hillary Clinton, who apparently is still in the race.
With all the calls, you start to feel good about yourself, like you’re a hot commodity, with many courters. Then it gets kinda weird and feels more like stalking, which in itself is not unwelcome, either.
2It should be noted that Gordon Smith himself is on the air, as well, but with two potential opposing candidates running neck-in-neck, the gist of his commercials has been “One of these guys is a total dick.”
======POST-ELECTION UPDATE======
…and Steve Novick…lost. But, in the sage words of one Bret Michaels, every rose has its thorn: the Republican candidate for the open U.S. congressional seat in my district will be the abortionist who threw cocaine-fueled sex parties on his yacht (allegedly). Happy day!
It’s becoming increasingly more difficult to parody shit these days. (Link to some batshit insane woman who fashions herself an Ayn Rand-ian deep thinker).
Chicago Overturns Foie Gras Ban. (NY Times)
Government asks court to block wider testing for mad cow. (AP/Yahoo! News)
The Bush administration on Friday urged a federal appeals court to stop meatpackers from testing all their animals for mad cow disease, but a skeptical judge questioned whether the government has that authority.
I just watched famed magic act (and Las Vegas stalwart) Penn and Teller perform their “act” on David Letterman.
I’ve been more entertained watching my beagle throw up on our new carpet.
Chef wants to outlaw out-of-season vegetables. (Reuters)
Celebrity British chef Gordon Ramsay said restaurants should be fined if they serve out-of-season fruit and vegetables.
“I don’t want to see asparagus in the middle of December. I don’t want to see strawberries from Kenya in the middle of March. I want to see it home-grown,” he said after raising his concerns with Prime Minister Gordon Brown.
“Fruit and veg should be seasonal. Chefs should be fined if they don’t have ingredients in season on their menu,” he told the BBC on Friday.
Ramsay, whose London restaurants include Petrus and The Savoy Grill, said Britain had become a nation of lazy eaters who followed trends and fads rather than substance.
“There should be stringent laws, licensing laws, to make sure produce is only used in season and season only,” he added.
Punishment should include having to watch the same Hell’s Kitchen episode on a continuous loop for 72 hours.
We’ve heard this before. (In-N-Out to PDX? thread @PortlandFood.org)
Déjà Vu Dining. (NY Times)
Summary: “Elitists” visit the chain restaurants of the suburban hinterlands; discover the natives are bitter and cling to their Bloomin’ Onions and fried potato skins.
I encourage everybody to check out Kirk’s dispatches from Vietnam, which are now being showcased at his most excellent blog.
All salmon fishing banned on West Coast.
Salmon fishing was banned along the West Coast for the first time in 160 years Thursday, a decision that is expected to have a devastating economic impact on fishermen, dozens of businesses, tourism and boating.
Commerce Secretary Carlos Gutierrez immediately declared a commercial fishery disaster, opening the door for Congress to appropriate money for anyone who will be economically harmed.
The closure of commercial and recreational fishing for chinook salmon in the ocean off California and most of Oregon was announced by the National Marine Fishery Service.
It followed the recommendation last month of the Pacific Fishery Management Council after the catastrophic disappearance of California’s fabled fall run of the pink fish popularly known as king salmon.
It is the first total closure since commercial fishing started in the Bay Area in 1848.
Cheney’s Office: (Do Not) Save The Whales. (TPMMuckraker)
The latest contribution to good government from Vice President Dick Cheney: preventing the implementation of rules to protect the endangered right whale.
This comes from a letter House sleuth Henry Waxman (D-CA) sent to the White House today, requesting that the administration quit delaying the rules, which would restrict the speed of ships near American ports. Faster moving ships hit the whales, causing injury or death, scientists at the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration say.
Cheeseburger to cost beefy £85. (The Sun, which is a horrible UK tabloid that features topless women)
FAST food chain Burger King are to serve up the world’s most expensive takeaway – costing a whopping £85.
There’s no common old meat in this burger. It will contain top-quality Kobe beef from Japan. And instead of ketchup and cheddar, it will be garnished with foie gras – a goose delicacy – and rare blue cheese.
But BK customers will still be able to buy regular fries and a fizzy drink to help it down.
It will be launched in selected branches next month, with London’s upmarket Kensington and Chelsea tipped to get the posh burger first.
At £85, it is in marked contrast to deadly rival McDonald’s who offer a budget burger for just 99p.
Launching the most expensive takeaway in town may seem odd during the credit crunch.
But Lucy Barrett, of Marketing Magazine, said: “The idea of a burger that no one buys is not as ludicrous as it seems. Burger King will use it to promote a gap in perception between it and McDonald’s. It could lead consumers to reassess the quality of the brand.”
First of all, that’s $136 USD, but could increase steadily as the dollar tanks. Second of all, it doesn’t even include fries and a drink, which probably costs BK pennies?
Third of all…Lucy Barrett? Bill Hicks has some advice for you.
Recession Diet Just One Way to Tighten Belt. (NY Times)
Stung by rising gasoline and food prices, Americans are finding creative ways to cut costs on routine items like groceries and clothing, forcing retailers, restaurants and manufacturers to decode the tastes of a suddenly thrifty public.
Spending data and interviews around the country show that middle- and working-class consumers are starting to switch from name brands to cheaper alternatives, to eat in instead of dining out and to fly at unusual hours to shave dollars off airfares.
Though seemingly small, the daily trade-offs they are making — more pasta and less red meat, more video rentals and fewer movie tickets — amount to an important shift in consumer behavior.
Environmental Cost of Shipping Groceries Around the World. (NY Times)
Food has moved around the world since Europeans brought tea from China, but never at the speed or in the amounts it has over the last few years. Consumers in not only the richest nations but, increasingly, the developing world expect food whenever they crave it, with no concession to season or geography.
Increasingly efficient global transport networks make it practical to bring food before it spoils from distant places where labor costs are lower. And the penetration of mega-markets in nations from China to Mexico with supply and distribution chains that gird the globe — like Wal-Mart, Carrefour and Tesco — has accelerated the trend.
But the movable feast comes at a cost: pollution — especially carbon dioxide, the main global warming gas — from transporting the food.
The wonder fish. (Fortune/CNN Money, via Ezra Klein)
So just what is Kona Kampachi? Think of it as a more versatile cousin of hamachi. It’s not genetically engineered in any way, just well bred. It’s sashimi-grade and sustainably farmed without hormones or prophylactic antibiotics. It’s richer in omega-3 than just about anything else in the ocean and has no detectable mercury. It melts on your tongue, holds up on the grill, and is so rich in oils that it’ll fry in a pan without butter.
Pregnant women, nursing moms, young children: Eat as much as you want of what might just be the best-tasting fish you’ve ever had. Really. It’s that good.
Check out Portland food blogger Veronica’s colorful Flickr gallery, which includes some incredibly twee and delicious bento. So damn cute!
Bakers feeling pinch of short supplies. (Reuters)
Rye flour stocks have been depleted in the United States, and by June or July there will be no more U.S. rye flour to purchase, said Lee Sanders, senior vice president for government relations and public affairs at the American Bakers Association.
EU set to scrap biofuels target amid fears of food crisis. (Guardian UK)
The silence is deafening on this side of the pond.
Tomorrow night is Willamette Week’s Food Cart Festival. Eat and drink, all for a good cause. For those who don’t work downtown (or near Mississippi Ave) 9–5/M–F, it’s a good opportunity to sample the fare.
Uwajimaya is a fantastic, Japanese-focused superstore located at the mouth of Beaverton, just east of the 217 on Beaverton-Hillsdale highway.
Like many places in Beaverton, they have a parking lot.
A bookstore features a wide selection of manga, thus ensuring that at some point you will encounter a skinny white guy with a goatee. Or a perv exploring the possibility of satisfying his J-Girl, Lolita fetish.
Uwajimaya features a bunch of Japanese electronic cooking appliances that no doubtedy showcase advanced, fuzzy logical capabilities. Factoring in Moore’s Law, combined with Kurzweil’s prediction of Singularity, soon these rice cookers will subjugate humans to make rice for them.
Lots of twee kitchen gadgets are here to sate your predilections for mindless consumerism.
A wonderful, colorful selection of instant ramen beckons you. The usual Japanese, Korean, Chinese, Indonesian, Thai, Taiwanese, Thai, Malaysian, Singaporan, Laotion suspects.
And an unrivaled selection of instant bowl noodles, including a few Japanese import brands that—at as much as $4+ for a single serving—are a bit rich for my MSG-laden blood.
This Korean permutation was created by a person who obviously has never seen Soylent Green (R.I.P Charleston Heston – “…cold dead hands”? You made good on your promise).
Fresh (non-fried) ramen is also well represented here. I eat these often.
Uwajimaya has your prepared Asian sauce fix. It’s a bit more pricey than other Asian markets in town, but the selection is superlative and the shelving aesthetics are worth at least 10-20 cents.
One thing no other Asian market in Portland can touch is the selection and quality of Uwajimaya’s produce. In this photo alone you’re looking at pea shoots, Japanese eggplants, bitter melons, lemongrass, long beans, turnips, assorted exotic greens, etc. They selection of choys is only rivaled by Fubonn.
Buddha’s hands. If you stare too long, you might have an acid flashback.
In the fridgerated aisles, you’ll find an excellent variety pickled vegetables, including cucumbers WITH MSG, kimchis, menma, radishes, and assorted mountain roots.
The deli features many pre-made Asian/Hawaiian specialties, available in combo and plate form.
You’ll also find grilled and lacquered meats and seafood, ready for you to take home to construct your own donburri.
The meat section features Carlton Farms pork, and many thin, pre-sliced cuts in case you want to bust out a shabu shabu or Korean BBQ party at your own home.
Live seafood waiting to be mercilessly slaughtered is availble in case you wish to indulge your macabre fetish.
The fish counter. What more can you say? Impeccably fresh, with a nice variety. That’s 3 types of pokes you’ll see there, including a spicy tako (octopus) salad, and a delicious wakame seafood salad.
Blocks of pre-cut, sashimi-grade protein is available for carry-out.
Including sashimi-ready portions chiseled for immediate consumption.
Here are the pokes in case you didn’t believe me earlier, you fucking bastard.
This is a typical take for me when I leave Uwajimaya. Notice the European beer. They feature a few key German, Belgian, and Baltic brands on top of the Asahi Extra Drys and Kirin. They even have the 375ml versions of Unibroue’s La Fin du Monde and Maudite, which I haven’t seen elsewhere, and the 750ml Don de Dieu which is a beer that makes me happy and stuff.
Connected to Uwajimaya’s hip is the wonderful Hakatamon. This is the subject of a future post.
Most of the time, I just grab a pair of chopsticks from the deli register and eat the tako in the parking loft.
Back at home, I like to generously sprinkle poke with togarashi and eat it.
Same with the chuka wakame salad (I’m still trying to figure how to make this stuff).
Hmm, this also gives me an idea.
I’ve got some of this…
…and some Japanese cucumber.
Uwajimaya Salad
- 3.2 ounces (or $2.40 worth) Albacore tataki
- 1/3 pound (or $2.64 worth) hiyasi wakama chuka salad
- 1/2 japanese cucumber, halved lengthwise and sliced wafer thin
- One, singular green onion “pole”, minced
- 1 teaspoon sesame oil
- 2 teaspoons tamari
- Ground white pepper
Combine.
Uwajimaya
10500 SW Beaverton Hillsdale
Beaverton, OR 97005
(503) 643-4512
Directions
A Drought in Australia, a Global Shortage of Rice. (NY Times)
DENILIQUIN, Australia — Lindsay Renwick, the mayor of this dusty southern Australian town, remembers the constant whir of the rice mill. “It was our little heartbeat out there, tickety-tick-tickety,” he said, imitating the giant fans that dried the rice, “and now it has stopped.”
The Deniliquin mill, the largest rice mill in the Southern Hemisphere, once processed enough grain to meet the needs of 20 million people around the world. But six long years of drought have taken a toll, reducing Australia’s rice crop by 98 percent and leading to the mothballing of the mill last December.
…
The collapse of Australia’s rice production is one of several factors contributing to a doubling of rice prices in the last three months — increases that have led the world’s largest exporters to restrict exports severely, spurred panicked hoarding in Hong Kong and the Philippines, and set off violent protests in countries including Cameroon, Egypt, Ethiopia, Haiti, Indonesia, Italy, Ivory Coast, Mauritania, the Philippines, Thailand, Uzbekistan and Yemen.
Looks like Cookie McCain knows how to copy and paste.
Is this really a surprise? You can’t really blame her, as you know she didn’t even have anything to do with that website. I doubt she’s cooked anything beyond a hot toddy.
Though, she does seem remarkably not unlike a certain Food Network personality.
Piling on the Food Network is hardly original. I know. It’s practically a cottage industry in the “blogoshpere”, and it’s been done here before and in much more eviscerating fashion elsewhere.
Like most self-absorbed “foodies”, I’ve long tired of the Food Network and their endless attempts to shove perk and pomp up our asses. There was a time when the channel was a mildly interesting conceit, but that ship has longed sailed, punctuated by endless “Food Challenges” that eventually culminated in a contest to determine who can build the the largest agar agar-crusted, cake-like confectionary public works project in the shape of a lovable Disney Character (broadcast from Epcot Center).
Some time in the late nineties, with the ascension of Emeril, the Food Network became decidely personality-driven, which gave way to the rise of other bankable brands such as Tyler Florence and Alton Brown. Bobby Flay was given ample face time, graduating from “Grilling and Chilling” to a myriad of shows, including “Boy Meets Grill”, another show whose name escapes me where he hammed it up with that vaguely hot New York chicksa in front of an audience of metrosexuals and Sharper Image enthusiasts, “Iron Chef America”, and “Throwdown with Bobby Flay”.
The opposite gender was also featured prominently. Giada de Laurentis flashed smiles and breasts in her plucky routine, charming herself into several different shows of late that properly showcase her huge teeth. Ina Garten gave us a slightly creepy Mrs. Robinson, breathily mugging for the camera as if she’s shamelessly coming on to you everytime she makes a salad. I secretly think she keeps a 14-year old Samoan male on the side when Jeffrey leaves for the city to stockbroke or whatever he does to subsidize her Long Island lifestyle of table decorations, effusive gardening, and the endless parade of oh-so talented gay friends.
Sandra Lee seemed like a fusion of the Mary Kate/Ashley Olson Wonder Twins, all grown up and joined together in the shape of a percoset-hungry housewife who lives in the shadow of an abusive husband with a predeliction for cheap bourbon and forced threesomes. You can actually smell the heavy stank of Aquanet and desperation seeping through the television.
The Food Network soon morphed, however, almost entirely into the network of Rachael Ray, whose unbridled, percolating ebullience makes you understand why the Terrorists really hate us. However, with Ray spread thin of late with her own show and magazine and hanging out with Oprah at Chippendales, a void of sorts has been created, a chasm from whose distended belly erupted that peroxide-stained bobblehead toolshed named Guy Fieri.
You might have seen Fieri in “Diners, Dives, and Drive-ins”, where he roams America’s backwoods looking for honest grub. Apparently, despite constantly making the show about him rather than the people he’s in the business of exposing (or maybe because of this), Food Network has decided to give him another show, “Guy’s Big Bite”.
Nothing really prepared me, however, for the “Ultimate Recipe Showdown”. The show itself is kinda like “Iron Chef” for people who think “Iron Chef” is too educational. Three contestants compete to complete the best dish based on a particular theme (in this case, fried chicken).
It was hosted by Fieri and Marc Summers (nee Marc Berkowitz). The latter personality normally talks you through a half-hour look behind the scenes in “Unwrapped”, a show that exposes how industrial grade surimi is produced, thus scarring you for life. Summers was also once the host of Nickelodean’s “Double Dare”, where he similarly vacillated between effortless cipher and cheerful douchebag. There was a moment in the opening intro of “Ultimate Recipe Showdown” whereupon Summers enunciated every syllable of Fieri’s surname with such Italian-inflected patois that you’re simultaneously suprised by the jarring dissonance and astonished that he’s not an android.
Fieri actually used the line “Domo Arigato on that one, Mr. Summers” when describing one contestant’s decision to use panko in creating her chicken katsu. And when he uttered that phrase, a little kitten was mauled by a panther. He later said “Ain’t no thing but a chicken wing” in regards to another contestant’s (this was an African-American woman, incidentally) recipe for fried chicken wings with fruit sauce, exhibiting that Guy Fieri’s erudite Urban Dictionary prowess is dangerous enough to set race relations back half a decade or so.
This is typical of the banter thrown around during a typical episode:
GF: “Summers(1)…I’ve seen meatballs deep fried.”
MS (incredulously): “Really?”
GF: “Oh…slamma damma ding dong!”
I really have a hard time understanding why the Food Network has decided that Guy Fieri was it. He emerged victorious from the scrum that was the second “The Next Food Network Star”2, but never seemed to possess that je ne sais quoi (thx Nancy) that I thought America would require out of its future Applebee’s pitchmen.
But what do I know. Apparently what America really wants is some pear-shaped loser who looks like he totally owns Smashmouth on karaoke night, who buys all his shirts from PacSun and all his Dep gel from The Dollar Tree. He also owns restaurants in California with names like “Johnny Garlic’s California Pasta Grill”, and “Russell Ramsay’s Chop House” and “Tex Wasabi’s Rock-N-Roll Sushi-BBQ”. All of these names are horribly embarrasing. If anybody you knew asked you to meet for some “Killer Shrimp Yaki-Flautas” and a stiff “Kick-Assarita” and at any of the aforementioned places, you would feel immediately compelled to punch that person in the face.
Ultimate Recipe Showdown
Check your local listings.
1 Fieri frat-affectively calls Summers by his last name, which seems rather misplaced considering this name is completely fabricated.
2 By the way, where did they stash the two gay guys who won the first The Next Food Network Star? Did test marketing snuff their nascent Food Network careers? Did they not play well in Peoria? Were closeted gay homophobes who secretly wished Tyler Florence would baste them too threatened by an openly gay couple?
On Hardball, while remarking on Sen. Barack Obama’s reported request for orange juice after being offered coffee at an Indiana diner, David Shuster asserted: “[I]t’s just one of those sort of weird things. You know, when the owner of the diner says, ‘Here, have some coffee,’ you say, ‘Yes, thank you,’ and, ‘Oh, can I also please have some orange juice, in addition to this?’ You don’t just say, ‘No, I’ll take orange juice,’ and then turn away and start shaking hands.” Host Chris Matthews agreed, “You don’t ask for a substitute on the menu.”
Does this affect you? Do you care?
Here in the U.S., the cost of food has been rising exponentially as we’ve foolishly hitched our wagons (literally) to ethanol. Crops that were once staples in the food cycle, such as corn, are being used to produce fuel in a zero-sum game, and the results are riots in Mexico over the price of tortillas.
A common trope repeated by armchair chaos theorists is that when a butterfly bats its wings, a hurricane can result halfway across the world. However, this appears to be happening at a macro scale in our own country, as rising prices affect everything from eggs to beer.
- Surging costs of groceries hit home
- Grand Rapids-area bakeries hit by rising flour prices
- Rising flour prices send pizzerias scrambling
- Beer Prices Rising Amid Crop Shortage
Working-class Americans are increasingly bearing the brunt of these increased costs (“Middle class Long Islanders turning to food pantries”) as rising wholesale prices are feeding an alarming, worldwide inflationary spike.
We are experiencing a perfect storm, as energy and fuel prices climb, the world’s shaky financial markets continue to deteriorate as a result of greed and malfeasance, and a maturing world population has pushed grain demand to levels unseen. A growing, foreign middle class are patterning their lifestyles much in the way we Americans have been living for decades. This burgeoning affluence has pushed demand for fuel and energy to an all-time high, and millions of middle-class Chinese with a newfound taste for meat are helping to feed a vicious cycle which usurps grain stores at exponential rate (to serve as livestock feed) and burns the massive amounts of fuel necessary to sustain this consumption.
Food riots are breaking out all across the world, which leads to food protectionism as foreign countries limit exports to mitigate domestic upheaval. History indicates (“Rice Riots of 1918”) rising food prices, particularly grain, can be a bellwether from which to gauge growing societal entropy. Just last month, the price of rice in Asia surged 30% in a single day.
The lack of deference to this subject paid by the American mainstream media is disgusting, but hardly surprising. The questions are too myriad to attempt to cogently address, and our current clueless cadre of politicians are hopelessly inept, more concerned with American flag lapel pins and justifying 100 years of troop presence in an area of the world that will soon be ground zero for the entropic decay associated with the eventual end of cheap energy.
With that in mind, Tommy@Macerating Shallots has tagged me for a six word memoir meme. 66.67% of my memoir I will directly rip off from William Butler Yeats:
“The centre cannot hold: we’re fucked“.
As Prices Rise, Farmers Spurn Conservation. (NY Times)
Thousands of farmers are taking their fields out of the government’s biggest conservation program, which pays them not to cultivate. They are spurning guaranteed annual payments for a chance to cash in on the boom in wheat, soybeans, corn and other crops. Last fall, they took back as many acres as are in Rhode Island and Delaware combined.
Environmental and hunting groups are warning that years of progress could soon be lost, particularly with the native prairie in the Upper Midwest. But a broad coalition of baking, poultry, snack food, ethanol and livestock groups say bigger harvests are a more important priority than habitats for waterfowl and other wildlife. They want the government to ease restrictions on the preserved land, which would encourage many more farmers to think beyond conservation.
Kerry Dockter, a rancher in Denhoff, N.D., has about 450 acres of grassland in the program. “When this program first came about, it was a pretty good thing,” he said. “But times have definitely changed.”
The government payments, Mr. Dockter said, “aren’t even comparable anymore” to what he could make by working the land. He plans to devote some of his conservation acres to growing feed for his cows and some to grazing. He might also lease some land to neighbors.
For years, the problem with cropland was that there was too much of it, which kept food prices low to the benefit of consumers and the detriment of farmers.
Now, because of a growing global middle class as well as federal mandates to turn large amounts of corn into ethanol-based fuel, food prices are beginning to jump. Cropland is suddenly in heavy demand, a situation that is fraying old alliances, inspiring new ones and putting pressure on the Agriculture Department, which is being lobbied directly by all sides without managing to satisfy any of them.
Some Good News on Food Prices. (NY Times)
Michael Pollen, in The Omnivore’s Dilemma, argued (among other things) that as a nation we do not pay enough for our food.
Along with some other critics of the American way of eating, he likes the idea that some kinds of food will cost more, and here’s one reason why: As the price of fossil fuels and commodities like grain climb, nutritionally questionable, high-profit ingredients like high-fructose corn syrup will, too. As a result, Cokes are likely to get smaller and cost more. Then, the argument goes, fewer people will drink them.
And if American staples like soda, fast-food hamburgers and frozen dinners don’t seem like such a bargain anymore, the American eating public might turn its attention to ingredients like local fruits and vegetables, and milk and meat from animals that eat grass. It turns out that those foods, already favorites of the critics of industrial food, have also dodged recent price increases.
Logic would dictate that arguing against cheap food would be the wrong move when the Consumer Price Index puts food costs at about 4.5 percent more this year than last. But for locavores, small growers, activist chefs and others, higher grocery bills might be just the thing to bring about the change they desire.
…
“It’s very hard to argue for higher food prices because you are ceding popular high ground to McDonald’s when you do that,” said Mr. Pollan, a contributor to The New York Times Magazine and author of “In Defense of Food: An Eater’s Manifesto” (Penguin Press). “But higher food prices level the playing field for sustainable food that doesn’t rely on fossil fuels.”
Interesting—if somewhat flawed—logic. Though, here’s a question (ignoring the actual tilling and harvesting machinery): how does the food get to the market? I haven’t seen any teams of pack mules on the 99W lately.
This is a wonderful recipe that takes me back to my childhood. My father would make this dish for special occasions, such as Arbor Day, or, interestingly enough, on Nooruz, which is the Kyrgyzstan celebration of New Year that is actually commemorated in the spring. Despite the fact that he had never visited Kyrgyzstan, or had any ties whatsoever—ethnic or platonic—to this landlocked Central Asian country, my father fashioned himself as quite the Krygyz-ophile.
He once even went so far as to befriend a traveling group of Uyghur circus performers, who sponsored his admittance into their homeland in the Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region of the People’s Republic of China with the intention of leading him on a cross-border incursion into greater Kyrgyzstan (this was at the height of the Cold War). Unfortunately, while navigating the highland border crossing, a mule ate some of the psychedelic peyote buttons smuggled back by one of the Uyghur guides (scored during a night of reveling in Bisbee, AZ) and ended up killing half the expedition in a mad rampage.
My father’s life was spared when, in a fit of desperation, he frantically grasped at and accidentally—in a mad flailing—impaled the crazed beast with the dagger end of a kefta kebab skewer. The trip was cut short as the surviving members returned to base camp in order to properly lionize my father with song and fermented yak spittle. Then the Chinese Red Communists came in and imprisoned my father against his will, details of which I will not go into as they were documented in the 1997 movie Red Corner (starring Richard Gere), which is based loosely on my father’s travails.
Nooruz Dumplings (or Arbor Day Stew, or National Heroes’ Day Fricassée, or Administrative Professional’s Day Ragoût)
- Construct a lanyard from girded twine reinforced with titanium filaments.
- To this attach a bulb of elephant garlic using ordinary helicopter cabling hooks, and loop around your neck.
- Extract exactly 43 seeds from a dozen (or so) preserved Moroccan lemons.
- Using a vernier micrometer (in a pinch, a digital caliper will suffice), extract the top .002 millimetre sheath from each seed using your best carbide-based honing stone. Bless with elephant garlic by waving the lanyard exactly 2 cm above in exactly 7 counter-clockwise concentric circles (progressively diminishing in size, you may choose to honor the Golden Ratio…your call). Set aside.
- Meanwhile, in a large stockpot, pour 2573 milliliters of witchhazel stock over one free-range ham hock and the hoof of a middle-aged albino alpaca, and bring to a rapid boil.
- Add 2 tablespoons of tincture of wort (recipe to follow), stir, and lower to a low simmer.
- Bless the stock with garlic lanyard, this time maintaining a 5 cm seperation cushion, doubling the number of concentric circles (again, the Golden Ratio comes highly recommended), but this time use clockwise rotations, except on the very last (14th) rotation.
- Light an incense.
- In a non-stick 12-inch sautee pan, bring 2 tablespoons non-GMO rapeseed oil to smoking point over high temperature. Sear 8 ounces of lean, cubed Virginia Oppossum tenderloin (that has been sprinkled with Tamil peppercorns and Gibraltan sea salt) for 1 minute. Then take the garlic lanyard, smash against your forehead with a force strong enough to maim a small child, and then add to pan with lemon seed shavings and one gingko nut. Stir-fry until the papery garlic skins become translucent.
- Hermetically seal these ingredients with your favorite brand of high barrier plastic, and place inside a thermal immersion circulator and allow to cook sous vide at exactly 185 degrees Farenheight for a fortnight.
- When the meat has been cooked, plate in a shallow dish, top with a ladle of stock, and garnish with a dollop of wort tincture (recipe to follow).
Tincture of wort
- 3 kilos assorted wort, including but not exlusive to Adderwort (aka Snakeweed), Blue Navelwort, Bullock’s or Cow’s Lungwort, Golden Ragwort, Laserwort, Mallowwort, or Sea Milkwort. However, I would advise against using Hemlock Dropwort, which imparts a slight bitterness that is not very pleasing to the palate.
- 1123 milliliters of common bog liquid
- 5346 milliliters desalinized North Sea water
- One nutmeg berry
- One tablespoon Brewer’s yeast
Bring all the ingredients to a boil in a pressure cooker, and cook for one hour. Decant the liquid using Spanish Moss as the filtering medium, then wash the residue, puree, and set aside. Reduce the liquid by 1/2, add 1/2 teaspoon of agar agar, pureed residue, and 1/8 a thimble of sodium sulphate. Stir well and salt to taste. Mixture with thicken as it stands.
Food Stamp Use at Record Pace as Jobs Vanish. (NY Times)
Driven by a painful mix of layoffs and rising food and fuel prices, the number of Americans receiving food stamps is projected to reach 28 million in the coming year, the highest level since the aid program began in the 1960s.
The number of recipients, who must have near-poverty incomes to qualify for benefits averaging $100 a month per family member, has fluctuated over the years along with economic conditions, eligibility rules, enlistment drives and natural disasters like Hurricane Katrina, which led to a spike in the South.
But recent rises in many states appear to be resulting mainly from the economic slowdown, officials and experts say, as well as inflation in prices of basic goods that leave more families feeling pinched. Citing expected growth in unemployment, the Congressional Budget Office this month projected a continued increase in the monthly number of recipients in the next fiscal year, starting Oct. 1 — to 28 million, up from 27.8 million in 2008, and 26.5 million in 2007.
The percentage of Americans receiving food stamps was higher after a recession in the 1990s, but actual numbers are expected to be higher this year.
Federal benefit costs are projected to rise to $36 billion in the 2009 fiscal year from $34 billion this year.
Commentary: Shame on them and shame on us. (McClatchy)
I suppose this benign neglect of so important and damaging an event is combat fatigue on the part of the public. No doubt the White House is happy to see Iraq shoved to a back burner, just as all three presidential candidates are relieved to talk about something else, anything else, but their half-baked ideas about the war.
Shame on them, and shame on us, for such callous indifference to the service, sacrifice and suffering of the families of the dead, wounded and injured troops who’ve given so much for so little in return.
Vice President Cheney again stuck both feet in his mouth by saying and then repeating that we should remember that our military is composed entirely of volunteers; that our troops all volunteered for this duty, this burden, this sacrifice.
What’s your point, Mr. Vice President? That because they volunteered to serve our country in uniform it’s okay to squander their lives in a war of choice, your choice and your president’s, and that it somehow matters less than if they’d been dragooned into service by press gangs or a draft like the one you dodged with five deferments during the Vietnam War because, you said, you had “better things to do”?
High Rice Cost Creating Fears of Asia Unrest. (NY Times)
HANOI — Rising prices and a growing fear of scarcity have prompted some of the world’s largest rice producers to announce drastic limits on the amount of rice they export.
The price of rice, a staple in the diets of nearly half the world’s population, has almost doubled on international markets in the last three months. That has pinched the budgets of millions of poor Asians and raised fears of civil unrest.
Shortages and high prices for all kinds of food have caused tensions and even violence around the world in recent months. Since January, thousands of troops have been deployed in Pakistan to guard trucks carrying wheat and flour. Protests have erupted in Indonesia over soybean shortages, and China has put price controls on cooking oil, grain, meat, milk and eggs.
Food riots have erupted in recent months in Guinea, Mauritania, Mexico, Morocco, Senegal, Uzbekistan and Yemen. But the moves by rice-exporting nations over the last two days — meant to ensure scarce supplies will meet domestic needs — drove prices on the world market even higher this week.
Phở Binh Minh (no relation to Binh Minh nee Maxim Sandwiches) is located just north of dowtown Tigard, half a mile south of the 217/99w intersection.
It is a pretty standard-issue, family-run Vietnamese restaurant. Which explains why I enjoy eating here.
Phở Binh Minh opened in late spring of 2007, and has a new-ish, recently baked feel. There’s a surreptitious hallway to the left as you enter that leads to a video crack room that seems to exist within a vacuum in its own strange, alternate existence, completely divorced from the prosaic reality in the main dining room.
Ah, Oregon. You can feed a daily addiction, diverted from and sheltered by society, but pumping your own gas is verboten.
The Goi Cuon (with shrimp and poached pork loin) is fresh and features a nice amount of fresh herbs.
Here’s a cross-section view.
The Goi Cuon Chay (vegetarian) were very nice – extremely large. The fried tofu was excellent, and it was packed with Thai basil. The fillings were bursting from the seams – one of of the rolls was nearly falling apart. But I’ll take that any day over a small petite salad roll.
The garnish platter isn’t the most ample, but features just enough for a large bowl. Big ups for the sawleaf herb (ngo gai).
The Phở Tai Chin (with rare beef and braised brisket).
Note: if you’re ordering phở tai (rare beef), ask for your “steak on the side”—if you like it that way—and you’re sure to get it. The waiters are sons of the family,and speak English fluently. And you get a fair amount of lean, thin slices of beef round draped on a side plate with your soup.
Brisket.
The phở here is an honest, hearty bowl of soup. It’s not the most nuanced of broths, but it’s a flavorful, “clean” broth and it’s evident the cooks pays careful attention to the stock. It is very reminiscent of the stocks I grew up eating from the various kitchens of my Mom, aunt, and their various friends. The fresh rice noodles are consistently toothsome.
Their papaya salad, quite frankly, rocked my world. For $4.95 it was chock full of fresh shrimp (and pork – there was a good amount of protein), and the herbs were aplenty – rau ram and basil. The Viet version of papaya salad is less tangy than Thai version, with more of a focus on sweetness (some may call it cloying), but ample slices of fresh jalapeno played well against that. Really, really good.
I’ve also sampled a few other items at Phở Binh Minh. The Bun Tom Thit Nuong was large, ample. The grilled pork in this dish was seasoned nicely will lemongrass, and the skewer of 3 grilled shrimp were slightly overcooked, but otherwise good. Their nuoc cham I think is bland, a bit on the sweet side (I like my cham fiery and tangy). A decent version, albeit subdued—the garnish (just cukes, pickles, lettuce, sprouts) could have used fresh mints and basil.
Their cia gio is a pretty good rendition, as well. This place serves solid, fresh food with proteins that never have “off” tastes (something I can’t say about certain other Vietnamese places in town). On the strengths of their standard-issue Vietnamese dishes, Phở Binh Minh is in a league with some of the better Viet restaurants in Portland.
Phở Binh Minh
11945 SW Pacific Hwy Ste 212
Tigard, OR 97223
(503) 968-0121
Map
Following up on the last post about the distribution of wealth vis-a-vis Starbucks tip jars, last Monday night I went to Berbati’s to see Jens Lekman. On a table inside the entrance, set up to collect ticket money and check off names from the will-call list, was a fucking tip jar.
After paying over $6 beyond the face value of a ticket for “convenience” fees, just to get my name on a list so that it can be crossed out…and you’re expecting a fucking tip? Go blow an alpaca, you entitled piece of shit.
Starbucks sued again over tip pools. (Seattle Times)
A week after Starbucks was ordered to refund more than $100 million to baristas in California over a tip pool controversy, the coffee giant was hit Tuesday with a similar lawsuit in Massachusetts.
And a Boston lawyer said more lawsuits could be filed in Washington, New York and Minnesota over whether shift supervisors can share baristas’ tips.
In Suffolk Superior Court, barista Hernan Matamoros seeks restitution for himself and other baristas who worked for Starbucks during the past six years. He claims baristas did not receive the “total proceeds of tips” left by customers because the company allowed shift supervisors to have a portion of them.
Shannon Liss-Riordan, an attorney who filed the suit, said Massachusetts’ law is even clearer than California’s law that “anyone with managerial authority is not an employee who may receive a share of tips.”
Well, not PDX proper, but Beaverton. At lunch today at Hakatamon I spotted a notice (it was inserted into every menu) that starting April 1, they will be introducing hakata style tonkotsu ramen, in addition to champon and sara udon. The notice boasted of a 12-hour stewed broth.
I sure hope it’s not an April Fool’s joke.
Bullet Bounces Off Chef Paul Prudhomme. (Via Flynn @PF.org)
Chef Paul Prudhomme was grazed by a bullet Tuesday, but the bullet didn’t do any damage, according to Jefferson Parish deputies.
The chef was cooking at the TPC golf course in Avondale when, according to deputies, he felt something hit his arm. A .22 caliber bullet then fell from his sleeve. Prudhomme was attending The Zurich Classic, where he was preparing fish. Police said it could’ve been fired by a hunter in the rural area near the course.
Deputies said the bullet did not penetrate.
According to police, a .22 caliber bullet can travel up to a mile and a half, meaning it could’ve come from a very wide geographic area. Police said there is little chance of figuring out who fired the bullet that struck him.
Police originally classified the incident as a shooting, but later reclassified it as a simple complaint.
I think it’s safe to say a pilot for “CSI: New Orleans” is not in the works.
Prison Calls It Food, Inmates Disagree. (Huffington Post)
When shooting suspect Christopher Williams acted up in prison, he was given nutraloaf _ a mixture of cubed whole wheat bread, nondairy cheese, raw carrots, spinach, seedless raisins, beans, vegetable oil, tomato paste, powdered milk and dehydrated potato flakes.
Prison officials call it a complete meal. Inmates say it’s so awful they’d rather go hungry.
On Monday, the Vermont Supreme Court will hear arguments in a class action suit brought by inmates who say it’s not food but punishment and that anyone subjected to it should get a formal disciplinary process first.
Prison officials see nutraloaf as a tool for behavior modification.
Lean Cuisine. (Willamette Week)
Portland’s alt-weekly (the one with less female escort ads) explores the economic ennui that has seeped into our burg’s sprawling restaurant scene. Choice bits:
Just in the past few months, a number of what looked like solid dining hot spots have closed, including expense account-friendly Tondero, the eco-focused Terroir, downhome Lagniappe, chi-chi Hurley’s and the offal-obsessed Alberta Street Oyster House (which found a new owner and has since reopened).
…
“January was not a good month for the restaurant business in Portland,” says David Machado, the owner-chef of Southeast’s Vindalho and Lauro, WW Restaurant of the Year 2004. “If anyone says it was, they’re in la-la land.”
…
“I raised prices for the first time in a long time,” says Lisa Schroeder, owner-chef of Mother’s Bistro. “I basically give away my lox platter. At $14 I am not even covering my costs. The bagel alone is two bucks. But people in this town are only willing to pay so much for a dish. People in this town are too frugal.”
…
To give but one example of the importance of Portland’s dining scene, consider what Brian Ramsay, a broker for Realty Trust Group, has to say about the role great restaurants have in his business. “People who move to the Pearl District are focused on surrounding businesses, especially restaurants,” he says. “These people eat out every night and want quality food options to go with their condo.”
The short-term solution lies with us. If we want to keep up our town’s foodie rep, we have to step up to the plate, literally, and eat out.
You hear that? It’s your fault. You need to eat out more, you inconsiderate fuckers.
Now that I’ve made basic noodle stock and char sui pork, here’s one of my favorite soups to enjoy in the comfort of my own home. It enjoy it as a great weekend breakfast.
Soy Sauce Eggs
- 6 eggs
- 3/4 cup soy sauce
- 3/4 cup water
- 2 tablespoons rice wine or chinese black vinegar
- Few dashes chili oil
- Any “tincture” you want (garlic, ginger, five spice — you’re the boss)
Boil eggs for 5 minutes. Carefully drain and shock in cold water/ice. Carefully peel.
Place eggs into shallow saucepan with the rest of the ingredients. Slowly bring to a steaming bath. Allow to steep over low temp for 30 minutes or more, flipping eggs often. Remove eggs from liquid and allow to cool.
Here’s the finished product.
These are wonton noodles. You can find them at most Asian markets for under $2/pound of fresh noodles.
Soup vegetation suggestions
Bok choy and other choy-type cabbages
Spinach
Mushrooms, shitake and otherwise
Bean sprouts
Celery greens/leaves
Garnishes
Soy sauce eggs
Char sui pork, sliced
Onion, sliced paper thin
Green onions
Cilantro
Chili oil/paste
Assemble
Bring 1 1/2 cups of basic noodle stock up to a boil. In another pan, bring enough water to temp to boil 1/4 to 1/3 pound of fresh wonton noodles.
Simultaneous add the vegetables to the boiling stock and noodles to the boiling water. Stir accordingly for 90 seconds. Kill heats.
Strain noodles, and immediatly place into large soup bowl. Throw in your garnishes, and pour over broth and veggies.
As a final touch, grind fresh black and white pepper.
Iron Chef Boyardee. (Village Voice)
That, I figured, was an important consideration. I had been told that the Food Network threatened anyone who attended with a million-dollar fine if they revealed anything about the episode before it aired. But there are no worries now; the episode finally showed up on TV a couple of weeks ago, and it only confirmed what I’d realized as I sat in the audience last year:
Iron Chef America is more bogus than even I had imagined.
I knew the emperor had no clothes when I saw the chairman’s nephew in a B-movie action flick on cable.
Honey, will you marry… Oh. Never mind… (Reuters via Yahoo! News)
Hajji, of Hackney, east London, had concealed a $12,000 engagement ring inside a helium balloon. The idea was that she would pop the balloon as he popped the question.
But as he left the shop, a gust of wind pulled the balloon from his hand and he watched the ring — and quite possibly the affections of his girlfriend — sailing away over the rooftops.
“I couldn’t believe it,” he told The Sun newspaper.
“I just watched as it went further and further into the air.
“I felt like such a plonker. It cost a fortune and I knew my girlfriend would kill me.”
Hajji spent two hours in his car trying to chase and find the balloon, without success.
“I thought I would give Leanne a pin so I could literally pop the question,” he said.
Last night I bought a anniversary card for my wife, and left it at the checkstand. I feel your pain, dude.
JPMorgan Acts to Buy Ailing Bear Stearns at Huge Discount. (NY Times)
Bear Stearns, facing collapse because of the mortgage crisis, agreed Sunday evening to be bought by JPMorgan Chase for a bargain-basement price of less than $250 million, the two companies announced.
$250 million? The entire company is worth the same as Alex Rodridguez?
Holy shit. We’re fucked.
UPDATE: More here.
Perhaps moreso than any other major investment securities firm, Bear promoted a culture of circled wagons, an us-against-the world camaraderie. As part of that effort, the investment bank paid a significant portion of its employees’ compensation in stock. On its Web site, Bear says that its employees own about one-third of the firm. That translates into about a $5.23 billion loss on paper for Bear’s employees over the last year, as the firm’s stock plunged 79.4 percent.
Bear also states on its Web site that non-management directors are required to hold at least 500 shares of common stock or equivalents (which include vested options and restricted stock), while executive officers must own at least 5,000 shares.
I’ve described my process for making unnaturally red char sui bbq pork. Here’s what you can do with it. Make a sandwich.
I’ve made bánh mì on this blog a couple times in the past. Here’s a bbq pork bánh mì, with the requisite radish and carrot garnish, that, incidentally, if you leave to marinate on the counter at room tempurature for more than a few hours it will then smell like crusty taint seeped in an ass perfume.
Ass Salad
- Equal parts daikon radish and carrots (julienned, roughly—I prefer flatter pieces)
- Rice vinegar and sugar (1 tablespoon sugar for every 1/2 cup of rice vinegar)
Combine and mix thoroughly. Allow to assify at room temp for an hour or two and then stick in the fridge.
Garnish
For me, I need cilantro, jalapenos (preferably sliced length-wise), cucumber (essential), pickles, and Maggi.
I also usually prefer to sub in a conventional french roll from a local bakery, as opposed to a Viet/French bakery, whose crust I feel aren’t substantial enough to agnonizely pierce the top of my mouth. Label it gastronomic S&M, if you will.
Slice up your char sui pork. Assemble the sandwich. I like to lightly toast the bread.
A fully dressed sandwich. One of those rare moments in life where you think maybe all of it is really worth it.
Costs Surge for Stocking the Pantry. (NY Times)
Mr. Newton’s pain is being felt in grocery checkout aisles across the country. Government figures released Friday showed that grocery costs had jumped 5.1 percent in 12 months, the latest in a string of increases. In fact, the nation is undergoing its worst grocery inflation since the early 1990s.
With a few exceptions, nearly every grocery category measured by the Labor Department, which compiles the official inflation numbers, has increased in the last year. Milk is up 17 percent, as are dried beans, peas and lentils. Cheese is up 15 percent, rice and pasta 13 percent, and bread 12 percent.
No food product has gone up as much as eggs, jumping 25 percent since February 2007 and 62 percent in the last two years.
Slashfood Talks: Mark Bittman responds with tinge of sarcasm. (Slashfood).
No. He is not.
What they didn’t tell you about recent meat recall. (Chicago Tribune via Seattle Times)
Those products include two versions of Nestlé’s Hot Pocket sandwiches, Heinz’s Boston Market lasagna with meat sauce, General Mills’ Progresso Italian Wedding Soup and a variety of meat products from ConAgra, ranging from Slim Jim snacks to Hunt’s Manwich Original Sloppy Joe Sauce.
The companies stressed that the use of Hallmark/Westland meat was limited, and that they notified retailers and told them to pull those products.
But none had taken the usual step of notifying consumers through news releases and warnings on Web sites.
Why the secrecy? In part because the recall is indirect; the U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA) urged Hallmark/Westland to contact food producers that use its meat and urge them to pull their products. But the USDA did not contact food producers.
The food manufacturers said they are under no obligation to notify consumers.
Queue up Jim Gaffigan singing voice: “Death Pocket!”
Iron Chef America: Supreme Cuisine officially cooked up for Wii, DS. (Joystiq)
Few details about the game are currently known, other than it will feature “a series of fast-paced and intense culinary challenges,” and that players will compete in Kitchen Stadium to become the next Iron Chef.
Iron Chef America: Supreme Cuisine will also include the likeness of show host Mark Dacascos, who replaced the original pepper-eating (not to mention snappily dressing) Takeshi Kaga. As much as we’d like to get behind the idea of waving our arms in the air in order to make squid ink ice creme or rabbit kidney stew, we’re disappointed that the game will be based on Iron Chef’s North American incarnation instead of the original, albeit more absurd Japanese original. Nevertheless — Allez Cuisine!
Here’s a hint: don’t choose Cat Cora, or you’re bound to lose.
Anybody watch the opening of SNL last night?
The last time I endured something so painfully unfunny, I was at a funeral.
Surging costs of groceries hit home. (Boston Globe)
After nearly two decades of low food inflation, prices for staples such as bread, milk, eggs, and flour are rising sharply, surging in the past year at double-digit rates, according to the Labor Department. Milk prices, for example, increased 26 percent over the year. Egg prices jumped 40 percent.
Escalating food costs could present a greater problem than soaring oil prices for the national economy because the average household spends three times as much for food as for gasoline. Food accounts for about 13 percent of household spending compared with about 4 percent for gas.
Dispatches from San Francisco: dim sum at Ton Kiang ($78, without tax, including soft drinks and tea).
We were barely seated before string beans, cabbage, and a first wave of dumplings were delivered.
Shrimp and snow pea dumpling.
Shrimp and scallop dumplings.
Shrimp and chive dumplings.
Sauteed string beans with shitake mushrooms.
Steamed choy.
Shrimp har gow.
We asked for hot sauce, this green sauce was delivered with a red chili garlic sauce.
Potstickers.
Turnip cake.
“Siu Lung bao”, Shanghai dumplings.
Served with vinegar.
Sauteed spinach with fried/braised garlic.
BBQ pork buns.
BBQ pork bun, split.
Fried sesame balls.
Fried squid.
Roast duck.
Tofu skin roll.
Pork shu mai.
Rice porridge cart.
Rice porridge.
Ton Kiang
5821 Geary Blvd
San Francisco, CA
94121
website
Yes, MSG, the Secret Behind the Savor. (NY Times – Via Umami Mart)
IN 1968 a Chinese-American physician wrote a rather lighthearted letter to The New England Journal of Medicine. He had experienced numbness, palpitations and weakness after eating in Chinese restaurants in the United States, and wondered whether the monosodium glutamate used by cooks here (and then rarely used by cooks in China) might be to blame.
The consequences for the restaurant business, the food industry and American consumers were immediate and enormous. MSG, a common flavor enhancer and preservative used since the 1950s, was tagged as a toxin, removed from commercial baby food and generally driven underground by a new movement toward natural, whole foods.
“It was a nightmare for my family,” said Jennifer Hsu, a graphic designer whose parents owned several Chinese restaurants in New York City in the 1970s. “Not because we used that much MSG — although of course we used some — but because it meant that Americans came into the restaurant with these suspicious, hostile feelings.”
I’ve been quite clear on the subject. The anti-MSG movement is the Red Scare of our generation, and all you culinary Joe McCarthys are on notice.
A future voter.
This is a standard soup broth, primarily used as a base for Asian soup meals, that I like to keep on hand. It is multi-purpose.
- A bunch of pork neck bones (i.e over a pound)
- A whole chicken, or bunch of chicken bones (equivalent to a whole chicken)
You can find pork bones for soup at any Vietnamese store.
Chicken suggestion: If you’re using a whole chicken, I suggest you “poach” the bird under a low flame for 45 minutes, then remove, allow to cool. Then, strip the meat from the carcass, setting it aside, and return the bones and skin and backbone and wing tips etc. to the pot with the pork bones and bring the liquid back to a boil over high heat then lower to low simmer.
Chicken suggestion #2: There’s a Vietnamese store on 65th/Sandy called Thanh Thao market. They come highly recommended. In the meat freezer, you’ll find small, bony birds labeled as “stewing chickens”. They will look like emaciated carcasses. I’m not sure if these unfortunate chickens were way into themselves and hard drugs and eating disorders, but they look the part. In fact, these stewing chickens do not look unlike Nicole Richie. You can use this things for stock.
Add to the stock pot (already filled with your carcass components) the following in any combination/entirety:
- Large knob of rinsed ginger
- 3-4 large carrots (i’m a lazy ass who always has peeled baby carrots on hand–1/2 package)
- 1 large onion
- 3-4 stalks celery
- 3-4 bay leaves
- 1/2 teaspoon coriander seeds
- 1/2 teaspoon white peppercorns
- 1/2 teaspoon black peppercorns
- the stems of an entire bunch of cilantro
Bring to a boil. Reduce to the lowest possible heat setting and simmer for 12 hours.
Strain. Maybe even twice (especially if you’re OCD). Store, freeze, and use as needed.
A long time ago I posted to http://portlandfood.org inquiring into where I could get xiao long bao in Portland.
For anybody who is unsure what xiao long bao is I encourage you to read Jaden’s extemely superlative XLB post.
Most responses came up short. However, I recently received an email from Cuisine Bon Femme that said to keep an eye out for a certain food cart downtown that had just opened. God bless her heart.
Sure enough, Asian Station food cart on SW Pine and 10th downtown serves up these elusive elixirs. I stopped by a recent Saturday morning (note: they are not open on Saturdays. This was a winter anomoly).
You get 8 dumplings to an order.
My camera ran out of batteries, but this photo is cribbed from their their website. But I can assure you, they look exactly just like these. Except they are served in a plastic container sans napa cabbage pillow.
Served with a plastic ramekin of Chinese vinegar, with a bottle of Siracha within reach, you’re reminded of why Portland’s downtown food cart scene really is a special thing.
The lovely and talented holybasil at Hot.Sour.Salty.Sweet. And Umami has tagged me for the Five Things meme. I have been tagged before, but I’m a good sport so I’ll take my marching orders in stride. However, I am going to respectfully decline to disseminate the meme—for now—as I feel I’ve already spread the love once.
Here we go, Five Things, redux:
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1. There was an occasion, in the nineties, whereupon I woke up one morning and decided to wear jean shorts—aka “jorts”—that day. For this I am very, very ashamed, and would like to use this opportunity to apologize as profusely as possible.
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2. I graduated from the University of Arizona, yet I don’t call myself an “alumni” as I never received my degree. The bursar’s office demanded that I pay $60+ for a book that I know for certain I returned to the library. They withheld my diploma, and soon began to send me menacing collection notices for a period of time, which I dutifully waited out. Now that I’ve completely paid off the thousands of dollars in outstanding student loans + interest, I feel I’ve completely stuck it to them and have emerged victorious from this scrum. Advantage: me.
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3. Some of my earliest food memories are from the first and second grade, living up in Westminster, Orange County (Southern California). I remember eating smashed bird chilies and salt with mango, chicken soup made from a freshly killed pet, and, strangely enough, still-born duck fetuses. I kid you not. I remember distinctly that we kept duck eggs in our garage, and I would tap to break off the top portion of the egg. This severed portion of the shell would be lifted to reveal a half-developed duck—head, beak, body and all. I would pour an insane amount of salt into the egg and dig into the muck with a spoon. Jesus fucking christ that’s depraved.
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4. I once worked at a purportedly “fine-dining” continental restaurant during my college years. We wore tuxes, and my job ostensibly was to wheel around a cart stocked with various spirits, ingredients, and assorted tools. We’d construct table-side caesar salads, steak tartares, as well as flambé entrees and desserts such as steak diane, ouzo prawns, cherries jubilee and bananas foster.
It was probably the worst-run restaurant in America. The owner was in his eighties and also owned all KFC’s in the area, and kept the restaurant as some weird vanity money pit. The maître d/general manager dealt cocaine AND steroids out of the office, and hired all his friends from high school on which he had man crushes on (many of whom were jocko roid-heads who allowed him to inject steroids in their butts). The rest of the staff were stoners and ex-cons. In the wine room, where the lone bottle of Château Margaux used to be (one drunken night, after shift, we drank it) was ready-to-serve pot paraphernalia. The head chef brought on his buddy as grill cook. One day the first week he was on shift, I walked back into the kitchen, and this 6’8″ guy—tatted to the gills, looking like a Motörhead roadie, trimming the silverskin off an entire beef tenderloin and slicing of little pieces of raw chunks and popping them in his mouth like they were M&Ms—asked me if I wanted to buy methamphetamine.
After a long run, the owner decided he had had enough and was going to close the place once and for all, and the entire staff used the last week of existence as a trial run towards depravity. Everybody left closing night with a bittersweet, empty feeling in the pit of their stomachs. What would we do with our lives, unemployed, over the course of a hot, listless Arizona summer? Then three weeks later we got a call informing us the owner ran into some snag with his lease, and they would be opening for dinner that night and we could all have our jobs back—an offer some of us accepted. When we arrived at work we realized half of our glassware, dishware, serving and kitchen equipment had been carted off in the dead of night by the former staff on closing night, three weeks earlier.
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5. I love MSG. I think it is God’s cocaine.
CBF@Portlandfoodanddrink.com is optimistic that Uwajimaya has a fighting chance to open a flagship location in Portland’s Chinatown.
Never underestimate the strength of the human spirit.
Here’s a secret.
I use the packet.
Yep.
The ingredients list of a representative packet, which you can pick up at any Asian store for anywhere from $.69 to $1.19. Reputable brands include Noh and Mama Sita. What’s not to like? Anti-caking agent…yum.
Here’s the deal. This marinade is pretty standard, and you can forego the packet, but I eat with my eyes. I need the red. I get off on the red. Eating something red really indulges a fetish I can’t fully explain.
And if that means I eat a bit of food coloring, I’m ok with that. Isn’t this molecular gastronomy? And it is “natural”. It’s a derivation of anatto/achiote. And probably cochineal beetle.
Char Sui Pork
- 2 pounds pork of various sort, preferably a fatty cut like country style ribs (if I’m using something like a pork shoulder, I like to trim fat and tie it back up with butcher twine )
- 1/2 packet commercial char sui seasoning. I prefer Noh brand, which is plenty RED
- 2 garlic cloves, minced
- 2 tablespoons low-sodium soy sauce
- 3 tablespoons hoisin sauce
- 2 tablespoons honey
- 2 tablespoons rice wine
- Couple squirts chili oil (more RED!) or sesame oil
- 1/2 teaspoon five-spice powder
Combine all ingredients except for the meat, and mix well to create a nice slurry, sludgey liquid. Pour over meat and use your hands to really get the marinade in there. The meat should be red. If it’s not sufficiently red enough, I would add more of the char sui seasoning or perhaps slit your jugular and allow the contents to spill all over the pork.
Allow to marinade for at leat 4 hours, more if you are like me and like flavor.
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Place the pork on a sheet pan or wire rack, reserving marinade, and roast for 20-25 minutes. “Lacquer” marinade with a brush every 10 minutes, three times (an additional 30 minutes or so).
Remove, allow to cool, and slice up.
This marinade is equally delicious with spare ribs. The marinade is equivalent to the brining that I usually do when I cook ribs, though I would tent the ribs with foil in a 250 degree oven and steam/roast/bake for 90 minutes before finishing off/lacquering on an open flame grill.
Often, at Asian markets you can find individually sliced ribs for the purpose of making individual, cha sui ribs. Here’s those ribs marinating with a loin or two. Acknowledge the red.
And the pork all cooked up.
Now that you have a lot of char sui pork on hand, you can use it in stir fries, banh mi sandwiches, salad rolls, and, my favorite…
…as a topping for noodle soups.
Why Does Popcorn Cost So Much at the Movies? (Physorg.com)
New research from Stanford and the University of California, Santa Cruz suggests that there is a method to theaters’ madness–and one that in fact benefits the viewing public. By charging high prices on concessions, exhibition houses are able to keep ticket prices lower, which allows more people to enjoy the silver-screen experience.
The findings empirically answer the age-old question of whether it’s better to charge more for a primary product (in this case, the movie ticket) or a secondary product (the popcorn). Putting the premium on the “frill” items, it turns out, indeed opens up the possibility for price-sensitive people to see films. That means more customers coming to theaters in general, and a nice profit from those who are willing to fork it over for the Gummy Bears.
I’ll have to take their word for it. I’ve seen exactly one movie in the theaters in the last four years. The popcorn and hot dogs cost too much.
“Impossible” Chef Caught in Very Possible Lies (TMZ.com – h/t Joisey@PortlandFood.org)
The hard-ass British chef who stars in Food Network’s “Dinner: Impossible” is finding that spinning tall tales about one’s background is no cakewalk — and now the network says it’s investigating his alleged misrepresentations. Oh, deah.
Robert Irvine has claimed all over the place that he’d helped design Prince Charles and Princess Di’s wedding cake, among other things. But after an oddly thorough investigation by the St. Petersburg Times, Irvine admits he didn’t really bake it — or have anything to do with it … and that’s just the icing.
“It’s unfortunate if Robert embellished the extent of his culinary experiences,” said a Food Network rep. “We are investigating the matter and taking the necessary steps to ensure the accuracy of all representations of Robert on Food Network and foodnetwork.com.”
The Food Network also had an incident during the very last Search for the Next Food Network Douchebag™ where that guy (who was probably going to actually win the thing) was discovered to have lied about being an Iraq War vet.
You think a major league outfit like the Food Network would vet their talent a little more efficiently. They seem to have the pre-screening acumen displayed by the Bush Administration when it came time to staff FEMA.
What next? Might we find out that Guy Fieri’s hair color is—gasp—unnatural?
Michelin Gives Stars, but Tokyo Turns Up Nose. (NY Times)
Many prominent figures of the Tokyo food world, however, are saying to Michelin, in effect, thanks for all the attention (which we deserve), but you still do not know us or our cuisine.
Food critics, magazines and even the governor of Tokyo have questioned the guide’s choice of restaurants and ratings. A handful of chefs proudly proclaimed that they had turned down chances to be listed. One, Toshiya Kadowaki, said his nouveau Japonais dishes, including a French-inspired rice with truffles, did not need a Gallic seal of approval.
…
“Anybody who knows restaurants in Tokyo knows that these stars are ridiculous,” said Toru Kenjo, president of Gentosha publishing house, whose men’s fashion magazine, Goethe, published a lengthy critique of the Tokyo guide last month. “Michelin has debased its brand. It won’t sell as well here in the future.”
Up here in Oregon, the winters are bleak and stark, with weeks upon consecutive weeks of rain and grey. There’s a phenomenon called “Seasonal Affective Disorder” that can be used to explain the winter doldrums we experience in the Pacific Northwest (although we tend to call it by its less-pedantic moniker, “alcoholism”). While I wait for the return of the sun and the dissipation of the thick cloud cover, I can’t help but focus on how old I’ve become.
I turned 35 a half year ago, and for me it was a watershed milestone. I’m now officially middle-aged. (I base this assumption upon the fact that 67 is the retirement age that the Social Security Administration deems you’ve slaved long enough to collect full benefits. I then add over two years to this number for that realization to actually sink in).
At the time of my birthday, I had no time to reflect or dwell, as my wife was in the hospital undergoing the second of two major surgeries to remove cancerous tumors from her mid-section, and my best friend was in another hospital barely cheating death with a nasty bout of lymphoblastic leukemia. Also, it was Venezuelan Flag Day, which for socialist Hugo-philes like myself is equivalent of Christmas and Bastille Day rolled into one.
Now that things have slowed down a bit, I’m now awash in the morass of listlessness and depression that accompanies the gradual march towards death. Also, my Arizona Wildcats are in danger of missing the NCAA men’s basketball tournament for the first time in 24 years, and Mike Huckabee is no longer a viable candidate for the Republican presidential nominee, which means that we will not have a candidate this year that believed Man and Dinosaur both existed at the same time. Calgon, take me away.
You know you’re old if:
- You reach for salt in your kitchen and realize—in addition to kosher and iodized salt—you have 9 types of sea salt
- After your daughter knocks your beer chalice off the table and breaks the glass, spilling witbier all over the carpet and sofa, causing your wife to yell at you for playing ball in the house, you realize at this point in your life there’s pretty much nothing she can say or do to ever make you stop
- Dinner and a movie becomes just dinner or just a movie and then becomes sitting on the couch with a laptop and yelling at the Internet
- If in previous decades you used to look in the mirror and see promise and potential, you now remark to yourself, “Wow, time to tame those nose hairs”
- You remember when rap music didn’t suck
- You’re thinking about rehab because the first one didn’t “take”
- Your anger and resentment transgresses from players and the coach and shoots up the vitriol hierarchy to the actual baseball GMs themselves
- You have a food blog
- You stop and consider the full implications of amortization
- You get replacement earphones for your iPod because you feel self-conscious with white earbuds in public
- You are resentful that another one of your friends is getting married, not because you’re losing a friend to marriage or that it reminds you that everybody’s getting older, but because you’re compelled to go to Las Vegas and suffer through a punishing weekend
- You foment a fondness for a certain brand of toilet paper
- You take the bus downtown on New Year’s Eve and realize everybody on the bus is younger than you and has spent more money on their clothes
- Flipping through the channels, you come across Suze Orman and don’t immediately change the channel
- You call up your mobile phone provider and yell at them for the 3rd time to remove incoming text capabilities from your device
- You need a vacation to recover from your vacation
- You have a difficult time keeping track of which celebrities are dead or alive
- You reflexively spew invectives at anybody who tells you to visit their MySpace page
- While paging through the recorded episodes on your DVR, you realize that it’s 50% PBS shows—including Ruff Ruffman, Frontline, and Clifford the Big Red Dog
- You develop curmudgeonly insane rationalizations, such as “I’ll reduce my carbon footprint the moment somebody perfects microwave pizza”
- You’ve rearranged your garage for the third time in as many months
- One of your favorite bands is playing, and you say “I’ll just catch them next time they come to town on the back leg of the current tour” and the band either breaks up or dies before you can do so
- Your skepticism is no longer reserved for standard, questionable precepts such as Religion and Government, and instead trades in theories related to the systemic suppression of Monosodium Glutamate
Lawmaker: USDA shouldn’t cover food safety. (MSNBC)
A lawmaker called Tuesday for the U.S. Department of Agriculture to be stripped of its responsibility for food safety in the wake of the nation’s largest-ever meat recall.
The agency’s twin mandates of promoting the nation’s agriculture and monitoring it for safety have become blurred, Rep. Rosa L. DeLauro said.
“Food safety ought to be of a high enough priority in this nation that we have a single agency that deals with it and not an agency that is responsible for promoting a product, selling a product and then as an afterthought dealing with how our food supply is safe,” said DeLauro, a Connecticut Democrat who chairs the House subcommittee responsible for the USDA’s funding.
Hard to say if a new bureaucratic arm of the federal government is the answer, but it’s clear the present system is broken. The market has decided: we don’t care if you die.
SobeWire: The 2008 Golden Clog Nominees Announced!. (Eater)
Michael Ruhlman and Tony Bourdain have concocted The Golden Clog Awards (Ruhlman has previously announced as much on his blog), a quirky little awards event born out of “too many beers and late night yakitori,” as Bourdain explained to Eater yesterday. The awards ceremony, or “awards ceremony,” will take place this Friday at 2:00 PM in Miami Beach, as part of the 2008 South Beach Wine & Food Festival, which does lend a certain, frightening air of credibility to the proceedings.
One of the awards, “The Mario”, goes to “the chef/restaurateur who best multi-tasked, multi-platformed, merchandised, whored himself, or opened multi-units (either while impaired–or not) and yet STILL managed to protect the quality of the mothership–while continuing to make valuable contributions to the restaurant landscape.” The nominees for the award? Tom Collichio, Thomas Keller, and Mario Batali.
It would be wonderfully ironic if he fails to win the award that is named in his honor. I would suspect nothing less from Tony Bourdain.
Smells like shit. Hillary’s campaign is an utter train wreck.
“But you know in the end, don’t vote your fears. I’m stealing this line from my buddy (Massachusetts Gov.) Deval Patrick who stole a whole bunch of lines from me when he ran for the governorship, but it’s the right one, don’t vote your fears, vote your aspirations. Vote what you believe.”
—Barack Obama, December 21, 2007
Does anybody at ABC read their own blog?
Your tacos or your life! (Yahoo! News)
A hunger for carnitas nearly led to some carnage after a Fontana man was robbed of a bag of tacos at gunpoint. Police Sergeant Jeff Decker said the 35-year-old victim had just bought about $20 in tacos from a street-corner stand Sunday night and was bicycling home when the suspect confronted him and said “Give me your tacos.”
Decker said the suspect grabbed the bag of food, punched the victim in the face and began to flee.
When the victim demanded his tacos back, the suspect pointed what appeared to be a handgun at the man and threatened to kill him before running away.
This was categorized under “Odd News”. I did not find it odd at all.
In fact, I’m 35-years old, own a bicycle, AND enjoy carnitas, especially in street taco form. This is very, very scary and really hits home. We have lost a bit of our collective innocence.
There must be some extra laws we can pass or some shared sacrifice we can endure in order to make sure this never happens again. Join your local vigilante street justice group, mentor a young person, or distribute radishes and limes to the underprivileged. Do something.
“A life spent making mistakes is not only more honorable but more useful than a life spent doing nothing.” — George Bernard Shaw
Cadbury thinks out of the box with ‘eco-egg’. (Guardian UK)
Cadbury Schweppes, which makes half of Britain’s Easter eggs, is trialling an unboxed “eco-egg” as part of its efforts to reduce 30% of its carbon emissions by 2020.
The foil-wrapped, hollowed out eggs are being sold under the Mini Eggs, Dairy Milk and Dairy Milk Caramel labels from moulded plastic casing preventing the eggs from rolling around on the shelf.
Cadbury said it was confident there was significant demand for such an offering despite the fact that many eggs are bought as gifts.
The global warming canard is so pervasive it now threatens how we enjoy Easter. I promise that for every Cadbury eco-terrorist chocolate confection sold, I will personally operate my lawn mower for 30 seconds.
We must alternately eat PEEPS® in order to save America, properly acknowledge the resurrection of Jesus, and heal the wounds of humanity.
Luckily, before then there’s St. Patrick’s Day and we can get totally trashed.
USDA Makes Nation’s Largest Beef Recall. (AP)
The U.S. Department of Agriculture on Sunday recalled 143 million pounds of frozen beef from a California slaughterhouse, the subject of an animal-abuse investigation, that provided meat to school lunch programs.
Officials said it was the largest beef recall in the United States, surpassing a 1999 ban of 35 million pounds of ready-to-eat meats. No illnesses have been linked to the newly recalled meat, and officials said the health threat was likely small.
The recall will affect beef products dating to Feb. 1, 2006, that came from Chino-based Westland/Hallmark Meat Co., the federal agency said.
Hallmark Meat Co.?
I may not approve of her Bill-n-Chelsea pimpin’ strategy or the asshat consultants she surrounds herself with, but I could get behind this policy.
Cocoa bean harvest puts kids at risk despite chocolate makers’ efforts. (Canadian Press via Topix)
Instead of rich and creamy sweetness, chocolate’s aftertaste may be stomach-turning bitterness once consumers learn that poor farmers are forced to use child labour to harvest cocoa beans.
Even as the chocolate industry is trying to curb unsavoury cocoa-farming practices in Ivory Coast and Ghana, Canadian aid workers, among others, are disappointed in the industry’s snail’s pace at dealing with the issue.
The Westminster Kennel Club gave a long-awaited Best in Show this year to a beagle.
As my own beagle would say, “It’s about fucking time, bitch.”
US store chain cuts sales of food from China. (Yahoo! News)
US grocery chain Trader Joe’s said Monday it would stop selling food imported from China due to customers’ concerns about the products’ safety.
“Our customers have voiced concerns about products from this region and we have listened,” Trader Joe’s spokeswoman Alison Mochizuki said in a statement.
“All single ingredient food items sourced from mainland China sre scheduled to be out of our stores by April 1,” she said.
“We will continue to source products from other regions until our customers feel as confident as we do about the quality and safety of Chinese products.”
I watched Obama speak tonight in Wisconsin. That is, until the disgustingly craven 24-hour news network1 I was tuned into switched over to McCain speak in front of some old guy in a $4k suit.
The contrast couldn’t be more stark. Like the difference between well-marbled Waygu and cube steak.
1Amy Holmes and John King are really some of the worst people on network news. At least the cretins on Fox News don’t try to pretend.
The 20 Worst Foods in America. (Men’s Health).
What’s the worst?
Outback Steakhouse Aussie Cheese Fries with Ranch Dressing
- 2,900 calories
- 182 g fat
- 240 g carbs
Who would have thought fried potatoes covered in cheese and dipped in pure fat would be so bad for you? I may have to re-examine the bacon-gizzard protein shakes I usually have for breakfast.
I’ve always harbored a bit of doubt about the handmade corn tortillas I’ve seen over the years on the shelves at Trader Joe’s. They seemed too thick, too…stone ground to be a good foil for the taco meats I prepare in my home. I feared that — as fat and earthy as they appeared to be — the tortillas themselves would be too toothsome and dry, like eating whole kernals of raw corn.
Boy, was I wrong.
These are suprisingly great tortillas. They need to be heated on a dry, flat pan, over high heat, for at least 30 seconds per side. Flip and back and forth to get good reheat coverage.
Here they are enveloping some recent carne seca tacos (recipe to come soon). With many taqueria-style tortillas, it’s essential to double up the flats in order to have them hold up throughout the meal to the fillings and garnishes.
These TJ tortillas hold their own as a singular entity.
Even on the last taco, at the mid-taco event, the tortillas still are doing the job. I believe they would perform the heavy lifting for a good huevos rancheros.
Trader Joe’s Handmade Corn Tortillas
Available at a Trader Joes near you
The world’s rubbish dump: a garbage tip that stretches from Hawaii to Japan (Independent UK).
A “plastic soup” of waste floating in the Pacific Ocean is growing at an alarming rate and now covers an area twice the size of the continental United States, scientists have said.
The vast expanse of debris – in effect the world’s largest rubbish dump – is held in place by swirling underwater currents. This drifting “soup” stretches from about 500 nautical miles off the Californian coast, across the northern Pacific, past Hawaii and almost as far as Japan.
Charles Moore, an American oceanographer who discovered the “Great Pacific Garbage Patch” or “trash vortex”, believes that about 100 million tons of flotsam are circulating in the region. Marcus Eriksen, a research director of the US-based Algalita Marine Research Foundation, which Mr Moore founded, said yesterday: “The original idea that people had was that it was an island of plastic garbage that you could almost walk on. It is not quite like that. It is almost like a plastic soup. It is endless for an area that is maybe twice the size as continental United States.”
“We’re in so deep that it doesn’t seem like anything will help,” said Rebekah Ao, 33, a pregnant homemaker who lives in a new four-bedroom home in Avondale with her husband, Otto, a truck driver. The Aos, with $50,000 in income, owe a total of $607,000 on mortgages for two houses they bought since they moved to the Phoenix area about two years ago.
Christ almighty, there’s so many things wrong with the above quote.
Poison Dumplings Kill Japanese Merger (Business Week)
The overnight slump in U.S. stocks was the overwhelming reason for Japan’s Nikkei 225 index plunging 4.7% on Feb. 6. But for Nissin Food Products, the company that brought the world instant noodles, it was the continuing fallout from a scandal over contaminated dumplings that sent shares into free fall, tumbling 8.5%.
Nissin’s stock is the latest innocent victim of a batch of tainted, Chinese-made gyoza dumplings, imported by Japan Tobacco’s food arm, which led to more than 10 cases of food poisoning. News of the poisonings broke last week (BusinessWeek.com, 1/31/08) and triggered a slew of recalls of products produced by Tianyang Food, the Chinese producer of the dumplings. A huge news story in Japan, the scandal also renewed fears among consumers over the safety of Chinese products.
Talking.
Damn, he’s good.
UPDATE: On another note, Huckabee’s wife owns a bedazzler.
Snack to the Future: The Col-Pop, an All-in-One Chicken Nugget and Soda Cup. (Serious Eats)
The plucky ingenuity and sheer optimism of the human spirit never ceases to amaze. Yes We Can.
Food Politics, Half-Baked. (NY Times)
A call-to-arms to…put down your arms.
One need look no further than the battle over genetically modified crops starting in the 1990s to understand how this language undermines the qualified benefits of biotech innovation. Without a hint of doubt, pro-biotech forces insisted that genetically modified crops would end hunger and eliminate the need for pesticides. Genetic modification was supposedly a harmless panacea that would save the planet. Industry not only promoted this fiction, but it scoffed at the prospects of product labeling, insisting that it was the product, not the process, that mattered.
This arrogant attitude spurred the anti-biotech forces to promote their own distortions. “Frankenfoods” became the term of choice for genetically modified crops. Chemical companies engaged in “biopiracy”; they were killers of monarch butterflies, engineers of future “superweeds,” and according to Jeremy Rifkin, the prominent biotech opponent, monopolizers of an insidious technology that posed “as serious a threat to the existence of life on the planet as the bomb itself.”
Taqueria Pico de Gallo sits squarely in the epicenter of South Tucson, on South 6th Avenue, a mile south of 22nd Avenue. South Tucson is an anomoly; it’s an enclave that covers roughly a square mile, and it’s surrounded entirely by the city of Tucson proper. South Tucson has its own municipal services and zoning regulations, and its own mayor and city council. Why they would want to do this is anybody’s guess. All I can say is that — despite having a crime rate higher than Camden, New Jersey (aka America’s most dangerous city and all-around fun zone) — the citizens of South Tucson obviously choose to live here because of the proximity to some good-ass tacos1.
Contrary to what some normally consider to be “pico de gallo”, namely, a salsa fresca made with chopped fresh tomatoes, the namesake in this instance refers to the deliciously fresh fruit cups served up by the taqueria (and sprinkled with chili salt).
They also serve these fruity, frozen raspados, which are coincidentally crafted…
…right next door.
Enough with food that is not tacos.
The breakfast menu.
The menu board.
The full menu luckily is available in the early AM (and from which I order breakfast when I’m in town).
This is the only table sauce they have on hand, a thick, incendiary concoction made from chile de arbol.
The taco plates are garnished with excellent pickled onions. The tortillas at Pico De Gallo are wonderful, thick, substantial discs of stoney masa goodness, freshly prepared on the premises. They are unlike any other Mexican restaurant in the Tucson area (which for the most part tilts towards flour as does Sonoran cuisine).
The tortillas here work together with a crispy, fried pillows of mild flesh to form one of the best fish tacos I’ve had, especially considering the nearest port is Puerto Penasco some 4 hours away in Mexico. The white sauce — normally a conceit I’ll even leave off my fish taco — here is a perfect foil for the fiery table salsa.
A decent asada.
Birria.
Barbacoa. These shredded meat tacos are a bit juicy/saucy, and tend to saturate the tortillas to the point where they have difficulty standing up. (This does not apply to the cabeza, which is shredded beef cheek and holds up well). However, the shredded meats are well prepared and are worth ordering — I would perhaps eat these first.
Here’s the proof that I paid for my meal.
Taqueria Pico de Gallo
2618 South 6th Avenue (Google Map)
85713 (
520)623-8775
Links
Footnotes
1 I lived just a mile-and-a-half north of South Tucson for a few years. I walked and biked all over the place, even late at night. It’s not that bad. I did get three bikes stolen.
In fact, I stayed just over a mile north of this place during my time in Tucson, at my wife’s godmother’s guest house.
The most dangerous thing I encountered was this cactus. This fucking evil plant ruined many an afternoon growing up, as while trying to catch an errant outlet pass you might end up in a patch, and hundreds of these miniscule, orange hair-like spines would attach to your lower calf with ferocity. Only a long soak in an oatmeal bath would temper the pain and suffering.
Pizza in a Cone: Crispycones (Slice).
I’d eat it.
Starbucks axes sandwiches as part of fix. (AP/Yahoo! News)
The scent of ham, eggs, cheese and bacon will soon stop competing with the aroma of coffee in Starbucks stores as hot breakfast sandwiches become the first casualty of the company’s battle to win back customers.
The sandwiches, which will disappear by this fall, boost a typical store’s annual revenue by $35,000, so pulling them off the menu will cost at first. Chairman and Chief Executive Howard Schultz said that proves the company isn’t letting the soft economy distract it from committing to big changes that will pay off over the long haul.
“The decision and the courage it takes to remove something when there’s pressure on the business — like the sandwiches — is emblematic that we’re going to build for the long-term and get back to the roots and the core of our heritage, which is the leading roaster of specialty coffee in the world,” Schultz told The Associated Press on Wednesday after the company released its financial results for the first fiscal quarter.
Whatever.
USDA to review Calif. slaughterhouse. (Associated Press)
Newly installed Agriculture Secretary Ed Schafer said the department was taking the allegations seriously after video footage showed workers at the Hallmark Meat Packing Co. repeatedly kicking cows and ramming them with the blades of a forklift as the animals squealed in pain.
Schafer said “appropriate actions will be taken” if violations are found in the facility but he said there was no evidence that the nation’s beef supply was at risk.
“There is no immediate health risk that we are aware of,” he said.
Hallmark, based in Chino, Calif., supplies the Westland Meat Co., which processes the carcasses. The facility is a major supplier to a USDA program that distributes beef to needy families, the elderly and to schools through the National School Lunch Program. Westland was named a USDA “supplier of the year” for 2004-2005 and has delivered beef to schools in 36 states.
The video, released Wednesday by The Humane Society of the United States after a six-week undercover investigation, also showed plant workers jabbing in the eyes and applying electrical shocks to the “downed” dairy cows — those who are too sick or injured to walk — in an effort to force them into the federally inspected slaughterhouse.
In one scene, the workers shoot high-intensity water sprays up the cows’ noses in what The Humane Society described as a form of animal “waterboarding,” or torture that simulates drowning.
Rethinking the Meat-Guzzler (Mark Bittman in the NY Times)
A SEA change in the consumption of a resource that Americans take for granted may be in store — something cheap, plentiful, widely enjoyed and a part of daily life. And it isn’t oil.
It’s meat.
The two commodities share a great deal: Like oil, meat is subsidized by the federal government. Like oil, meat is subject to accelerating demand as nations become wealthier, and this, in turn, sends prices higher. Finally — like oil — meat is something people are encouraged to consume less of, as the toll exacted by industrial production increases, and becomes increasingly visible.
A List of Regional Pizza Styles. (Slice)
Nice rundown here.
Lanvin French Bakery is located just behind the Phở Oregon on NE 82nd. As you access the back entrance to Phở Oregon from the parking lot, Lanvin occupies just a diminutive storefront but it’s impossible to miss.
First and foremost, Lanvin is a Vietnamese bakery. If you seen 6 packs of sandwich baguettes at any Asian store in the Portland metro area, look closely and you might find the Lanvin stamp on the package. In fact, I had a chicken parm sandwich from Pizza Fino once and the bread bore a strong resemblence to a Lanvin roll.
As with many things Vietnamese, Lanvin delves deep into Francophilia.
Here are some of the baked goods you’ll find:
In addition to savory items like banh bao (large, doughy steam cakes filled with a meat cake made from ground pork, dried mushrooms, Chinese sausage and hard-boiled egg which served as many a breakfast growing up), you’ll find…
Bánh mì. A small, focused selection.
The grilled pork. Nice amount of fat, and a decent meat ratio. The sandwich is dressed nicely. Lanvin gets major points for including a long cucumber slice and generous amounts of Maggi in this sandwich.
The bbq pork. This sandwich gets a spread of pate.
Unfortunately, I think the sandwich is dressed with too much mayo.
Lanvin makes a decent sandwich. I wouldn’t hesistate to grab a grilled pork when I’m in the area. However, I feel their bread is a bit too light and the texture a bit too airy, even when toasted nicely (which they do here), so it would be hard to choose Lanvin over Binh Minh, which is a couple miles away.
Lanvin French Bakery
8211 Ne Brazee St
Portland, OR 97220
(503) 252-0155
More learnin’
High Mercury Levels Are Found in Tuna Sushi (NY Times)
Recent laboratory tests found so much mercury in tuna sushi from 20 Manhattan stores and restaurants that at most of them, a regular diet of six pieces a week would exceed the levels considered acceptable by the Environmental Protection Agency.
Sushi from 5 of the 20 places had mercury levels so high that the Food and Drug Administration could take legal action to remove the fish from the market. The sushi was bought by The New York Times in October.
Add cream cheese in a maki roll named after some erstwhile American municipality and all of a sudden eating sushi in America insults the diner on many levels.
Posts will be light around here for a while. HBO has chosen this month to premiere Norbit.
In the meantime, let us both hope your 401k still exists when we talk again.
I went to high school and college in Tucson, Arizona, and my mom and my wife’s parents still reside in the desert, so I make it back often.
When I had an office on Congress street in the early aughts, we were a very short walk from Little Cafe Poca Cosa, and thus spent many a morning there eating my favorite dish, pork chile colorado. It was a great desayuno. And sometimes lunch too.
Little Cafe Poca Cosa is not to be confused with Cafe Poca Cosa the elder, which is a decidely much more upscale affair at a different downtown location.
Some real estate snafu has forced the little cafe to move from its former hole-in-the-wall locale to this spot on Stone Avenue adjacent to the Tucson public library.
Speaking of the Tucson public library…what the hell is this?
The interior is a bit sparse, but larger (by a factor of two) than the previous place.
The folks at Little Poca Cosa (it is owned and operated by a family with deep roots in Southern Arizona) are very socially conscious. They continually raise money for good causes, and invite their guests to help out. Dropping a buck after a meal into the till really does help you karmically correct yourself before you wreck yourself.
The breakfast menu.
The lunch menu.
As soon as you’re seated, you’re greeted by chips and salsa.
My old mainstay, the pork chili colorado. Like visiting with an old girlfriend, only without the restraining orders.
All lunch plates are served with a simple but satisfying rice, and a colorful salad.
The dressing for the salad — a nice, herby vinagrette — sits on the table, allowing you to douse to your heart’s content.
Plates are served with your own personal tortilla warmer…
…with your own personal stash of tortillas and…
…these wonderfully cooked pinto beans on the side.
So how was it? Good, just as I remember, though a bit more mild than I recall. My M.O. is to douse and eat the salad, then drop a few pieces of pork into the tortillas and garnish with salsa and eat those as impromptu tacos.
Finally, the last step is to eat the rice, which — when combined with the leftover salad dressing mixed with red chili sauce — becomes sublime.
Just outside the door you’ll find this steampunk public art installation. I like touching it.
Best Baguette is the splashy entrant into the PDX bánh mì universe, the hair-sprayed cousin with manicured nails, knock-off couture, and shiny new car. Modeled after some of the trendy sandwich emporiums indigenous to Southern California (i.e. Lee’s Sandwiches), Best Baguette instantly sets itself apart from mom-n-pop bánh mì shops with its conspicious ambition. For one thing, it has a drive-thru. A drive-thru!
They got signage and everything, and somebody is shelling out serious coin at the local reprographics shop, as these promotional banners attest. The main promo banner tells me if I order like 13 sandwiches I will score an iced coffee.
Their menu wall is in color. They feature many flavors of boba. I have no interest in boba, as I am not a communist.
Notice how the photo for the Chicken Salad sandwich is absent. Maybe it was sick on yearbook photo day.
Here’s some thumbnails of the menu. In addition to a full range of Vietnamese specialties, including a sardine option, many Americanized/Euro versions are offered. Again, I know not what these sandwiches are like, as, alas, I am not a fascist. Though I am strangely intrigued by the “savory shrimp in a new form of sandwich”. Who wouldn’t be?
One thing that bugs me about Best Baguette is that they pack their garnishes in a seperate, plastic bag. For one thing, it’s a needless waste. Secondly, it affects the material composition of the sandwich. Ask them to pack that shit in there.
How’s the sandwich? Very good. It is one of the longer Vietnamese sandwiches you’ll find, though the baguette itself is much more narrow than others. Their bread has improved since their opening days.
You’ll also find frozen iced treats of some sort. I haven’t ordered any, probably for the same reason I wouldn’t order a sardine sandwich at Mio Gelato.
Best Baguette is also a bakery, selling various breads…
…including these monstrous yeast amalgamations that look like they’re swiped from the set of Pan’s Labrynth.
The baguettes themselves are great when you want to indulge in a childhood treat, in this case the french bread pizza, which got me through many a lonely night during puberty.
Summary: Best Baguette makes a decent sandwich. With Binh Minh just a quarter-mile away, it’s hard to opt over that if you’re talking pure quality, but Best Baguette has a wider selection, it has a drive-through, and its glossy, Westernized modernity sometimes is a nice change of pace. Also, Best Baguette keeps good hours, serving sandwiches into the evening.
Best Baguette
8308 SE Powell Blvd
Portland, OR 97266
(503) 788-3098
Google map
CONGRESSIONAL FOOD FIGHT? (MSNBC)
The presidential race is not the only place where change is an issue.
Members of Congress returning to the Capitol this week are being confronted by transformational happenings that have shaken the building to its foundations: Democrats have hired a new company to run cafeteria services. Naturally, this has caused an outbreak of partisan skirmishing.“I like real food,” proclaimed Republican leader John Boehner when asked about the new menu by a producer for another cable news outfit. “Food that I can pronounce the name of.”
Boehner is now forced to wrap his lips around such phrases as “broccoli rabe and shaved persimmon,” “balsamic glazed butternut squash,” and “calico pinto beans”…all on this afternoon’s menu, along with the downright patriotic “American Regional Yankee Pot Roast,” which, even Boehner would have to admit, kind of rolls right off the tongue. On Fridays, there is a real sushi bar tended by a bona fide Japanese sushi chef. Gone are such grade-school cafeteria specialties as Salisbury steak and fried chicken, slathered in gravy and served with a side of chips. Debate rages among regulars about the merits of the new offerings. One consensus downside: the prices have gone upscale right along with the fare.
A drink a day for a longer life: study. (Yahoo! News)
Drinking is healthy, exercise is healthy, and doing a little of both is even healthier, Danish researchers reported on Wednesday.
People who neither drink nor exercise have a 30 to 49 percent higher risk of heart disease than people who do one or both of the activities, the researchers said in the European Heart Journal.
“The main finding is there seems to be an additional beneficial effect of drinking one to two drinks per day and doing at least moderate physical activity,” said Morten Gronbaek of the University of Southern Denmark, who led the study.
Stewart: Is this cynical by the Republican party? They use the evangelical bloc to kinda put them over the top… its almost like… do you watch the Simpsons?
Frum: I’m afraid to say, yes.
Stewart: Ned Flanders. Yeah thats great, you like having him around because he’ll do all the leg work, but when it comes down to it you want President Homer.
Frum: I don’t think we want President Homer.
Stewart: We have President Homer.
Consumer Reports review of hot dogs finds so-called “nitrate-free” hot dogs are…not so much.
If you thought you were doing the right thing by selecting chicken or turkey franks or uncured dogs with no added nitrates, think again. Our tests found they did not all deserve a health halo. While three of the four regular poultry dogs we rated had 30 to 80 fewer calories than the average of beef and mixed meat dogs, the other poultry frank had as many calories as beef. And most had plenty of fat and sodium. While the three uncured franks might boast of “no added nitrates,” our testing found that Applegate Farms, Coleman Natural, and Whole Ranch contained nitrates and nitrites at levels comparable to many of the cured models.
…
Our analysis found that the nitrates and nitrites in all the hot dogs we tested were well below the maximum level for the additives established by the USDA. While a hot dog can be labeled uncured if no nitrates or nitrites have been added, that does not necessarily mean the product is free of them. The three uncured models we tested contained nitrites and nitrates because the compounds occur naturally in spices and other natural ingredients added during processing.
The Invisible Ingredient in Every Kitchen.
Harold McGee turns up the heat.
Why do all the people who have herpes seem really fucking hot?
Maybe I need to get herpes.
This is essentially a red chili stew that can be made with either pork or beef. The key here is low and slow, and long, which allows the collagen of the meat to break down and become fall-apart tender. My adaptation here is fairly spicy; you might want to tone it down if you’re trying this at home.
The can of commercially made chili sauce may sound like an unnecessary shortcut to you. That’s your right. You’re entitled to your opinion. I just like the way it sort of “rounds” things off. You could omit and increase the liquid and dried/powdered chili if you feel like riding that high horse.
Carne Guisado
- 3 pounds beef shank, beef chuck, or pork shoulder, trimmed of excess fat (probably around 2 1/2 pounds), cut into one inch pieces
- Flour
- Vegetable oil
- 1 28 oz can Mexican brand red chili sauce (such as Las Palmas)
- 1 1/2 cups beef broth
- 4 dried guajillo chilies, stem and seeds removed
- 1 onion, chopped
- 7 cloves garlic, forced through garlic press
- 1/2 teaspoon pasilla chili powder
- 1/2 teaspoon chile de arbol powder
- 1/2 teaspoon new mexico chili powder
- 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
- 1/2 teaspoon ground coriander
- 3 bay leaves
- 2 dried habanero peppers, stemmed
- 1/4 bunch of cilantro, torn
Preheat oven to 250 degrees.
Put guajillo chilies in a small saucepan and cover with 1 cup of beef broth. Simmer on low for 20 minutes. Remove chilies to cool.
Split the chilies, and using the back of your knife, scrape the flesh from the inside of chili. Discard the skin.
Put meat pieces into a large mixing bowl and dust with flour, and mix to coat lightly. Heat vegetable oil in cast iron dutch oven, and brown beef.
Add the the rest of the ingredients, stir to mix, and bring to a rapid simmer.
Cover and transfer to oven. Wait 2.5 hours, remove cover, stir, and return to the oven for another hour. Make sure you don’t eat those habaneros.
There are a couple ways I like to consume this. One way, as you can see in the first photo in this post, is with a mildly seasoned rice.
Rice
- 1 cup long grain white rice
- 1 1/2 cup low-sodium chicken broth
- 1/2 white onion
- 1 garlic clove, minced
- 1 tablespoon or so vegetable oil
- 1 teaspoon anatto seeds
- 1/4 teaspoon cumin
- 1/4 teaspoon coriander
- 1 teaspoon kosher salt
Put oil in small saucepan, add anatto seeds, and allow the seeds to perfume/color the oil over low heat for ten minutes. Drain oil into large saucepan and throw away the seeds.
Heat oil over medium heat, add onion and sweat. Add rice, garlic, spices, and saute for a couple minutes. Pour over broth, stir, cover, and simmer over low for 15 minutes. Turn off heat and allow to sit for half an hour. Remove cover and fluff rice.
Another option I enjoy is shredding the meat with a fork.
And enjoying it in taco format with your favorite table salsas and chopped onion/cilantro.
Or the next morning fry up a couple corn tortillas and an egg. Put the egg on top of the tortilla, top with shredded stew meat, add a few spoonfuls of the sauce, top with queso fresco, and put under the broiler for 30 seconds. Top with chopped onion/cilantro and a squirt of hot salsa.
With Thursday’s vote bearing down on us, the well-coiffed gentleman from North Carolina must be relieved to learn that John Edwards has earned the Democratic Iowa Caucus endorsement from yours truly.
His recent firebrand-ed populism and well-established no hairdresser-left-behind policy has won me over.
As far as New Hampshire is concerned, I might jump ship to Mike Gravel. Politics is a fickle mistress.
On the Republican side, the editorial team here at Guilty Carnivore is firmly ensconced in the candidacy of one Mike Huckabee. His core belief that man and dinosaur together roamed the earth six thousand years ago clearly captures the imagination of idealism (and wisely secures the “Cha-Ka” vote).
As a side note, what the fuck is a “caucus”? And why do I feel ashamed whenever the term is uttered?
Just north of Powell on Southest 82nd Avenue lies Fubonn, the pearl of Portland’s Orient. Actually, it’s just a really big store.
Fubonn itself is actually at the back of Fubonn Plaza. The wide hallway that leads to its doors is flanked by a beauty salon, an A/V store, jeweler, Malay Satay Hut.
The produce department features a wide selection.
Including a nice variety of choys.
Excellent pricing can be found on things like mushrooms…
And asparagus.
In the freezer case you’ll find the largest variety of mock meats in Portland.
And if you need the real stuff, Fubonn has a nice variety of dead animals, with many cuts favored by Asian cooks, like pork belly, eye-of-round, brisket, pork picnic, pork loins, beef shanks, etc.
Their fish department has a tremoundous selection of whole fishes. Read my previous comment about the meat and apply it to the fish X2.
A few aisles dedicated to housewares is quite handy for those looking to get their gear on.
The deli features read-to-eat Vietnamese dishes such as sour fish stew (aka canh chua), meat-stuffed bitter melon, caramel catfish, among others, and…
…some incredibly cheap banh mi. Even at this price, they are not really worth it. The ready-to-eat stuff at Fubonn consistently looks better than it actually is, including…
…this fried fish and…
…these goi cuon. Meh.
But Fubonn really shines because of their wonderful variety of grocery, as this photo of the instant noodle aisle attests.
This could very well be the most racist instant ramen I’ve ever encountered.
So how did it taste? Racistly delicious.
Fubonn Shopping Center
2850 SE 82nd Avenue Suite #80
Portland, OR
97266
Who at Burger King thought it was a good idea to punk their most loyal customers?
And speaking of said customers, they really need to prioritize their affairs, reassess their lives, and perhaps explore their own happy place full of unicorns and kittens.
Here’s some Cameo for you serfs.
Here’s some wookies.
Some asshole from Men’s Health magazine is telling Ann Curry that shrimp cocktail is less fattening than crab cakes and that candy canes have less calories than chocolate and that ham is healthier than a well-marbled steak. Apparently, he has a book called “Eat This, Don’t Eat That.”
Next segment will feature a relationship expert advising you to avoid meth-addicted, self-fellatio enthusiasts who suffer from Munchausen Syndrome.
Amen, brother.
Just a half mile south from “main street downtown” Tigard lies Sanchez Taqueria. This unassuming Mexican restaurant that speckles the 99W corridor might serve the best goddamn tacos in the Portland metropolitan area.
Sanchez Taqueria is packed on the weekends, with a lively crowd that squeezes into the small dining area. Tables on occasion will be shared with strangers, making this possibly a “communal” dining experience.
Lucky enough for me eating tacos is a mostly a drag race affair.
The menu board at Sanchez Taqueria. (Click here to view the menu (PDF, 667 KB)
The taco triumvarite. You’ll notice things are a bit different here. The tacos themselves are staggered upon themselves, and — at first glance — you can’t even see the fillings.
First off, let’s talk about the tortillas. They are made on the premises. They are amazing. Fluffy, flatbread-like pillows of white corn goodness. I had to flag down a runner to confirm that they were indeed corn — they seemed too impossibly doughy (for lack of a better word) to be masa. They are almost pita-ish. In all my taco eating travails, these tortillas rank at the very top of the deliciousness scale.
The green and red sauce. The green is amazing — immediately salty and piquant, with a noticeable afterburn. On the whole the green table sauce actually packs more punch than the red, which itself is delicious and imparts a lovely smokiness due (I think) to chipolte and roasted dried (guajillo?) chilies.
The tables also feature this fiery chili paste, with an oil base. This is for the menudo/posole/sopa, which is quite popular on weekends. I’m afraid to put this on my tacos, as my cranium is already sieving sweat whenever I leave this place.
Carnitas. Not the absolute best carnitas I’ve had, but definitely serviceable if not delicious in its own right.
Pastor. This is ethereal. A meat triumph. Crispy, succinct nuggets of seasoned pork. A literal taco supernova.
Fully dressed asada taco. The carne, like everything else, is top notch. Seasoned to the hilt.
Since in past taco surveys I’ve been forced to include pescado, to be fair here’s Sanchez’s fish taco (which weighs in at $2.25). As you can see, it’s hardly baja in style. It’s a flat grilled/fried, non-battered tilapia filet topped simply with a chiffonade of white cabbage (which also dressed the carnitas) and cilantro. It, too, makes an amazing taco at the hands of the taqueros at Sanchez Taqueria.
The tortillas here are large and generous, even so that the ample meat fillings can be enveloped and eaten bite-by-bite like pillowy wraps of crispy, deliciously filled meaty crepes. Each bite can be accentuated with generous and alternating squirts of red and green flavor injections. Though tacos approach $2 apiece, the value can’t be underestimated. These are easily 2x other taqueris/trucks, with the added bonus being some of the most superlative tortillas your teeth will ever bite into.
I’ve fallen completely for Sanchez Taqueria. It easily is one of Portland’s best taquerias, if not Mexican restaurants. Worth to note: they have huaraches and chavindecas (NOTE THIS LINKS TO A PDF OF THE MENU).
Sanchez Taqueria
13050 SW Pacific Hwy
Tigard, OR 97223
Phone: (503) 684-2838
This past summer I spent some time in Clackamas, just southeast of Portland, as my wife was recovering for a couple weeks from surgery at the far southeast (Sunnyside) Kaiser Permanente.
On SE 82nd there’s a nice Vietnamese restaurant called Pho Huy. It’s just a few doors down from Penzey’s spices.
The interior is a bit more “polished” than most divey Vietnamese restaurants in town (Pho Van notwithstanding).
The garnish platter that accompanies an order of pho tai chin is pretty sparse. Just a sprig of basil, no ngo gai (aka culuntro). As with many places, the jalapenos are mild and impart very little in terms of accentuation. At least the lime wedge was fairly large.
The soup. The top round is sliced thin and is served farely rare, so Pho Huy gets bonus points here.
The brisket here was very tender and flavorful. Overall, the pho is decent. I would consider it middle-of-the road in terms of Pho options in the Portland area. Everything is done well enough, it’s just not blowing my mind. The broth is a bit overstated rather than balanced, with too much of an emphasis on cinnamon/star anise. But I would certainly down a bowl if I was visiting Penzeys to get my spice on. At $7.50/bowl, the soup here occuppies the upper-end of Portland pho pricing.
On another occasion I ordered goi cuon to start with (with nuoc mam aka cham instead of the hoisin/peanut, as is the preferred way of those who aren’t communists), and had the bun thit tom (grilled shrimp and pork).
The goi cuon was fresh and decent. For $4.50, they are quite small and I would consider them a ripoff, when compared to other places in town. Also, there was no mint (or herbs for that matter — just lettuce), however, there was caramelized shallots rolled in between the shrimp and pork, which added a nice, unexpected flavor. The meats were fresh, not off tasting, so major points for that.
The rice noodle dish was good, I must admit. I enjoyed my bun thit here more than I’ve enjoyed it at Banh Cuon Tanh Dinh, which the conventional wisdom commonly decrees one of the best Viet places in town.
The dish featured three medium, grilled shrimp on a skewer. The shrimp were mildly flavored, but fresh. The pork (loin) featured boneless broad slices that had been marinated, grilled and then sliced. This seems to be the style many places employ (I prefer the style where paper thin slices of fatty pork are threaded unto a skewer, grilled, and then de-skewered). The marinade is rather mild in approach, probably fish sauce, sugar, and a smattering of lemongrass.
The noodles were nice and room temperature, and the vegetable garnishes are very fresh. Again, no mint (though there was cilantro). I can’t see how any Vietnamese restaurant in Portland would not use mint when it proliferates at every Southeast Asian market, where you can pick up spearmint, perilla, etc., for sometimes under a buck a bunch. Eating Vietnamese bun dishes, goi cuon, and bun rieu without mint is like having sex missionary style while still wearing your shirt and socks. In fact, it’s worse. It’s more like a dry hump.
That said, I fairly enjoyed the bun…the nuoc mam “cham” was somewhat mild, but I’m a freak, and I was able to punch it up with the chili and fish sauces on the table. Again, at $7.95 it’s a modest portion, so it’s not the best value in terms of Vietnamese food in the Portland area.
The owner here has a reputation I guess for being “pushy”. I could see how some people could get the impression, but I think she’s just being a bit overly helpful, which can be overbearing (since I look somewhat indeterminately ethnic and ordered using my best Viet Kieu patois I was spared). Since a majority of dishes coming out of the kitchen were bun, she was doing her best to guide Mr. and Mrs. Whitey Q. Caucasian in terms of dressing the noodles appropriately with the nuoc mam “cham”, playing the role of the patronizingly altruistic Asian hostess. She would describe the sauce as a “spicy chili vinagrette”, without mentioning the presence of fish sauce that serves as the base, which is something I’ve been guilty of in the past, including in the fifth grade when I brought my mom’s cha gio to our classroom potluck.
Pho Huy
11342 SE 82nd Ave
Happy Valley, OR 97086
(503) 353-6646
Huckabee, Back in Iowa, Brings Christmas Message. (NY Times)
“Who is your favorite author?” Aleya Deatsch, 7, of West Des Moines asked Mr. Huckabee in one of those posing-like-a-shopping-mall-Santa moments.
Mr. Huckabee paused, then said his favorite author was Dr. Seuss.
In an interview afterward with the news media, Aleya said she was somewhat surprised. She thought the candidate would be reading at a higher level.
“My favorite author is C. S. Lewis,” she said.
Issues with Portland’s own McCormick & Schmick’s
Shares of McCormick & Schmick’s Seafood Restaurants Inc. sank to their lowest level in more than three years Friday after the company cut its fourth-quarter and full-year earnings guidance because of weak traffic.
The company is the latest restaurant operator to either slash its guidance or warn investors of weak earnings due to slow sales and traffic. Earlier this week, shares of Ruby Tuesday Inc., Ruth’s Chris Steak House Inc. and Darden Restaurants Inc. – which operates the Olive Garden and Red Lobster chains – hit new lows after telling investors upcoming earnings would not meet expectations.
UPDATE: Via Eschaton, does the Steakhouse Index portend a sluggish future for the overall economy?
A look at the six-month chart of the same stock and the S&P 500 shows how the steakhouses could function as economic indicators. Note the outperformance in the first quarter and the underperformance in the second quarter. Steakhouses thrive on expense accounts. Their sales are tied to the exuberance of (mostly) men in the corporate world, and their business is largely discretionary.
Tony Bourdain Would Pimp for Prada. (Chowhound)
What about a place like Mario’s with the Spotted Pig? Let’s say Fergus [Henderson] wanted to open a place?
Fergus? I’d do anything with Fergus. Anytime. Blind. I don’t care. We could kill 17-year-olds with regularity! I will personally serve 17-year-olds if I’m in business with Fergus!
101 Simple Appetizers in 20 Minutes or Less
Mark Bittman dishes in NY Times.
Knife At Lunch Gets 10-Year-Old Girl Arrested At School
School officials say the 5th grader was brown-bagging it. She brought a piece of steak for her lunch, but she also brought a steak knife. That’s when deputies were called.
It happened in the cafeteria at Sunrise Elementary School. The 10-year-old used the knife to cut the meat.
“She did not use it inappropriately. She did not threaten anyone with it. She didn’t pull it out and brandish it. Nothing of that nature,” explained Marion County School Spokesman Kevin Christian.
But a couple of teachers took the utensil and called the sheriff. When deputies arrived, they were unable to get the child’s parents on the phone, so they arrested her and took her to the county’s juvenile assessment center.
It’s hard to be a carne-gangsta. Via BoJack, who is running a worthy charity drive on his blog today.
“Ciuppin” @Basta’s.
The original version of ciopino made on the Ligurian coast. Fresh clams, mussels, calamari, shrimp and other seasonal fresh fish sauteed with garlic, onion, parsley white wine served over garlic crostini. 17
Was good. I like Basta’s. They are often overlooked as Portland falls all over itself to out-sustain each other, but do a good job.
The head of that langoustine was tasty. Though sucking the head of a large shellfish, loudly, in a public place, is sort of weird thing to do.
Basta’s Trattoria
410 NW 21st Ave
Portland, OR 97209
(503) 274-1572
Senate Drops Measure to Greatly Reduce Sugar and Fat in Food at Schools (Washington Post)
Concerns on both sides of the aisle held up the vote, an aide to Harkin said. Some Democrats objected to federal preemption of stricter state standards, while Republicans had concerns about restrictions on snack foods, he said.
Harkin indicated that he is not giving up. “We’re coming back with that,” the senator said. “We have a lot of support for it.”
The amendment would have banned most candy, cakes and cookies, staples of today’s school snack bars. Sugary beverages, considered one of the main causes of teenage obesity, would also have been restricted. Serving sizes and calories for all drinks, with the exception of bottled water, were to be capped.
I remember in Junior High eating tons of pizza boats, chimichangas, and mystery burgers. Every kid deserves to suffer the same fate.
Now that the Carl Jr’s Portabello Mushroom $6 Burger now actually almost costs, well, $6, shouldn’t they rebrand it?
Like the “Wanna-be Red Robin Sans Flair Burger” or the “Bovine Spongiform Meat Puck”? Or at least index it to the Euro?
DIY cookbooks, Tastebook style.
Pretty damn cool.
At $1.50 for a carnitas, and for asada and pastor tacos clocking in at nearly 2 bucks ($1.95), the tacos at La Bonita occupy the upper-end of the taco price scale. However, for what you’re getting, it’s a pretty fair deal.
The taco triumvarite.
Asada. The meat was simultaneously tender and crispy. Nice, ample chunks of carne splendor.
Pastor. Expertly scented pork nuggets seasoned with achiote. Again, tender and bountiful. Excellent.
Carnitas. Perfect, meaty chunks of fall-apart tender pork, slightly greasy, as it should be. A quintessential carnivorous flavor.
A fully dress asada taco. The green table sauce is tangy, with a lovely saltiness. The red sauce has changed since my last visit. It used to be a fiery, intense red sauce made predominately from chilies. The recent version has a tomato component, and is much more subdued. Not as intense as I’d prefer, but delicious nonetheless. I would eat it with chips.
The toning down of the heat in the primary table sauce may be a direct nod to the growing gentrification of the Alberta/Concordia neighborhood.
La Bonita’s facade has been redesigned since my last visit.
At $2 a clip, the tacos here are twice the price of other taqueries, including the 2 other shops just walking distance from La Bonita on Alberta.
But as you can see with the gentle overflowing of delicious pork goodness from this pastor taco, it is easily worth it. The last few tacos I’ve had here are some of the best I’ve had since I’ve been in Portland. La Bonita has hit their stride.
The wall mural at La Bonita.
La Bonita
2839 Ne Alberta St
Portland, OR 97211
(503) 281-3662
Oregon shrimpers snare seal of approval. (Oregon Live)
Oregon’s pink shrimp industry on Thursday became the first shrimp fishery in the world to receive a sustainability stamp of approval from the Marine Stewardship Council, an international nonprofit that promotes responsible fishing practices.
The certification from the independent council could bolster Oregon’s reputation as a leader in sustainable resource management and help boost an industry hurt by fierce competition from Canadian and Norwegian imports, industry and state leaders said at a morning news conference.
A Liquor of Legend Makes a Comeback. (NY Times)
The division of the Treasury Department that approves alcohol packaging sent back his label seven times, he said. They thought it looked too much like the British pound note. They wondered why it was called Absinthe Verte when their lab analysis said the liquid inside was amber. Mostly, it seemed to him, they didn’t like the monkey.
“I had the image of a spider monkey beating on a skull with femur bones,” Mr. Winters said. But he said that the Alcohol and Tobacco Tax and Trade Bureau thought the label “implied that there are hallucinogenic, mind-altering or psychotropic qualities” to the product.
“I said, ‘You get all that just from looking at a monkey?’”
His frustration came to a sudden end last Wednesday, when he learned the agency had finally granted approval to his St. George Absinthe Verte, the first American-made absinthe on the market in almost a century.
Nyquil is faster.
Is the Entree Heading for Extinction? (NY Times).
THE entree, long the undisputed centerpiece of an American restaurant meal, is dead.
O.K., so maybe it’s not quite time to write the entree’s obituary. But in many major dining cities like New York, San Francisco and Chicago, the main course is under attack.
Although the entree’s ills were first diagnosed in the late 1990s, when the rise of small plates kicked off the tapafication of American menus, the attacks have become more serious lately.
No dice.
Any campaign that devotes a great deal of time and energy promoting the choice of a Celine Dion-Air France jingle as its campaign theme song has irrevocably entered an irony-free zone.
You can have Celine, or you can have a sense of humor, but no way can you claim to have both. Matter and anti-matter.
I like the New Seasons butcher counter. It’s a shame, as my entire life in Portland, I lived biking distance to a New Seasons (Sellwood, then Concordia, then Arbor Lodge), but now that I live in Southwest there’s no longer a New Season super close-by. However, there is a Fantasy Video Adult Superstore.
I digress. New Seasons has a variety of ground meats and sausages of various derivations, sold by the pound, ground and prepared on the premises. They have a nice selection of ground chicken, including an excellent spicy Italian sausage. After seeing Je Mange La Ville’s take on Italian Wedding Soup, I decided to give it a shot using New Seasons spicy chicken sausage, rolled into meatball form, which added a nice undulating heat to the soup. And instead of a small Italian pasta, I used orzo, which is more associated with Greek cuisine. And I didn’t add the egg, which to me would remind me too much of egg drop soup. I also added other stuff. So think of this as…
Italian Divorce Soup (with a Pre-Nup)
- 3 quarts homemade chicken broth
- 1 pound ground, hot italian chicken sausage
- One tablespoon butter
- 1 onion, chopped
- 6 stalks of celery, leaves and ends trimmed, split lengthwise then sliced 1/4″ thick
- 3 or 4 decent sized carrots, peeled, sliced into coins
- 8 oz. sliced button mushroom
- Entire bunch of green kale or chard, chopped
- 1 garlic cloved, minced
- 3 sprigs of thyme
- 1/4 cup dry white wine
- 1 teaspoon dried Italian seasoning or marjoram
- 3 bay leaves
- 4 ounces dried orzo
- Salt and pepper
Roll those meatballs.
Melt butter in large pot or dutch oven over medium heat. Add onions, carrots, and celery, season with dried herbs and some salt and pepper. Sweat vegetables for a couple minutes. Raise heat to high, add white wine, and stir for a minute or two.
Add garlic, mushrooms, kale, and pour chicken broth over everything, and bring to a boil. Add meatballs, lower heat to low, and simmer for ten minutes. Add orzo, and continue to simmer for 20 minutes. Add salt and pepper to your tastes. I find soups much more pleasurable allow it to sit and “steep” for a while before eating. Your results may vary.
Enjoy it on a cold, rainy day, of which we have many in Portland. If you live in some place that’s perpetually sunny and warm, you can still enjoy a hot bowl of soup before your environment becomes inhabitable and your society eventually erodes.
Now that the NFL is entering crunch time, college football is about to sharpen its muddled bowl picture, and Tom Brady is busy girding his loins to inseminate another supermodel or actress, it’s definitely wing season. And it’s about time to bust out an alt-wing recipe to mix things up a bit. Think of this recipe as the Devin Hester of wings — explosive, and even though you kinda expect what’s coming, you can never really prepare for it and you’re caught flat-footed when it arrives. That is probably the lamest thing I have ever written.
This is a simple recipe for some delicious wings. There are only five ingredients, but one of the most important ingredients isn’t even an ingredient at all—it’s actually the grilling. It’s essential to grill these wings outdoors over a charcoal flame. It really rounds out the flavor. If you decide not to grill over a charcoal flame, I will assume no liability.
Here are the ingredients. There’s a Loation store on North Killingsworth that sells frozen lemongrass that’s finely minced. It’s a real timesaver, as lemongrass freezes real well. Also, whenever my Mom visits, she insists on buying a couple heads of lemongrass and mincing them with steady knifework, and packages it up for freezing, so it always seems I have ready-to-use lemongrass on hand. Just make sure you get as fine, fine, fine as possible. You’ll also see here that I’m using my own pickled bird chilies. Use fresh ones, or make your own pickles…or freeze them, as they also freeze well. I find it impossilbe to use an entire package of bird chilies that I buy at the store before they go bad (and they are difficult to find loose by the pound), which is why I often freeze or pickle half of them immediately.
Grilled Fish Sauce Wings
- 2 dozen wings
- 4 or 5 tablespoons finely minced lemongrass
- 9 or 10 thai bird chilies, finely minced
- 6 cloves of garlic, forced through a garlic press
- 1 tablespoon sugar
- 6 tablespoons fish sauce
Mix everything together, and set aside to marinade at least 2-3 hours, longer if, like me, you like tasting stuff with more taste.
Grill them up. I’m not going to tell you how to grill. If you don’t know how to grill, just give up already and get a MySpace page or something.
Now root for Matt Shaub and the Houston Texans this Sunday because I used my two of my top 3 picks for LaDanian Tomlinson and Antonio Gates and those fuckers don’t seem to score at the same time this season. The third pick was Mark Bulger and he’s decided to be a total pussy this year.
Where the Votes Are, So Are All Those Calories. (NY Times)
Running for president is like entering a competitive eating contest and a beauty pageant all at once. Candidates are expected to eat local specialties often and with gusto, yet still look attractive and fit.
So it is no wonder that many of this year’s candidates have what might be called food issues — the same kinds that plague the rest of us, especially at this time of year, but exacerbated by the brutal demands of campaign life.
The Democratic contenders include Gov. Bill Richardson, a veteran of the Atkins and liquid diets who wears a double chin despite daily workouts. Senator Barack Obama, who was chubby as a child, refers to himself as skinny in speeches and barely touches fatty foods — except at events like the Iowa State Fair, where he ate caramel corn, pork and a corn dog for the cameras. At one campaign event, Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton said she prayed to God to help her lose weight.
On the Republican side, there is Mike Huckabee, a self-described “recovering food addict” who lost 110 pounds a few years ago. Rudolph W. Giuliani and Fred D. Thompson are on diets imposed by their wives. Mitt Romney is so vigilant about nutrition that he eats the same thing every day: his wife’s granola for breakfast, a chicken or turkey sandwich for lunch, and pasta, fish or chicken for dinner.
And John McCain probably spoke for all the candidates when he arrived at a New Hampshire college for a speech on Sunday night and surveyed the snack foods set out backstage. “I’d love some spaghetti,” he said wistfully, as if a warm, comforting meal could somehow be conjured out of the air.
Best Craigslist post I’ve read today.
Hamburger Buns
Reply to: sale-491749868@craigslist.org
Date: 2007-11-27, 8:45PM PSTFree 12 pack of hamburger buns. Had wayyyyy to many for our party. Never opened, ready to eat! No Mold! I actually have 2 12 packs, but 1 has a bun taken out of it. You can have that one too if you want it.
Location: 94th and Padden in the Couv
it’s NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
Spread the love, buddy.
In the five years+ I’ve been in Portland, the bánh mì options have flourished like mushrooms on a rainy fall lawn (as I typed this, I had a spore in my backyard the size of a small frisbee).
New-ish options run from the very good (Vina Deli on 82nd – UPDATE – THIS PLACED JUST CLOSED :{), to the erstwhile (Cali Sandwiches on NE Glisan and the deli in the Fubonn Asian Superstore).
The best Viet sandwich in Portland IMHO can be found at both locations of Binh Minh…
one on NE Broadway (60ish, just north of I-84)…
and the other on SE Powell (just west of 82nd).
There’s a consensus that the proprietor lady at Binh Minh is notoriously cranky, and I can see how that consensus has been reached. But growing up amongst a cadre of Vietnamese cranks who insist on nagging your every move and decision and whose idea of escalating communicative skills consists of yelling louder in an increasingly annoying pitch, I’m somewhat impervious. She works at the NE Broadway location, but on a recent visit to the SE Powell location (which just opened this year), she was there.
She took my order, and I asked for double meat, and she got my order wrong, and gave me this “dac biet” (aka the “everything” in Vietnamese) instead of the lemongrass pork. However, I’m somewhat scared of her, so I ate it.
For the uninitiated, a dac biet generall means “everything including the kitchen sink”. Head cheese, Vietnamese bologna, a spread of pâté AND butter.
Here’s the bbq pork, from the NE Broadway location.
The short story is that the bánh mì here is very good. The younger lady behind the counter asked if I wanted sliced jalapenos, and of course I did – I think a bánh mì without chilies is like a hot dog without mustard. She toasted the bread with very thin slices of delicious bbq pork – the pork was lean enough (unlike, say, Fubonn, where it is half fat). The carrots were julienned nice and thin, and the entire sandwich was the “flavor bomb” that Mr. Pok Pok once eloquently described on a PortlandFood.org thread. The bread was nice and crusty and french – this is the best bánh mì I’ve had in Portland.
I also like how they include an option for more meat for 50 cents — my main quibble is that there’s never enough meat in a bánh mì. But you can always make your own overstuffed bánh mì if you so desire, but if you are looking for anymore than a snack, I would say order two sandwiches (@$2-3 apiece you can afford it).
Menu board at Binh Minh, NE Broadway location.
Menu board at Binh Minh, SE Powell location.
Both locations have a variety of ready-to-carry Vietnamese specialties, as this shot of the NE Broadway counter attests.
In addition, the NE Broadway location has heated items, including dimunitive cha gios and savory and delectable pâté chaud.
Binh Minh Bakery & Deli
6812 NE Broadway St, Portland
(503) 257-3868
Binh Minh Sandwiches
7821 SE Powell Blvd, Portland
(503) 777-2245
Links
The Supermarket of Struggling Artists. (NYMag.com)
Supermarket employees have never looked so appetizing, or so poignantly arty—remember Jake Gyllenhaal cast implausibly as a stock boy who thought he was Holden Caulfield in The Good Girl? That’s the sort of person Trader Joe’s seems to recruit. The store uses cute, clean-looking, multiethnic twentysomethings in the same way as other hip retailers (say, Urban Outfitters): It’s part of the shopping experience. To see what it’s like, I decided to work there. It turned out to be frustratingly difficult to get hired. The Joe’s employees are less-established versions of the typical Trader Joe’s shopper: Our customers “read The New Yorker, not People magazine,” explains an employee handout. So does the floor staff.
Where would the employees that read Hustler work? (I mean, besides car dealerships and Best Buy).
Tightening the Beltway, the Elite Shop Costco. (NY Times)
Heartwarming article on how war profiteers and those in the chattering class (who subscribe to the mindless high school pack mentality and think Al Gore’s discovery of earth tones in 2000 was enough to rob him of an election) are finding good deals on gravlax and chanterelles.
Emeril is out at the Food Network…sorta.
Emeril Live — the annoying dog-and-pony-show with a sycophantic crowd of rubes that cheers whenever the guy uses salt or garlic and smiles and nods to one another approvingly whenever Emeril repeats a trope concerning the superlative quality of fat rendered from a pig — is no longer.
But The Essence of… — the show where Emeril (not drunk on his own stardom) pulls together a cogent 30 minutes of cooking — lives on.
Unlocking the Benefits of Garlic. (NY Times)
In a study published today in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, researchers show that eating garlic appears to boost our natural supply of hydrogen sulfide. Hydrogen sulfide is actually poisonous at high concentrations — it’s the same noxious byproduct of oil refining that smells like rotten eggs. But the body makes its own supply of the stuff, which acts as an antioxidant and transmits cellular signals that relax blood vessels and increase blood flow.
In the latest study, performed at the University of Alabama at Birmingham, researchers extracted juice from supermarket garlic and added small amounts to human red blood cells. The cells immediately began emitting hydrogen sulfide, the scientists found.
The power to boost hydrogen sulfide production may help explain why a garlic-rich diet appears to protect against various cancers, including breast, prostate and colon cancer, say the study authors. Higher hydrogen sulfide might also protect the heart, according to other experts. Although garlic has not consistently been shown to lower cholesterol levels, researchers at Albert Einstein College of Medicine earlier this year found that injecting hydrogen sulfide into mice almost completely prevented the damage to heart muscle caused by a heart attack.
Meat, poultry, vegetables feel heat from global warming. (Yahoo! News)
From meat, poultry and milk to potatoes, onions and leafy greens, everything consumed on the world’s dining tables is feeling the heat from climate change, scientists say.
Researchers are trying to establish the extent to which global warming will affect livestock, plant life and staple crops such as rice to bolster their resistance to disease and breed stronger varieties.
The world’s billion poor, whether producers or consumers, will bear the brunt, warned scientists who ended a conference Saturday on agriculture and climate change in Hyderabad, southern India.
Many Americans Can’t Afford to Eat Right. (Yahoo! News)
THURSDAY, Nov. 22 (HealthDay News) — In this land and season of plenty, low-income and rural Americans continue to have difficulty finding healthy foods that are affordable, a new study finds.
One study shows that low-income Americans now would have to spend up to 70 percent of their food budget on fruits and vegetables to meet new national dietary guidelines for healthy eating.
And a second study found that in rural areas, convenience stores far outnumber supermarkets and grocery stores — even though the latter carry a much wider choice of affordable, healthy foods.
Later Tuesday, Sen. Chris Dodd (D-Ct.) , who is running for president, stated, “Today’s revelations by Mr. McClellan are very disturbing and raise several important questions that need to be answered. If in fact the President of the United of States knowingly instructed his chief spokesman to mislead the American people, there can be no more fundamental betrayal of the public trust.
“During his confirmation process, Attorney General Mukasey said he would act independently. Accordingly, today, I call on the Attorney General to live up to his word and launch an immediate investigation to determine the facts of this case, the extent of any cover up and determine what the President knew and when he knew it.”
WASHINGTON, July 18 – President Bush said today that he would fire anyone in his administration who has broken the law in the unmasking of a C.I.A. officer two years ago.
Matthew Cooper, a reporter for Time, talked about his grand jury testimony Sunday on “Meet the Press.”
Asked about his close adviser Karl Rove, who is at the center of an investigation into the disclosure of the officer’s identity, Mr. Bush said: “If someone committed a crime, they will no longer work in my administration. I don’t know all the facts; I want to know all the facts.”The remarks appeared to shift the standard for dismissal that has been expressed repeatedly over many months by Mr. Bush’s spokesmen – from promises to fire anyone who played a role in the disclosure, to Mr. Bush’s statement today that criminal conduct would have to be involved.
Just sayin’.
Food makers are pressured to cut sodium
Americans eat nearly two teaspoons of salt daily, more than double what they need for good health — and it’s not because of the table salt-shaker. Three-fourths of that sodium comes inside common processed foods like stuffing mix, gravy, and yes, pumpkin pie.
Even raw turkey, which is naturally low in sodium, sometimes is injected with salt water before it reaches the store, a lot more salt than a home cook might sprinkle on. You have to read the brand’s fine print to tell.
Now public health specialists are pressuring the Food and Drug Administration to require food makers to cut the sodium. In a hearing set for next week, they will call the government intervention crucial to fighting heart disease.
“There’s just a growing scientific consensus that current levels of salt in the diet are one of the biggest health threats to the public,” says Michael Jacobson of the Center for Science in the Public Interest, a consumer advocacy group that filed the FDA petition triggering the meeting.
Passed on without comment, as I am a person who has a drawer full of 9 different types of salt at this very moment.
It used to be Vinnie the “Microwave” Johnson, but now the honor goes to the inestimable Gilbert Arenas, or the player formerly known as “hibachi” (which itself was a crowd pleaser).
“We started off worse than we can imagine, started off slow,” said Arenas, who recently declared that his new nickname is Nacho. “Now we’re picking up some momentum. We’re just trying to get out of this November alive, because we know December and January is our time.”
Arenas is an alma matter of Arizona. Go Wildcats.
Amy @The Merc posts about a tamale sale from which proceeds go to families affected by the recent Del Monte immigration raid in North Portland.
Regardless of your views on immigration reform, it’s worth buying some delicious winter tamales just to encourage this guy to manufacture more spittle.
“You people are really nuts,” she told a reporter during a phone interview. “There’s kids dying in the war, the price of oil right now — there’s better things in this world to be thinking about than who served Hillary Clinton at Maid-Rite and who got a tip and who didn’t get a tip.”
Device Created for ‘Red Wine Headache’. (Wired News)
Chemists working with NASA-funded technology designed to find life on Mars have created a device they say can easily detect chemicals that many scientists believe can turn wine and other beloved indulgences into ingredients for agony.
The chemicals, called biogenic amines, occur naturally in a wide variety of aged, pickled and fermented foods prized by gourmet palates, including wine, chocolate, cheese, olives, nuts and cured meats.
“The food you eat is so unbelievably coupled with your body’s chemistry,” said Richard Mathies, who described his new technology in an article published Thursday in the journal Analytical Chemistry.
Scientists have nominated several culprits for “red wine headache,” including amines like tyramine and histamine, though no conclusions have been reached. Still, many specialists warn headache sufferers away from foods rich in amines, which can also trigger sudden episodes of high blood pressure, heart palpitations and elevated adrenaline levels.
The detector could prove useful to those with amine sensitivity, said Beverly McCabe, a clinical dietitian and co-author of “Handbook of Food-Drug Interactions,” a book cited by the article for its descriptions of the effects of amines on the brain.
Food 2.0: Chefs as Chemists. (NY Times)
Chefs are using science not only to better understand their cooking, but also to create new ways of cooking. Elsewhere, chefs have played with lasers and liquid nitrogen. Restaurant kitchens are sometimes outfitted with equipment adapted from scientific laboratories. And then there are hydrocolloids that come in white bottles like chemicals.
The Ultimate All-in-One Beer Brewing Machine.
Behold PopSci staff photographer/mad scientist John Carnett’s homemade microbrewery: an elaborate device that boils, ferments, chills, and pours home-crafted ale.
Caramel Sauce
- 2 or 3 tablespoons palm sugar
- 2 tablespoons or so water
Make caramel sauce by melting palm sugar in small saucepan (preferably stainless steel). Add water and stir until consistency is reached.
Chicken
Get an entire chicken and cleaver it into logical small pieces, “breaking” the bones of the main cuts.
Other Ingredients
- 1 knob (3 inches) of ginger
- 3 or 4 garlic cloves
- 4 or 5 small bird (thai) chilies
- Black pepper
- 1/2 white onion, slivered
- 2 or more tablespoons of fish sauce
- Water
- Salt if you want
- Half a package of green onions, chopped
Peel the large knob of ginger. Cut it into very thin “sheets”. Cut half of the sheets into fine julienne, and set aside. Combine the remaining ginger in mortar with garlic and chilies. Pound.
In a dutch oven or large sautee pan, add just a touch of peanut oil, and pounded aromatics, slivered ginger, sautee for a minute or so, then follow with the chicken pieces. Stir fry for a few minutes until the chicken is lightly browned.
Add caramel sauce, fish sauce, onions, and enough water to cover the chicken pieces. Stir and bring to a boil, then reduce to very low simmer, stir, and hit with black pepper. Partially cover and simmer for 45 minutes to an hour, stirring occasionally.
Turn off heat. Garnish with chopped green onions and let sit for half an hour. You may need to salt/add more fish sauce at this point to your preference. Serve with steamed jasmine rice.
King crab with lime butter spiked with insane amounts of sea salt and coarse ground tellicherry pepper.
Midnight snack: quarter-pound frank, slathered in pedestrian sauces, chopped tabasco peppers, tomatoes, onions, pickles, on a toasted stadium roll.
Kettle offering limited edition “People’s Choice” spicy chip package.
This year our fiery flavor candidates are:
• Wicked Hot Sauce – Inspired by hot sauce, cayenne pepper and vinegary tang flood your taste buds with bayou burning heat.
• Mango Chili – Sweet mango highlighted with a salty, spicy blend of cayenne
and habanero chilies will have your tongue dancing the mango tango.
• Jalapeno Salsa Fresca – Fresh salsa anyone? A blend of fiery jalapeño and spicy cayenne mellowed with soothing sun dried tomato, green bell pepper and lime flavors.
• Orange Ginger Wasabi – the punch of wasabi, a little ginger and a twist of citrus blend for a spicy Asian bite.
• Death Valley Chipotle – a smoky blend of red chili, cayenne, chipotle, habanero and herbs lays the foundation for this flavor’s slow burning heat.
The “People’s Choice” comes into play as we, the people, get to choose the next upcoming flavor Kettle will roll out.
Oregon’s own Kettle Chips proves again it is the most progressive and democratic of all the salty snacks.
Small World ride revamped for bigger passengers. (CalorieLab)
The Small World ride now must accommodate adults who frequently weigh north of 200 pounds, which it often cannot do. Increasingly, overweighted boats get to certain points in the ride and bottom out, becoming stuck in the flume.
The ride monitors attempt to leave empty seats on many boats to compensate for the hefty, but this routinely antagonizes the hundreds of paying customers waiting in line. When a boat does bottom out, a long line of other boats backs up behind it, their passengers slowly going mad from listening to the ride’s theme song.
The ride monitors must then track down the stuck boat and attempt tactfully to help a rider or two to exit at one of the emergency platforms, which the riders in question do not always deal with graciously.
This is emblematic of America on so many levels.
Via Besty @Metblogs, you can get your free hard shell taco on at any Taco Bell today from 2–5 p.m.
The taco is free, but the bowel discharge will inevitably cost you. Nevertheless, free taco it is.
Fake Shark Fins Made From Pork. (Discovery Channel)
A Japanese company is launching fake shark fins in China, hoping to tap a market as prices for real ones rise amid concerns the species is being hunted to extinction.
Shark fin is considered one of the highest-end delicacies in Chinese cuisine and also fetches high prices in select Japanese restaurants.
Nikko Yuba Seizo Co. a Japanese food-processing company, said it had developed artificial shark fins made out of pork gelatin. Its top executives returned Friday from a two-day trip to China to introduce the products.
We can thank Yao Ming. Though I’ve had fake shark fin, and it wasn’t the same, you know? Just like how quail stomachs are no substitute for bald eagle gizzards.
Fast Food Items Highest In Trans Fat – The 88 least healthy foods. (A Calorie Counter)
Keeping in mind just how terrible trans fat is and all of the terrible things it can cause, I have given this the very catchy nickname of “The 88 Fast Food Items Most Likely To Kill You.” When you look over this list with the understanding that you should be eating 0 grams of trans fat per day, you’ll realize that my little nickname really isn’t that much of an overstatement.
Jack-in-the-box, Burger King, White Castle — the usual suspects.
What are you doing the evening of Sunday, November 11?
Perhaps, if you have some free time and a few bucks to spare, you can make your way over to AudioCinema to attend a benefit for my friend Chad, who was diagnosed this summer with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. There will be music, beverage, food (for purchase — provided by the cafe@AudioCinema), and a raffle. If you’re lucky, you might see yours truly popping and locking to those new-fashioned musical beats all the kids are listening to these days on their Zunes and Packard Bell MP3 devices, while stuffing my face with free-range hot dogs while drinking Zima-and-Grape-Kool-Aid cocktails (aka the “Ryan Seacrest”).
Jim Gaffigan is a puffy, pasty comedian from Indiana that has been a mainstay in the comedy club and late night circuit for some time. You might recognize him from his commercial and acting work (he was a regular on That Seventies Show for a few seasons).
While other comedians might inject some aspect of food anecdote into their act — such as Eddie Murphy’s bit on McDonald’s in Raw — few “pepper” (get it?) their routine with the sheer number of sustained food references that Gaffigan “seasons”(!) his act with.
Perhaps it’s his modest, mid-western roots that positions Gaffigan well in this regard. He is the everyman, toiling in the mundane, and thus possesses a unique vantage point from which to wryly sink his teeth (ok, that’s it, I promise) into what you and I consider perfunctory and banal, such as the erstwhile Hot Pocket. This supermarket frozen aisle staple can form the crux of almost one fifth of his act, and it’s Gaffigan’s most famous bit. He’ll randomly interject the trademark commercial jingle (“Hot Pocket!”) and various, contextual permutations therein (“Diarrhea Pocket!”) throughout his astute observations on America’s popular microwaveable stuffed pastry (“There’s a vegetarian hot pocket for those who don’t eat meat but still would like diarrhea”).
Gaffigan reserves much of his derision for his stereotypical American brethren, including the lazy Fat American. He calls us out for the peculiar national holidays that revolve around gorging ourselves, such as Thanksgiving (“Let’s eat too much. But we do that everyday! Let’s do it with people who annoy us.”) and the Fourth of July (“I’m going to eat a burger AND a brat.”). Gaffigan effortlessly alternates between his on-stage persona and that of an incensed audience member having a running imaginary conversation with his/herself, a seeming prude so easily offended by the pasty bumpkin on stage and his incendiary ramblings that he/she would exclaim — with a tone that implies an incredulous case of the vapors — “But I like Hot Pockets, mister! They’re delicious.”
He has a keen ability to effortlessly expand upon the absurdity of the mundane (“Pie can’t compete with cake. Put candles in a cake, it’s a birthday cake; put candles in a pie…and someone’s drunk in the kitchen.”)
The subject of meat is given its just due (“Steak is like the tuxedo of meat…and bologna is the retarded cousin”) and Gaffigan pokes his fun at vegetarians (“I’m not a strict vegetarian, I eat beef and pork. And chicken. But not fish, that’s disgusting.”)
(Vegetarians will brag…)“I haven’t had meat in 5 years.” I haven’t had a banana in month – you don’t see me bragging. I love animals, I just like eating them more. Fun to pet, better to chew.
Jim Gaffigan will be at the Arlene Schnitzer Hall in Portland the evening of Friday, November 2. A second show has been added, so he will be performing twice in one night (7 and 10pm). Ticketmaster won’t allow me to purchase any tickets, so if anybody wants to give me a ticket, or if Mr. Gaffigan himself would like to put me on the guest list in exchange for effusive praise on this blog, I welcome the gesture.
Woman fined for hammer fit at Comcast. (Yahoo! News)
Shaw, 75, and her husband, Don, say they had an appointment in August for a Comcast technician to come to their Bristow home to install the company’s heavily advertised Triple Play phone, Internet and cable service.
The Shaws say no one came all day, and the technician who showed up two days later left without finishing the setup. Two days after that, Comcast cut off all their service.
At the Comcast office in Manassas later that day, they waited for a manager for two hours before being told the manager had left for the day, the Shaws say.
Shaw, a churchgoing secretary of the local AARP branch, returned the next Monday — with a hammer.
“I smashed a keyboard, knocked over a monitor … and I went to hit the telephone,” Shaw said. “I figured, ‘Hey, my telephone is screwed up, so is yours.’”
My new hero.
Full-on congrats are extended to ExtraMSG, THE Portland blog AND taco pioneer, on his and Ken Gordon’s recent soft launch of what will be undoubtedly known as one of if not the best delis on the West coast.
My 1.5 regular readers might recognize eMSG from his comments on this blog, calling me out as an idiot (sometimes without provocation — he likens himself to the supermensch — but mostly because I truly am an idiot). I can’t believe he had that much free time at one point in his life to run his blog and spread his authoritative vision amongst us mortals. I really can’t believe he has time for anything, really. He’s a rare breed.
Good luck guys, though you don’t need it. Things seem gangbusters out of the gate.
I’m including a picture (I stole it from their site, but they need to accept this) of the meatxtravaganza you’d be able to actually eat if you had $13. HOLY SHIT.
It’s National Meatloaf Appreciation Day. All the cool kids are doing cool things, conjuring up loafed meat dishes worthy of praise, like Michelle @Je Mange la Ville, who is doing things with her usual aplomb.
Me, I got nothing. I was dreaming up a layered meatloaf with alternating layers of ground pork and veal with whole cloves of roasted garlic, wild mushroom duxelle, topped with a tomato jam, but I’m moving to a new house and have spent the last 4 weeks up to my butthole in paint and bleach and hammers and kitchen shelf liner.
So I’m trotting out out an old post. Consider it made from “recycled post-consumer and post-industrial waste”. This is for kefta kabobs, which is a form of loafed meat, in this case around a metal skewer.
Happy National Meatloaf Appreciation Day. Now appreciate the fuck out this tired, recycled post, bitches.
I like kebabs. I particularly enjoy the Kefta kebab, which is ground meat formed around a skewer in kebab-like fashion. I like saying the word kefta. It’s one of those words, like película and Kofi Annan, that you never grow tired of saying. I remember when Congress a couple years ago was debating the merits of the Central America Free Trade Agreement, I secretly wished the debate would draw out into a longer, more contentious debate than it had at the time, just because I enjoyed all the talking heads uttering the acronym “CAFTA” (which was close enough for me). Each time I watched the news I’d get hungry.
You can make this with beef or lamb (or beef and lamb) as well. New Seasons sells ground lamb, though keep in mind it is very fatty and will imbue the atmosphere with quite a gamy scent for some time (especially if your hood isn’t all that). My wife was all bothered and stuff, but the deliciousness factor made her harangues worth it.
Kefta Kebab
- 1 and one-half pounds ground beef or lamb (or both!)
- 1 bunch chopped fresh Italian parsley, reserve a couple tablespoons (to cook with rice)
- 2 tablespoons chopped cilantro
- 1 egg
- 1/3 cup bread crumbs
- 3 or 4 garlic cloves, forced through a press
- 1 white onion, finely chopped
- 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
- 1 teaspoon ground coriander
- 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
- Ground pepper
- Salt to your taste
Combine everything in a large mixing bowl and mix together with your hands. I like to use long, flat broad metal skewers — mold the meat around the length of the skewer and pat to form an elongated, rectangular patty.
Heat a grill pan over medium-high and brown skewers on each of the 4 ends, 2 minutes or so each side. Remove and let sit for a few minutes.
You can eat this skewers by themselves. But c’mon, man, don’t be such freak.
Rice Pilaf
- Olive oil or butter (2 tablespoons)
- 2 cups basmati rice
- 2 tablespoons chopped parsley
- 3 cups chicken broth
- 1 onion, finely chopped
- 2 cloves minced garlic
- 1 chopped tomato
- Pinch of saffron
- Salt
Preheat oven to 325 F. Rinse and soak rice in water for half hour. Drain. Heat oil or butter in a medium saucepan (with a tight fitting lid) over medium heat. Add onions and sweat for a couple minutes, then add garlic, rice and saffron and sautee for a couple minutes. Add tomatoes, salt, and broth. Bring to boil, cover, and place in oven for 20 minutes. Allow the rice to sit on stovetop for 10 minutes, then fluff with a fork.
Sumac Onions
- 1 white onion, halved and sliced
- Ground sumac
- Olive oil
Sautee onions in oil. Hit with sumac when they start to caramelize, and serve over kebabs.
I like to squeeze lemon over the kebab, onions, and rice.
The pleasure principle. (Times Online)
On language and food writing:
The problem and the skill is not actually in the food, or in having an eye for decor, an ear for the staff, or a nose for the wine list (which I rarely mention, because I don’t drink). It’s in the language.
English, which is so gloriously verbose about so much of life’s gay tapestry, is summarily tongue-tied when it comes to describing food and eating. The reasons are partially cultural. It has never been considered polite to talk about food, partly as there hasn’t ever been much food that you could be polite about. Food and talking about food was something the French did. It’s often pointed out that while the words for farm animals are Anglo-Saxon, their names when they’re cooked are Norman – pork for swine, beef for cattle, mutton for sheep – distinguishing who did the herding and who did the eating.
But then, many of the words that we do have are swaggered in a Pooterish bourgeois snobbery. I can’t write “moist” or “succulent” or “luxuriant” without shivering. Writing about food and the sensation of eating can be as nauseating to read as watching someone eat with their mouth open. So you have to pick your way through the verbiage with care and imagination.
On the nature of criticism:
Finally, people often say: “Seeing as you know so much, why don’t you open a restaurant?” And I think of Brendan Behan’s famous quote: “Critics are like eunuchs in a harem – they know how it’s done, they’ve seen it done every day, but they’re unable to do it themselves.” Like so much of Behan’s work, that’s smart, but not quite right. Critics may well be like eunuchs in a harem who know how it’s done – but having seen it done every day, they just don’t fancy having it done to them.
On the “organic” canard:
Can we just get the organic thing clear? Organic does not mean additive-free; it means some additives and not others. Organic does not mean your food hasn’t been washed with chemicals, frozen or kept fresh with gas, or that it has not been flown around the world. Organic does not necessarily mean it is healthier, or will make you live longer; nor does it mean tastier, fresher, or in some way improved. Organically farmed fish is not necessarily better than wild fish. Organically reared animals didn’t necessarily live a happier life than nonorganic ones – and their death is no less traumatic.
…
So what does organic actually mean? Buggered if I know. It usually means more expensive. Whatever the original good intentions of the organic movement, their good name has been hijacked by supermarkets, bijoux delicatessens and agri-processors as a value-added designer label. Organic comes with its own basket of aspiration, snobbery, vanity and fear that retailers on tight margins can exploit. And what I mind most about it is that it has reinvigorated the old class distinction in food. There is them that have chemical-rich, force-fed battery dinner and us that have decent, healthy, caring lunch. It is the belief that you can buy not only a clear conscience, but a colon that works like the log flume at Alton Towers.
On durian:
You can tell you’re in the presence of a durian from 20ft. They smell. No, they stink. They have the most exotically complex and psychologically confused life cycle of any vegetable, and rely on fooling carnivores to spread their seed. So they give off the odour of rotting flesh. It’s the scent of corruption, a whiff of the charnel house, a gag from a hot grave. If Stephen King books smelt, they’d smell of durian.
Inside, the flesh is marmoreally slimy, some say silky. Personally, I think it’s like lost babies who have been drowned in baths of whey. The flesh clings to the stones like putrefying muscle. You have to suck and nibble. Few westerners manage that twice.
I love this guy.
There was a time, when I first moved to Portland, that I hit Phở Hung every weekend morning. I lived in SE, and was hungover a lot. The host at the SE Powell location at the time was this Viet-Elvis looking dude, constantly jovial and pretty damn suave is all his post-FOB glory. I’m not sure if he’s still there.
Phở Hung-Powell was good, for the most part. The broth, if a tad greasy on ocassion, was nice and beefy, with a mellow — yet pronounced — spice profile. However, at times, the raw beef Tai was past its prime. The garnish platter was often only sparsely adorned with basil, the lime was just a nub, and the sawleaf herb was nowhere to be seen. But my wife loved (and still does, presumably — she works on SE Powell) their goi cuon chay (I would enjoy the meat-ful versions on occastion. But their nuoc cmam was insipid, though, just water and nuoc man cut with water, sugar, and a few slivered carrots).
When I discovered Phở Oregon, Phở Hung started to lose my visits. The NE Sandy/72nd location (now closed) was closer to my NE home at the time, and was not the same quality as the location on SE Powell. And every 3 months, when I got my wife’s Saturn serviced in Beaverton, I’d always hit the Phở Hung in Beaverton. I had three consecutive Phở meals here that bordered on laughable. The broth was swimming in grease. Large, tepid, brown discs of beef round were weathered by freezer burnt edges, and imparted a mouthfeel like shoe leather. And I’ve also visited the SE 82nd location, and the broth tasted like it could have come out of a can.
Phở Hung as a concept had become too inconsistent to earn my continued patronage.
So it was with slight suprise when I recently have a very good bowl of phở (and goi cuon) at Phở Hung. I found myself in Beaverton one morning, as my wife still drives a Saturn, and hiked down SW Canyon1 for a quick breakfast.
Goi cuon. A tight roll, fresh, and the meat was not-off tasting. A decent roll, but somewhat small.
But as the upskirt shot shows, it does not have much in the way of greens/herbs, outside of lettuce. This makes baby Uncle Ho cry.
Their nuoc cham is pedestrian. It needs generous doses of garlic chili sauce (conveniently in the condiment tray) to bring it up to snuff.
The garnish platter isn’t the most generous, but this was fresh. 3 slivers of jalapeno doesn’t cut it, as these are tame northwestern peppers. No saw leaf herb, aka culantro aka “ngo gai” (Vietnamese), though you can ask if they have it in-house. Pretend like you’re yelling, “yo guy!” except put an “N” in front (“n-yo guy!”). And you have to yell. It’s the preferred method of communicating with non-English speaking peoples, including the elderly2.
The soup, in this case phở tai chin, or soup with raw round and braised brisket. As you can see, the tai was truly rare, with only a brief scorch of hot broth used to cook the meat (just as it should be).
The brisket “chin”. The phở today was very good. I was pleasantly surprised. The broth was on the mark. The meats were tender, the chin here rivaled the last Phở Oregon visit (Sandy location) and was better than the last bowl I had at the Phở Oregon-82nd location.
When the Saturn needs to be serviced in 3 months (or 3,000 miles – whatever comes first), I’ll be back for another bowl.
Phở Hung
13227 SW Canyon Rd # B
Beaverton, OR 97005
(503) 626-2888
Footnotes
1 People on this road seem to regard pedestrians as meritless, contemptible beings that contribute little to society.
2 Apparently this works both directions. I don’t speak Vietnamese, and my mother has determined the only why she can communicate with me in English is by TALKING VERY LOUD. But I’ve heard her talk (in Vietnamese) on the phone — with her friends — and she tends to elucidate similarly by TALKING VERY LOUD AT ONE CONSTANT, SUSTAINED, NEAR-YELL. I’m not sure if her friends on the other end of the line are constantly startled by my mother’s pitch, or if this is just a commonly accepted phenomenom in her culture. So maybe it really is a) the Vietnamese people, or b) just my mom’s family. I suspect b), as I met my mom’s friends and they tend to be soft-spoken, but when I call my Aunt’s house and ask a question she responds in a such cacophony that you’d think you’re listening to an elephant choke on an entire pineapple.
60 grams of fat for breakfast! (CNN)
The people who brought you the Monster Thickburger and the 1,100-calorie salad are at it again — this time for breakfast.
“We don’t try to hide what these are,” a Hardee’s spokesman said of the 920-calorie breakfast burrito.
Hardee’s on Monday rolled out its new Country Breakfast Burrito — two egg omelets filled with bacon, sausage, diced ham, cheddar cheese, hash browns and sausage gravy, all wrapped inside a flour tortilla. The burrito contains 920 calories and 60 grams of fat.
…
The Center for Science in the Public Interest, a Washington-based advocate for nutrition and health, has called the Hardee’s line of Thickburgers “food porn.”
The group’s senior nutritionist, Jayne Hurley, said Monday that the burrito was “another lousy invention by a fast-food company.”
I was going to dismiss this as yet another lousy gimmick, but that bureaucratic advocacy lady had to classify it as “food porn” and now I want it real bad.
Larry Craig, God bless him, is not only a wide stance restroom stall pioneer, but also an aspiring gourmand.
Super Tuber is a great snack that uses one of my favorite vegetables: The Idaho Potato. Of course, I suppose any type of potato could be used, but I cannot guarantee that a Super Tuber made with anything but a true Idaho potato would taste as good. Sincerely, Larry E. Craig, United States Senator
Super Tuber
- 1 hot dog, cook’s choice
- 1 Idaho baking potato, 7 to 10 ounces
- Mustard for dipping, any style
- Other condiments as desired such as cheese sauce, sour cream, chili, chives, bacon pieces or black olives.
Wash and dry potato. Rub with shortening or butter. With an apple corer or small knife, core out the potato center (end to end). Push hot dog through the center. Bake until potato is cooked through.
The emphasis and strongly bolded instructions above are entirely the work of this blog’s editor.
Sometimes life really is so very awesome that it really does make you wonder if there’s an excellent plan devised by Yahweh or Jesus or Vishnu or Odin or the pagan gods or something.
I can’t believe I’m watching the Daily Show and I’m not entirely disgusted by Lynne Cheney. I somewhat liked her. She’s being magnanimous and her husband has been gifted, if ever so slightly, an actual sense of humanity.
Jon Stewart has proved himself to be again the most artful and gracious televised interrogator of recent time.
Eat your food, get your money back. (Reuters)
Norwegian food retailer Coop launched a new guarantee for its produce on Monday: “If you did not like the food, you will get your money back – no questions asked.”
Coop, a consumer-owned cooperative and second biggest food chain in Norway, said competition among retailers was so fierce that in order to win new clients it had to become more creative.
“We trust the customers, if they say they are not pleased with something, we do not ask any questions,” Coop spokesman Vidar Ullenroed told Reuters.
“We will refund the whole amount,” Ullenroed told top-selling tabloid VG, adding that there did not have to be anything wrong with the product to get cash back.
The Price of a Four-Star Rating. (Wall Street Journal)
As online food sites become increasingly influential in the restaurant business, chefs and owners are plying bloggers with free meals to get good write-ups. Some are also posting favorable reviews about themselves on popular Web sites or becoming Internet scribes.
Among those using the tactics are some of the biggest names in the business. Terrance Brennan, co-owner and chef of New York’s Artisanal Bistro and Picholine, hosted a cheese class for bloggers last year, waiving the usual $75-a-person fee. Bill Telepan, chef and co-owner of Telepan in New York, donated a $200, four-course meal to one influential blogger’s online contest. And in Washington, the Park Hyatt’s Blue Duck Tavern says it invited a customer back for a free Father’s Day meal after she posted a negative comment on the Washington Post’s Web site. (In a follow-up post, the diner wrote, “We will definitely return to Blue Duck Tavern,” not mentioning that she had been invited free.)
Food bloggers are so annoying.
Pot candy factory owner surrenders. (Seattle PI)
The founder of an Oakland food factory that laces everything from cookies to barbecue sauce with marijuana surrendered Thursday to face a federal drug charge.
Michael Martin, 33, was freed on $300,000 bond on the charge of conspiring to manufacture and distribute marijuana.
This government hates capitalists.
As much as I hate the term, the Portland food “blogosphere” continues to expand in scope.
- Cuisine Bonne Femme (of PortlandFoodandDrink.com) just launched Portland Food Carts, an excellent compendium of the various food carts and trucks that serve the metro area (but mostly downtown).
- Tommy @Macerating Shallots continues to impress with his prolific and varied posts.
- Brownie Points is not exactly new, but new to Portland.
- Veronica (who is a rockstar for claiming the grand prize in the Tillamook Mac ‘N’ Cheese Regional) @cap’n blog and salty has been food blogging for a year now, but only recently came to my attention.
- The folks at the cleverly named eat (503) are doing quick hits of dining options in our fair burg.
- Lady Concierge gets out a lot, and she’s busy dutifully and gracefully documenting her experiences.
- Lizzy has been dishing Portland in very high gear this year.
- The owners of the recently opened Little Red Bike Cafe in North Portland allow you into their world.
- Portland Hamburgers have an admirable, singular focus.
Sometimes eating a large, carbo-centric meal — right when you get home — and then sitting on a couch with a laptop is not healthy.
For instance, I was too logy on a recent evening to take any decisive action when I suddenly found myself assaulted by a TV show. At one point it was simply piddling background noise to be safely ignored. I thought it was a commercial. Just a long commercial, and, after a while, one that had overstayed its welcome. It wasn’t until after five minutes I realized that this was actually a show.
The show in question is called “Cavemen”. It is part of ABC’s bold Fall lineup, and it exists as a potent reminder of what a horrible existence we humans lead on this earth.
If you’re at all familiar with what passes for popular culture in our society — and I consider myself somewhat versed in television, if only tangentially at times — you might be aware of the Geico advertistments which feature actual cavemen as the agents provocateur.
The general premise for the television show mirrors that in the commercial. It is all piled mercilessly upon the schtick that Neanderthals (or a similar biped from the more hunched, left end of the evolutionary diagram) have stopped evolving in any demonstrative fashion and have existed simultaneously (presumably) for hundreds of thousands of years alongside Cro-magnon man. And like us modern sapiens, these cavemen — despite their genetic predispositions for fashioning basalt spearheads and discovering fire — suffer from the prosaic angst we humans have consensually owned as our lifelong affliction.
In the commercial, these hombres erectus wax pathetic to unfeeling psychologists, explore frustratingly complex inter-personal relationships, and debate meta-physical reality in all its confusing glory. The 30-minute show provides this same launch platform for caveman ennui (sans a conventional laugh track).
It really is astonishing, the gall of ABC, to even consider showcasing this tripe. Do they expect the hoi polloi to swallow such a wildly unreasonable concept: a commercial that has shed its cocoon to emerge as a prime-time butterfly? Does ABC honestly believes this transaction is transparently on the up-and-up, that we are so gullible, so starved for self-referential Splendatainment that we’ll gladly line up to be force fed like a foi gras goose?
The idea is laughable at face value. Yet there it was, on television. In prime time, nonetheless. The synopsis of the debut episode is thus: one of the cavemen, I dunno, “Robert(?)”, who happens to be roommates with two other cavemen (let’s call them “Phil” and “Fred”1), is convinced that the hot, blonde, female sapien action he’s been getting is illusory.
Robert is wracked with the same self-doubt and confidence issues that is so endemic to us all. He is convinced his girlfriend is ashamed to admit to her friends that she is getting porked by some guy with as much hair on his knuckles as on his back (which is a lot, for the record). However, once he confronts her — while she is enjoying drinks with her friends — at some trendy watering trough, he ultimately finds his fears have been unjustified.
Prior to this singular, episode-changing event, the other roommates go on a shopping spree to soften the blow of impending romantic disaster, indulging in crass materialism as a panacea (just like us humans!). However, it is with such boarish levity that Cavemen lowers the discourse. And this exists as the core of show: cavemen, like minorities and teenage Goths, are misunderstood. They may look different, and technically be another species (as one caveman tells his roommate, “keep your penis in your genus”), but underneath that primordial hypodermis lies the same vulnerable, quivering core of uncertainty, a fleeting, shallow and crass individual preoccupied with Pinkberry and fair trade coffee.
The very real societal maladies of over-generalization and false stereotypes are simply swept aside in favor of a running gag. It is hard to imagine how this can be kept up for the average length of an SNL skit, much less an entire broadcast network season.
The Cavemen environs are quintessential L.A. in all its wondrous self-indulgence. The roommates — despite being underemployed — live somewhat luxuriously in a well-appointed apartment replete with the latest modular IKEA wall units and kitchen systems. They have gym memberships, where they twiddle away the desperate details of their painful lives while walking on treadmills. All the chicks are generically hot, vacuous model types. The writers of the show are letting you into their world. They constantly sift through the detritus and present polished nuggets of pop cultural aphorisms that simultaneously denigrate and exhalt modernity.
I imagine they are a sick breed, these writers, wickedly smart and capable of absorbing trivial knowledge like a sheet of Bounty (the “quicker picker-upper”), yet with a healthy predilection for the absurd. While you or I or any other aging doofus is pefectly satisfied with indulging our camp fetish by bowling on Rock’n'Bowl night and drinking domestic beer by the pitcher, this is the sort of freak whose idea of getting his ironic rocks off is getting blown by a transgender high-rent call girl while a repeat of Family Guy plays on the hotel television, all the while texting his girlfriend on his iPhone AND watching some midget fist a dog on RedTube.
Cavemen is a paean to our drive-through society, encapsulating everything it stands for but at the same time saying nothing at all. After we willingly suspend our disbelief that modern day humanoids actually do exist (and shop at Abercrombie & Fitch), the viewer is presented with additional logical fallacies that on the surface seem to spark intellectual curiosity, yet fail to deliver satisfactorily. For instance, the fact that Neanderthals do exist appears to validate the core tenets evolutionary theory, and that they are consumed with consumerism and suffer the trappings of modern human culture and discourse speaks somewhat to Social Darwinism.
However, the opposite argument can be made; Neanderthals and Cro-magnons exist together because that is exactly how the Intelligent Designer created them 6,000+ years ago. God in this case allowed Neanderthals, unlike the dinosaurs, to continue existing. Albeit, he put them in cashmere V-neck sweater vests. It’s all part of the plan.
This sort of maddening dichotomy acts as a governor, keeping the show from driving too fast. This parallels our existence here in America, where a President can veto a $5 billion bill that extends healthcare for children, dismissing it as impractically expensive, yet go before Congress and demand an additional $150 billion to fund some wayward nation-building wet dream half a world away. With a straight face.
Then it struck me. Cavemen is an intentionally evil work of madcap satire. It is a carefully crafted alternate universe, a Kafka-ish dream state, one whose narrative constructs a meta-reality so insanely ludicrious that it defies the imagination. It mines territory heretofore unexplored by previous entries to the genre (e.g. the movie Encino Man, which existed mostly to capitalize on the brief supernova-like existence that was the career of Pauly Shore). The bulldada absurdity is viscerally poignant, so real and material you can smell it. It’s akin to screening David Lynch’s The Elephant Man in a convalescent home for a bevy of unwitting octogenarians, after dosing them with peyote and Dulcolax.
Cavemen is essentially a 30-minute malapropism built around a loosely constructed plot. The plot doesn’t matter. It doesn’t need to. It only exists as a greaser, a non-stick lube that allows a light, crispy, trans-fat-free breading to easily separate from the surface.
Cavemen reminds us of our shallow, empty and mindless pursuits of pomp and artifice2. And for this alone, it is eminently qualified as fantastically lurid agit-prop that happens to use the premise of two hairy knuckle draggers playing Nintendo Wii as its delivery vehicle.
Then the following sitcom came on with four guys3 who carpool to work together AND IT WAS THE SAME EXACT SHOW.
Cavemen
Tuesday nights, 8/7 Central
ABC
Footnotes
1These are not really the cavemen’s names, but they might as well be.
2 Also, it reminds us of how all men just want to get laid.
3 One of these guys was the fat kid from Stand by Me, who is the latest beneficiary of Rebecca Romjin’s incessant proclivity to marry down.
Via her sweet curtsy @Portlandfood.org, we are introduced to McAuliflower’s Brownie Points and her very naughty X-Rated Cupcakes.
I would try this with mini-meatloafs, but that would be getting way too uncomfortable. On many, many levels.
Strange but true: Evander Holyfield releases Real Deal Grill. (Engadget)
Truth really is stranger than fiction: not only has one former heavyweight champion managed to make a lucrative post-boxing career hawking electric cooking appliances, but now yet another former champ is throwing his proverbial apron into the ring with the release of Evander Holyfield’s Real Deal Grill.
No word if it can multi-task by cooking a dozen simultaneous meals for all of your illegitimate children. Also, there’s noted, potential defect in that Mike Tyson might show up and bite off the handle. Buyer beware.
Taqueria Delicias Mexicanas lies on the south end of NE Lombard, at the crook where the throughway leaves the northern boundary of Cully and officially completes a transformation into the PDX Airport back door express highway (Gartner’s Meat Market, Taqueria Estacion, and two inscrutably vague strip clubs1 notwithstanding).
It’s got a fairly noticeable sign, so while it may be easy to miss it once, after that it’s impossible to miss. The last few years I’ve made dozens upon dozens of trips past this spot, sometimes even in search of tacos. But it wasn’t until just recently that I finally stopped by.
The joint is a sit-down taqueria, with table service and chips and salsa and everything. I stopped by on an recent early Sunday just after dropping a friend off at the airport.
The have an extensive menu for a place that bills itself as a taqueria (including serving beer). Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, and Part 5.
The salsa was a perfectly fine table sauce.
The chips were stale.
The taco triumvarite. I believe the tortillas at Taqueria Delicias are commercial. As you can see, I added a fourth taco, in this case a fish. I noticed some mariscos items on the menu and wanted a baseline in that department to determine if perhaps Delicias warranted a repeat visit for a coctel de camarones.
A fully dressed taco. The table sauces at Delicias are serviceable, if a bit tame.
Asada. The meat was chewy, and, as you can see, not very crisp. Somewhat funky in taste, as it had been sitting uncovered in a fridge for a bit too long.
Pastor. These were thin sheets of pork (leg?), pounded thin, and seasoned with adobo seasoning. Not bad, but not terribly good either.
Carnitas. On the bland side, with little of the rich, unctuous quality you’d associate with a superlative carnitas.
So how was the fish? Ugh. The meat consisted mostly of that fatty lip of the belly you would normally THROW AWAY. Furthermore, many pieces still had pieces of flabby skin attached to the gamy, ersatz flesh. The fish (maybe trout? tilapia?) was, well, fishy, and very “off”. I could not finish the taco.
With the Estacion taco truck just a bit further east, and with a few solid options in Concordia/Alberta, I’m not sure how Taquerias Delicias Mexicanas deserves a repeat visit. I’ve heard some generally positive things about their desayunos from a couple sources, so perhaps for a safe breakfast it might warrant a return.
Taqueria Delicias Mexicanas
5800 NE Portland Hwy
Portland 97218
(503) 493-0075
Footnotes
1 One of these strip clubs is non-alcoholic, meaning they are underage-friendly. There’s a cover charge and a one drink minimum. Watching full frontal with a bunch of 19-year old Mexican national daylaborers — all while sipping on a Fresca — is a very surreal, uncomfortably self-aware moment. Or so I’m told.
Food Dude reports that Fatburger will be opening a location across the river in Vancouver.
While I’d much prefer In-n-Out (this month while traveling I’ve had four Animal Style burgers), it’s nice to have a SoCal burger chain option that has been immortalized by Ice Cube in that one song where he got his Fatburger on after happening upon a financial windfall in a neighborhood dice game AND hitting a female companion (who even provided marijuana as an incentive) so hard in the sack that he imparted such sexual satisfaction that she fell asleep as a result.
In Portland, a Golden Age of Dining and Drinking (NY Times)
In the way New York drew artists in the ’50s, this city at the confluence of the Willamette and Columbia Rivers seems to exert a magnetic lure on talented chefs who come from almost anywhere else and decide to stay right here. About the hardest thing to find in Portland these days is a homegrown chef.
Portland may seem an unlikely place for such status, a city destined to play second string on the West Coast to San Francisco and Seattle. But in the last five years or so Portland has grown and evolved.
At first it was a sort of underground stop for food and wine lovers who had heard word of small, fascinating restaurants run by young, talented chefs serving a bounty of local produce. It’s underground no more. Portland has emerged from its chrysalis as a full-fledged dining destination.
This is a classic Vietnamese seafood soup with a flavorful stock that draws flavor from a crab (or shrimp) paste “whip”, tomatoes and — like nearly all southeast Asian soups — fresh and distinctly aromatic herb garnishes.
The genesis for this version of Bún Riêu was the leftover carcass of a Diestel turkey. Pork pork neck bones were added as the stock starter, in addition to a combination of seafood-ish elements. Traditionally, if you are going full out, you’d get a whole crab and use that as your stock starter.
A big flavor component in this particular Bún Riêu was imparted by a couple dried seafood ingredients. Dried shrimp and dried scallops are added when simmering and removing the stock, adding a wonderful complexity. Dried shrimp are an easy score – most Asian (and all Vietnamse/Thai) markets will have them, and on the cheap, too. The dried scallops are another issue. They can be spendy, but they’re big on flavor, so a little goes a long way.
Here’s a commercially available crab paste which can be used for the protein “whip”. This brand is Taste Nirvana.
A Thai brand.
One thing I appreciate about Taste Nirvana is the seal on their label boasting of being 100% Real. When I cook, it’s important to me that the ingredients I use actually exist.
I’ve used shrimp sauce as well. A note on shrimp sauce: Shrimp sauce can come in a variety of forms. Lee Kum Kee makes a version that looks like a sludgy concrete slurry that’s probably best used to pave parking lot structures. Stay away from it. The kind you want is pinkly hued with a fair amount of crimson oil.
This version, in particular, had the word “Bún Riêu” right there on the label. Amazing, the serendipity. Don’t use the concentrated Thai variety (which is a very thick, dark red paste), Malaysian, or the Filipino versions.
A note on garnishes: I’ve added freshly poached shrimp and scored filets of squid, in addition to sliced raw onion and green onions. Fresh herbs really are essential to Bún Riêu – cilantro and the mint are vital, IMO. Spearmint, saw leaf herb, thai basil, in addition to more exotic herbs like fish mint and Vietnamese coriander (rau rahm) — it’s all good. Bean sprouts are essential, as is a squeeze of citrus (I prefer lemon with my Bún Riêu). Other garnishes could be a pinch of chiffonade of lettuce and banana blossoms.
Bún Riêu
Preparing the Broth
- Pre-made pork bone or chicken broth or both. Obviously a lot…a couple gallons or more.
- 2-3 tablespoons tamarind soup paste or 1/2 Tamarind packet (such as Knorr)
- Two dozen shrimp
- A few cuttlefish/calamari bodies, sliced to create 1 or 2 inch “filets”, and scored horizontally
- Dried shrimp (a little more than a dozen or so)
- Dried scallops (four or five)
- Small handful Whole peppercorns (white and black)
Add all ingredients together, bring to a boil. Remove fresh shrimp and calamari once they are cooked through, and set aside as garnish. Simmer on lowest setting for an hour.
Preparing the “Whip”
- Crab or Shrimp paste (2/3 of small jar – see the note above)
- Dried shrimp and scallop from broth (above)
- 10-12 raw shrimp
- 1 egg + 5 egg whites
- Ground white pepper
- 2 finely chopped green onions
Strain the broth. Remove dried shrimp and scallops. Using a mini-prep processor, grind up the shrimp/scallops, followed by raw shrimp. Give a few pulses to get a coarse grind. Beat eggs in a large mixing bowl, and add all remaining ingredients and mix into a paste.
Finishing the Broth
- 1 white onion, thinly sliced
- Vegetable oil
- 3 large tomatoes, cut into 1/8ths
- Fish sauce aka Nuoc Mam
- “Whip” from above
Fry the white onions. Add tomatoes and onions into broth, bring to boil. Stir and lower to low grade, simmering boil. Season the broth with nuoc mam as needed.
Grab the “whip” mixture and, using a medium spoon, drop lumps of the mixture into the undulating broth. These lumps will soon cook, rise to the top, and create a networked island of protein floatillas.
Turn off the heat and let stand for a half hour to meld flavors.
Assemble and Serve
Boil rice noodles and rinse with cold water. Assemble 4 ounces or so in a bowl. Garnish with shrimp and squid, paper thin sliced raw red onions, cilantro, chopped green onions, basil, mint, cilantro, culantro, Vietnamese coriander, bean sprout, etc. I like to give the bowl a quick 20 seconds in the microwave to bring things up to lukish-warm.
Pour hot broth over the soup, making sure to get a few choice protein flotillas. Squeeze lemon and snip a bird chili. You’re there.
Closeup shot of a protein floatilla. The texture is hard to describe, and could be somewhat offputting for the virgin, but once you get a craving you don’t lose it.
Let the East Bloom Again. (NY Times).
The increasing demand for water in the Western United States in an era of diminishing supply has put America’s highly efficient agricultural system in jeopardy. At the same time, our nation’s energy demands have led President Bush and Congressional leaders from both parties to call for more domestic production of biofuels like corn ethanol. Some agricultural experts fear that the country does not have enough water and land to both replace the declining agricultural production in the arid West and expand the production of biofuels.
There is, however, a sustainable solution: a return to using the land and water of the East, which dominated agriculture in the United States into the 20th century.
Nutritionists: Soda making Americans drink themselves fat. (CNN)
If you’re searching for a villain in America’s obesity epidemic, most nutritionists tell you to put one picture on the wanted poster: a cold, bubbly glass of soda pop.
Full of sugar, soda adds calories without making a person feel full, nutritionists say.
“Liquid candy” to detractors, sweetened soft drinks are so ubiquitous that they contribute about 10 percent of the calories in the American diet, according to government data.
In fact, said Dr. David Ludwig, a Harvard endocrinologist whose 2001 paper in the Lancet is widely cited by obesity researchers, sweetened drinks are the only specific food that clinical research has directly linked to weight gain.
“Highly concentrated starches and sugars promote overeating, and the granddaddy of them all is sugar-sweetened beverages,” said Ludwig, who runs the Optimal Weight for Life Program at Children’s Hospital in Boston.
I find the bacon fat milkshakes to be more of a problem, myself.
I recently had an accident while moving an in-window air conditioning unit in my house. Rather than get down on myself and lament how much of a worthless loser I am, I instead got a craving for skate wing.
Skate is very affordable, as this package from Whole Foods attests.
The skate from WF does include a thin, translucent sheet of bone that easily separates from the flesh once cooked.
Speaking of cooking, I simply salted and peppered the skate, and dropped it into a broad frying pan that had been coated with a good layer of extra virgin olive oil. I snipped some Mediterranean oregano, marjoram and parsley from the garden, and piled the herbs on top of the filet with a smashed garlic clove, and flipped to sear. Just a few minutes per side.
I removed skate, deglazed the pan with a shot of white wine and lemon juice, and poured over the seared filet (after removing that thin bone layer).
Of all the winged fish, skate is clearly the tastiest.
Greenspan: Market Turmoil Is Not My Fault (NY Post)
September 14, 2007 — Alan Greenspan says don’t blame him for the latest market turmoil.
The former Federal Reserve chairman said critics who have argued recently that he helped bring on the crisis in the market for risky home loans by cutting interest rates for three straight years “are mistaken.
“It was our job to unfreeze the American banking system if we wanted the economy to function,” Greenspan told CBS’ “60 Minutes” during an interview to be broadcast on Sunday.
“This required that we keep rates modestly low.”
Greenspan said he didn’t recognize until very late in 2005 that the dubious lending practices – which gave homebuyers loans with low adjustable rates that could jump to precipitous levels – were serious enough to damage the economy.
“While I was aware a lot of these practices were going on, I had no notion of how significant they had become until very late,” he said.
Compare with this from 2/23/04: Greenspan says ARMs might be better deal (USA Today)
Federal Reserve Chairman Alan Greenspan said Monday that Americans’ preference for long-term, fixed-rate mortgages means many are paying more than necessary for their homes and suggested consumers would benefit if lenders offered more alternatives.
In a standing-room-only speech to the Credit Union National Association meeting here, Greenspan also said U.S. household finances appeared generally sound, despite rising debt levels and bankruptcy filings. Low interest rates and surging home prices have given consumers flexibility to manage debt, he said.
“Overall, the household sector seems to be in good shape,” Greenspan said.
What a fucking hack.
A few Xmas-es ago, I got my sister and her boyfriend a Calphalon grill pan as a present. Since they live in San Francisco, amongst the beatniks, grifters, and militant hobos, they are cramped for space and don’t have an outdoor patio by which to grill tasty meats. They claim the Calphalon is the best pan they’ve ever used for cooking steaks indoors. I tend to think nothing tops an old, worn-out cast iron pan, but I’ll let them think what they want.
Then I watched an episode of America’s Test Kitchen on PBS. That preachy Vermont guy and his trusty oily sidekick ran through a number of stovetop grill pans and proclaimed the Calphalon was the only brand that was worth its anodized aluminum.
Since I always need my decisions validated by a third party, I decided to pick one up for myself.
Also, since I had a leftover gift card from Christmas, I bought one of these meat tenderizers. I recalled flipping through the SkyMall™ during some flight and they featured this meat tenderizer that boasted it could make even the most erstwhile cut of beef as tender as sheets of caul fat soaked in rendered lard. Or something.
As you can see, the prongs of the tenderizer are quite menacing. I’m surprised a meat tenderizer was never used as plot device in the Sopranos.
To test the claims of the shameless copywriters who work for SkyMall™, I decided to pick up a grass-fed top round steak from Whole Foods, a cut you wouldn’t generally eat in steak form. I proceeded to rock the shit out of that flesh, nailing it a dozen times per side, then salted and peppered the pulverized steak before christening on the Calphalon. For good measure I sauteed some red chard in the same grill pan.
So did it work? Does the meat tenderizer make a top round taste like a filet mignon? Of course not, you fucking fool. But it does help a bit, especially if you intend to marinade your meat.
Sometimes, especially on the tail end of a late, warm summer’s eve, all you really need is some grilled beef, crusty bread, and sliced tomatoes. A cold beer and a seventh-inning stretch, and it reminds you that being alive is sometimes preferable than the alternatives.
I like to keep it working-class by using a sliced flat iron or sirloin (pictured above, from New Seasons market here in Portland). The steak itself is simply brushed with olive oil, and seasoned with sea salt and coarse cracked pepper. Maybe a couple sprigs of fresh rosemary from the garden.
Stack each slice of bread with tomatoes and a few slices of steak, and swallow.
The best part? The tomato/steak juice residue that collects on the plate. Be sure to save a couple slices of bread to sop this up, as this is the essence of life itself.
Portland bewitches travelers, rain or shine (CNN.com).
In the winter, the residents of this Pacific Northwest city hunker down for the gray rain that drills the city sidewalks for days on end. Locals drink loads of strong coffee, read books and take up knitting with zeal reserved in other parts of the nation for church going or clubbing.
But when the sun comes out to stay — locals say it comes around the Fourth of July and stays till around Halloween — Portland blossoms and easily assumes its sweet-scented moniker, the City of Roses.
Both sunny and rainy Portland are well worth checking out.
Voodoo Doughnut…Stumptown…Powell’s…blah blah…Mother’s…blah blah…Doug Fir…and so on and so forth.
An organic milk ripoff. (CNNMoney.com)
Some consumers pay $5 or $6 a gallon for organic milk, up to twice as much as the conventional kind. They’re not always getting their money’s worth.
A company that supplies milk to Wal-Mart, Costco, Target and Safeway was charged last week with selling milk labeled organic that failed to meet the national organic standards.
From a few nights ago, while re-configuring my Wii and scanning for wifi access points.
Maybe I should get out more often.
Turn your backyard barbecue green. (CNN.com)
Labor Day, Memorial Day and the Fourth of July are the most popular days to cook outside on the grill says the Hearth, Patio & Barbecue Asssociation. Americans grill with a passion, the group notes, with eight out of 10 U.S. households owning a grill or smoker and half use it more than four times a month.
…
But if you’re one of the growing number of Americans who are also becoming passionate about the environment, you may be concerned that your backyard barbecue is adding to global warming and wondering what you can do to make burger flipping a bit more environmentally sound.
Shut the fuck up.
A 45-minute drive from Cannon Beach, in Bay City, Oregon, is a place called Pacific Seafood that processes oysters from the sea.
Bay City is on a bay. Here’s the proof. That’s the bay. Presumably, that’s the source for the oysters themselves. The sea provides us humans with a delicious bounty.
Pacific Oyster itself is located at “150 Oyster Drive” in Bay City, which to me seems a bit over the top, as the “drive” in this case is a parking lot/pier. And the “150″ makes no sense at all, because it’s the only building on Oyster Drive. This made me mad for a short time.
This is where all the oyster processing happens. In the processing plant.
Oyster products, packaged and branded (those are smoked oysters up top). You can buy these products here, at the plant, and you’ll also find them at area grocery stores and purveyors of fine foodstuffs.
Spent oyster shells being shot into a collection bin. That’s one huge pile of oysters.
The shells are collected in bags and stacked at the far end of the pier. I’m not sure what is done with the shells at this point. Presumably a freighter comes along and picks up the load and carts it off to a faraway land where oyster shells are prized and used as currency. Some place like The Phillipines or Hawaii.
I know what you’re saying. So what? Why are you taking us to a sea snot factory? What next, the inside of a fucking dairy? Well, consider yourself lucky that you’ve read this far, because…
Pacific Seafood sells oysters to eat on the premises! Its actually a restaurant, that, in addition to the raw oysters you see above, serves sandwiches and other fare. But this is an oyster post, so on to the oysters. They were out of kumamotos, which pissed me off goddamnit, because that’s why I basically drove 45 minutes to Bay City, OR, braving Highway 101…
…to endure crappy scenery like this. The Oregon coast really is a shithole. Nature’s taint.
So after cursing my bad luck, I composed myself and ordered a dozen Pacific Oysters — a half dozen xtra-smalls and another half dozen smalls.
The xtra-smalls. I love how they give you plenty of lemons. I hate when you order a dozen oysters and you get only one wedge. Life is too short to deprive yourself of citrus (and the specter of scurvy always lurks).
The “smalls”. Jesus, these were big. As a point of reference, that’s a normal-sized lemon wedge.
I had a hard time choking these down. The first 6 xtra-smalls slid down no problem, but by the third “small” I was starting to fatigue. I had to leave the last oyster on the ice. If, like me, you have a hard time choking down large raw oysters, I would stick to the xtra-smalls (or the kumamotos of course). The “small” would make a good frying or grilling oyster, though. I can only wonder what the mediums are like. Probably similar in size to a pork chop or a chihuahua.
Pacific Seafood
150 Oyster Dr.
Bay City, OR 97053
503-377-2323
Further Reading
“Pacific Seafood – Bay City, Lunch on the Coast” (thread @Portlandfood.org)
I encourage you all to check out Jeni’s fantastic series of posts from her recent travels in Vietnam.
Via Alison @Blogtown, I was reminded of the recent opening of Mark Lindsay’s Rock & Roll Cafe, where, in addition to undoubtedly being exposed to an inordinate amount of flair, you’ll be be able to chow on creative menu items such as “Yellow Submarines” and “Freebird”.
It is a little known fact, but I do a bit of menu consultation in my free time. Here’s some of the items that did not make the cut, for some reason:
Smells Like Teen Spirit
“Chef’s Special” – A melange of pubic armpit hairs piled on top of a filet of ennui.
Bridge Over Troubled Water
Three breadsticks served over a bowl of bouillon cubes reconsititued from toilet water.
We Didn’t Start the Fire
"Wheel of Fortune, Sally Ride, heavy metal, suicide" – Our take on the RAW FOOD TSUNAMI THAT’S TAKING AMERICA BY STORM!!!
Baby Got Back (Ribs)
We gots da grills for your grillz!
You Can’t Always Get What You Want
Peking-style duck (requires 24-hour notice).
I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For
(Same as above, but requires 48-hour notice).
I Wanna Be Sedated
Chicken nuggets laced with Ritalin® (Kid’s Menu Item).
Should I Stay or Should I Go
A sloppy joe studded with Colace and served with a Kaopectate aioli (on the side).
I had happy hour at Ten 01 recently. The place is the namesake of its address, which is 1001 NW Couch (For those new to Portland, “Couch” is not pronounced as you think. In fact, it took about 3 years before I was comfortable enunciating it correctly).
Ten 01 apparently got off to a rough start, but supposedly have righted the ship by hiring a capable chef from Southern California who has come in and established some consistency. At least that’s conventional wisdom. I definitely liked what I saw when I stopped by for a great happy hour meal here. The bar area is a real knockout. It’s a nice space.
Some drink with a kumquat. Forgot the other details (vodka?), but as you can see, it had a very sweet and delicious kumquat. Refreshing. Great cocktail.
Romaine with lemon-garlic dressing and toasted grana padano.
Bason-shallot tater tots. These were croquettes of bacon-n-alium-infused mash potatoes, breaded and fried. That sounds tasty. It was.
Burger sliders with Tillamook white cheddar. I loved them. The sauce was, I would say, a grain mustard aioli? The burgers were cooked expertly, slightly pink in the center. Scrumptious.
Sliders upskirt.
Fried green tomatoes. Unexpectedly (too) tart.
Oysters with that mignonette thingy (apple and pink peppercorn, in this case). Fresh, briny, delicious.
Pulled pork sliders. Meh. We ordered these last, so maybe I was just too stuffed. But it wasn’t really pulled as much as I thought it would be, and the seasoning was quite tame.
Ten 01
1001 NW Couch Street
Portland, OR 97209
Further Reading
Big bucks spent in fight over pennies. (Houston Chron)
Now, the fate of the penny is up in the air once again. With the price of zinc soaring amid a worldwide commodities boom, it costs the government almost 2 cents to make each 1-cent coin — a pretty penny considering roughly 8 billion new ones are placed into circulation annually.
That’s not exactly chump change. But we are chumps.
Taqueria Don Pancho
2000 NE Alberta St
Portland, OR 97211
(503) 459-4247
In northeast Portland, there is a good taqueria called Taqueria Don Pancho.
As the name suggests, they have tacos. No carnitas, so a fish taco pinch hit to complete the taco triumvarite.
The menu.
Split shot of the garnish bar.
Carne asada.
Pastor.
Fish.
The red and green sauces.
I love Don Pancho. The tacos, at $1.25 a clip, are tasty little buggers. No carnitas, but the fish is a bargain at that price. They are not baja style fish tacos, these are fried (but not battered) — and then grilled — pieces of tilapia flesh. Sometimes they use pieces extracted from a whole fried tilapia (which is also on the menu) that are then re-crisped on a hot grill, but last time it was actually distinct fried pieces. The tacos are consistently crisp and tasty. The pastor are tasty little nuggets of crisp pork, and the asada is at the very worst very serviceable.
In terms of the Alberta Street taco, Don Pancho is the clear favorite. Anybody who claims La Sirenita is even worth your time hates Mexican food and the Mexican people.
I highly enjoy the table sauces the fine folks at Don Pancho serve up at the garnish bar. They are both high quality, well-made sauces that, incidentally…
Are available next door at el Mercado.
The have a small but excellent butcher counter, with several pre-prepped, pre-marinaded items, and all the excellent cuts and slices favored by Mexican cooks.
Even if you don’t intend to buy anything after your tacos, it’s worth visiting el Mercado just to remind yourself that the most popular brand of baked goods in Mexico is called “Bimbo”.
This website was so mesmerizing, I spent 20 minutes learning about a toilet.
This is the Cadillac Escalade of toilets. My anus deserves no less.
“We all know that by staying here it’ll be a good high this year
So what’s the use to staying there if you’ve got no use for time
The fitness coast is growing near
The shores they don’t stay blond all year
The continent moves with growing fears
Its all for expensive lawn”
— “Date with Ikea”, Pavement, off the 1997 album Brighten the Corners
The Ikea in Portland had been open for a little under two weeks when I dropped by on a Sunday evening. My wife was on an extended stay in the oncology wing at the Sunnyside Kaiser Permanente, and since we are moving to a new house soon and there was no internet access at the hospital, I figured I’d shoot up I-205 and score a printed catalog so she could fete her compulsive shopping behaviors from the safe confines of her hospital bed.
My first mistake was to go to Ikea.
I had somewhat fond memories of my last visit, when we braved the drive up I-5 to Renton a few years ago to hit the Seattle-area Ikea. We picked up a load of furniture in flat boxes, some things which over the years have been relegated to erstwhile and forgotten nooks and crannies throughout our house (and yard and garage), or items which have simply been thrown away. I do enjoy the kitchen items, though (best colander ever).
But I had visions of my hyper-efficient meatball plate I had procured in the sterile Ikea cafeteria. 15 perfectly round balls of meat, 126 grams of boiled red bliss potatoes, topped with 60mL of strangely creamy brown gravy, and accompanied on the side by 22mL grams of ligonberry sauce. An assembly that existed as a shining paragon of the Ikea philosophy: fleeting, throwaway uber-productivity that permeates every umlaut-bestowed line of build-it-yourself furniture. A cheap, quick crack cocaine hit, the equivalent of a power pop one-hit wonder, here today, gone tomorrow…the Harvey-Danger’s-Flagpole-Sitta of culinary experiences.
The route to the Portland Ikea is trepidatious. One wrong turn off the Airport Way access road and you’ll find yourself on the way to the Dalles or some random Comfort Inn or the Airport long-term parking lot. After nearly taking all of these wrong turns — and flipping several, extremely illegal U-turns — I made my way to Cascade Station, only to find the Ikea overrun with lecherous cretins collectively paying homage to the great cobalt Jesus.
The parking lot was full, and those late to the party (and this was nearly 7pm) were being diverted to one of many makeshift dirt parking lots that rimmed the periphery of the Ikea expanse. Flaggers wearing bright orange vests expedited the flow of traffic into these cattle yards. It had the feel of the county fairgrounds parking lot before a Monsters of Rock (or Ozzfest) mega-concert.
After walking nearly a half mile, I now found myself amongst the flocks of ebullient minions. These were pilgrims on a hajj to fulfill some perverse post-consumerism wet dream.
I was saluted by these colorful, flowing Ikea flags. This lent an air of diplomatic fanfare to the occasion, much like as if I was visiting the United Nations.
As you enter, you are presented with a couple options. Take the escalator to start the “tour”, or deposit your kid at the brat bank, where you’ll be given a pager in exchange for your first born. You’ll be able to wander aimlessly throughout the Ikea showroom knowing your child is accounted for. The pager is a nice touch — if little Johnny accidentally impales himself with the disassembled leg of a MAMMUT children’s polypropylene table, you’ll be the first to know.
On the top floor awaits the Ikea cafeteria. Presumably it’s situated at the mouth of the showroom so as to suggest that you’ll need the sustenance in order to brave the long, winding, Canterbury-ish journey on which you’re about to embark.
As you can see, the cafeteria was overflowing with hordes of angry consumo-bots eager to get their lingonberry on. It was seriously longer than the Space Mountain lines I used to encounter at Disneyland as a child. My meatball fetish would have to wait, as there was no way on earth I was going to return to my wife at the hospital 2 hours later just because I needed a round meat fix. Maybe, if she was still on her morphine drip, but ever since she stopped riding the snake her concept of place and time had regretfully returned.
I did manage to snap a couple shots of a section of the menu, and a placard on a table bragging about a 99 cent breakfast. Amazing.
I asked about the catalogs. They won’t get their shipment of catalogs for a few weeks. This amounted to a wasted trip.
The saving grace in this case is that Ikea also features a small snack shop at the exit (with much shorter lines).
I picked up a $0.99 chocolate bar, mostly for the packaging (and the awesome way the Swedish spell “milk chocolate”)…
a $.50 hot dog…
and 2 cups of meatballs for $1 each. A dollar!
Here’s a closeup of the snack bar menu.
Each one dollar cup of meatballs contained 5 meatballs in brown gravy, with a single toothpick speared into the very top ball o’ meat.
These were not good. The meatballs were incredibly overcooked, and the bottoms were flattened and nearly burnt from the sheetpan on which they undoubtedly sat too long. This gave the lower half of each meatball the mouth feel of particle board. The long past-prime gravy had a consistency not unlike custard. A custard that had been made from coffee brewed from mop water infused with a nondescript spice profile (cardamom?). Despite my firm and unwavering adherence to my usual “No Meatball Left Behind” policy, I didn’t finish them all.
As I made the ignoble walk of shame back to my car in the dirt overflow lot, I couldn’t help but notice how the Cascade station MAX tracks intersected the pedestrian walkway with an aura of nonchalance that belied the fact that tons of metal — capable of killing large mammals at low speeds — regularly shuttled past this very spot with punctual regularity. I fear for the poor shlub, freshly sated with a recent over-indulgent orgy of consumerism, and logy from a few dozen meatballs and a cinnamon bun, who might get flattened thin as the box for that BESTÅ modular entertainment unit he was carrying back to his car.
For those driving or biking past the corner of Killingsworth and Denver looking for the taco truck Los Tres Hermanos, only to find themselves in a confounded, abject state of confused bewilderment, you need no longer suffer. The truck itself has itself sprung up a stoplight away @Interstate. I presume this is part of the lobbying effort from the pro-Cesar Chavez renaming cartel, which I understand has an uncommon influence upon this city’s political elite.
The truck is now on the south side of Killingsworth, west of Interstate, adjacent to the hinterlands (that currently exists as a makeshift parking lot until someone complains) that border a Chevron pumping station. It’s the same vehicle with the same menu board, except that nearly 1/4 of the menu items have been removed (i.e. crossed out). Here’s how it looked when the truck was 1/2 mile down the street earlier this year.
“Super Burrits” still refers (presumably) to burritos that are supersized mega-awesome gut bombs. The tacos are back down to $1.25, which brings it back to year 2006 levels. This is a small victory in the economic struggle against inflation and the devaluation of the American dollar.
They were out of pastor, so I had three asada tacos. The flavor was great, the carne a bit chewy but still very good. The tortillas still rock, double-stacked as usual. They were out of the creamy green sauce, and include a tomatillo-based thinner green sauce, and the red is thick and incendiary — I wish I knew how to get my own sauce this red. Other garnishes include radishes, and a relish of chopped fresh tomatoes and cabbage in lime juice.
I managed to pick up a dozen freshly made tortillas to-go for $2, but it required some back and forth, including cajoling on my part (which means I tried to speak Spanish). The last time I was at Tres Hermanos, a dozen ran $3 (but earlier in the year, $2. So basically it fluctuates).
I did not recognize any of the staff, nor their children. There has evidently been a change in ownership. I welcome our new taco overlords.
Via Je Mange la Ville, we get this totally awesome and mesmerizing clip of amateur gourmand Christopher Walken.
Let us also take this opportunity to pay homage to Walken’s ode to hotdogs.
Aquafina labels to spell out source – tap water. (CNN)
PepsiCo Inc. will spell out that its Aquafina bottled water is made with tap water, a concession to the growing environmental and political opposition to the bottled water industry. According to Corporate Accountability International, a U.S. watchdog group, the world’s No. 2 beverage company will include the words “Public Water Source” on Aquafina labels.
People are fucking idiots. Fuck bottled water.
Leahy Explains Cheney’s F-Bomb Incident, Says Hayes’ ‘Puff Piece’ Got It Wrong. (ThinkProgress)
The man would lie about what he had for breakfast today. (Miniature daschund hearts, if you need to know).
Via sparkrobot, beware the escolar, a cause of “Oily Orange Diarrhea”.
This has actually happened to me before. Like after most episodes of oily, brightly hued muck discharged from my anus, I chalked it up to a life experience, and felt like a better person as a result.
I have to apologize for the lack of anything on this blog. All 1.5 regular readers of this site I’m sure have supplanted the cerebral illuminance formerly gleamed from this blog with the mental acuity honed from the Highlights magazine swiped from a local pediatrician waiting room (that Goofus is one big retard, huh? And Gallant? Oh, what a prig!)
Life has caught up with me, and hospitals, family, and work take up most of my time these days. But I promise there will be blog posts, soon.
In the meantime, what’s happening out there in meat land? I heard some restaurant opened up and they’re serving food and some people like it while others thought everything was too salty. And there’s a movie or two out right now and a TV show (or three) and somebody wrote a column in the NY Times and somebody has some nice pictures they took with a digital camera and I understand that eating locally is sustainalicious, and lotsa, lotsa, lotsa other stuff. Also, I heard nobody likes George Bush. And I heard Dick Cheney was president for a day, which is taxonomically sufficient in order to file this post under my favorite category.
I’m not sure how I missed this, but these crazy fuckers went a hundred squared at In-N-Out a while back.
So, so wrong. Yet…mystical.
Alcohol Goes on a Health Kick. (NYTimes)
In an era of “natural” cigarettes, trans-fat-free chips and low-carb beer, it is probably no surprise that that last guilty pleasure, the cocktail, is trying to atone for its sins. And it isn’t just vegan restaurants serving more vitamin-rich vodka mixes and slinging vegetable gardens in a glass.
Whether absurd or merely inevitable, the idea of healthier tippling has started to catch on among those who have embraced things like organic food and low-sugar diets. Always ready to pounce on a fad, mixologists at trendy bars, restaurants and clubs in New York and Los Angeles have begun creating concoctions from organic fruit and vegetable purées and vitamin-filled sports drinks instead of gooey syrups.
That’s 2/3 of a pound of pork every minute. (The Oregonian)
With his face and hands slathered in barbecue sauce and a stack of bare pork ribs sitting vanquished in front of him Sunday afternoon, Joey “Jaws” Chestnut showed why he is the world’s top competitive eater.
Ten days after devouring a world-record 66 hot dogs in 12 minutes at the annual Nathan’s Famous Fourth of July Hot Dog Eating Contest, Chestnut inhaled 7.65 pounds of barbecued pork rib meat in 12 minutes at the Chinook Winds World Rib Eating Championship to defend his title for the second straight year.
This guy is becoming the Wilt Chamberlain of competitive eating.
Via the inestimable mczlaw at Portlandfood.org, we find that the paper of record deems Oregon’s Kettle Chips to be the chips that all other sucka chips should call sire.
I’ve intimated as much in my ode to Kettle’s Spicy Thai flavor.
Kettle is the OG of batch fried sliced potatoes.
Is a “Next Food Network Star” contestant a liar? Appears so, and he’s in the final four.
Will Kobayashi suffer lockjaw meltdown in his quest for six straight titles? Will young upstart Joey Chestnut recapture lost American glory? Or will a slim, dark horse chanteuse — who goes by the name of Sonja — upstage the men on this day of our country’s glorious independence?
Does anybody know what I’m talking about?
According to WWeek, Burgerville area locations are now showcasing seasonalicious Walla Walla onion rings.
This is rarely the only time Burgerville can even come close to attempting to feebly validate the merits of a Burgerville v. In-n-Out debate. Almost.
UPATE 7/20/07: You can try the tacos here, it’s a free country, but I can’t honestly recommend this place. We had a meal there this week (ordering off the menu) that was so abysmally bad that I have erased the memory of the existence of Las Nayaritas from mind. Too bad I’m reminded every time I look at my blog.
You’ve been warned.
Las Nayaritas is on the north end of North Lombard street. The glass storefront advertises some of the types of food you’ll be able to purchase and eat inside. I find this particular method of communication effective.
The inside wall has pictures. I like pictures. They are generally helpful.
You know what I really like? Those plastic replicas of the actual dishes themselves. However, the Japanese seem to be the only ones saavy enough to practice this art of pretense. So sad.
Las Nayaritas isn’t your conventional taqueria, in that you actually sit down and a menu is brought to you and waitrons — in this case a very friendly lady who most likely owns the place, and her chaming, shy daugheter — serve you like it was a real restaurant and everything.
They even bring chips and salsa. Gratis. The chips were fresh, warm, and toasty.
The table salsa was a very standard tomato based sauce. Somewhat erstwhile, but nothing bad by any means. Just somewhat perfunctory, but hey it’s free so shut the fuck up.
Tacos at Las Nayaritas run $1.50 apiece. There is a special, however, for four that will run you $5.00. If you do the math, that is $1.25 a taco. $1.25 is less than $1.50.
The taco triumvarite. Pastor, asada, and carnitas. Asada won today’s battle, as I tacked on an extra carne-A to complete the four taco special. Notice the single wrap; the tortillas at Las Nayaritas are a bit thicker/larger than your other taquerias.
The pastor I would describe more like adobado. It was probably basted with the sauce (or one similar to) that canned chipoltes are packed in. Not your usual, associative pastor flavors.
The asada was decent. Crisp, if somewhat gamey. I think the seasoning could be a bit more agressive.
The carnitas were the best of the batch. They look somewhat dry and stringey here, but they were actually quite good.
There’s a condiment bar, however, it would seem as though it’s not intended as a setup for diners to which to help themselves. Rather, it appears it’s the condiment station/mise en place for the waitrons to garnish your plates before delivery (I was brought a small ramekin of both red and green salsas, and some pickles).
By nature, I sit as close as I possibly can to anything that might even remotely look like a serve-yourself garnish setup. So everything was right there for me to help myself, but I did not want to break “the fourth wall”, as it were.
Wanting to help myself to the salsas, yet the apprehension I felt in doing so, led to a feeling of uneasiness, of an unrequited garnish fetish gone unfulfilled, that haunted me the entire meal. Though, granted, I ate all four tacos in less than 3 minutes.
The green salsa was particularly striking — verdant, bright, fresh.
The red was piquant, with a touch of smokiness.
Carrots and jalapenos en escabeche were a nice touch.
Los Nayaritas earns serious bonus point for free chips and salsa. I would pass on the pastor, and double up on carnitas and asada. They have quite a wide menu, even a couple seafood cocteles, so there’s much to be explored.
Las Nayaritas
2727 N Lombard St
Portland, OR 97217
(503) 286-3119
Things have been very hectic lately, with some very trying medical emergencies and life-threatening diseases affecting family and friends. Between shuttling between hospitals and the airport, my food salvation has been the taqueria in the back of La Tienda Santa Cruz in St. Johns.
I’ve eaten 16 tacos in the last three days. On weekends only, they feature suadero and carnitas, in addition to their excellent carne asada. The suadero…oh man.
The camarónes and carnitas plates, served with rice, bean, and slices of fresh avocado, are also available each fin de semana. Caldos too.
I can’t believe George Bush was elected once. The guy is really fucking retarded.
I mean, I’ve had bosses who I’ve hated, had bad taste in food, women, cars, music, and clothes, and who couldn’t navigate their way out of a Target parking lot, but still were much more advanced in terms of logistical and emotional maturity than George Bush. And most of them got fired. I’ve spent time at parties talking to coked-out, emotionally stunted self-fellatio enthusiasts who have exhibited greater capabilities for empathy.
So the fact he was elected once is amazing, though the actual “elected” part is up for debate. But twice? Half of the people in this country are really fucking stupid. And, even now, I’m so amazed to find that 29% of the population still swallows this flaccid dick’s cum. Man, you guys are fucking stupid. You should fuck off and stuff.
See Sicko. American healthcare sucks. We suck. Big time.
Fuck you.
PETA blasts Michael Moore for eating meat. (MSNBC)
The animal-rights group is blasting the filmmaker as a hypocrite for criticizing the U.S. healthcare system in his new documentary, “Sicko,” because they say he’s in such poor health himself.
“There’s an elephant in the room, and it is you,” PETA president Ingrid Newkirk wrote in a letter to Moore.
God bless Michael Moore. Go see Sicko, and say simultaneous FUs to greedy corporate health care AND PETA.
I have officially banned these products from my household, due to the offensive and annoying nature of their advertising.
The updated list, as it stands now:
- Vitamin Water
- Capital One
- Geico Insurance
- Bud Light
- Las Vegas
Check out Cabel’s place. He does yeoman’s work in telling us what the corporate taste alchemists have been cooking up via focus groups.
I received Andrea Nguyen’s Into the Vietnamese Kitchen as a gift some time ago, and I must say it is the best Vietnamese cookbook I’ve owned.
The design, layout, and organization are all wonderful. The photography sparkles, and Nguyen herself brings a confident and welcomed voice to the recipes and chapter intros.
It is quite a comprehensive tome, running the gamut from simple sauces to Vietnamese charcuterie. Nguyen provides a slick primer for bringing authenticity to the table, whether by describing various techniques or detailing a taxonomy of Vietnamese herbs complete with accompanying photos, descriptions, and corresponding Vietnamese nomenclature.
Ms. Nguyen also runs her own web site and blog, Viet World Kitchen, that is a great companion to the book. Graham @Noodlepie has recently published a Q&A with this great new voice in Vietnamese-American cuisine.
Foie gras could be tasty way to get Alzheimer’s. (Times Online)
FOIE GRAS, enjoyed as a luxury since ancient Egyptian times, may be linked to the onset of diseases including Alzheimer’s, type 2 diabetes and rheumatoid arthritis, researchers have suggested.
The scientists who carried out the study say those with a family history of such illnesses should consider avoiding foie gras.
The possible risk comes from “amyloid” proteins found in the delicacy, which is made from the swollen livers of force-fed geese and ducks. The proteins have been linked to the onset of all these conditions.
In their study, the researchers found mice fed on foie gras started growing amyloid proteins in various organs. They observed a similar result when extract of foie gras was injected into the rodents’ bloodstream.
This latest bit of alarmism doesn’t affect me either way, but I am still creeped out by this.
Via Adam K @Serious Eats, the burger with a patty made entirely of ground bacon.
This is like the first time I saw somebody do a windmill without allowing their butt to touch the cardboard, or ollie over a park bench. I didn’t believe it at first, shaking my head in amazement, and then basked in the awe of witnessing the occurrence. Over time I came to grips with my own inadequacy, and ultimately gave up breakdancing/skateboarding.
Continuing on the cold noodles post from last week, the hot months are here, and that also means gazpacho. On a hot day, I can eat a gallon of this stuff.
I like to blend my gazpacho (and use V-8), but add reserved chopped ingredients at the end, so there are two textures.
Soup
- 3 or 4 (depending on size) peeled, cored and chopped tomatoes NOTE: if you can’t get ripe tomatoes, use a fine brand of canned tomatoes (28oz)
- 2 cans V-8
- 4 cloves of garlic, chopped
- 1 red jalapeno, chopped
- 1 red pepper, cored, seeded, depithed, and coarsely chopped
- 1 English cucumber, peeled and coarsely chopped
- 2/3 red onion, coarsely chopped
- 1 cup (i.e. 1/2 a 16oz bag of peeled baby carrots) chopped peeled carrots
- 3 green onions, coarsely chopped
- 1/2 bunch flat leaf parsley, leaves only
- 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
- 2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
- 1 teaspoon or so sugar
- Few dashes of Worchestshire
Combine all the above in a blender. Blend to your liking. I don’t like it frothy. You can live your own life.
Garnish
- 1/3 red onion, finely diced
- 1/2 English cucumber, peeled and finely diced
- 3 chives, finely chopped
- 1/4 bunch chopped cilantro
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
Stir the above ingredients into the blended soup. Chill in the fridge at least a day.
At times, if I’m feeling a bit randy, I’ll top this off with chopped kalamata olives before eating.
Hell’s Kitchen. God this show sucks ass.
French wine militants threaten jihad. (“Wine militants threaten action”, Guardian UK)
In a tape sent anonymously to French TV a month ago, the shadowy militant organisation known as CRAV (Comité Régional d’Action Viticole or regional winegrowers’ action committee) threatened violent action if new President Nicolas Sarkozy did not take measures to help economically desperate wine growers in the France’s vast Languedoc-Roussillon area.
Batali and Bourdain Argue Over Adam Platt, the Egg Thief, and Much More. (New York Magazine)
Batali: It’s amazing, these fucking Websites, these blogs. [Otto co-owner] Jason Denton hasn’t even thought about this pizza restaurant that isn’t even a pizza restaurant across the street from Otto, and he’s getting quoted. I call him and say, “Lips. What are you doing?” and he’s like “I want to tell you, I’m never planning on opening a pizza restaurant … I don’t know what happened on the blog this morning.” Whatever the blog heard is now fact.
Bourdain: I think it’s great. They’ve beaten down the wall, and everybody’s invited to write whatever shit they want about you. It’s democratic.
Batali: I’m not so much about these blogs by anonymous people saying nasty things about you. I think it’s getting pretty stupid. If there’s something interesting, and there’s somebody editing it and taking care of it, I’m down with it. But some of those people are just bit with vituperative anger and just want to rail on you.
Bourdain: It’s inevitable, it’s the tide, there’ s no fighting it. There’s a bunch of these guys that are like Comic Book Guy on The Simpsons, whipping out their fucking little cameras, and five minutes after one of them says it’s the greatest, the next will say that’s so last week. That’s inevitable. I go to all those sites and enjoy them, especially when they’re about people I don’t like.
Batali: Well, I don’t like them.
Speaking of Comic Book Guy…
Sorry about that lame joke.
Via Blogtown…cucumber-flavored Pepsi.
“Pepsi Ice Cucumber” hit the stores this week, but it doesn’t actually have any of the green gourd in it. Instead it has been artificially flavored to resemble “the refreshing taste of a fresh cucumber,” said Aya Takemoto, spokeswoman of Japan’s Pepsi distributor, Suntory Ltd.
“We wanted a flavor that makes people think of keeping cool in the summer heat,” Takemoto said. “We thought the cucumber was just perfect.”
Just as I would switch to Mr. Sparkle for all my clothes washing needs, I would totally go for one of these.
[Drum roll]…Pok Pok!
This is like a David Lynch movie winning the Oscar for best picture, or Sonic Youth winning a Grammy. I commend their bold choice.
Let’s hear it for independent, earnest folks who toil in the trenches and stay true to the food and eschew the conventional wisdom. Let’s hope they are agent provocateurs that temper the prevailing trends of pomp and circumstance and hype. This town needs an enema.
It’s June. That means the return of the heat, and the start of the cold noodle season. Unless you find yourself living in Phoenix, at which point you should kill yourself.
There are two brands of instant cold noodles I frequent during the warm months. You can certainly buy dried noodles, such as chuka soba, and make your own dressing. Go ahead.
The first brand is Myojo Chukazanmai. This is a Japanese style, and the noodles cook up like conventional ramen noodles. Myojo, incidentally, is the Cadillac of instant ramen. Their broths (for their shoyu, hot bean paste, and XO lobster flavors) are unparalled.
Unlike many instant noodles, the noodle block — dried, hard, and brittle — is not fried. The instructions on the packet call for a cooking time of 5 to 6 minutes, but I wouldn’t take it a second further than 4 and half minutes, especially if you like your noodles al dente.
The dressing (which features soy, sesame paste and oil) is fantastic. They include a diminutive companion pack of hot mustard. Incidentally, if you get the prepared cold noodle dish in the deli case at Uwajimaya, this is what they are using — the unopened packets are right there in the plastic container. These noodles, prepared by the Uwajimaya staff and featuring egg and a few slivers of cucumber and roast park, are sold for $5.25, but you can pick the dried packets up on their shelves for $1.99. You do the math. You can also get Myojo at Fubonn for $1.39.
The second style is from the venerable Korean conglomerate Wang GlobalNet. Wang is a fine name in Korean foodstuffs, and their cold noodles are excellent.
You can find Wang in the freezer aisle at Uwajimaya, and it’s very affordable — $1.59 for a two-pack serving.
Once you defrost the brick hard noodle block, the strands are more similar to conventional fresh noodles. They cook up to a perfect toothsome consistency in just 3 minutes.
The dressing packet is a completely different style than Myojo, and like many Korean products, it is devilishly incendiary, red, and spicy. I find the dressing to be a bit too thick, so I’ll add a couple splashes of rice wine vinegar, and drizzle of sesame oil, and a squirt of soy to loosen things up a bit.
So what to put in/on/around your cold noodles? The packages themselves have some very helpful suggestions, and you can gleam some ideas from the photos featured on the packaging as well.
My mise place. In this case, sliced tamago egg omelette, sliced Japanese cucumber ($2.99/lb at Uwajimaya — small, slender, with a very thick, somewhat bitter skin), chopped green onions, julienne carrot, browned and sliced English cottage bacon, and chopped Italian parsley (I like the fresh, grassy essence it lends). Other suggestions: cilantro, various, delicious sliced hams of assorted styles and origin, Chinese-style BBQ pork (char siu), tomato, even celery.
Funny: Harry Reid on the 2008 GOP field.
Not Funny: Dennis Miller on Harry Reid.
The difference here is that Harry Reid is a senator. Dennis Miller is purportedly a comedian.
Bonus imaginary Dennis Miller schtick (cue smarmy voice) on his own career : I haven’t seen something go south this fast since Linda Lovelace after a blow bender. Topo Gigio! Cha cha!
I was constructing some pixels on the iErector Set this evening, and the History Channel fiddled in the background. It segued from a program on the history of cocaine to one concerning the meticulous nature of the ancient Mayan calendar and its systematic calculations (as decoded by the Dresden codex).
We are entering the tail end of this katun cycle.
And, if that wasn’t bad enough, it’s at the end of a processional cycle.
The Long Count is a large segment of time (1/5 of the 26,000-year cycle of the precession of the equinoxes) with a definite starting and ending point. The period began on August 11, 3114 BC and it ends on December 21, 2012.
The 256-year cycle of thirteen katuns, the “short count,” was clearly a Mayan prophecy cycle. Each of the 13 katuns has a specific “fate” attached to it and the Maya believed that the occurrence, or arrival, of each katun brought with it this fate.
Some days it’s best to not get out of bed.
Basically, the Mayans have portended that on Dec. 21, 2012, the earth will reach the center point of the Milky Way. Planets will thus align and a cosmic event will occur.
No biggie? Well, it happens only every 26,000 years or so, and Mayan creation mythology targets this conspicuous calendar day as the date of annihilation.
Before you poo-poo, let me remind you that the Mayans knew their shit. They built entire, intricate fucking pyramids and shit that soared into the heavens, all without cranes or Caterpillar trucks or CAD software. 500 years before the Spanish came and fucked shit up old school, the Mayans excelled in astronomy and mathematics, and developed a written language independent of any outside influence. Their calendar system was amazingly complex, and the Mayans grasped the concept of zero that allowed them to formulate large ass numerical concepts. Oh yeah, they also discovered chocolate.
And the Mayans have been through this before. Their civilization strangely collapsed in the 10th century. Go ask Mel Gibson. What did it? Who knows? Maybe environmental ruin and wars amongst rival city-states over increasingly scant resources (sound familiar?) contributed to the mysterious Mayan diaspora and demise of a once great intellectual society.
The rise to prominence of NASCAR and the creation of MySpace notwithstanding, I’ve been trying lately to be a bit more optimistic about life and the future. It’s all I can do to put my mind at ease when I contribute to my 401k twice monthly on payday. And ever since we rode that nasty Y2K juju out, I’ve felt somewhat redeemed by my lingering (undeserved) faith in the ability of mankind to just deal.
However, this now throws everything into flux. This, fermented with the loquacious doomsday congener that is that fucker James Howard Kunstler, is enough to foment in any guy with a 30-year home mortgage simultaneous dread and exhilaration.
What will this Mayan End of Times bring? On the day of the Winter Solstice, a little over four years from now?
Societies will rise, flourish, and perish. A new order will arise. This will usher in the start of a new katun cycle. “For half there will be food, others misfortune.”
Tumultuous and drastic change, devastation, socio-political disruptions on a magnitude unseen in human history. A test for our species…but yet an opportunity for transformation and renewal? Will humanity come to terms with itself and face its future?
The vital question is how to we prepare for this coming transformation. Could humanity be wiped off the face of the earth come 2012? What steps are we taking to prevent this cataclysmic event horizon?
Then a commercial for the iPhone comes on, which demonstrates how easy it is to get calamari in San Francisco.
HUMAN BREAST MILK CHEESE MADE IN FRANCE. (Why Travel to France)
Le Petit Singly is a farm that specializes in making cheese from women’s breast milk. Are you imagining the milking process? Admittedly, that imagery makes me come to the conclusion that it’s an absolutely bizarre and crazy world of cheesemaking in little ole Singly, France. But, no. I think the “donors” bring their milk to the farm, or something like that.
The cheese is produced exactly like it would be for cow’s milk and apparently tastes like it has hints of hazelnut. I still have my doubts about its existence, though. The farm says the cheese is rich in vitamins and nutrients but I don’t think these survive after being ultra-pasteurized. Also, they have an “AB” label, which is the official label for organic products. Does that mean that the women all grazed on organic?
That’s nothing. You should taste the truffles that grow on my taint.
All about the Darwinian journey at the website.
Pok Pok/Whiskey Soda Lounge
3226 SE Division St
Portland, OR 97202
(503) 232-1387
As I was taking a massive shit today and leafing through Gourmet, I noticed Otto’s Sausage Kitchen in the Woodstock neighborhood of SE Portland received a most kind shout out in June’s issue.
Chewing Otto’s wienies is half the fun. The smoked link is firmly packed, with a muscular mouthfeel as different from an ordinary hot dog as mortadella is from bologna. The chicken sausage is even more dense, a juicy tube steak radiant with basil and garlic.
Author’s Jane and Michael Stern also had kind things to say about the beverage setup.
And the choice of beers is awesome. There are five on tap at $3.50 a pint—Pilsner Urquell is always available, as is Otto’s IPA, made by local microbrewery Raccoon Lodge—and, in the refrigerator cases, some 160 different brand fround around the world.
Otto’s Sausage Kitchen
4138 SE Woodstock Blvd
Portland, OR 97202
(503) 771-6714
Pentagon Confirms It Sought To Build A ‘Gay Bomb’.
A Berkeley watchdog organization that tracks military spending said it uncovered a strange U.S. military proposal to create a hormone bomb that could purportedly turn enemy soldiers into homosexuals and make them more interested in sex than fighting.
Pentagon officials on Friday confirmed to CBS 5 that military leaders had considered, and then subsquently rejected, building the so-called “Gay Bomb.”
Our taxes are paying these people’s salaries?
Senate ice cream wish upsets Italy. (CNN)
A group of Italian senators want ice cream in their cafeteria to “improve the quality of life” in the Senate, astonishing observers as Italy’s political class faces a growing backlash over its handsome pay and perks.
In a letter to the Senate building’s administrators, Italian senators Rocco Buttiglione and Albertina Soliani said serving “gelato” could be considered serving the needs of people’s daily life.
“The cafeteria is not supplied with ice cream,” said the letter, published by Italian newspapers on Friday. “We think it would be useful if it were and we are certain that it can be interpreted as the desire of many.”
The letter comes amid a public crisis of confidence in Italy’s political establishment, with opinion polls showing a general lack of faith in elected officials while a new book that portrays it as a bloated, overpaid apparatus has quickly become a bestseller.
Sparkrobot sent me this, taken at Caveman Kitchens.
Stoking the flames of future Girls Gone Wild-fires…Dutch students brew up powdered alcohol hit. (The Register)
Dutch students have developed what might be the ultimate Reg hack survival aid – a powdered alcohol beverage going out at €1-€1.50 for a 20-gram packet, Reuters reports.
Just add water to Booz2Go and you get a “bubbly, lime-colored and flavored drink with just three percent alcohol content”, ideal for those journalistic Bravo Two Zero situations where you find yourself pinned down by a corporate PowerPoint presentation with nothing more than a plastic cup and a water cooler between you and a sobriety-heightened two-hour torture session.
…
Van Elderen and four classmates at Helicon Vocational Institute brewed up Booz2Go as part of a final year project. Fellow student Martyn van Nierop showed his WKD side by announcing one major attraction of the concoction for the yoof demographic: “Because the alcohol is not in liquid form, we can sell it to people below 16.”
Gotta love the Dutch.
Court Rebuffs F.C.C. on Fines for Indecency. (NY Times)
If President Bush and Vice President Cheney can blurt out vulgar language, then the government cannot punish broadcast television stations for broadcasting the same words in similarly fleeting contexts.
That, in essence, was the decision on Monday, when a federal appeals panel struck down the government policy that allows stations and networks to be fined if they broadcast shows containing obscene language.
…
Adopting an argument made by lawyers for NBC, the judges then cited examples in which Mr. Bush and Mr. Cheney had used the same language that would be penalized under the policy. Mr. Bush was caught on videotape last July using a common vulgarity that the commission finds objectionable in a conversation with Prime Minister Tony Blair of Britain. Three years ago, Mr. Cheney was widely reported to have muttered an angry obscene version of “get lost” to Senator Patrick Leahy on the floor of the United States Senate.
“We find that the F.C.C.’s new policy regarding ‘fleeting expletives’ fails to provide a reasoned analysis justifying its departure from the agency’s established practice,” said the panel.
If You Knew Sushi. (Vanity Fair)
In search of the ultimate sushi experience, the author plunges into the frenzy of the world’s biggest seafood market—Tokyo’s Tsukiji, where a bluefin tuna can fetch more than $170,000 at auction—and discovers the artistry between ocean and plate, as well as some fishy surprises.
Creed’s blog, set up by Ryan with a fake address (but thankfully mirrored by NBC), is the gift that keeps on giving.
Creed has many food related items on his blog. Most, if not all, are strokes of pure genius. To wit:
Where’s Thousand Island? I’ve got some vacation time saved up and it sounds like a delicious place to visit.
Root beer floats. It does. I’ve tested it.
There’s a fat man that sits by me. He has some sort of jar of multi-colored power beans. I need those beans, man.
…
I’m thinking about buying a horse. Great for transportation and once you’re done with it, you’ve got about seven days worth of meals.
The worst part about Raisin Bran is the bran. Hands down.
Sometimes when I’m sick, or feeling blue, I drink vinegar. I like all kinds: balsamic, vodka, orange juice, leaves.
Off the Broiler visits Momofuku Ssäm Bar and indulges in the Bo Ssäm food “orgy”.
When I’m finally brought to justice for my various transgressions and crimes against humanity, this is my last supper before lockdown.
Forget worries about $4 gas … now it’s $4 milk. (MSNBC)
Hutjens and others said higher gasoline prices have increased the costs of moving milk from farm to market, and corn — the primary feed for dairy cattle — is being gobbled up by producers of the fuel-additive ethanol. The USDA projects that 3.2 billion bushels of this year’s corn crop will be used to make ethanol, a 52 percent increase over 2006.
Ethanol has increased the average American’s grocery bill $47 since July, and Iowa State University study concluded.
“There is no free lunch,” Hutjens said. “That corn then has to come away from that dedicated resource.”
Chris Galen, a spokesman for the National Milk Producers Federation, pointed to another factor: Global demand for milk, he said, has grown in the past few years, primarily in the new Asian economic powers.
“China of course is a big story,” he said. “They’re consuming more (milk protein); they’re using more dairy ingredients in animal feed.”
In years past, that demand might have been met by Australia and New Zealand, he said. But drought in Australia and the limits of New Zealand’s dairy industry have pushed China and its neighbors to buy American.
Hutjens said the biggest dairy price spikes are likely to come later this summer in the areas farthest from the Midwest corn and grain fields that feed most of the country’s dairy cattle.
America’s blind addiction to driving and systematic malfeasance at every level (local, state, and federal) has delivered us to this fate. There exists no solution that is palatable enough for the entitled masses to accept.
U.S. government fights to keep meatpackers from testing all slaughtered cattle for mad cow. (IHT)
The Bush administration said Tuesday it will fight to keep meatpackers from testing all their animals for mad cow disease.
The Agriculture Department tests fewer than 1 percent of slaughtered cows for the disease, which can be fatal to humans who eat tainted beef. A beef producer in the western state of Kansas, Creekstone Farms Premium Beef, wants to test all of its cows.
Larger meat companies feared that move because, if Creekstone should test its meat and advertised it as safe, they might have to perform the expensive tests on their larger herds as well.
The Agriculture Department regulates the test and argued that widespread testing could lead to a false positive that would harm the meat industry.
Last thoughts on a dead pig. (Ed’s Diner)
Driving from the slaughterhouse in Kapowsin to Cheryl Ouellette’s farm in Summit one morning this month, it barely registered: dinner – 90 pounds of whole pig, freshly killed and USDA approved — was riding in the jump seat behind me.
On the way to the slaughterhouse two hours earlier, the pig, then 160 pounds and breathing, rode in a wooden crate in the back of Ouellette’s red Dodge pick-up truck. Now, with hair, blood and entrails removed, the pig, now pork, was wrapped in plastic and stuffed in a cardboard box about the size of a bag of golf clubs.
This symbolic act of protest is what my friend Sparkrobot compared to this:
Artist eats Corgi to protest British royals’ fox hunt; Yoko Ono also tastes it. (MSNBC)
A British artist has eaten chunks of a Corgi dog, the breed favored by Queen Elizabeth II, live on radio to protest against the royal family’s treatment of animals.
Mark McGowan, 37, said he ate “about three bites” of the dog meat, cooked with apples, onions and seasoning, to highlight what he called Prince Philip’s mistreatment of a fox during a hunt by the Queen’s husband in January.
“It was pretty disgusting,” McGowan said of the meal, which he ate while appearing on a London radio station on Tuesday. Yoko Ono, another guest on the show, also tried the meat.
First she breaks up the Beatles, now she breaks up the Corgis.
“I’ve never tasted anything like it — it was grey and had a very funny smell. It was horrible,” McGowan told Reuters.
And the dog didn’t taste all that good either. Ba-dump-ching!
Thank you. I’ll be here all week. Be sure to tip your waitress.
Dick Cheney sees your doublespeak, and raises you one jaw-droppingly mendacious lie.
KING: When do we leave?…You expect it in your administration?
D. CHENEY: I do.
KING: To be removed. It’s not going to be — it’s not going to be a 10-year event?
D. CHENEY: No. I think we may well have some kind of presence there over a period of time. But I think the level of activity that we see today, from a military standpoint, I think will clearly decline. I think they’re in the last throes, if you will, of the insurgency.
Booming town short on booze (Yahoo! News)
Welcome to St. George, Utah. A lot like Kabul, except with nicer views and more climbing walls.
There’s a supply problem facing those who imbibe in this city of 126,000, where spectacular red rock scenery, sunny weather and affordable proximity to Las Vegas have contributed to a record population boom. St. George has a single state-run liquor outlet — on the city’s west side — and its inventory is often depleted.
In Utah, liquor, wine and beer with an alcohol content over 3.2 percent by weight can only be purchased in state liquor stores. State law sets the number of liquor stores based on state, not local, populations. The law says the number of liquor stores can’t exceed one per 48,000 people in the state.
…
There’s also another, sneakier option. Some residents drive a half hour south on Interstate 15 to Lee’s Discount Liquors in Mesquite, Nev. Bringing alcohol into Utah from the state is against the law, punishable by six months in jail, a $1,000 fine and booze confiscation.
Demand and Costs Rise for Best Cuts. (NY Times)
Beef, it’s what’s for dinner…if you are DINK (Dual Income No Kids).
Over the past two months or so the cost of producing beef and the demand for it have risen so much that prices are soaring and the supply of top quality beef has dropped. Customers at steakhouses and markets will see the effects in coming weeks if they haven’t already.
“Beef is going through the roof,” said Richard Romanoff, the president of Nebraskaland, a wholesaler in the Hunts Point Market in the Bronx. “And there’s not enough prime and top choice to satisfy the demand.”
Externalities are having a uncompromising effect:
Many of the factors pushing up prices are also affecting quality.
The demand for ethanol and a harsh winter have caused the price of corn to rise about 60 percent over the past few months. Farmers are planting more corn now, but Mr. Leibtag would not predict a price drop soon.
The price of feed and the higher cost of fuel for transport have led producers to bring their cattle to slaughter when they are younger and lighter so they can save money and get a faster return on their investment. “The cattle should be on feed 120 to 140 days, but the cattlemen have been cutting it to 60 to 90 days,” said Kevin Brown, the head buyer for Buckhead Beef Northeast. “The meat does not have the same chance to become as marbled because the animals are smaller, so the quality is down.”
The quality of beef has also been hurt by the stress of a hard winter.
Fucking ethanol. Again. Stupid Americans and their white whale — the dream to drive endlessly. You’re messing with the ability for me to get my meat on.
Acoustic Stove Could Aid Third World. (Discovery News)
An appliance being designed for developing communities in Africa and Asia not only generates electricity, but also cooks and cools using acoustic technology.
…
The efficiency comes from a technology known as thermoacoustics, which produces sound waves from heated gas and then converts them to electricity.
Here’s how it works: wood is placed inside the stove and burned. The fire heats compressed air that has been pumped into specially shaped pipes located inside the stove’s chimney and behind the stove.
The heated air begins to vibrate and produce sound waves. Inside the pipes, the noise is 100 times louder than a jet taking off. But because the pipes are stiff and do no vibrate, the sound waves have nowhere to go. So outside the pipe, people hear only a faint hum.
This is a criminally simple soup, yet it’s very satisfying. Growing up, we referred to this as “canh” (literally, “soup”), and a fresh pot often sat on the back of the stove, recently simmered, waiting to be ladled on top of hot rice from the steamer.
This soup features a opo squash (“bau”), a large, long gourd with a pale green flesh. It is sold at all Vietnamese markets, and I’ve seen it at Fubonn and Uwajimaya. Some will describe the flavor as similar to zucchini. I suppose this is somewhat true. But I wouldn’t substitute zucchini in this soup anymore than I would substitue lime zest for lemongrass, or listen to Black Rebel Motorcycle Club instead of Jesus and Mary Chain, or masturbate to the mental image of Kirsten Dunst rather than Jessica Alba. OK, that’s a bit extreme. I actually listened to B.R.M.C. a lot, and Howl was a suprising changeup. And lime zest can add a nice flavor profile.
Squash and Shrimp Soup
- 1 large opo squash, or 2 smaller
- 6 cups water
- 1/2 pound shelled and deveined shrimp
- 6 green onions, chopped
- 1/2 bunch cilantro, leaves separated (discard stems), and coarsly chopped
- Coarse cracked pepper (I like a lot — probably too much — but that’s me)
- Salt
- Fish sauce
- 1 teaspoon sugar
- 1 teaspoon sesame oil
- 1 sliced yellow onion
Using a small food processor, pulse the shrimp, half the green onions, and half the cilantro.
You could also do this on a wide cutting board. Lay the shrimp out, layer on the onions and cilantro, and go to town. I don’t like to go too minced out, though, preferring bits and pieces of shrimp to come through. Though shrimp meatballs could work just fine.
Transfer the meat to a bowl, and season with sugar, fish sauce (tablespoon or so), sesame oil, and pepper. Mix thoroughly and set aside.
Heat water in a large dutch oven. Peel squash, trim off ends, and cut into 1/2 inch discs, and then 1/2 juliennes. You can go real skinny, too — this was how my mom commonly sliced her squash.
Drop into pot and bring to a boil.
Once you have a nice boil, add sliced onion and use a spoon to drop small “dumplings” of the shrimp into the boiling soup.
Lower heat to a simmer, and salt (augmenting with a few squirts of fish sauce) to season to your taste. Once there, remove from heat, and throw in the onions and cilantro (but don’t stir). Cover partially and let sit for half hour or more.
I almost always serve this soup on top of a couple spoonfuls of steamed jasmine rice, and give it a couple squirts of Maggi to round out the flavor.
Firing up the grill? Make it a ‘rare’ occasion. (LA Times)
Nothing that good can be good for us, of course. And yes, the natural chemicals that give barbecued foods their trademark crusty-brown smokiness are toxic and carcinogenic. Researchers have linked consumption of flame-grilled meat to all sorts of ailments: breast, prostate and colon cancer; diabetes; glaucoma; heart disease; and Alzheimer’s disease.
…
But you don’t have to convert to a raw food diet yet. Barbecue chemicals may be potent toxins in petri dishes and mice, but the evidence that they do the same in humans, at the doses we’re exposed to, is weaker.
Most studies find a significant increase in cancer risk only for people who eat several portions of well- or very well-done meat a week. And even then, the risk is often small. For example, a 2005 study in Cancer Research found a 21% increase in the risk of developing colon cancer precursors for people eating as much as 18 ounces of well-done red meat per day. The bottom line: A twice-weekly date with a medium-rare steak is unlikely to give you cancer any time soon.
Bottom line, stay away from well-done meat. Not only does it ruin the cut, IT WILL FUCKING KILL YOU. It should be reserved for those with suicidal tendencies and corrupt congressmen with homo-erotically polluted jacuzzi fetishes. My main man Jeffrey Steingarten speaks truth to power:
Jeffrey Steingarten, food writer for Vogue magazine, thinks very critically about what he puts in his mouth and has yet to find sufficient evidence to steer clear of a perfectly done steak — which, in his estimation, is somewhere between rare and medium rare.
For those who choose to grill their steaks to the blackened point of well-done shoe leather, his tongue-in-cheek opinion is simple: “If you eat a steak like that, you don’t deserve to live.”
@Uwajimaya today, while I was slurping down cold noodles tossed in miso dressing and hot mustard ($5.25, with slivers of char sui and tamago). The shirt read:
“MEAT IS MURDER”
I thought he was just a Smiths fan, but below that…
“Tasty, tasty murder”
As it were, I was in the mood for a hunk of tasty murdered meat, so I picked up a small block of tuna.
Uwajimaya has sashimi grade maguro @$18.99/lb. When I got home, I sliced, plated, topped with minced green onion, and squeezed a few darts of sesame oil on that sweet flesh.
To finish, I sprinkled it with Japanese red pepper powder, Alaea Volcanic sea salt from The Meadow, and a few black sesame seeds.
Joe Lieberman, Democratic primary debate with Ned Lamont, July 7, 2006:
The situation in Iraq is a lot better, different than it was a year ago. . . .So I am confident that the situation is improving enough on the ground that by the end of this year, we will begin to draw down significant numbers of American troops, and by the end of the next year more than half of the troops who are there now will be home.
asshat (ās-hāt)
n. pl. asshats (ās-hāts)
1. A sniveling, mendacious fuck who is primarily infatuated with the sound and smell of his own flatulence.
2. Joe Lieberman.
tr.v. ass-hat·ted, ass-hat·ting
To act in way that proves oneself to be an asshat; “The primary activity on MySpace can best be described as asshatting.”
In the Rose Garden, It Was All Al-Qaeda. (Dana Milbank, Washington Post)
“They are a threat to your children, David,” he advised NBC’s David Gregory.
“It’s a danger to your children, Jim,” Bush informed the New York Times’ Jim Rutenberg.
This last warning was perplexing, because Rutenberg has no children, only a brown chow chow named Little Bear. It was unclear whether Bush was referring to a specific and credible threat to Little Bear or merely indicating there was increased “chatter in the system” about chow chows in general.
Rutenberg, informed of the pet threat, asked Bush a follow-up question about bin Laden. “Mr. President, why is he still at large?”
“Why is he at large?” Bush shot back. “Because we haven’t got him yet, Jim.”
For the Love of a Good Burger. (NYTimes).
Mark Bittman throws down the burger-fu.
The grilling is the easy part. The more important steps are shopping and grinding. The difference they make, you will find, is astonishing, and will change your burger-cooking forever.
Did you hear about the big news yesterday? Fundamentalist terrorists had planned to use improvised explosive devices against Americans on their own soil! What? You didn’t? Even just a few weeks after the Virginia Tech massacres?
The man who made Gordon Ramsay cry. (Salon)
Marco Pierre White, the original bad-boy chef, talks about taking over “Hell’s Kitchen” from his rival, his scorn for molecular gastronomy and kitchen rage.
Some choice bits…
[…on Alinea]
I went to Chicago, and I went to Alinea. The boy there [chef Grant Achatz] has got extraordinary technical ability. This boy, I believe, can win three stars in the Michelin guide. But do I want to sit in that environment, where I’m dictated to? No. I’m told these are my two choices, 12 courses or 24 courses. It’s not my thing. It’s just too much; I get bored by it. You just lose your place. It’s like having six bottles of Cheval Blanc. In the end, you forget, and think, “What have I drank?’ It’s a bit too much of an indulgence.
I’m very happy with two great courses, with my freebies and my little amuse gueule, the little things like that. It’s enough for me. And then give me a pudding, and then I can go home.
[…on MG]
Molecular gastronomy, I don’t see the point of it. It’s a stamp, it’s a label — let’s get a few column inches, let’s make it interesting. My wife’s mother, without a doubt, is one of the great chefs. When I eat her food, it’s the most delicious food. She has no training. She just had a childhood in ’30s Spain; she was brought up by the nuns. But when I sit and eat her food — delicious. Fabulously seasoned. Great textures. It’s peasant food. What I love is it gives me an insight into the world that she came from. She’s eating today still what she did as a little girl being brought up by the nuns. This molecular gastronomy, it’s soulless.
Duke Cunningham: Serial embezzler, unctuous slimeball, and dry aged meat abuser.
One of these parties started at the Capital Grille with Cunningham ordering his usual filet mignon — very well done — with iceberg lettuce salad and White Oak. Wilkes used the dinner to update Cunningham on the appropriations he wanted. Cunningham then took the whole group back to the boat where they drank more wine, sitting on white leather sofas while Cunningham told more war stories. Cunningham then took his clothes off and invited all to join him in the polluted hot tub that was hidden from the neighbors by a white tarp. There were no takers.
Ah, bullshit. You know the cheesy funk music started playing, terry cloth robes were discarded, and thickly forested, seventies-style pubic nether regions were put on full display.
This is a good recipe for any whole fish, but these small little pomfrets are well-suited to soak up all the flavors.
Marinade/Crust
- 2 stalks lemongrass
- 3 cloves minced garlic
- 3 thai bird chilies
- 2 tablespoons fish sauce
- 1 teaspoon sugar
- Black pepper
Cut off the green fibrous ends of the lemongrass, and slice thin then mince as fine as possible. Combine with garlic, chilies, fish sauce, sugar, and pepper.
Score the pomfrets on a bias (this helps the flavor to seep into the flesh). Coat with marinade, and allow to sit for half hour or more.
Heat neutral vegetable (i.e. peanut) oil in pan, and fry the pomfrets on each side, 3-4 minutes per side.
The skin become crisp and really holds a lot of flavor. This is great with plain, steamed jasmine rice. I’ll even scrape the pan of the leftover, browned bits of the crust (and oil) and eat that alongside the fish and rice.
This can also be adapted for a skinless filet (like halibut, above), but really works well with a whole fish.
FDA Says Quarantined Hogs Are Safe to Eat. (Washington Post)
Fine, you eat them, then. Serve melamine ribs at the FDA Memorial Day BBQ as a show of strength.
The FDA has become a joke. See, government regulation doesn’t work? Right?
By the same logic — just to prove that marriage is a failed institution — I married my wife only to cheat on her with a rented stud whose number I got from the back pages of Well Hung Weekly.
Lord of the Lies. Reason #6843 why the terrorists hate us. (For those keeping score at home, #6842 is the continuing existence of MySpace).
“For those of you who accuse CBS of being too conservative, you will feel differently when you see the shows we have lined up,” said Leslie Moonves, chairman of CBS Corp.
A new reality show, “Kid Nation,” will take 40 children and set them up in an abandoned New Mexico town. Cameras will follow them as they try to set up their own society without adult supervision.
As I was making kimchi, it occurred to me that the daikon and carrots I was prepping at the time could also do double duty as the garnish for some bánh mì down the road. As I considered setting aside some vegetables for some mandolin action, an idea was born…the kimchi bánh mì, using kimchi’d (that’s a transitive verb) daikon and carrots.
First of all, the lemongrass pork that serves as the protein for this particular sandwich.
Grilled Lemongrass Pork
- 1 pound boneless country-style pork ribs
- 3 stalks of lemon grass, ends trimmed, and minced like a motherfuck
- Few cloves garlic
- 3 bird chilis
- 1 inch knob of ginger
- Fish sauce
- Tablespoon sugar
Smash the ginger, garlic and chilis in a mortar to form a paste. Put in a bowl and combine with lemongrass and sugar. Add fish sauce and mix lightly until a thick sludge develops. Slather this all over the pork and allow to marinade for a few hours.
Get some hot coals going on one side of a grill, and grill the pork. If you’re using the ribs, you’ll want to alternate between the hot/cool side of grills, and give them some time…I dunno, 40 minutes? Just whatever feels right, I’m not going to nanny you. If you’re using a leaner cut like a tenderloin or even shoulder steaks, you’ll want to reduce the time of course.
While the pork cools a bit, get your sandwich house in order.
The bread. These are from a local Vietnamese bakery (behind the Pho Oregon on East 82nd). You can pick these up at Vietnamese stores around town (5 for about $1.50).
The garnish. I like cucumber on my bánh mì, and lots of cilantro. In this case I had some Thai basil, so I figured what the hell. And don’t forget the Maggi.
So here’s how it went down. I sliced up that pork, stuffed everything into a toasted roll, and topped with slivers of daikon and carrots I carefully extracted from my kimchi.
I think I ate three of them that day.
Tennessee teachers stage fake gunman attack. “Staged assault on 6th-graders unfolds on school trip; parents not amused” (MSNBC)
During the last night of the trip, staff members convinced the 69 students that there was a gunman on the loose. They were told to lie on the floor or hide underneath tables and stay quiet. A teacher, disguised in a hooded sweat shirt, even pulled on a locked door.
After the lights went out, about 20 kids started to cry, 11-year-old Shay Naylor said.
“I was like, ‘Oh My God,’ ” she said. “At first I thought I was going to die. We flipped out.”
Principal Catherine Stephens declined to say whether the staff members involved would face disciplinary action, but said the situation “involved poor judgment.”
Poor judgement is choosing the roast chicken over the ribeye steak when you’re out with the folks and they’re paying. Poor judgement is eating that second bear claw. Poor judgement is wearing a paisley shirt. Etc and so on.
David Chang’s recipe for sustaining food/business mojo. (Signal vs. Noise)
The driving force behind NYC’s Momofuku on being down-to-earth and not getting caught up in the bullshit continuum.
Farmed fish given meal tainted with melamine. (MSNBC)
WASHINGTON – Farmed fish have been fed meal spiked with the same chemical that has been linked to the pet food recall, but the contamination was probably too low to harm anyone who ate the fish, federal officials said Tuesday.
The Canadian-made meal included what was purported to be wheat gluten, a protein source, imported from China. The material was actually wheat flour spiked by the chemical melamine and related, nitrogen-rich compounds to make it appear more protein rich than it was, officials said.
There’s no strength left for pithy remarks. What with Paris Hilton and all.
Bill O’Reilly lifts boycott of France.
In March 2003, Bill O’Reilly called on all Americans to boycott the use of French Products because of France’s disagreement with the United States decision to invade Iraq (those French really blew THAT one).
Through the years O’Reilly has claimed his boycott of France has cost the country “billions of dollars” (O’Reilly himself quoted that figure in the non-existent “Paris Business Review”).
Now, because the country recently elected a pro-American government, O’Reilly has decided France has suffered enough and has magnamimously lifted his boycott.
In my own act of magnamimous reciprocation, I too will lift my ban on falafel that has been inserted into a vagina.
‘Top Chef’ Dreams Crushed by Student Loan Debt. (NY Times)
Mr. Park said that when he and his mother met with a financial-aid counselor at the school, they were told that his payments on his private loan, from Sallie Mae, would be about $250 a month. But his first bill after graduation was for more than twice that, said his mother, Elise McClain, an English professor in Florida. They twice requested payment deferments while he looked for a job but when they began repaying the loan, both his principal and his monthly payment had risen again. The balance is now $46,198.88 at just over 16 percent interest.
“They had us sign a pack of papers,” Ms. McClain said. “Of course, it was as big as a phone book and maybe I should have paid more attention. I just feel so stupid.”
Advocates trying to change the student loan system say culinary students have a particularly difficult time with student loans.
“Truly the worst horror stories are from private culinary schools,” said Alan Collinge, who founded the grass-roots lobbying group Student Loan Justice and collects information from people with student loan problems. “The story is always the same. The school convinces the student they are going to be the next Julia Child or Wolfgang Puck, and the student will sign anything.”
I blame the potent, hybrid gateway drug that is the Food Network cross-pollinated with marijuana.
James Dyson on living a life of failure. The brilliantly obsessed mind behind the inventor of the world’s best vacuum.
He should train his sights next on perfecting the microwaveable pizza.
Tainted feed little risk to humans, scientists say.
Consumers face little risk from eating pork, chicken and eggs from farm animals that ate feed mixed with pet food scraps contaminated by an industrial chemical, government scientists said Monday.
Mixing in material contaminated at low levels diluted it such that humans who eat the animals won’t be harmed, the scientists said.
“We literally found that the dilution is so minute, in fact in some cases you can’t even test and find melamine any more in that product,” Agriculture Secretary Mike Johanns said in Chicago, speaking to the Organic Trade Association.
Makes you feel all warm and tingly inside. Heckuva job, Johannsie.
La Tienda Santa Cruz is in downtown St. Johns, adjacent to a Burgerville and Hippie McVegan’s Organic House of Tempeh and Roughage (nee Proper Eats, which is a cool place actually).
Window shopping of the best sort.
It’s a proper Mexican market with a nice assortment of groceries, including a wide assortments of sauces, herbs, canned goods, dried chilis, masa, etc. The market also sells a variety of baked goods, including bolillos and pan dulce.
But venture towards the back of the store, and you’ll find a taqueria! There’s a cheap, brightly lit cafeteria feel to the place. The bathrooms there in the back have been recently remodeled — split into separate men’s and women’s wash closets. They are clean and new, though the day I went some dickhead left a sasquatch-sized dump in the men’s toilet. Is it too much to ask to flush?
The menu board. There’s a consomme de barbacoa and five taco special for $9.50. One day I will summon enough inner strength to order and eat this entire meal. On that day I will have considered my journey to manhood complete.
The tacos here are on the smaller side, are $1 apiece, and come doubled up in warm tortillas (of a commercial variety). They are adorned with chopped onions and cilantro, though at times (usually on the weekends), the guy delivering your tacos might bring you a nice small bowl of guacamole.
Carne asada. Little crisp nuggets of carnegoodness.
Pastor. This is not spit-roasted pastor in the traditional sense, but tasty nonetheless.
Santa Cruz does not have carnitas, the third musketeer of my usual taco litmus test, so I subbed pollo. This was my least favorite – not bad by any means, just a bit plain.
La Tienda/Taqueria Santa Cruz gets bonus points for some seriously tasty tacos that run only a buck apiece. Five bucks serves you well here. Demerits are issued for commercial tortillas, which I believe are from Tortilleria 4 Hermanas in Hillsboro (they sell these in the store), but that’s not much of a knock because the expertly seasoned meats and incredibly delicous red and green table sauces more than compensate.
VJ @ AltPortland and Juanito @ Taquerias Portlandesas have both covered this ground before as well.
That is the mostest awesomest thing I have ever seen and I must have one.
We should eat horse meat, says TV chef Ramsay.
Gordon Ramsay is to shatter the last taboo of English cuisine by urging the public to eat horse meat.
The controversial chef claims horse meat is tasty and nutritious and should be part of the British diet.
But his call for horses, long revered as farm and racing animals, to be turned into dinner has sparked revulsion among horse lovers, animal welfare campaigners and vegetarians.
Added Gore, “And what’s the big deal with the cheesesteak sandwiches? They taste like shit. I wouldn’t feed them to the dogs they’re probably made out of.”
This chicken curry is in my Vietnamese mom’s style, which is different from, say, quick cooking Thai versions, in that it’s a stew that simmers for a while.
I eat it primarily with crusty french bread to sop up the juices, and jasmine rice when the bread runs out.
- 1 entire chicken, cut up into pieces. Chop up each thigh and breast half into at least 2 pieces, bone intact. The bones make the gravy
- 2 or 3 russet potatoes, chopped into 2 x 2 inch chunks
- One yellow onion, chopped
- 4 cloves of garlic, minced
- Small knob of ginger, minced
- 6 or 7 kaffir lime leaves
- 1 stalk of lemon grass, chopped into thirds
- 2 tablespoons turmeric
- 2 tablespoons prepared red curry paste (I use Mae Ploy brand)
- 1/2 teaspoon each ground cumin, coriander, and galanga powder
- One can coconut milk
- One container low-sodium chicken broth (i.e. Pacific brand – the larger)
- One tablespoon fish sauce
- Salt to taste
Dust the chicken with turmeric, cumin, coriander, galanga powder, salt. Swirl hot vegetable oil in a dutch oven, brown the chicken parts for a few minutes. Remove.
Add onion and ginger, sautee for a few minutes. Add garlic, lemongrass, lime leaves, and red curry paste, and sautee for a few minutes more. Pour in coconut milk, add fish sauce, bring to a simmer, return chicken to the pot and add pototoes. Pour in chicken broth, and add additional water (if needed) to fully cover.
Bring to boil, reduce heat to lowest setting, and simmer for more than an hour or so. Salt to taste.
Holy shit, George Tenet is pissed.
Oh yeah, fuck you Dick Cheney, and Rush Limbaugh is still a fat drug addict with erectile dysfunction.
In-N-Out’s Tucson debut worth the wait, burger fans say. This makes an upcoming summer trip, which will undoubtedly include 100 degree heat, actually tolerable.
With the return of warm weather, it’s quickly becoming salad season. This is a crunchy, tangy, and healthy salad. Salad.
Vietnamese Chicken Slaw
This will serve probably 3-4 people as a main dish, and more if serving as an appetizer or if those people are diminutive, children, or drug-addicted models.
Salad Components
- 1/2 a cooked chicken, shredded (I like to use more of the white meat)
- 1 head green cabbage
- 2 carrots, shredded
- 1/2 red onion, thinly sliced
- 1/2 bunch of cilantro, chopped coarsely
- dozen or so leaves spearmint
- 6 or so purple perilla leaves
- 6 or so thai basil leaves
Dressing
- 1 clove of garlic, forced through a garlic press
- 2 tablespoons rice vinegar
- Juice of one nice, large juicy lime (or two smaller limes)
- 3 tablespoons sugar
- 1 and 1/2 tablespoons fish sauce
- 3 thai bird chilies, minced
- 1 and 1/2 tablespoons sesame oil
- 1 teaspoon garlic chili sauce or siracha
Garnish
- Handful of roasted peanuts (no skins)
Dressing: whisk together all ingredients, and set aside to “steep”.
Crush the peanuts in a mortar with a pestle.
Chiffonade the cabbage. You can skip this step by buying those pre-cut coleslaw packages in the E. coli aisle of the produce section of your local mega-mart. There’s often carrots in the mix, too, so that will save you the step of shredding the carrots.
Get your herbs in order. What is perilla? It’s essentially shiso — a broad leafed member of the mint family. The versions utilized in Vietnamese cooking have a purple face. Chiffonade the perilla and mint, and along with cilantro, combine with the cabbage, carrots, and chicken in a large mixing bowl. Whisk dressing and pour over salad, and toss.
Garnish with peanuts.
Dick Cheney will be visiting Provo this week and giving the commencement address at BYU.
A bunch of students have, in protest, organized an alternative graduation ceremony and have raised over $20k to fund it.
Nobody likes Dick Cheney. He’s a fucking prick.
You Are What You Grow. (NYTimes).
Michael Pollan on eating healthy in America.
As a rule, processed foods are more “energy dense” than fresh foods: they contain less water and fiber but more added fat and sugar, which makes them both less filling and more fattening. These particular calories also happen to be the least healthful ones in the marketplace, which is why we call the foods that contain them “junk.” Drewnowski concluded that the rules of the food game in America are organized in such a way that if you are eating on a budget, the most rational economic strategy is to eat badly — and get fat.
This perverse state of affairs is not, as you might think, the inevitable result of the free market. Compared with a bunch of carrots, a package of Twinkies, to take one iconic processed foodlike substance as an example, is a highly complicated, high-tech piece of manufacture, involving no fewer than 39 ingredients, many themselves elaborately manufactured, as well as the packaging and a hefty marketing budget. So how can the supermarket possibly sell a pair of these synthetic cream-filled pseudocakes for less than a bunch of roots?
FDA aware of dangers to food. (Washington Post via MSNBC)
The Food and Drug Administration has known for years about contamination problems at a Georgia peanut butter plant and on California spinach farms that led to disease outbreaks that killed three people, sickened hundreds, and forced one of the biggest product recalls in U.S. history, documents and interviews show.
Overwhelmed by huge growth in the number of food processors and imports, however, the agency took only limited steps to address the problems and relied on producers to police themselves, according to agency documents.
Smells like shit.
Kimchi is good. Although — like many things in the wide world of food that are good — it smells like shit.
When we lived overseas, for a while we had a Korean neighbor who taught my mom how to make kimchi (I was in the third grade). My mom at that point had made pickled vegetables (the most ubiquitous being pickled mustard greens), but these were mild concoctions. My mom I imagine was intoxicated by the heat and toxicity of our neighbors kimchi, which spent a few days taking a dirt nap, buried in her backyard.
My mom didn’t go that far, instead allowing a huge jar of kimchi to ferment on our kitchen counter. We lived at the time in a closed residential compound that had been designed by Dutch architects for (initially) expatriated Dutch workers and their families. As a result, our house was quite diminutive in an efficient, scaled down way — the Netherlands appearing to be a country that was built to 3/5th scale. It was quite possibly the smallest 5 bedroom house in the entire world – maybe 1000 square feet. Everything was scaled down to size — the bedrooms, bathroom, kitchen, utility room. One load in our washer and dryer meant probably two pairs of jeans and five shirts. The icebox could barely hold a chicken. Our Atari 2600 game room was so small a third Missile Command spectator had a hard time waiting his turn without discomforting the others.
As a result of living in such cramped quarters, my Mom’s huge jar of rotting crap smelled like fucking shit. Oh man, my dad would bellyache like a whiny ass titty baby. He had a hard time with fish sauce, but this kimchi was another smelly beast altogether. The fact that it sat out for days, stinking up the whole joint, imparted a more criminal ignominy. Like most solipsistic white honkies, he had an aversion to anything that smelled stronger than ketchup that wasn’t his own fart. I kid the white people. I love them — they are good at starting wars.
My kimchi technique is slightly modified from a more traditional approach (as described on Zenkimchi’s excellent post), though I do use this technique as a template.
As with most of my recipes, everything is approximate. In fact, I’m not going to give measurements for most of the ingredients here. Just figure it out yourself, you’re a big girl. Take some responsibility for your life for once.
Kimchi
Vegetable components
- Cabbage
- Daikon radish
- Carrots
- Sliced red onion
- Chopped green onion
- Garlic
- Italian parsley
- Ginger
In this case, I picked up a couple long napa cabbages from Uwajimaya (around 2 feet long, but much narrower than conventional napa). I sliced the daikon into coins, and the carrots into matchsticks, and brined all these for around 8 hours in cold, salty water (1 cup kosher salt for every quart water). I used around 25 minced garlic cloves — no kidding — and a nice, shredded knob of ginger. The parsley may sound like an odd addition, but I like the freshness it adds to the mix.
Seasoning components
- Fish sauce (I used Three Lions brand – my usual)
- Gochugaru
- Crushed red pepper
- Paprika
- 1 teaspoon fermented shrimp sauce (your call)
- 1 teaspoon or so of sugar
Start with a large mixing bowl, and add all the spices.
Gochugaru is Korean dried red pepper. It’s intensely red. Paprika, again, may seem odd , but I like the “red” it adds. Also, the crushed pepper could probably be omitted, but I like the additional flavor layer it adds. It is important to note the gochugaru is the primary pepper component and you are using a lot. How much? That’s your call, but you’re looking to create a consistent paste when you add the fish sauce (and the shrimp sauce, if you’re using it). It should be a nice sludge that should should be ample enough to coat all your vegetables. If you’re feeling timid, you can create the sludge separately and mix it in stages with the vegetables to obtain your optimum level of intensity.
Once everything is mixed to your liking, transfer to a large jar or container and commence with the rotting. You can leave it out at room temperature overnight or transfer immediately to your fridge – I usually let it sit out for around 12 hours and then refridgerate. The opening photo shows kimchi in its infancy. I will sample the kimchi at this point, as there’s joy to be obtained from a fresh, bright batch of kimchi.
But as you can see, once it mucks around in its own rotting filth for a while, that’s when something special starts to occur.
Veal to Love, Without the Guilt. (NYTimes)
When photographs of formula-fed veal calves tethered in crates where they could not turn around appeared across the country, sales of veal plummeted. They have never recovered. In the 1950s and 1960s Americans ate four pounds of veal a year on average. Today per capital consumption is around half a pound a year.
It wasn’t until a few years ago that some farmers finally got the message and changed the way their calves were raised.
…
People like Elaine Burden of Middleburg, Va., who stopped eating veal about 10 years ago, have come back. Ayrshire Farm, an 800-acre organic farm in nearby Upperville, is selling certified-humane veal at its Home Farm Store in Middleburg, and she is buying it. “I’m delighted we can have it again,” she said. “Psychologically you feel better because it can graze on the fresh field of grass. It’s a more natural and wholesome way to eat. But in fact, the taste is better.”
You remain karmically pure because the baby cow is allowed to get its grass on before you slit its throat. And if that ups the deliciousness factor, then long live humanity. Win win.
Imported food rarely inspected. (AP via Yahoo! News)
Just 1.3 percent of imported fish, vegetables, fruit and other foods are inspected — yet those government inspections regularly reveal food unfit for human consumption.
Frozen catfish from China, beans from Belgium, jalapenos from Peru, blackberries from Guatemala, baked goods from Canada, India and the Philippines — the list of tainted food detained at the border by the Food and Drug Administration stretches on.
Add to that the contaminated Chinese wheat gluten that poisoned cats and dogs nationwide and led to a massive pet food recall, and you’ve got a real international pickle. Does the United States have the wherewithal to ensure the food it imports is safe?
Food safety experts say no.
Are mobile phones wiping out our bees? (The Independent).
It seems like the plot of a particularly far-fetched horror film. But some scientists suggest that our love of the mobile phone could cause massive food shortages, as the world’s harvests fail.
They are putting forward the theory that radiation given off by mobile phones and other hi-tech gadgets is a possible answer to one of the more bizarre mysteries ever to happen in the natural world – the abrupt disappearance of the bees that pollinate crops.
This really is quite frightening. The kind of thing that — during days in which my faith in fortuitousness feels increasingly tenuous — makes me want to curl up underneath my bed in a fetal position. Or dig out a plot in rural Alberta, stock up on canned goods and freeze dried sundries, and arm myself to the teeth.
* These words were once coined (as lyrics in a song) by an acquaintance of mine vis-à-vis that age-old chaos theory axiom
Vonnegut, writer, dies at 84. One of the great minds of human civilization.
I will forever be touched by The Sirens of Titans. Thank you, Mr. Vonnegut. You will be missed.
Oregon governor Ted Kulongoski to eat on $3 day.
The suprising detail is that he’s doing it just to say “Fuck you, Rachel Ray”. Seems kinda petty, but who am I to question the political process.
The Red-Meat Miracle, and Other Tales From the Butcher Case. (NYTimes)
Then there’s the ongoing saga of nitrite and nitrate, which give hams, bacon, hot dogs, bologna and other salt-cured meats their special color and tang. Nitrite reacts in the meat tissue to form nitric oxide, which binds tightly to the iron in myoglobin and turns it a stable red. Nitrite is also toxic to many microbes, including the bacteria that cause botulism, so it’s a critical preservative in cured sausages. For centuries meats were treated with a liberal mixture of salt and saltpeter, or sodium nitrate, which bacteria on the meat converted into nitrite. Nowadays manufacturers generally use very small quantities of pure nitrite, or a mixture of nitrite and nitrate.
In the 1970s, the nitrite and nitrate in cured meats fell under the suspicion that they might cause cancer. Later research showed that we get far more of these chemicals from vegetables like celery, spinach and lettuce. Their abundant nitrate comes from the soil and is turned into nitrite by bacteria living in our mouths.
EatDrink&BeMerry has tagged me in the Five Things About Me meme that has been going around the Interwebs. So here’s my barf.
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1. The very first live rock concert I went to was Ratt, in 1985, who were touring in support of their “Invasion of Your Privacy” release. Opening was a heretofore unknown band by the name of Bon Jovi. It was after witnessing this horror that I began an exodus from my newly-pubic, testosterone-stunted heavy metal fascination. Next stop: Thompson Twins.
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2. I spent many of my formidable, younger years overseas, including 7 years in Northwestern Saudi Arabia on the Persian/Arabian Gulf. Suffice to say, these were (sadly) mostly pork-free years. We watched highly censored, non sequiturs disguised as television programs that would segue from Alex P. Keaton’s imminent kiss to denouement all in the matter of 5 seconds, thus leaving 12 minutes of air time which was often filled with some bearded guy on a rug chanting “Allahu Akbar” in rapturous song. We played a lot of kickball.
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3. I am a lover of instant ramen. Not Americanized crap like Maruchan or Top Ramen — these brands are a scourge and blight upon humanity. But, rather, imported brands from all the countries than comprise the Asian continent. I have particular respect for the Koreans, who IMHO are the current world instant ramen kings, having wrested the mantle from the Japanese. This occurred some time in the early-to-mid nineties. Whereas most food dilettantes use their discernible faculties of taste detection to refine an appreciation of fine wine varietal and vintages, or train a palette to distinguish between olive oil appellations or artisanal cheeses, I have honed my tongue to recognize the noodle styles and MSG-laden broth characteristics of various instant ramen brands and their regions. Without seeing the package, I can correctly identify the distinct Korean brands (in their prepared states) of Jin Ramen, Nong Shim Shin Ramyun, and Samyang Ramen. Among the Nong Shim varietals, it is very likely I would be able to tell you which was Shin Ramyun, which was Kimchi flavor, and which was Neoguri seafood flavor. Likewise, I could differentiate between Nissin’s miso, tonkotsu, shoyu, pork, or prawn flavors rather easily. I would be able to inform you that I was about to slurp a bowl of Tung-I Chinese Onion Flavor simply by the nose.
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4. I have a young daughter who will be three in July. She is cute and funny and I’m a horrible role model because I can’t stop cussing. Profusely. In fact, I’m quite enamored with the F-bomb, as all 1.7 regular readers of this blog can attest. Due to a perfunctory corporate climate at my job, I am a language eunuch during the day. So when I get home, I have difficulty containing my excitement for a chance to use salty language. It is a problem that I have acknowledged.
However, I do not have any similar reservations about using colorful language on my blog, as my daughter is too young to read. I find the F-word, especially in gerund form, to be a fine rhetorical tool, a veritable colloquial Swiss army knife when employed by a skilled wordsmith. Why would any writer, especially a plebeian hack such as myself, deny the existence or refrain from the use of such an elocutionary flourish? Here is such an example writ large. Compare:
“It was good burrito.”
With…
“It was a fucking good burrito.”
Case closed.
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5. I am half-Vietnamese. As some people mistake me for being Latin or another indeterminately equatorial ethnicity of some sort, I’m often asked what my other half is, to which I reply “Cracker!”. I can make fun of both white people and Asians. It’s my right for being forced to check “Asian/Pacific Islander” on all my standardized tests in high school. First of all, how come America is so binary? You are either black or white, or something else altogether. When Tiger Woods splashed upon the scene, the media narrative dictated that he was the finest black golfer of all time, the first to win the Masters, etc. Which he certainly was…but with a father who was African AND Native American, but a mother who was FULL Thai, wouldn’t simple ratios qualify Tiger Woods as the best Thai golfer ever and first to win the Masters? The Sultan of Siam? Fuzzy Zoeller SHOULD have said, “You pat him on the back and say congratulations and enjoy it and tell him not to serve Khao Soi next year. Got it? Or Pad Kee Mow or Pad See Ew or whatever the hell they serve.”
And second, there’s only, what, 3 billion Asians? Maybe a few hundred thousand Pacific Islanders? Lumping both groups together under one umbrella gives short shrift to the Asian experience. How come there is no correlative option for “White/Caucasian/Icelandic” or “White/Caucasian/Baffin Islander?”
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There you have it. Five things you now know about me, time that could have been better spent watching Growing Pains reruns or cleaning the sock lint and jam from the inner nail nook of your big toe. For my part, I will pass the torch to the following:
- Hungry T at Tarte aux Poires
- Mary at Eat, Drink and Be Mary(Sue)
- Markovitch at gastronautical gastronomicon
- Sorcha at The Food N00bs
- Jared at The Carnivore Project
Consider yourselves tagged.
Fans Sour on Sweeter Version of Asia’s Smelliest Fruit. Mad scientists cross-breed the durian to temper it’s filthy stench. I still wouldn’t touch it.
Normally I would welcome such an advance in technology that kills the foul odor that emanates from these Stegasarus testicles, but somehow it just feels wrong.
I’ve been grooving on Culinate, a new-ish entrant to the web food scene. Clean, user friendly and functional design, and great content. Portland’s own Jim Dixon is a contributor, spreading his olive oil wisdom and giving tips on how to feed your dog without killing it.
That is all.
I went to Higgins with a buddy last week (disclaimer: I also posted this @Portlandfood.org). I had the burger and was duly unimpressed.
It was definitely large and looked promising. But the texture was off. The menu doesn’t use the word “burger”, preferring to dress it up with euphemisms (“freshly ground sirloin on hearth-baked roll”). The ground sirloin just doesn’t cut it IMO. Too lean, for one, and the thick patty sunk like a lead balloon on that roll. 1/2 the way through it was tough to finish, like I was eating a solid meat donut (incidentally I gave up on the last couple bites as I could sense a large lump of meatitude in my abdomen – I can’t remember the last time I didn’t finish a non-fast food burger).
There was very little discernable flavor outside of thick, brutal meatness. At $11, I have had a better $5 Sysco burger at Yur’s — and it included Sysco fries. This burger was served with a perfunctory mayo/aioli, no tomato, just a meager portion of house made pickles that were basically limp wisps of sliced cucumber and a single cornichon. It came with a lightly dressed mesclun mix that was sprinkled with hazelnuts.
Also had the open-faced pastrami sandwich. I’m no pastrami expert, but I can say this fared better than the burger – served with grilled onions and melted white cheddar. Same salad on the plate.
I didn’t pay for the meal – we were on our way to see The Apples in Stereo @Berbati’s, so my buddy picked up the tab (since I had paid for show tickets). However, had I paid, I may have said something about this:
Especially considering I couldn’t even get as much ketchup from the glass container as I wanted for my burger (it was running on low-to-empty). I had considered asking our waitron for more ketchup, but simply didn’t bother – I wonder if we would have been double-charged.
Again, mediocre burger. No fucking fries. Charging for ketchup and mustard? Criminal.
Most restaurants don’t make their own desserts. They farm that work out to local bakeries or mega-dessert conglomerates like Bindi. I’m not saying these outsourced desserts aren’t good – they’re just not homemade.
Agreed. I’d rather sport for another appetizer to round out the meal. Why waste 700 calories on something sweet and cloying? Bah.
I had the misfortune of catching a few seconds of this morning’s presser on the way in to work. The above photo captures the essence of this man. He is a petulant, snot-nosed brat with the mentality of a 10 year-old.
Ralph Wiggum at least has a good heart and would never send people off to die to placate his inordinate hubris.
I like kebabs. I particularly enjoy the Kefta kebab, which is ground meat formed around a skewer in kebab-like fashion. I like saying the word kefta. It’s one of those words, like película and Kofi Annan, that you never grow tired of saying. I remember when Congress a couple years ago was debating the merits of the Central America Free Trade Agreement, I secretly wished the debate would draw out into a longer, more contentious debate than it had at the time, just because I enjoyed all the talking heads uttering the acronym “CAFTA” (which was close enough for me). Each time I watched the news I’d get hungry.
You can make this with beef or beef and lamb as well. New Seasons sells ground lamb, though keep in mind it is very fatty and will imbue quite a gamy scent into the atmosphere for some time. My wife was all bothered and stuff, but the deliciousness factor made her harangues worth it.
Kefta Kebab
- 1 and one-half pounds ground beef or lamb (or both!)
- 1 bunch chopped fresh Italian parsley, reserve a couple tablespoons (to cook with rice)
- 2 tablespoons chopped cilantro
- 1 egg
- 1/3 cup bread crumbs
- 3 or 4 garlic cloves, forced through a press
- 1 white onion, finely chopped
- 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
- 1 teaspoon ground coriander
- 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
- Ground pepper
- Salt to your taste
Combine everything in a large mixing bowl and mix together with your hands. I like to use long, flat broad metal skewers — mold the meat around the length of the skewer and pat to form an elongated, rectangular patty.
Heat a grill pan over medium-high and brown skewers on each of the 4 ends, 2 minutes or so each side. Remove and let sit for a few minutes.
You can eat this skewers by themselves. But c’mon, man, don’t be such freak.
Rice Pilaf
- Olive oil or butter (2 tablespoons)
- 2 cups basmati rice
- 2 tablespoons chopped parsley
- 3 cups chicken broth
- 1 onion, finely chopped
- 2 cloves minced garlic
- 1 chopped tomato
- Pinch of saffron
- Salt
Preheat oven to 325 F. Rinse and soak rice in water for half hour. Drain. Heat oil or butter in a medium saucepan (with a tight fitting lid) over medium heat. Add onions and sweat for a couple minutes, then add garlic, rice and saffron and sautee for a couple minutes. Add tomatoes, salt, and broth. Bring to boil, cover, and place in oven for 20 minutes. Allow the rice to sit on stovetop for 10 minutes, then fluff with a fork.
Sumac Onions
- 1 white onion, halved and sliced
- Ground sumac
- Olive oil
Sautee onions in oil. Hit with sumac when they start to caramelize, and serve over kebabs.
I like to squeeze lemon over the kebab, onions, and rice.
I’m watching some Okie on PBS wading in a muddy bog on his hands and knees, “noodling” into a deep hole on the side of some Oklahoman river, pulling out — with his bare hands — a catfish the size of a large beagle or corgie. He’s wearing jeans and a flannel shirt.
Huh.
Food bloggers dish up plates of spicy criticism. “Formerly formal discipline of reviewing becomes a free-for-all for online amateurs”.
If you think restaurant critics from mainstream newspapers, television and magazines are tough on the food industry, you haven’t spent much time in cyberspace. Online message boards, gossip columns, city restaurant guides and food blogs are proliferating and having a profound influence on where consumers spend their eating dollars. The once-genteel discipline of restaurant reviewing has turned into a free-for-all, celebrated by some as a new-world democracy but seen by others as populist tyranny.
Jared @The Carnivore Project, timed perfectly with March Madness, has posted the final round of The Meat Bracket, which aims to crown THE ULTIMATE MEAT.
It’s Bacon vs. Roast Chicken in the finals. Vote early and often, and don’t let bitter grapes about Tofu being shut out prevent you from performing your civic duties.
A dangerous new player in NYC’s underground gourmet scene, FM is a group of relentless carnophiles who provide dinner parties the absolute freshest meat possible. This involves bringing a soon-to-be-delicious animal to your apartment, then taking it through all stages of preparation, starting in your bathtub, and ending in your oven.
I have a lot of work to do, so here’s a post to tide all 1.7 readers of this blog over for the time being.
Blah blah blah factory farming blah blah blah foie gras rules blah blah blah best fig ever blah blah blah snooty waiter blah blah blah Russian River Valley Pinot blah blah blah Michael Pollan blah blah blah Kansas City BBQ blah blah blah sparkling vs still blah blah blah braised pork belly blah blah blah Adrià Achatz Blumenthal Cantu Dufresne blah blah blah west coast pizza sucks blah blah blah kumquat foam blah blah blah Tony Bourdain blah blah blah Fleur de Sel blah blah blah Nikon D70 blah blah blah bread recipe blah blah blah tacos and pho blah blah blah French Laundry blah blah blah fair trade coffee blah blah blah Flickr Youtube Technorati blah blah blah Rachael Ray sucks ass.
Until recently, most Americans have been appallingly ignorant of how their food is produced. That is changing. And Mr. Puck’s gift for showmanship will help advance Americans’ knowledge that they can eat well and do right all at the same time.
Good. Good for Puck. But I doubt it will have any significant effect on a society that bleats endlessly about American Idol controversies in lieu of paying actual attention to anything that imprints specificity upon their daily lives.
Start them early. What’s Next, Wine in Sippy Cups?.
Put this in a Chewbacca lunch pail with a Lunchables of Jamón serrano and Manchego cheese. Dessert can include shot of port and optional AA popup book.
Just because I wanted to indulge myself in a debilitating bout of self hatred, I endured 15 minutes of the Food Network’s “Chefography” on Sandra Lee. Fifteen minutes was all I could take — I felt myself slouching dangerously close towards self-immolation, much like a depressed goth teen cutting herself in the basement, or Michael Hutchence that split moment before asphyxiation (when he realized he was beyond the safe zone but, dammit, he still hadn’t shot his load).
The sycophantic murmurs from her friends, given in testimonial form, were probably the most banal treacle I’ve had the misfortune of witnessing since Colin Powell made a bunch of right-wing bedwetters soil their Underoos — and convinced the entire corporate media establishment to endorse a war — on the strength of single Powerpoint presentation. And it didn’t even have any cool, animated slide transitions.
One friend of hers claimed (and I paraphrase) “she is always thinking about trying something new…for instance, she’ll say to herself, next time I’ll use a smoky cheese in that omelette, maybe spinach”. That’s the kind of ingenuity rarely seen outside of a second grade show and tell.
Another friend offered up the fact “she has photos of family in every room” as evidence of her effusive humanity. By that standard anyone with a Shutterfly account is the fucking Dalai Lama. And some other crackpot lady claimed Sandra Lee has spearheaded the crock pot revival, claiming Lee realized that its “time (was) coming again, (and) what she did so smartly, was take it to a new generation, a new demographic.” That’s rich — and Kid Rock revived rap.
I know it’s low hanging fruit and bashing Sandra Lee is hardly original, but she really must either a) be fucking some exec at the Food Network or b) have a photo of the same exec in bed with a dead hooker or a live boy.
After the Sandra Lee hagiography, the “Chefography” for Bobby Flay followed. For that, I trot out an old favorite (via Je Mange le Ville) — The Staggering Dicketry of Bobby Flay.
A sample nugget (from Flay’s “Chefography”): when recounting his upbringing on the “mean” streets that gave him his worldly smarts, Flay would tell people he went to UCLA. “You went to school in California?” they would ask. “No, the University of Corner of Lexington Avenue.”
Kill me. Quickly.
Chefography
Food Network. Check your local listings.
I ran across these buffalo patties in the freezer case at Costco. They come 8 to a package (5 oz each).
As you can see, the copywriting on the back of the package educates on the plight of this poor animal, detailing the rough and tumble history this noble creature has endured over the centuries, fighting off near extinction just so we can eat it today. What a cruel, cruel fait accompli. We are all grim, macabre, and willing merchants of death.
One selling point for buffalo meat is the relative lean meat it provides. A 5 oz patty in this case has only 12 grams of fat, whereas a typical ground chuck burger would contain around 30 grams. At 9 calories per gram of fat, that’s a quite a savings. So much of a savings, in fact, that…well, you know those burgers, that are like, double burgers? Yeah.
Verdict? Meaty. Big. Bold. Substantial. It tastes as if you took Montana and stuck it between a toasted bun and dressed it with sharp Tillamook cheddar, lettuce, tomato, and distilled vinegar sauces.
On the heels of my own Pho post, both Eat,Drink&BeMerry and Wandering Chopsticks have excellent, comprehensive posts on this Vietnamese beef noodle soup.
The new year brought new changes to the Tres Hermanos taco truck, located in North Portland on the Northeast corner of Killingsworth and Denver. Click here for my original report.
(Click menu for a detailed view). Gone is the handwritten menu, replaced a proper, printed, wide format placard with fonts and everything. The menu is much more prolific, as you can see (but not really, everything is simply just enumerated), and now includes “Super Burrits” which I assume is a misspelling. In a nod to gringos and stoners, Nachos makes a guest appearance.
But tacos is where all the hot action is. Taco prices have gone up a quarter. First trip here after the fancy new menu, I had the birria, cabeza, and barbacoa. The birria was very good, very flavorful, slightly gamey. The cabeza was decent, but the barbacoa was extremely off/odd tasting.
They now feature squirt bottles with table sauces. Prior to the printed menu, they would simply ask you if you wanted your tacos full metal jacket, and you would have to be content with what was dressed (they didn’t have bottles) but now you can squirt to your heart’s content. And they now have a bright orange habanero sauce that is absolutely dynamite. But you’ll have to ask for the salsa bottles that are in plain view behind the ordering window…and specifically for the habanero, as I think by default they don’t think patrons demand this kind of scorch.
Subsequent visits have seen me revert to my taco triumvirate — pastor, carnitas, and asada. The asada has been less crispy than in the past, but the carnitas has improved IMO, and the pastor seems even more flavorful and delicious.
The tortillas are amazing. They are now thicker, and are made to order with your tacos (each taco is double wrapped in tortillas). Warm, cozy, and wonderful. They sell them to go: ask for a dozen, pony up $2 (though last time I was charged $3?), and they will make them on the spot and wrap in foil for you to carry.
I will eat vegan. More often than you’d probably think. In fact, I enjoy it at times.
Here’s some evidence.
Tofu, broccoli, and mushroom stir fry.
I ate this with wild and brown rice.
Dark Restaurant: Where one eats in total darkness.
The first dark restaurant in Asia is officially opened on the 23 December 2006. This restaurant, located in Beijing, China, has its interior painted completely in black. Customers are greeted by a brightly lit entrance hall and will be escorted by waiters wearing night vision goggles into the pitch dark dining room to help them find their seats. Flashlights, mobile phones and even luminous watches are prohibited while in this area.
The meal will be taken in this environment with the complete loss of vision. By starving one’s sense, your other senses are stimulated to full alert – all so the theory goes – and your food will taste like it’s never tasted before. In case you are wondering about the washrooms, they are all brightly lit.
I’m not sure if I’d be too eager to sign up for this. First of all, it’s pitch dark, so what’s to prevent some perve with a night vision scope from sneaking up and giving you a finger bang against your will? And if something is shaved with truffles and you’re paying $75 for it…how do you really know? Then again, nobody is going to see you if you want to pick up your plate and hoover every last truffle to make sure.
Come to think of it, this would be a concept better suited for, say, a rib joint, so you can go totally atavistic on a bone or a plate of chicken wings without caring a whit about appearances. And truly, whoever smelt it dealt it — no need for a poker face after ripping one.
Click through and check out the masked waiters, who look like (straight out of Blade Runner) industrial designers of frozen, biorobotic Replicant eyes.
I just fucking went to Whole Foods, sat at the track sushi bar and spent $12 on 3 small fucking plates of sushi. Still hungry, got $5+ worth of mussel salad on the way out. Got back to the office, took one bite and threw it away.
$17+ for a workday lunch and I’m still hungry.
Fuck Whole Foods. Fuck you. Fucker.
After getting an earful (get it?) from those advocating for bunny wunny, food blogger makes peace. Sort of.
Lesson here? I dunno. Something. Does everything need to be distilled into an easily consumed, after-school-special-like sound bite?
Eating mammals is a messy, complicated business. We are all death merchants.
High-brow brews. “Boulevard joins brewers creating beers with the complex characteristics of wine.”
And to drink better, they’re willing to pay a premium. A Rogue Imperial India Pale Ale from Newport, Ore., goes for $13 for 750 milliliters, a price more comparable to wine than a six-pack. Even the O’Fallon Smoked Porter, which is best enjoyed with barbecue ribs, rings up at $4 per 22-ounce bottle. Boulevard craft beers will cost $7 to $13 for 750 milliliter bottles (about 24 ounces).
“A growing segment of the population wants more flavorful products, more premium products,” Gatza says. And, like wine, “they will have several different beer styles in the refrigerator, from several breweries, so that they can match beer to the occasion.”
In honor of National Potato Chip Day, I’ve decided to pay homage to a recently introduced, heavyweight contender.
Rarely does a chip come around that punches you in the solar plexus and makes you stand up and take notice.
Kettle™ brand Spicy Thai is such a chip. It is a snack that screams “Notice me! Behold me. You can’t ignore me. I am your muse. Your raison d’etre.”
Spicy Thai has really taken the industry by storm and has almost singularily redefined the snack landscape. Not since the combination of fancy nutmeats in an unguarded moment of peanut exclusionary packaging has the snack world been shaken from its complacent doldrums.
The flavor profile is simultaneously intricate, subdued, and bold. At first you’re hit with what is almost a cloying sweetness. This is simply Kettle toying with your emotions. You’re then clobbered over the head with a rush of ginger, and then a distinctly potent slow burn.
Kettle is based here in Oregon (Salem), and they do much that is to be admired. Witness the delicate prose extolling the chip on the backside of the packaging:
A Chip That Travels Far for Flavor
As true chip innovators, we love a challenge. So when a fan suggested that we take Thai cuisine’s complex balance of flavors — sweetness, spice and salt — and balance it on a chip, we reached for our passports. We’ve incorporated the refreshing sweetness and snap of ginger and the red peppery pop of Thai spice to create a collision of East and West in the crunch of the world’s most worldly chip. Have Kettle™ brand — will travel. No passport required.
Under the dominion of any other corporate stewardship, this would be mere treacle and hyperbole. In this case, truer words have never been inscribed. I would personally like to meet and thank the “fan” that compelled Kettle™ brands to conjure such a masterpiece. He/she deserves accolades and adulation, and is worthy of bestowal of the highest honors we accord to those who advance humanity and progress to the zenith of benevolent accomplishment (hint: Nobel Prize).
Built for Speed, but Looking for Love.
WATCHING a three-and-a-half-pound chicken roast in 14 minutes, time loses all meaning. The skin turns gold and crisp, juices immediately rise to the surface, and the flesh firms before your eyes. It’s dizzying and seductive, like the home makeovers on TV that compress a six-month renovation into a single afternoon.
…
TurboChef, however, has put an unusual amount of research and design energy into adapting its product for residential use. It will be introduced next month, priced at $5,995 for a solo unit and $7,895 for a TurboChef combined with a conventional oven. The company is pitching — hard — the notion that its appliance will do no less than revolutionize American home cooking.
Time to sell the Jetta.
Today I felt like getting a sandwich. I work in exurbia, and if I want to expand beyond our campus cafeteria my sandwich choices are corporately limited, i.e. Subway and Quiznos. I opt for the latter, as eating Subway is akin to listening to Phil Collin’s Sussudio (i.e. like Cabel Sasser claims, “…it’s like not eating anything at all!”). Plus, it’s been painful watching Jerrod devolve over the years into a sanctimonious, smug pig-fucker.
Quiznos, it should be mentioned, allows you to dress your sandwich with as many pickled peppers (3 kinds!), pickles, and dressings (3 kinds!) as you’d like. For an obsessively compulsive condiment and garnish hoarder like myself, that is like oxycontin.
So I headed over to Quiznos’ presence on the Interweb to see if there were any ground-breaking announcements that would sway my impending auto excursion to its friendly environs one way or another.
Nothing to see, outside of the odd choice in subject matter for the home page poll.
This type of Sophie’s Choice strikes me as a bit uneven for a corporate entity with a finely honed commercial image. A card-carrying member of the hoi polloi, such a myself, might even be given pause during his innocent search for a toasted sandwich. Perhaps the website poll editor today was stricken by a bout of existential suffering that manifests via deep ruminations of life’s ethical conundrums.
If so, here are a few other poll options I feel would capture the spirit of the moment:
boy_asunder (via Portlandfood.org), bless his soul, was kind enough to scout a menu from the soon-to-be Biwa, which he posted to his site.
So many good things there I don’t know where to start. Well, I do. The ramen. Pork belly also makes a few appearances. Homemade kimchi. Pork cheek. Various grilled succulents.
Excuse me, I need to go towel off.
Mayor tells Muni to investigate eliminating fares.
Margaret Cliver, a 50-year-old Mission District resident who commutes by bus, fears the same problems on Muni.
“Gavin Newsom must have taken a leave of his senses to even consider this. Muni is already overloaded with stinky crazies, loud-mouth-behaved louts and other zoological forms of low life. The day it becomes entirely free, it will become a dumpster on wheels, and I, along with the rest of those who currently attempt to use the system, will give up on it entirely,” Cliver said.
“Other zoological forms of low life” = instant classic. Gives this lady a blog.
Priests to purify site after Bush visit.
Mayan priests will purify a sacred archaeological site to eliminate “bad spirits” after President Bush visits next week, an official with close ties to the group said Thursday.
Noted without comment.
Philadelphia’s BYO Revolution. “How Budget-Minded Brown-Baggers Have Energized A City’s Dining Scene”.
We were at Pumpkin, a 28-seat restaurant owned by a young couple in a neighborhood that, depending on your outlook, could be called emerging, marginal or flat-out dicey. The candlelit former deli has a single storefront window and an open kitchen. Gauzy orange curtains hang from exposed fixtures, and the secondhand tables, pushed tight together, are covered in butcher paper. The short, frequently changing menu is printed on a single sheet of paper. The food, such as braised veal cheeks, pan-seared sea scallops or a pork chop served over spaetzle, is admirable and at times approaches outstanding.
In other words, Pumpkin follows the pattern of cool BYOBs all over Philadelphia, where crowds of people with brown paper bags of wine and beer in tow wait patiently for tables.
…
Over the past decade, Philadelphia has experienced an astounding boom in BYOB dining. When Audrey Claire opened in 1996, it was one of only two fine-dining BYOBs in the city, along with longtime favorite Dmitri’s. Now, in the metropolitan region, there are more than 240.
Beats standing in a cheesesteak line for hours at Geno’s and having your genitals scalded with a ladle of hot industrial whiz because you speak French or something.
EatDrink&BeMerry asked for a Pho recipe, so here’s mine.
The Portland Angle
This Portland-centric info won’t help EatDrink&BeMerry, but he lives in Southern California, the land of Ranch 99 markets and over a quarter of a million Vietnamese, so I’m sure he’ll manage. (After all, he’s a resourceful guy who managed to score an entire segment in Tony Bourdain’s No Reservations LA episode!)
There’s a short list of stores I would consider for an all-inclusive Pho run. They are in my order of preference:
1. Thanh Thao market, 65th and Sandy.
2. Hong Phat market on Prescott and 99th.
3. Fubonn
4. Uwajimaya
Certainly, there are other stores.
The first two market are Vietnamese, Fubonn is pan-Asian, as is Uwajimaya, though the latter obviously primarily Japanese. But Uwajimaya sells fresh rice noodles, has an incomparable selection of Asian produce, and you can find bones necessary to make a fine stock.
But it’s at Vietnamese markets like Than Thao where you’re going to have certain details taken care for you. Like at the butcher counter you can get pre-bagged portions of beef leg soup bones, and oxtails by the pound.
I like to buy my meat pre-sliced from Thanh Thao market on 65th and Sandy – it’s lean, consistently thin slices of the eye of round. At $3.29/lb, it’s a bargain.
If you are slicing it from home from your own eye, you can freeze it for an hour before slicing. It’s key to get the meat as thin as possible. If for some reason round is unavailable, you could also in a pinch use london broil, but keep it cheap and lean. This is peasant food, and something like strip or ribeye would be wasteful. That’s not to say a frou-frou version of Pho Tai couldn’t be something like, say, raw buffalo carpaccio draped on fresh rice tagliatelli and poached with scalding hot, anise-and-lovage-scented brown veal stock, topped with julienne of cinnamon basil and saw leaf herb, but you wouldn’t see me making this in my humble kitchen (even if I had the ambition).
Pho Tai
Pho Tai basically means Pho with raw, lean beef (“Tai”). This is my favorite type of Pho, but it is also very good with braised, tender beef (commonly brisket — Chin), or with lean, cooked flank (Nam). With two types of meat? Pho Tai Chin.
The Broth
I like a fragrant broth. Many people would probably be bothered by the variety and proliferation of aromatics and spices in my Pho broth. I don’t care. I live life to the fullest, with wanton disregard for prudes and haters.
- A few pounds of beef leg bones (you could use oxtails — expensive, but tasty — and strip the meat from the bones for the Pho Tai Chin)
- 1 extremely large onion
- A bunch of water
- One cinnamon stick
- 6-8 star anise
- 10 cloves
- 1 decent knob of ginger, washed
- 3 allspice berries
- 1 teaspoon coriander seeds
- 1 teaspoon white peppercorns
- 1 teaspoon black peppercorns
- Couple carrots
- Half bunch of celery
- 1 nugget of rock sugar
- Kosher Salt
- Fish sauce
- MSG (yes, MSG! Ajinomoto, of course)
Put the bones in a large stockpot and cover with water…say a full 12 inches over the bones themselves, and crank up the heat.
My mom impressed the following method upon me: peel the onion, and then stud that thing with cloves, really sticking the points deep into the onion flesh to make sure they are firmly implanted. Turn on the flame of your gas stove (or you can use a creme brulee or crackpipe torch) and, using tongs, scald that allium, turning to toast all the clove points and to get an even char all over the onion. Throw into the stockpot, and repeat with ginger.
Put the rest of the spices into a dry cast iron pan, and toast over high heat for a minute, and dump into the pot. Add carrots (unpeeled) and celery.
Disclaimer: for a clear broth, some people say to boil the bones, and skim off the “foam”. But I prefer just to allow everything to simmer for a buttload of time (the impurities seem to melt and evaporate away) and then strain.
So…bring everything to a healthy boil, then add rock sugar and reduce to simmer. Personally, I would have started this around 8am or 8pm, because this is going to take a while. Simmer for 6-8 hours. Yes…even overnight on the lowest of low settings.
Strain broth through a fine sieve (it helps to own more than one stockpot — I own three. But I am a notorious hoarder). Sometimes I’ll cool the broth in the fridge, and skim off the coagulated fat “sheet” that accumulates. Other times I’ll just eat an unctuous first bowl of Pho, and then cool and skim later.
Bring back to a healthy simmer, and season with fish sauce (3 tablespoons?), salt, and a couple teaspoons of MSG. Do this in stages, and taste constantly. There is no magic formula — everything is approximate and requires constant salty bootstrapping to get it just right.
The noodles
Use fresh, thin rice noodles. Usually 99 cents for an entire pound. Blanch in boiling water for no more than 20 seconds, and then strain and bowl immediately.
Assemble
Bring the broth to a roiling boil. Drape thin slices of Tai over the noodles. Top with:
- Paper thin slices of onion
- Sliced green onions
- Chopped cilantro
- The leaves from a few sprigs of Thai basil
- A small handful of bean sprouts
- 2-3 torn pieces of culantro (ngo gai aka saw leaf herb)
- Fresh chilis (I like to snip two small bird chilis with kitchen shears, but sliced jalapenos are quite common)
Using a ladle, skim the scalding, boiling broth over the noodles, beef, and garnishes. Hit that soup with a couple dashes of nuoc mam (fish sauce) and the juice of half a lime, and give it a few grinds of white and black pepper. Enjoy.
FDA Rules Override Warnings About Drug. Cattle Antibiotic Moves Forward Despite Fears of Human Risk.
The government is on track to approve a new antibiotic to treat a pneumonia-like disease in cattle, despite warnings from health groups and a majority of the agency’s own expert advisers that the decision will be dangerous for people.
The drug, called cefquinome, belongs to a class of highly potent antibiotics that are among medicine’s last defenses against several serious human infections. No drug from that class has been approved in the United States for use in animals.
The American Medical Association and about a dozen other health groups warned the Food and Drug Administration that giving cefquinome to animals would probably speed the emergence of microbes resistant to that important class of antibiotics, as has happened with other drugs. Those super-microbes could then spread to people.
But for some reason I watched it three times straight.
I blame fluoride.
Laura Bush speaking tonight on Larry King Live:
“Many parts of Iraq are stable now. But, uh, of course, what we see on television is the one bombing a day that discourages everyone.”
Laura, I know what you mean. Most of the time, my house is very quiet. But of course, the COPS television crew just would have to show up each night after I’ve been sniffing glue and I’m beating my wife.
I blame the media.
Blow for beer as biofuels clean out barley.
The rapid expansion of biofuel production may be welcome news for environmentalists but for the world’s beer drinkers it could be a different story.
Strong demand for biofuel feedstocks such as corn, soyabeans and rapeseed is encouraging farmers to plant these crops instead of grains like barley, driving up prices.
Biodiesel is a sham. Junk science. Kunstler is right. Fuck biodiesel. Its false promises are enablers. We need to get away from using our cars and fooling ourselves that this easy-motoring society is our birthright.
IT’S TAKING AWAY OUR BEER GODDAMNIT.
Teacher faces 40 years because of Microsoft Internet Explorer? Dear God. Make it stop.
A note on Maggi. I commonly use this liquid MSG incubator when I eat things with rice or when I need something to soak my sandwiches.
I’ve mentioned this before, but it bears repeating. There are two types of Maggi. One looks like this:
…and is manufactured stateside. Notice the label, how they suggest that only a few drops will do. Yes, this is unnecessarily preachy. That is because we are America, a nanny state. We can’t be bothered to allow our citizens to exercise free choice and sentient will; we are sheeple that need to be prodded and poked, lectured and proselytized to. We consider commercials broadcast in the first half hour of the Super Bowl to be a cultural high water mark, and suburban strip malls overwhelming barometers of the prevailing zeitgeist when multiplied by the activity coefficients of a Starbucks and an I Sold It on Ebay franchise.
This is what the European version looks like:
This is the good stuff, and it costs twice as much as the stateside produced Maggi. Notice the much more subtle messaging.
The compelling argument to use just a couple dashes is buried on the side of the bottle. This is what a thousand years of intra-continental warfare, colonization and subjugation of foreign countries, religious and ethnic cleansing, genocide, and systematic classism gets you. You become a bit more laid back and the mommy message lives on the side label.
So is the imported Maggi worth it? My mom swears so, and I listen to my mommy.
I ate this all the time growing up. My mom would make a dozen of these, and my brothers and I would eat them over the course of a day or two. It was an easy, go-to meal in our household.
I suppose you can call this a version of the ubiquitous Egg Foo Young. It’s actually known as Trung Mam Hap, but this is my take on the steamed Vietnamese egg dish. That version is more like a cross between a Japanese omelette for sushi (tamago) and a soufflé. I’m not a huge fan of the texture of Trung Mam Hap — for me it’s too light and delicate. This is more substantial and savory, in my opinion. I have enough emasculation issues already.
Egg, Pork (and Shrimp) “Pancakes”
- 3/4 lb ground pork
- 1/3 cup dried woodear mushroom strips, soaked in hot water for 10 minutes, and drained
- 2 or 3 minced garlic cloves
- 2 or 3 chopped shallots
- 3 green onion, chopped
- Cracked black pepper
- 1/8 pound mung bean thread noodles, soaked in hot water for 10 minutes, and drained
- 6-7 healthy dashes of nuoc mam
- 1/4 pound raw, chopped (very fine to almost a ground consistency) shrimp
- 1 teaspoon sugar
- 6 eggs
Beat eggs in a bowl. Combine all ingredients (except eggs) in a separate, large mixing bowl. Pour eggs over meat mixture, and use your hands to really mix the shit together.
Pour out “batter” on preheated, oiled non-stick pan. Cover and cook over medium low for 5 minutes. Flip and repeat, uncovered.
I eat this with Maggi (the favored, potent, delivery vehicle of choice for MSG salt bombs) and steamed jasmine rice.
Via Serious Eats, the $14 hot dog.
The “Texas Haute Dog” at Max’s Wine Dive, the wildly popular new wine bar and restaurant on Washington Avenue, goes for $14. It’s a grass-fed beef frankfurter on a Kraftsmen bun, topped with “house-made” pickled jalapeños, venison chili, cotija cheese and crispy fried onions that look remarkably like the Durkees canned onions of green bean casserole fame. The dog is served on top of a pile of hand-cut frites (that’s French for French fries) that have been garnished with more venison chili.
“Haute Dog”. Get it? Har har. In Houston, of course, the land of defense contractors that routinely defraud the American people of billions of dollars. It would only make sense that’s where the $14 hot dog lives and breathes.
First of all, check out the photo. That thing is so monstrous it looks damn near inedible, thereby violating the axiom decreed by The Hot Dog Council that you should not take more than five bites to eat a hot dog.
Second of all, shut the fuck up.
Rats Run Wild in KFC-Taco Bell in N.Y.
Not sure why this is a problem. That’s sustainable, free-range meat.
MAX nutritive observation: last week, I boarded a MAX train headed for downtown, and a woman boarded at the next stop and sat across from me.
She proceeded to eat an entire Big Grab bag of Nacho Cheese Doritos, which she chased with a soda. She then got up and shifted to a forward facing seat down a ways from me — perhaps she noticed me eyeing her suspiciously. She then proceeded to eat 3 consecutive Red Vines until I deboarded at my stop.
It was 7 AM.
SDF deploys perky mascot to boast cuddly image.
“Prince Pickles is our image character because he’s very endearing, which is what Japan’s military stands for,” said Defense Ministry official Shotaro Yanagi. “He’s our mascot and appears in our pamphlets and stationery.”
Graham at the excellent noodlepie pulls together a very comprehensive anthology of Vietnamese food videos.
There is much activity in the Valley of the Dancing Bare.
The last couple months have seen the opening of North Portland branches of The Cup and Saucer and E-san Thai. I have yet to visit either, and although I don’t have any desire to dine at The Cup and Saucer, there does appear to be a wait every time I go past the joint, so apparently there’s a demand in the neighborhood for restaurants that serve food.
And after visiting the bank this weekend, as I biked down N. Denver with my daughter in tow, I noticed a new pizza joint is opening up/has opened (they are closed for lunch until next week). I forgot the name, but it looks somewhat promising. In addition to pizza, they have some standard Italian fare as well. There is a counter up front where you can get slices, but the place appears to snake into a dining room towards the back that is flanked by a FULL BAR(!). A decent place within biking distance to my house with a FULL BAR is always a good thing.
Also, next door is a liquor store that promises to open on President’s Day, obviously to honor this country’s fine tradition of lushes and drunkards who have occupied the White House (present company included).
And Kenton Station appears to be taking notice of their fancy new neighbors and revitalizing themselves (not knowing enough about the place…vitalizing?) as they proudly displayed a sign advertising a Fat Tuesday celebration sponsored by New Belgium replete with live music and everything.
The crusty feller who cut my hair at 7-Bucks-A-Whack (oh yes it is worth every dollar) claimed there are possible plans to tear up the entire stretch of Denver Avenue north of Lombard and repave the street with a median overflowing with decorative landscaping and wide sidewalks featuring benches that people can actually sit on. Upon conclusion of this public works project I would suspect Kenton gains serious cred as an entrepot of all things exciting and mysterious.
Holy OMFG. Via The Great Taco Hunt — World record pastor.
A group of businessmen in the Mexican city of Chihuahua broke a tasty record Friday, making a hunk of meat on a skewer big enough to serve 24,000 tacos….the meat for a pastor taco, a variety of the Mexican dish that consists of pork squashed onto a stake, weighed 3.9 tons and was 13 feet high…
Officials from the Guinness Book of World Records recognized the hunk of meat as the world’s “largest skewer of kebab meat.”
Where are they gonna get all the radishes? How come nobody told me about this? This was the Hajj of my lifetime. Oh well. Hello empty, meaningless life.
It is delicious on a hot summer’s day.
Dear God. The canned guffaw track really does makes something so horrifically bad seem even more so. Kinda like putting Miracle Whip on Jello Pudding Pop.
If there was any affirmation of the truism behind why the Right has Ted Nugent and the Left has Bob Dylan, this is it.
Drink’s big claim: It burns calories. “Skeptics don’t buy Coca-Cola, Nestlé green tea product.”
Sweet. Can’t wait to add it to my KFC, pork rinds and ranch dressing induction diet.
Tofu and egg fried rice topped with Maggi fried egg.
Banh cuon is a popular Vietnamese dish. There’s a restaurant in the Fubonn plaza, called Banh Cuon Tan Dinh, which, as you can guess, specializes in Banh Cuon. You could go there. They take credit cards and everything.
But here’s another tip for you: you can eat it at home as well, quite easily, for 1/3 the price. There’s a store on 99th and Prescott, called Hong Phat, and another on 65th and Sandy, Thanh Thao, that sell pre-made banh cuon. Don’t worry, all banh cuon is pre-made…you don’t whip up this dish on the spot. It’s a (slight) reheat and simple garnish effort, so as long as the banh cuon itself is of decent comport, you’ll be in a good spot as long as you’ve got your garnish act together. And it’s cheap…you can get nearly 3 servings out of a single to-go container.
First of all, what are banh cuon? Imagine it as a rice flour cannoli. Sheets of rice “pasta” or “crepe” are rolled around a filling consisting (usually) of seasoned and sauteed ground pork and wood ear mushrooms. The banh cuon are plated and typically topped with fried shallots, fresh herbs, blanched bean sprouts, and thin slices of cha lua (a fish sauce scented pork loaf, aka Vietnamese bologna). The whole plate is given a generous drink of nuoc cham, a Vietnamese condiment made with fish sauce (“nuoc mam”), chilies, sugar, lime juice, and often pickled garlic, and maybe dressed with some shredded carrots or even daikon.
The banh cuon themselves are rather labor intensive. I guess. My mom never made them much growing up, because one of her best friends was in business making Vietnamese specialties like banh cuon, bun bao, even her own cha lua, and selling them to the Vietnamese community (and a few Tucson area offices during lunch). This friend made amazing stuff, so what was the point in doing it yourself? So what I’m doing here, taking other people’s canvasses and coloring by numbers, is very much in the fine tradition of the Vietnamese-American experience. That, and marathon gambling, moth balls, yelling into phone handsets for no apparent reason, voting knee-jerkingly Republican, 2-foot spoilers on Nissan Sentras, drinking insane amounts of Hennessey, shaming your own children because their friend’s child graduated from UC Irvine with a BSEE in 2.5 years, harboring a healthy distrust of conventional FDIC-insured banking institutions, etc.
If you do want to make it yourself, here’s a very nice step-by-step post and wonderful photo gallery.
Hong Phat and Thanh Thao will give you the base banh cuon to work from. The sell these plastic to-go containers in their respective deli sections for only $5. One advantage of making them yourself: these are a bit on sparse end in terms of meat filling, so if you rolled your own you can be more generous. But since it’s only $5, they taste just fine, and I will be adding a generous helping of sliced meat topping, I’m not going to be a whiny ass titty baby about it.
Here are the toppings:
1. Bean sprouts. Blanch them in boiling water for about 10 seconds and then drain and shock them in an ice bath and then drain and set aside.
2. Cucumber. Peel, cut off the end, then score the blunt end three times, then slice thinly.
3. Cilantro. Chop up a bunch.
4. Mint (if you want to add that purplish mint and shiso then you’re well on your way in becoming the coolest person ever). Chop up a bunch, yeah?
5. Thai basil leaves (optional). I like it. Or not.
6. Fried shallots. You can do this yourself, or buy the dried stuff the sell on the shelves.
7. Nuoc cham sauce (recipe to follow).
8. Cha lua . Slice as thin as possible and then halve those thin slices.
First the cha lua. Most markets will sell this brand, sometimes in the freezer section. This will do, but Hong Phat has their own cha lua THAT IS DEEP FRIED. And this is the lean stuff, not the stuff with the strange, ringworm-type vein of organ fat running the length of the loaf. I’ll mention it once again, in case you missed it the first time. This cha lua IS DEEP FRIED.
Apparently, once it is DEEP FRIED, it magically takes on transformative taxonomical properties and becomes “cha chien”. Simply amazing.
For the sake of the scientific method, I present you the cross-section of THE DEEP FRIED cha chien.
So here’s the MO: plate the banh cuon. I would only use about 1/3 (or slightly more) of the portion you’ve just bought. Top with bean sprouts and tent with plastic wrap. Nuke in the microwave for 45 seconds.
Scatter a generous amount of cha lua on top. Top with herbs and shallots.
Spoon as much nuoc cham as you’d like — I won’t tell you how much because I’m not normal and eat way too much of this stuff. I don’t want to drag you into my world. I didn’t choose this life, and it isn’t for everyone. Ride the snake if you must.
Here’s an example of the work-in-progress. Notice the pool of nuoc cham at the bottom of the plate. After finishing the banh cuon, I will drink this. Don’t judge me. I’m not a role model.
Case in point: I don’t subject my daughter to the sauce. It’s not for everyone. She has the innocence of childhood to experience before she herself foments any vices.
Now for the nuoc cham recipe.
Funny story. Growing up, we called this “nuoc mam”, when in fact it is properly referred to as “nuoc cham”. I guess. This point was really hammered home one occasion when I saw Emeril Lagasse in 1997 on the Food Network (before Emeril Live when he became a circus freakshow) make lemongrass beef salad and he kept saying “nuoc CHAAAAHHHHHHM” over and over with a huge emphasis on “CHAM” with a long overextension of the “AAAAHHHHMMM” like he was a drunk Red Sox fan yelling “No-MAAAHHHH Garcia-PAH-AAAHHHHHH”.
We still called fish sauce (the uncut, bottled stuff) “nuoc mam” as well. But whether you referred to fish sauce or the prepared condiment depended on context, much like when the Republican Party says they are all about upholding the constitution. And at every Vietnamese restaurant I’ve been to, each time I ask for nuoc mam with my goi cuon, there has been no misunderstanding, so I don’t think this was peculiar to my household.
That was not a funny story at all.
There are two schools of thought when it comes to the “nuoc CHAAAAHHHHHHM”. One, which is my Mom’s style, is spicy, vibrant, full of sweet and sour and tangy. She’s from the south, so I think of it as “The Republic” sauce. Up in the north, as I understand it (and I admittedly lack advanced comprehension skills), they can be a bit more timid, and will maybe just cut fish sauce with a bit of water and sugar. That’s it. Commie red bastards.
Uncle Ho’s Nightmare Sauce (aka aggressive Nuoc Cham)
- 1 or 2 garlic cloves
- Couple thai chilies
- 1/2 small can pickled garlic (you can find this at Viet/asian markets)
- 1 teaspoon ground chili paste (aka sambal olek)
- 1/2 cup fish sauce (buy the most expensive you can find – I use Flying Lion brand)
- 2/3 cup hot water
- 1/4 cup sugar
- 1 tablespoon rice wine vinegar
- 2 limes
- Shredded carrots if you want
Combine garlics, fresh chilis and ground chili in mortar and pound with a pestle. Transfer to a jar, and pour in wet ingredients. Halve the limes, and squeeze them into the jar. IMPORTANT! Don’t throw away that lime. Take a small paring knife and cut into the sections and get as much pulp sacs from the fruit itself. THIS IS IMPORTANT! I CANNOT STRESS IT ENOUGH.
Pour in sugar and stir until combined. Taste for sweetness, you might want to add some sugar to take the edge off.
This recipe scales incredibly well, and will keep a long time. I’ve been known to make a huge jar of the stuff and keep it in the back of my fridge. Usually I’ll time it so my batch of nuoc cham runs out just when my mom visits, and I’ll let her make the next industrial sized batch.
JACK CAFFERTY, CNN ANCHOR: Is Anna Nicole Smith still dead, Wolf?
BLITZER: Yes, we’re going to — updating our viewers coming up shortly on…
CAFFERTY: I can’t wait for that.
BLITZER: … the mysterious circumstances surrounding that, Jack. Thank you.
Our society has officially bottomed out.
This entry is a rebuttal to an entry in The Carnivore Project’s ongoing Meat Bracket, which aims to crown a lucky meatstuff “THE ULTIMATE MEAT”. Click here to vote.
I see Kangaroo has resorted to ad hominem attacks on tofu.
Shameful, really.
And in keeping in the spirit of dirty political maneuvers, Kangaroo twists Tofu’s own words to against itself to mischaracterize its policies and positions.
And Kangaroo starts a whisper campaign about Tofu’s alleged effect on the size of the male member.
Really low, and baselessly dishonest. In the world of political theater, this kind of stunt has a friendly bedfellow in George Bush’s hijinks during the 2000 Republican South Carolina primary. There, you’ll recall, Bush operatives played the racist card by claiming John McCain fathered an illegitimate Bengali child. They also said his lovely wife was hooked on prescription painkillers and was batshit insane. Kangaroo’s slurs and slanders bear the imprimatur of Karl Rove.
And just as it worked in South Carolina, I see in early voting patterns these slanderous lies are having the same effect on Tofu.
Kangaroo has no substantive policies from which to position itself as THE ULTIMATE, so it is relying simply on the trading of rumors, innuendo, and specious attacks that hit below the belt (literally).
The only thing Kangaroo can claim for itself is that it is healthy? It really wants to pick a battle with Tofu on its own turf? The sophistry! The absurdity of ludicrousnessosity of that premise is so laughable that I’m laughing so hard right now that I fell out of my chair ouch that hurt oh well it was so ludicrous to it was so worth it the pain you know so ludicrous.
Let me recap: Tofu is THE ULTIMATE. Just ask Jim Rutz.
Kangaroo is a furry marsupial. People flock to zoos in order to pay homage to this noble creature. So cute, so furry, so not-delicious. Healthy? Who the fuck wants healthy meat? You can’t braise kangaroo short ribs for hours in a La Cruset with red wine and cipollini onions. Kangaroo is an also-ran. It shouldn’t be invited to the kiddie table, much less make it to main event.
Kangaroo has nothing to run on, except slander, lies, and an appeal to the basest fears and discriminatory evils that lurk within the darkest hearts of mankind. I compel you to repudiate this atavism, to defenestrate the shackles of thousands of years of oppression.
First, they ignore you. Then they laugh at you. Then they fight you. Then you win.
This entry is a rebuttal to an entry in The Carnivore Project’s ongoing Meat Bracket, which aims to crown a lucky meatstuff “THE ULTIMATE MEAT”. Click here to vote. My name is Tofu and I approve this message.
The funny via Twitch @PortlandFood.org: Portland Barbie Dolls.
MIA:
- Overly self aware Laurelhurst or Alameda Barbie, complete with white liberal guilt and a token, adopted pet-Asian kid.
- Indie rock Ken with chain wallet, Arcade Fire t-shirt, and a voice chip that gurgles ironically pithy phrases like “Tron was the greatest movie ever.”
- Pioneer Square Barbie, with simultaneous mohawk-mullet, smelly hoodie, and pierced tongue, with a penchant for chain smoking and screaming at the top of her lungs in lieu of actual conversation.
EatDrinkandBeMerry goes on the fusion tip and imagines a world with Korean taco trucks.
What kind of world would that be? A better world. A better tomorrow.
Excuse me as I go into hyperbole mode, but this is THE BEST FREAKING FOOD INVENTION SINCE MSG.
For some reason, this tickles my fancy as very few things can. The ultimate in fusiony goodness — IMO the justification for the interracial relationships.
Mark this day on your calendar…the birth of the Korean taco.
The City of Boston collectively freaks the fuck out. Take a valium. Think happy thoughts. Marshmallows. Rainbows. Unicorns.
UPDATE: more from the AP.
Outside, they met reporters and television cameras and launched into a nonsensical discussion of hair styles of the 1970s. “What we really want to talk about today — it’s kind of important to some people — it’s haircuts of the 1970s,” Berdovsky said.
UPDATE II: Video of deliciously good agit-prop here.
Paraphrase: “Media…you are so lame.”
Dear god I love ribs. I am in love with the spare rib, for certain, but lately I’ve been cheating and having a torrid affair with its slim, high-rent cousin, the baby back rib. Sure, it’s less meat, but they tend to be easier to cook (and take a lot less time), but on average you’re also spending $3-5 dollars more per pound. Something to consider.
Now, a lot of BBQ purists and snobs and know-it-alls (and everywhere you turn, there’s some guy who claims to be the authority on BBQ) will scoff at sauce. You know what? I like a saucey rib. For one, I like condiments, and a rib sauce is like the ultimate opportunity to indulge your condiment fetish (a good thing if you’re — like me — the Marquis de Sade of condiments). Almost anything can be added, in sparing amounts, to a rib sauce. Why not seize the opportunity to put your shit to good use?
And sauce tastes good. Mind you, I dry rub my ribs too. I suspect they would taste pretty good without a saucing, if you went the extra steps and took special care in cooking and smoking your rib. But licking your fingers after every rib, wiping excess from your cheek (yes, that is uncomfortably pornographic), well, why would I deprive myself of such an experience for the sake of somebody else’s idea of authenticity?
And screw those BBQ snobs. America has been around, what, a couple hundred years? These guys act like they invented the fucking pig. The delicious swine (and cow, and lamb, and goat, and anything with blood) has been quartered and grilled and smoked for thousands of years. The rest of the meat-eating world didn’t suddenly wake up and take notice the moment some solipsistic asshat in St. Louis or Kansas City or Austin or Memphis or Carolina proclaimed himself King Shit of Fuck Mountain.
Rib rub
Use any/all of these, in any amounts you’d prefer. Experiment and find your spice rub g-spot, if you will. Feel free to add to this list — it’s not exhaustive by any means. Ground coffee or espresso? Onward, brave soldier.
- Garlic powder
- Onion powder
- Ground coriander
- Ground cumin
- Paprika
- Salt
- Pepper
- Celery salt
- Mustard powder
- Chili powder (New Mexico, pasilla, de arbol)
- Fennel
- Ground cloves
- 5 spice powder
- Extract of wort and/or wormwood
- Macerated erosberries
- Ground farrah root
- Essence of taint
Soak your ribs in a cold water brine of equal parts kosher salt and brown sugar for an hour. Some people add apple juice. Those people are my heroes. But my daughter drinks the apple juice in our house, so if I poured half her shit into a brine just to throw away it would be like her using my smoked hungarian paprika as a pigment base for her water coloring. Have some respect and empathy, people. Pat the ribs dry, and coat both sides with your most excellent rub. Prep your grill by building up your coals on one side, and proceed to BBQ on the cool side with the cover on, for about 2 hours, turning as you feel the need (usually every other beer or so – just make sure you aren’t drinking Hair of the Dog’s Fred are your ass will be kicked). For the last 15 minutes, I like to remove the ribs, remove the cover, and bring the heat/fire back up. Coat the ribs with your sauce and then return the ribs back to the grill to finish.
Let them cool for a bit (if you can resist the urge to gnaw the entire rack down to bone nubs). Slice and enjoy.
Der rib sauce
Like I previously stated, anything can go in a rib sauce pretty much. This is shit I had in my fridge and pantry, and the measurements are approximate. In reality, I just dumped shit in the pan. Remember, most anything will be work if you match the sweet and savory and acidic. Though I would probably steer clear of marshmallows, cod liver oil, and crystal meth.
- 1 tblsp maple syrup
- 7 dashes worcestshire
- 2 tblsp CJ brand hot and spicy Korean BBQ sauce
- 1 tblsp apple cider vinegar
- 4 tblsp ketchup
- 1 teaspoon hoisin
- 1 teaspoon korean fermented black bean paste
- 2 tablespoons apple juice
- 1 teaspoon Buffalo chipotle sauce
- 1 tablespoon apricot preserves
- 3 tblsp water
- 1 tablespoon Hennesey VSOP cognac
- 1 teaspoon oyster sauce
- 1 teaspoon Lee Kum Kee Vegetarian Mushroom Stir Fry Sauce
- 1/4 cup Stella Artois beer (I happened to be drinking this at the time. Use a lager or whatever you want. It’s your life.)
Combine all this shit in a saucepan and simmer over low heat for an hour and a half (preferably while the ribs are cooking or you’re the worst multi-tasker in the world).
Want lies with your burger?. The befuddled history of the origins of the hamburger. For this author, White Castle gets the nod?
This entry is a contestant for The Carnivore Project’s ongoing Meat Bracket, which aims to crown a lucky meatstuff “THE ULTIMATE MEAT”. Click here to vote.
First of all, I hear you. What you’re saying. How can tofu be THE ULTIMATE MEAT? It isn’t even a meat, in the conventional sense, in that it doesn’t come from, you know, an animal. Doesn’t something have to die before it can be considered meat? Tofu is made from a soybean! Understand? “Bean”? A vegetable?!? And, holy tits of santa, the soybean is green! A fucking green plant…considered meat…THE ULTIMATE MEAT? It’s a logical fallacy at its core, much like debating if the McRib sandwich is the ULTIMATE rib, or if Gwen Stefani is the ULTIMATE music artist (when it’s clear she is neither an artist nor what she actually barfs up can be considered music).
Like I said, I hear you. But I’m going to tell you why tofu is not only THE ULTIMATE MEAT, it’s THE ULTIMATE OF ANYTHING TO INFINITY.
Why?
This entry is a contestant for The Carnivore Project’s ongoing Meat Bracket, which aims to crown a lucky meatstuff “THE ULTIMATE MEAT”. Click here to vote.
Conventional wisdom demands that Buffalo Wings were first invented at the Anchor Bar in Buffalo, New York. This is a benign story that neatly fits into an epistemologically narrow worldview, but like most racistly simplistic yarns, it relies on half-truths, innuendo, and overt generalizations.
The true story, rather, springs to life some 95 miles east/southeast of Buffalo, in the town of Canandaigua, a sleepy little fishing village that anchors a lake by the same name in upstate New York’s Finger Lakes region (also affectionately known as “America’s Gall Bladder”).
Via Adam at A Hamburger Today, I see that a few idiotards at my alma matter are dissing the very possibility of an In-n-Out on campus.
First the Basketcats lose 4 of 5, and now we have to suffer these fools.
Though In-N-Out Burger is one of many popular burger restaurants, it is far from some students’ thoughts.
“I think SONIC should be there, or Burger King,” said James Roberts, a molecular and cellular biology sophomore. “Any place that serves better fries.”
Other students would like to see a place with a variety of food choices and healthier options.
“Wendy’s is a lot healthier, and you can have a salad instead of fries,” said Melissa Revelle, a physics and astronomy junior. “SONIC is also better because it has a better variety and quality.”
Other students are not as concerned about who fills in the space, but would like to see a restaurant that can handle the student traffic in the union.
“I’m not too sad to see it go,” said Adam Dietrich, a math and computer science sophomore. “As long as they have a line of tills (registers), I’m OK.”
They should all be flunked and forced to go to NAU.
Thomas Keller admits he uses Sysco fries at Bouchon. Is the mango ketchup really just Jufran banana?
This entry is a contestant for The Carnivore Project’s ongoing Meat Bracket, which aims to crown a lucky meatstuff “THE ULTIMATE MEAT”. Click here to vote.
Shrimp, aka prawns. And, to a lesser extent, krill. Using the term “shrimp” and “prawn” interchangeably is a bit of a misnomer, as prawns are actually distinguished from the shrimp by the nature of their gills. But in common parlance the term “prawn” is commonly used to refer to the larger, yoked up specimen, i.e. the Barry Bonds of shrimp. And it’s important to note the prawn has a regular plural form, whereas shrimp can refer to one lonesome crustacean or a bevy (a flock? a murder?) of the little critters, putting them on the same solid linguistic footing as sheep and moose. That has to count for something.
And so does the fact that Red Lobster holds a yearly “Shrimpfest”, even though shrimp isn’t even in their name! You would presume they simply exist to serve their mighty overlord — the haughty and disdainful lobster, yet they see fit to celebrate the wonder and grandeur that is the shrimp with a wild celebration each year. You don’t see Red Lobster doing this for anything else. There’s no “Quailfest” or even a “Sea Urchin Roe Box Social.” People flock from miles away to Red Lobster each year to pay homage to the shrimp, downing dozens of shrimp that have been fried, sauteed, steamed (but mostly fried) in an all-you-can eat bacchanalian orgy of pink ecstasy.
This entry is a contestant for The Carnivore Project’s ongoing Meat Bracket, which aims to crown a lucky meatstuff “THE ULTIMATE MEAT”.
Lips and assholes.
That’s a common misconception when it comes to evaluating what’s in a hot dog. Or is it? My buddy Jimbo’s father worked at a Hormel plant in his formidable years, and he claimed Spam was the top flight mystery meat outfit coming out of Hormel’s Austin, Minnesota factory. Hot dogs, he claimed, well…watch out.
So how do you defend something that doesn’t even measure up to fucking spiced ham in a can, much less make a cogent argument that it deserves to be crowned THE ULTIMATE MEAT?
What I made the family and in-laws Christmas evening. The in-laws are very picky eaters, so we tend to go very simple. I am posting this belatedly most so I can chronicle for posterity; next year, I’ll look back and tell myself to try something different.
Herb crusted Steelhead salmon fillets with lemon and caper buerre blanc. As I mentioned, everyone’s a bit picky, but they do like capers, so I went nuts with them. I need to go to Costco to replenish.
I used herbs from my garden — rosemary, marjoram, oregano, mint, chives — that were still alive. I also used a bit of ground coriander, salt, pepper, lemon zest, and just a smidgeon of smoked paprika. Seared in olive oil to get a nice crust, flipped and roasted in the oven while I made the sauce.
Roasted potatoes.
The potatoes were seasoned liberally with kosher salt and smoked paprika (and a pinch of chopped rosemary and chive) and tossed in melted butter before roasting
Pureed parsnip and carrot gratin.
Roasted carrots glazed with just a touch of honey and rice wine vinegar.
Creamed spinach with a hint of garlic and nutmeg. Topped with fried shallots.
Perfunctory mesclun salad with shallot and dijon vinagrette.
My little Christmas angel had fun rolling around into the discarded wrapping paper.
Has anyone ever connected to MetroFi downtown, or close-in?
Everytime I’m on a bus or on the Max or on a sidewalk, and try to connect, it spins for 30 seconds and I get an error message simply telling me I can’t connect. Goddamn mutherfucker.
Quotes of the Morning: Homer J for the Rebuttal (again).
Homer Simpson channels our Leader. Via the talented and snarkilicious TBogg.
This is your chance to have a taqueria experience in the comfort of your own home. After all this trouble, you might realize that perhaps it’s much easier to walk to the nearest taco truck or taqueria and throw down a five spot. That may be true. But give a man a taco, and he eats that day. Teach a man to taco, and he eats until his colon ruptures.
First of all, we start with the duality that is red and green taqueria table sauces. These two colors help make the Mexican flag. I guess if you wanted to complete the flag you could add crema or *gasp* sour cream to your taqueria tacos, but I will personally hunt you down and torture you by slicing off your eyelids and staking you to a pole in a sandstorm.
The first sauce I co-opted from a recipe that was shared on Chow.
Taqueria Table Sauce
- 5 medium roma tomatoes, cored and halved
- 10 dried chile de arbol
- 2 dried chile negro (dried pasilla)
- 2 tablespoon dried pasilla powder
- 1 3/4 cups water
- 1 tablespoon kosher salt
- 1 teaspoon sugar
- 2 cloves garlic, peeled
- 1 tablespoon roasted salted pepitas
- 1 tablespoon roasted salted sunflower seeds
- Juice of one lime or juice of two key limes
- 1/3 bunch of cilantro
Place the tomatoes, skin side up, under heated broiler on top rack and broil until the skins start to blacken and shrivel.
Remove and add to saucepan. Break off stems from dried chilies, and shake out most of the seeds. If you want, get into the larger dried pasillas and remove some of the pith. No biggie. Add to saucepan, along with dried pasilla powder, salt, sugar, garlic, and water. Bring to boil and simmer over low for 20 minutes.
Pour into blender, add seeds, lime juices, cilantro, and puree incrementally using all those unneccesary escalating power settings on your blender (“These go 11”). My blender actually has 12 settings, though the initial level, “Fast Clean” I don’t think actually qualifies, but I make sure to utilize it because I feel like I’m being wasteful if I don’t. Oh yeah, stop when you have a nice, liquid consistency. There’s often a setting on blenders called “liquefy”. I suggest you escalate to this level. Maybe not at first, though — build up to it with some blender foreplay.
Tomatillo-Avocado Sauce
You could use fresh hulled, roasted tomatillos for this recipe, but I find that a canned Mexican brand of pre-made salsa verde works quite excellently. But if you want to use fresh tomatillos, by all means do, but nobody is going to give you a prize or anything.
- 2 7 oz cans Embasa Brand Salsa Verde (warning, link to THE BEST WEBSITE EVER)
- 1 Haas Avocado (who is this guy “Haas”? Did he invent the avocado?)
- 3 tablespoons water
- 1 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1/3 bunch cilantro
- 1 clove garlic, peeled
- 3 dashes El Yucateco Chile Habenero XXXTRA (that’s 3 x’s for those keeping score at home) Hot Sauce
Put everything in a blender. Pulse and tease the salsa using the aforementioned blender foreplay, until a smooth, even consistency is reached.
Now for the carne asada.
Seek out a carniceria in your neighborhood — you’ll be happier to have found one, if only for the fact that the most popular brand of bread in Mexico is called “Bimbo”. They usually sell flap meat/steak, often even pre-marinated/seasoned for your pleasure. You can also find this cut at Winco foods. It is usually sliced in thin, broad sheets.
You say there’s no carcineria in your ‘hood? I find that hard to believe. Haven’t you been listening to right wing talk radio? If you had been, you’d realize the Mexicans are taking over ‘Murica and will soon reclaim the entire southwest as the Republic of Aztlan via “El Reconquista”. Tom Tancredo and Michelle Malkin said so! Beware the brown! Except for today, the day we make carne asada tacos. ¡Viva México!
General Zapata’s Carne Asada
- Bunch o’ slices of flap meat, like over a pound or so
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
- 2 tablespoons cider vinegar
- 5 garlic cloves, shoved through a garlic press
- 1 teaspoon chile de arbol powder
- 1 teaspoon paprika
- 1 teaspoon onion powder
- 1 tablespoon dried oregano
- Kosher salt
Combine the meat and spices and salt everything to suit your tastes. Marinade for at least a couple hours. Grill over hot coals, few minutes per side, for a nice all around char. Chop up the carne into little bite size pieces, though only what you plan to eat right then and there.
I actually prefer to keep the flap steaks intact, refrigerate, and then for subsequent taco meals chop and reheat on a hot griddle. The meat will transform into perfect little crispy carnuggets. Spoon the carne asada onto doubled, warmed corn tortillas. I guess you could use flour tortillas — I suppose — but you’ll lose all my respect and in fact earn my resentment for some time to come. Garnish with diced white onions and cilantro.
Oh yeah, and the table salsas.
For added effect put the salsas in plastic squeeze bottles. Squirt the sauces onto your tacos ONLY WHEN YOU’VE BROUGHT THE TACOS TO THE TABLE. I personally don’t even get that far. I eat my tacos standing up, at my kitchen counter, and pretend like I’m at a taco stand in the streets of Tijuana, drunk off tourist tequila and pissed because I’ve foolishly bet all my money on worthless football trifectas.
I like the fowl.
One of the all time faves, for simplicity and comfort, is the whole roasted bird. This bird I’ve done on the grill, back in the day when I used to have a dual burner gas grill. I only lit one side and would alternately move the bird back and forth between lit and unlit halves of the grill, keeping the lid down at all times. An imperfect science, and a method by which I’ve ruined a few morsels. Then I sold the damn grill (and forsaked gas altogether) just when I perfected the method.
You can obviously use the same method with a large Weber kettle grill — which I do. Just build the fire on one half, and maybe employ the use of a drip pan so the delicious fat doesn’t spatter and cause flareups and burn the skin.
Usually I would suggest you tie up the bird with some butcher twine, but goddamnit I was feeling lazy, and plus, I kinda like the way the legs start to kick out when the chicken becomes done. I’ve been known to pull off a leg or two and mack it right there on the spot.
5-spice grilled whole chicken
- A chicken
- 4 tablespoons Chinese 5-spice powder
- 1 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1/2 tablespoon of: water, fish sauce, rice wine
- 1 teaspoon kosher salt
Combine the wet ingredients with the dry.
Mix so it becomes a paste.
Rub all over the bird (including cavity and under the skin if you’d like) and let it stand for at least a few hours.
Fire up your grill, and grill for an hour or so using the method described earlier. You might want to employ a meat thermometer if you like to do things right. I tend to wing it, much to the detriment of many of my results.
But this time it turned out well! This bird pairs nicely with steamed jasmine rice.
Tater tots and bacon. 11pm. What am I doing? I’ve got a kid, goddamnit, I can’t live this way.
The first step is to admit there is a problem.
Today I biked over to Los Tres Hermanos taco truck for a quick snack, but, alas, it was closed. I’m not sure if they close during the rainy season or if they are on vacation or what. It is very distressing.
To placate my anxiety and to sate my hankering for a snack, I locked my cruiser across the street in front of Di Prima Dolci. Di Prima is a charming bakery that sells a variety of breads and sandwiches. It’s a cute little place, with about a dozen tables and a row of window seating.
This Saturday they were featuring Sicilian style pizza. I spied fresh, large square pizzas coming fresh out of the oven as I moseyed on up to the counter. I also saw a fresh slice going out (with a nice looking side salad) to a table who had recently placed on order. The owner was working the register, and she told me that the Sicilian pizza will be available Saturdays from here on at $3 a slice (they do Neopolitan style on Thursday/Fridays), and I was mighty tempted.
However, I was in the mood for a sandwich, and the “Di Papa Hero” was the special of the day. It featured cappacolla, soppressata, genoa salami, ham, roasted peppers, olive oil and vinegar — sounded right up my alley. However the $8.75 price gave me pause. I asked if they did a small version of the special (their normal sandwiches come in small/regular size options), but unfortunately this was not the case. As you recall earlier, I told you I only wanted a snack, and seeing as I had a grocery bag with a six pack of french loaves hanging from my handlebars that were soon to become the foundation for ultra delicious banh mi later in the day, I was worried about sandwich overload.
But I decided to throw caution to the wind. You only live once, right? This is a new year, one in which I can take chances and shelve the vicariously living. I’m going to run with scissors this year, swim after eating, and eat as much trans fats and MSG as possible. So fuck it, bring on the overstuffed Italian sandwich just hours before an overstuffed Vietnamese sandwich! I laugh in the face of sandwich burnout. I mock and tease and goad my own appetite — buckle up, you fucking nancy boy.
Anyhow, I sat down and waited for my sandwich to arrive. It did.
And.
Huh.
Ok.
It was served on their football shaped bread, one that resembled a bolillo, with a disproportionate vertical height. And this was not overstuffed. It tasted fine, delicious even, but was pretty low on the meat. And it wasn’t until I was half the way through the thing that I realized I had been royally gyped — no sopresseta or salami! For a near nine dollar sandwich, I was expecting something as engorged as a foie goose’s liver, instead I received a sandwich that had about an 9-to-1 bread-to-meat ratio. Add the dollar I added as a tip (don’t call me a cheapskate – it’s counter service — so STFU and get me a drink), and that’s a $10 sandwich. I examined my ass in the mirror when I got home, and while I didn’t see any major tears, there was redness and swelling and my taint was slightly bruised.
The sandwich was served with a fagioli salad, which is basically greens dressed with legumes, including chickpeas and kidneys.
Will I be back? Yeah. To try the regular sandwich ($7.50) to see if the portion is par for course. I will try the pizza next week. I will also try the sausage bread, which I’ve heard good things about. I’ll also buy some bread here. And I’ll come back for breakfast, as they have that fun item where they hollow out a slice of crusty bread and fry an egg inside. Did I mention I like this place? The owner is a sweetheart, and from what I understand does much for the community through her altruism.
I just wish there had been some foreplay before being bent over.
Di Prima Dolci Italian Bakery
1936 N Killingsworth St
(503) 283-5936
El Burrito Loco, which is Spanish for “The Crazy Burrito”, is not the name of a Mexican wrestler, but rather a non-descript taqueria on North Portland Blvd. There are two other locations in Portland, but I haven’t been. I’m not even going to tell you where they are. There.
As the name suggests, this place is evidently proud of its burritos that may or may not have full control over their mental faculties. I’ve even sampled one in the past (carne asada), but I prefer tacos over burritos, and this is taco survey, not a burrito survey. I won’t speak of burritos again.
There are some endearing traits here. The napkin dispenser is on a roll — much like toilet paper — and you have to tear off your napkins, like you would a square to wipe your ass. In addition to featuring squeeze bottle table sauces a la your prototypical taqueria, they also provide Heinz “taco” sauce in small, self-serve, aluminum packets, like as if they wanted to outlame Del Taco’s “Del Scorcher” or Taco Bell’s “Fire” or your average junior high school cafeteria, really. They also feature hard shell tacos at El Burrito Loco, which sets it apart from most taquerias and from most Mexicans, for that matter.
Best of all, in the adjacent dining room from the counter, you can drop some coins into this classic “Michael Jackson’s Moonwalker” video game.
After throwing down some tacos, it’s always a best practice to bust a moonwalk and fuck up some perps.
On to the tacos.
The taco triumvirate. Each taco runs $1.35 apiece. The table sauces (green and red) are serviceable. The green is actually kinda red, and is not your typical verde in that it packs a punch — wielding a few Scoville units — and the red is sauce made mostly from reconstituted dried chilis. Since El Burrito Loco does not have pastor, I subbed their namesake taco.
This is the “loco” taco. It features shredded beef that’s been simmered in a red chili sauce. It is garnished simply with onions and cilantro. The meat is sort of the pulled variety, and compares favorably I suppose to the “barbacoa” you’d get at the Chipotle chain.
For the most part, I would say I like this. The meat can be flavorful, and the texture can be quite nice. But other times it has been alternately too dry or too mushy, and the portion ample, and some times not so much. If they could consistently get “loco”, then I could recommend it without reservations.
The asada tacos at El Burrito Loco are probably your best bet. They are generally quite ample, and come dressed with a decent guacamole (and not the weird guacamayo that King Burrito slops on their tacos) and with a nice salsa fresca. The meat is often grilled nicely and full of beefy asada goodness, but on occasions it can tend towards overly greasy.
The carnitas. This isn’t real carnitas, it is simply sliced cubes(!) of pork that have been thrown into a deep fryer. For that alone it deserves six whacks on the wrist and a dozen Hail Mary’s. We will not speak of it again.
El Burrito Loco
1942 N Portland Blvd
Portland, OR 97217
(503) 735-9505
Houston Chronicle tries to make Texas gay.
Nice article on tofu and origins, including recipes that include soy milk pots de creme (so gay). Even a founding father was bi-curious.
Benjamin Franklin, who was briefly a vegetarian, mentioned “Tau fu” in a letter in 1770, writing in part of “the universal use of a cheese made of (soybeans) in China, which so excited my curiousity . . .”
Speaking of the gayfu spectre, the dude who started it all keeps going. I’m eagerly waiting for part three, which was promised almost a week ago. Let’s hope a WorldNetDaily editor hasn’t come to his senses (which, lucky for us, is unlikely).
When Bad Things Come From ‘Good’ Food.
Lately, though, produce has caused a disturbing number of disease outbreaks; just since September, bacteria-tainted tomatoes, spinach and lettuce have made hundreds of people sick, and killed three. There have been 20 serious outbreaks in the past decade or so, and many have come from crops grown in California, not from imports. Fruit juices, alfalfa sprouts and almonds have also been involved — all of them supposedly health foods, like salad, the things we feel most virtuous about eating.
The known outbreaks are just the tip of the iceberg, health officials say; far more illness is never reported. Most people don’t call the health department about a few days of gut trouble. The government estimates that over all, food-borne microbes — not just the ones on produce — make 76 million people a year sick, put 325,000 in the hospital and kill 5,000.
America: an advanced, first world country, purported leader of the free world, where eating your vegetables CAN KILL YOU.
Heckuva job, FreeMarkie!
“There may be some self-regulation from the industry, the growers themselves,” he said. “They have to do something themselves, or else they’re going to lose their market.”
Yes. The market will decide! California energy, Enrononomics and freedom for everyone! George Will says the minimum wage should be zero, and, you know? He’s right!
Awesome photo on Flikr via this geotagged page.
Roasted brussel sprouts slathered in butter, with Trader Joes breaded cod filets. Not sure why I would call this a meal, but I did.
Where “Check Please” is Your Call.
At a new breed of “Robin Hood” restaurants, diners pay what they can afford — and what they think the meal is worth
…
These pay-as-you-can cafes have missions that are unapologetically altruistic—call it serving up fare Robin Hood style. “Our philosophy is that everyone, regardless of economic status, deserves the chance to eat healthy, organic food while being treated with dignity,” explains Brad Birky, who opened SAME with his wife, Libby, in October. Customers who have no money are encouraged to exchange an hour of service — sweep, wash the dishes, weed the organic garden — for a meal. Likewise, guests who have money are encouraged to leave a little extra to offset the meals of those who have less to give.
Sounds very utopian, eh? But all it takes is a few assholes to ruin everything. And if there’s one thing you can count on, it’s that people will be assholes.
If my food sucks, can I ask that you give me money?
Evangelical broadcaster Pat Robertson said Tuesday that God has told him that a terrorist attack on the United States would cause a “mass killing” late in 2007.
“I’m not necessarily saying it’s going to be nuclear,” he said during his news-and-talk television show “The 700 Club” on the Christian Broadcasting Network.
“The Lord didn’t say nuclear. But I do believe it will be something like that.”
Robertson said God told him about the impending tragedy during a recent prayer retreat.
…
“I have a relatively good track record,” he said. “Sometimes I miss.”
Well, wouldn’t that be God misleads you? And couldn’t he provide some more details about this “mass killing” so CNN and Fox News can at least mobilize a cadre of blow-dried sycophants to fawn over the horror?
What a dick. Maybe if God wasn’t such a monumental prick to you, Pat Robertson, you’d have more amusement parks with Immaculate Conception theme rides where Jesus-shaped roller coasters emerge from the miraculously fecund vagina of the Virgin Mary.
2007 Fiesta Bowl.
I thought nothing could top last year’s Rose Bowl. I was wrong.
Final: Boise State – 43, Oklahoma – 42.
Speaking of football. A Carnivore’s Guide to the NFL Playoffs. The Carnivore Project breaks down the NFL playoffs, with a meat theme. Go Chargers!
What the fuck is this?
My mom picked some of these up at FuBonn last month during her visit. She claimed she ate them as a child in her village in Southern Vietnam. Rest assured, I promise you my mother is a proper Buddhist, and — to the best of my knowledge — does not own any Slayer, Morbid Angel, or Napalm Death albums.
As you can see, they are quite nefarious in appearance, as if somebody commissioned H.R. Giger to reimagine the chestnut. I suppose this is the kind of snack Damien the Omen eats while watching Spongebob Satanpants and channeling Lucifer’s minions to serve the dark lord’s whimsy. When my sister-in-law saw a picture of these in my iPhoto library, she exclaimed that she couldn’t believe I would harbor such evil with a two-year old daughter living under my roof.
My mom stuck them in a saucepan and boiled these “Dante’s nuggets” for about 5 minutes. Once they were cooled, I tried to improve upon her method of simply cutting them in half with my new Global knife (and dulling the blade), and digging out the “meat” with a fork. I instead used a crab claw cracker, but it basically just spewed devil shards all over my kitchen counter.
The flavor of the “flesh” is similar to a chestnut. Pure, white, evil, devilishly spawned, demonic, underworldish chestnuts. I wouldn’t go through the trouble of extracting the meat from a few dozen of these to, say, augment a turkey dressing. But if I ever found myself in Satan’s foyer, waiting for my entrance exam, I’d suck on a few out of respect.
R.I.P. James Brown. Faster, soul master.…memories of PWEI’s monumental ode.
Has anyone seen Rocky VI? Please let me know how it turns out, spoilers be damned.
I just want to know if it’s worth my time. From what I’ve seen via previews, Rocky kicks some ass.
I’m all for a willing suspension of disbelief, but if I find out that Antonio Tarver loses to a sexagenarian 5’5“ Italian man, then, shoot, I might as well stay home and masturbate to the belief that I will somehow have sex with Annette Bening in her prime.
This is one of my favorite Asian greens. As you can tell by the label, FuBonn classifies it as “Mong Toi”, though other cultures would most likely have other names for it.
Mong Toi has broad leaves with thin stems that feed into a thick, central stem. Steam or sauteed, the stem and greens become very tender. I would say it’s a nice cross between spinach and Chinese broccoli.
Like spinach or Chinese brocolli, it pairs extremely well when steamed or sauteed (or both) with garlic and seasoned with a thick, dark Asian sauce. That’s exactly what I did in this instance. After cutting off the very 1/4 inch stub ends of the greens and rinsing them, heat up a large wok and briefly sautee a couple minced cloves of garlic in a tablespoon of peanut or vegetable oil.
Add the greens, and sautee, until they start to become slightly wilted.
Drizzle with a Lee Kum Kee sauce, such as oyster, “vegetarian stir fry”, hoisin, or a Korean fermented soybean paste (I use “Wang” brand). It just so happens that I keep a squirt bottle on handle with equal parts of ALL THE ABOVE for instances just like this. Imagine the fortuitous serendipity, if you can.
Finally, hit with some cracked pepper and a squirt of sesame oil and enjoy.
This is a Vietnamese dish my mother bestowed upon me. I’m sure it has a proper Vietnamese taxonomy consisting of 3 or 4 (or more) constructors, but I call it Coco-Rico Pork due to the soda that helps fill out the braising liquid.
During a recent visit to 82nd Avenue, I picked up over a pound of freshly roasted pig at Good Taste. Good Taste sells sections of whole roasted pig for $7.95/lb, on the bone, complete with crackling. I think the portion I used was from the lower back? Hard to say, as, while I’m generally quite saavy in playing “Know Your Cuts of Meat” on Late Night with David Letterman, I’m definitely not an expert of the flesh. I don’t think it was shoulder (butt), as it was leaner. Maybe picnic shoulder? Leg? Did I cover every part of the pig yet?
The butcher at Good Taste will ask if you’d like the portion cut down into manageable pieces, but in this case we chopped it ourselves, bone and all. The key in this dish is to use the crackling, it helps lend an unctuous richness to the dish. This is like a fat bomb, oh yeah, and I would compare the texture to that of really good carnitas. When you plate it all atop steaming hot jasmine rice, there is that serendipitous moment when you fork in a bite that simultaneously combines shreds of the pork, a sliver of braised pig skin, a firm section of egg white and a crumble of yolk — all married together with the braising juice — that really allows one to experience a true Calgon moment.
Coco-Rico Braised Pork
- 1 1/2 pound of whole Chinese-style roast pig, cut into 2 inch (or so) chunks, bone and skin intact
- 7 eggs
- 2 tablespoon sugar
- 2 tablespoon waters
- 3 cloves minced garlic
- Half white onion, sliced
- Small knob ginger, peeled and sliced into sheets and fine julienne
- 2 chopped green onions
- Juice of one fresh coconut (not coconut milk)
- 1 can Coco Rico soda (available at Fubonn/Vietnamese markets)
- Ground pepper (tablespoon? you tell me)
- Fish sauce
First, soft the boil eggs — place in a saucepan, cover with cold water, and cover. Bring to a boil and remove from heat, and let stand for 6 minutes (or so). Shock in ice bath and peel, taking care not to tear the egg whites.
In a large saucepan, over medium heat, add sugar, stir for a few seconds, and then add water and stir for a minute or so to create a caramel of sorts. Add garlic, onion, ginger and green onions, stir “fry” for a minute or two, and then pork, coconut juice, and soda.
For those who aren’t familiar with Coco Rico soda, here’s a photo. As you can probably guess from the nomenclature, it’s a sickly sweet coconut flavored soda popular with…who knows. I guess people drink this piss – I can’t stand it, but it really works here. Bring the concoction up to a low boil, and reduce to low and simmer for 30 minutes, covered.
After 30 minutes, add the eggs and ground pepper. Be careful not to break the flesh of the eggs — you want them to remain intact and pick up a nice brown sheen from the braising liquid.
Continue to simmer 2 hours, covered, on low. Stir in fish sauce to taste.
Here’s a close up shot.
And an example of the texture of the pork. Very much like carnitas. Rich, sweet and savory.
Boss Hog (Rolling Stone). “Pork’s Dirty Secret: The nation’s top hog producer is also one of America’s worst polluters”.
Smithfield Foods, the largest and most profitable pork processor in the world, killed 27 million hogs last year. That’s a number worth considering. A slaughter-weight hog is fifty percent heavier than a person. The logistical challenge of processing that many pigs each year is roughly equivalent to butchering and boxing the entire human populations of New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, Houston, Philadelphia, Phoenix, San Antonio, San Diego, Dallas, San Jose, Detroit, Indianapolis, Jacksonville, San Francisco, Columbus, Austin, Memphis, Baltimore, Fort Worth, Charlotte, El Paso, Milwaukee, Seattle, Boston, Denver, Louisville, Washington, D.C., Nashville, Las Vegas, Portland, Oklahoma City and Tucson.
Real carnitas isn’t terribly difficult, I suspect. I’ve never actually made it, but it involves large sections of pig that braises in its own fat, much like duck confit. The pork is spiced with fruit juice and spices, and the result is a rich, sinful pulled pork that is worthy of canonization in the Church of the Sacred Meatstuffs.
This version is quick and easy, foregoing the time-consumption normally associated with authentic carnitas. In fact, this is simply braised pork, not worthy of carnitas status, thus I call it “ghetto” lest it suffer from delusions of grandeur.
Ghetto Carnitas
- 2 pounds of pork shoulder, cut into two-inch chunks
- Orange juice
- Water
- Broth (chicken, beef, unicorn – whatever you’ve got)
- 2 bay leaves
- 1 cinnamon stick, broken in half
- 1/2 teaspoon ground coriander
- 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
- 1 tablespoon ancho chili powder
- 1 tablespoon chile de arbol powder
- 1 tablespoon some other chili powder (New Mexico, etc. – the idea here is to add 3 tablespoons of various chili powders)
- 1 tablespoon garlic powder
- 1/2 white onion, diced
- 3 cloves garlic, pushed through a press or minced very fine
- Salt to taste
Preheat over to 275 degrees.
Put pork in a dutch oven – I’ve found my cast iron Lodge works extremely well. Cover with equal parts of each liquid component to cover the pork by just over a half inch. Add the remaining ingredients. Stir and bring to a low simmer, cover, and transfer to oven. Braise 2 1/2 to 3 hours, stirring lightly every 45 minutes or so.
Let cool, then transfer to a platter with a slotted spoon. Press pork gently with the tines of a back of a fork to “shred” — the meat should naturally start to fall apart.
Heat up corn tortillas on a griddle, double them up and scoop the braised pork on top. Top with chopped onions, cilantro, and your favorite homemade or jarred Mexican table hot sauce.
A devil food is turning our kids into homosexuals.
Jim Rutz, writing over at the esteemed WorldNetDaily, says soy is making our kids teh gay. Seriously. You can’t make this shit up.
Soy is feminizing, and commonly leads to a decrease in the size of the penis, sexual confusion and homosexuality. That’s why most of the medical (not socio-spiritual) blame for today’s rise in homosexuality must fall upon the rise in soy formula and other soy products. (Most babies are bottle-fed during some part of their infancy, and one-fourth of them are getting soy milk!) Homosexuals often argue that their homosexuality is inborn because “I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t homosexual.” No, homosexuality is always deviant. But now many of them can truthfully say that they can’t remember a time when excess estrogen wasn’t influencing them.
Ok, buddy, what about lesbians? By your logic, shouldn’t they be on a silken tofu IV drip?
P.S.: Soy sauce is fine. Unlike soy milk, it’s perfectly safe because it’s fermented, which changes its molecular structure. Miso, natto and tempeh are also OK, but avoid tofu.
Thank you for clearing that up, Dr. Hetero McVirilePants. Now that you mention it, after eating a bowl of boiled edamame the last time I went out for sushi, I had an overwhelming urge to Tivo “The View” and buy a Dodge Neon.
No wonder they ride so many bicycles in China — it’s a nation of limp-wristed, soy-munching homos. If they’d only nix the tofu they could use proper masculine transportation like stallions and Hummers.
If MSG is so bad for you, why doesn’t everyone in Asia have a headache?
Good question. Not since the false demonization of the tomato as a poisonous cousin of the deadly nightshade has another ingredient usurped such mythical and misbegotten ill repute.
What does chiefly animate Japanese soups and broths is an amino acid called glutamate. In the best ramen shops it’s made naturally from boiling dried kombu seaweed; it can also come from dried shrimp or bonito flakes, or from fermented soy. More cheaply and easily, you get it from a tin, where it is stabilised with ordinary salt and is thus monosodium glutamate.
This last fact is of little interest to the Japanese – like most Asians, they have no fear of MSG. And there lies one of the world’s great food scare conundrums. If MSG is bad for you – as Jeffrey Steingarten, the great American Vogue food writer once put it – why doesn’t everyone in China have a headache?
I liken this to the Reefer Madness scare of the 20th century. MSG has been demonized from the bully pulpit, scandalized by a generation of shucksters perpetuating false truths and slanderous lies. Armchair chemists and erstwhile nutritionists, burnishing speciously gained junk science, falsely projected their own hypochondriac ill-conceptions upon a gullible population so quick to scapegoat any perceived threat to their imagined, self-absorbed pollyanna-ish reality. Stop the madness, I say. Back off that ledge, come back from the brink of insanity, embrace the M to S to the G. MSG!
It is your obligation, no, your mission, dear reader, to walk into any Asian restaurant who proudly proclaims “No MSG!” and tell them to cease with the lies. Demand that they exhibit the moral conviction to make a stand, to end the illusion. There’s no impropriety; alas, no reason for shame. We need not adorn this scarlet letter. Wear it proud, and wear it loud.
Everything has MSG. MSG is everywhere. MSG is taste. MSG is living. MSG is life. Long live MSG.
Has Politics Contaminated the Food Supply? Schlosser on food contamination and politics.
King Burrito, located on the south side of Lombard in North Portland (west of Greeley, just east of Peninsular), is a prototypical taqueria that has gained a following for serving massive burritos. Seriously, a burrito from this place probably packs enough heft and calories to feed a sub-Saharan household for a week or to sedate a large bear for a season’s hibernation.
But this is a taco survey, not a burrito survey. I won’t talk about burritos any more.
When I first moved to North Portland, I was pleasantly surprised that the tacos from King Burrito simply weren’t awful. Now that I’ve discovered other taco joints in the area (and have had my eye on a heretofore unchartered taco truck just half a mile down the road), I don’t really feel the need to return.
The primary knock is that King Burrito’s fare is overly greasy. I’m not really a health nerd, but a preponderance of seemingly random grease where there need not be will occasionally turn me off, much like a hot chick who farts repeatedly.
But King Burrito’s tacos aren’t bad, by any means. They are well constructed and cheap ($1.25). The table sauces are a bit bland. If you go on weekends, they will have chopped onions and cilantro (set out for Menudo) that you can help yourself to. It’s kinda dingey, and always packed, though (see burritos, huge).
Carne asada. King Burrito serves theirs with guacamole, so that’s a bonus. But what’s up with that guac?
It’s a weird, pale color, and overly creamy, as if it’s cut with mayo.
The pastor. These are really greasy — when I got them to go one time, you could really see a sheen of oil that soaked into the wrapper, rendering the paper translucent. I have a feeling that the pastor is simply grilled bits pork shoulder, that is then kept in achiote oil.
The carnitas. The carnitas at King Burrito is pretty good, and, surprisingly, the least greasy? Go figure.
Fully dressed taco.
King Burrito
2924 N Lombard St
Portland, OR 97217
503-283-9757
This coq au vin recipe, featured in a recent issue of Cook’s Illustrated (September, 2006), is very good. I was wary of the boneless, skinless thighs it called for (sacré bleu!), but they surprisingly worked in this dish. I added a shot of cognac after sauteeing the vegetables, and — as I’m wont to do out of laziness — substituted frozen pearl onions instead of blanching, scoring, and peeling 24 fresh onions. I also pretty much doubled the mushrooms (and garlic) the recipe called for. I served the results with egg noodles and was quite happy with the results.
Modern Coq au Vin
- 1 bottle red wine (or more if you are drinking while cooking)
- 2 cups chicken broth
- 10 sprigs fresh parsley (what the hell is a sprig? I just used half a bunch)
- 1/2 bunch parsley, stems removed, chopped
- 2 bay leaves
- 3 slices thick-bacon, cut into “lardons” (fancy way (and a misnomer) to say “slice the bacon into strips”)
- 2 1/2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken thighs, cut lengthwise. My thighs were smallish, so I didn’t cut all of them, and I didn’t really bother trimming the fat. Fat makes the world a better place.
- 5 tablespoons unsalted butter. My butter had salt in it. Don’t hate me.
- 24 frozen pearl onions, thawed, drained, and dried. I used 27.
- 8 ounces cremini mushrooms, stems removed, halved (or quartered). I also used white button mushrooms, and kept the stems. For button/cremini mushrooms, I like the stems. I think they taste good. There, I said it.
- 2 medium garlic cloves, pressed through a garlic press. 2? Try more like 7.
- 1 tablespoon tomato paste
- 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
- 1 shot (1 1/2 ounces) of cognac
In a non-reactive saucepan, combine wine, broth, 1/2 bunch parsley, stems and all, and bay leaves. Bring to a boil, reduce, and simmer until reduced in half, prolly around 1/2 hour or so. If you’re drinking, pour a glass of wine for yourself, and put on some music.
My mise en place, including an iPod shuffle connected to my Tivoli iPal speaker. Set List: “Guided by Voices’ Under the Bushes Under the Stars”, The Selecter’s “Too Much Pressure”, The Thermals “The Body, the Blood, the Machine”, Golden Smog’s “Another Fine Day”, Okkervil River’s “Black Sheep Boy”, Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks’ “Face The Truth”, and enough assorted singles from Paul Westerberg to properly fill out 512 megabytes.
Salt and pepper the chicken thighs. In a hot Dutch oven or huge ass sautee pan (i.e. deep and wide), swirl a tablespoon of butter and brown the thighs in two batches. Remove from pan and place on plate. Add bacon to the pan and render, then add two tablespoons of butter and sautee mushrooms for a few minutes, and then add the pearl onions.
After a minute or so, turn up the heat, then hit the vegetables with a shot of cognac. If you’re the dramatic type, you can light it on fire for a flambé, but if you’re like me and have an annoyingly sensitive indoor fire alarm, you can simply pour yourself another glass of wine and lament on what could have been. Add garlic, sautee for a few more seconds, salt and pepper the vegetables, and hit them with some of the chopped parsley.
In the meantime, you’ve already (in the past) reduced the wine/broth mixture, and strained it, right? I sure hope so. Return the chicken thighs the pan, and pour the liquid reduction over it, add tomato paste and flour, and stir. Bring to a simmer and reduce heat.
Go watch The Office and after a half hour or so check the seasoning and adjust the salt level. Continue to simmer and reduce on low heat until your coq soaks up more of the vin, and reduces to a stew, about another half hour or so. Once finished, swirl in last two tablespoons butter and remove from heat.
Serve with egg noodles, garnish with chopped parsley. There you have it, the ultimate French comfort food. The chicken thighs take on a wonderfuly complex, meaty flavor and the texture is just perfect, almost belying that it is ordinary poultry. Sit down in front of a fire with a glass of wine and enjoy your “modern” coq au vin, and if you want to complete the “modern” theme put on some “modern” French pop like Air or Phoenix and then ride the Max and pretend you’re on the Metro and then go on strike.
Oh my lord, chicken fried bacon (via Megnut again, from whom I am stealing all my blog posts, apparently).
This is Texas, after all. And Snook, TX, at that. One must admire the way they approach their food with such reckless abandon.
Up here in Portland we would use an artisanal smoked wild boar jowl, panko batter, expeller-pressed hazelnut oil, and serve it with a side of self-righteousness, white guilt, and the expressed stipulation that you must also adopt a third-world Asian baby.
Via Megnut, the White House’s Menu for the 2006 Holiday Receptions.
Looks delicious, albeit there’s a secret menu that’s not being publicized via press release.
White House Secret Menu
Faith-Based Sous Vide Guinea Hen with Preserved Olives
Trust us that it’s cooked to 165 degrees and will not give you botulism.
Voter Suppression Sea Bass with Vanilla
Brown people must wait in long buffet lines for hours to get this dish, if at all. And they’ll have to show ID.
Tax Cut Chateaubriand with Social Security Reduction
18 ounces of prime, marbled beef for those earning more than $1 million. Everyone else gets Steak-Ums and an audit.
FEMA-style Creole Trout Marguery
Who could have anticipated a break in the hollandaise sauce?
Failed Policy Spinach “Soufflee” Crisp
It did not rise, but at least we stayed the course by keeping it in the oven for 2 hours.
Texas-style Death Row Chili
Don’t bother asking for clemency, this dish is electrifying.
Medal of Freedom Fries
Only available to those who have completely and miserably failed.
Death Tax by Chocolate
A dessert so immense and worthy that you’ll pass it on to your deadbeat children.
NYC health board votes to ban trans fats.
The Board of Health voted Tuesday to make New York the nation’s first city to ban artery-clogging artificial trans fats at restaurants — from the corner pizzeria to high-end bakeries.
…
Fast-food restaurants and other major chains were particularly interested in the board’s decision on Tuesday, because for these companies, a trans-fat ban wouldn’t just involve substituting one ingredient for another. In addition to overhauling recipes, they have to disrupt nationwide supply operations and try to convince customers that the new french fries and doughnuts will taste just as good as the originals.
Already, McDonald’s Corp. has been quietly experimenting with more than a dozen healthier oil blends but has not committed to a full switch. At an investor conference last month, CEO Jim Skinner said the company is making “very good progress,” at developing an alternative, and vowed to be ready for a New York City ban.
Hopefully, McDonald’s atavistically reverts to frying in lard. Nothing like an apple pie fried in beef tallow. Mmmmm…beef tallow.
Run for the border…sprint to the toilet. E. coli in N.J. is linked to Taco Bell.
Those Crunch Wrap Supremes had one too many ingredients wrapped inside.
Guacamole makers sued for using too little avocado.
Tons of fake outrage about this one, as if this was a monumental surprise. How could they be so nefarious?
This has been going on since I was cognizant, i.e the very first time I read an ingredients list and the nutritional content of “guacamole” dip circa 1987. I was 13 at the time. And, presumably, “guacamole” dip had been crappy before then.
Save me the outrage. Sno-cap lard has fat? Sitcoms have a laugh track? Log Cabin Republicans are self loathing?
Cabel’s Blog LOL has issued a Subway challenge (and even provides templates) for those enterprising enough to pull a fast one on a sandwich artist. If you order the cheese “steak”, they will turn their back to microwave the meat, and the opportunity will present itself, natch.
Here are my entries.
Local Portland troubadours Norfolk & Western recently stopped by my old stomping grounds of Tucson and give a shout out to Pico de Gallo and Cafe Poca Cosa.
Pico de Gallo’s tacos do rule the roost (the thick, house made corn tortillas are ethereal) and last time I was in Tucson I ate three consecutive, 9am taco breakfasts there — barbacoa, asada, and some of the best fish tacos available outside of Ensenada. The table sauces are incendiary and amazing.
I’m not sure if they hit the little Poca Cosa (breakfast/lunch only, by the library) — whose pork chile colorado I miss dearly and ate every week when my office was across the street from their old location on Congress — or the big sister, which is more frou frou and features the best mole in Tucson.
Good job, Norfolk & Western, and see you guys back in Portland at Doug Fir on Dec. 8. Buy their album at Amazon.com or at Hush Records’ holiday sale for only 9 bucks!
“Choice cuts” – World’s 10 most expensive steaks.
On the “low” end? Smoked Salt American Kobe Rib Eye Cap Steak at BLT Prime, New York, for $95 bucks.
The top of the rib eye is surrounded by fat. When trimmed, the meat in the middle is called the cap. Chef de Cuisine Laurent Tourondel prepares this fatty delicacy by marinating it in smoke liquid, then grilling it and seasoning it with BLT’s house-smoked sea salt.
Most expensive? $2k for the “103″ Wagyu rib eye at Craftsteak New York.
This 40-pound steak (about 20 lbs. after cooking), was prepared for a private party at Craftsteak New York. Oven roasted in its entirety, the steak was served medium rare with a golden-brown crust. Although not listed separately here, Craftsteak New York’s Japanese Kobe filet, at $30 an ounce, works out to $240 for an eight-ounce serving and could comfortably rub haunches among our top ten.
Unless my math is wrong, the most expensive is the cheapest, assuming that for each pound you get 2 eight-ounce filets, which translates to 80 servings, which in turn comes out to just $25/person.
I have Craftsteak’s catering manager on the line — can I get 79 other people to join me?
Via Dethroner, a breakfast sandwich fit for a king.
I’m counting 16 quail eggs. I’m not sure if there’s magical quail factories in France, but one can only dream.
Borat to blame for destroying Pamela/Kid Rock marriage.
File under “Awesome”.
The Dude over at PortlandFoodandDrink.com likes to pile on Michael Hebberoy, he of ripe/Gotham/clarklewis infamy, and who can blame him? It’s low hanging fruit. I take Schadenfreudian pleasure in reading his posts regarding boy wonder (here, here and here). Partly because I’m a dick, but also because it’s still fairly entertaining. To draw a parallel: tonight I watched the puffy shirt episode of Seinfeld for the sixth time.
Anyhow, a fellow blogger took umbrage with one post in comments.
…the amount of negative attention that you focus on Michael Hebberoy is a little sad. Don’t you have someone else to focus on, or is the food scene in Portland really that small and pathetic that the antics of one ex-restaurateur are blog fodder for months? Maybe you got personally burned by Hebberoy and that’s where the vendetta comes from, but the name-calling and childish “nyah-nyah”-ing really detract from the credibility of what is otherwise a decent blog.
Later, she expounds, “I guess I don’t know enough about the Portland food scene to be ragging on you guys for harping on one man. Could the swath of destruction he left really be *that* bad??? I met the guy and really found him to be a food-revolutionary.”
To my discredit, I’ve never eaten at ripe, Gotham, or clarklewis. The latter I might still venture to in the near future, if it’s still around and I’m not feeling too self-conscious. I’ve heard good things about the food at all the aforementioned places. But “food-revolutionary”? Having a few dozen people over to your house for a dinner party is not revolutionary. If you are asking them to pay, it’s a business, you know, like a restaurant. If you think people should be grateful for the opportunity to pay good money to eat at your house, you’re an egomaniac.
“Killing” the restaurant is not revolutionary — it’s delusional. Like as if I claimed I’m subverting and reinventing journalism with my piddly keystrokes on this lame blog. It takes plenty of cocaine and stiff cocktails, while locked in a bathroom for extended periods with your closest admirers, for anyone to foment that sort of delusional hubris.
The conscious omission of capitalization is not revolutionary unless you’re E. E. Cummings. And having a “writer-in-residence”? That’s not revolutionary — merely whimsical. And to me makes as much sense as a Nascar pit crew employing a poet laureate, or a street magician needing an accountant.
Revolutionary? Fire. The cultivation of crops. Pasteurization. Food revolutions are epochal. 80,000 B.C. 8,000 B.C. 1862 A.D. Even taking into account the entropic evolution towards singularity, we still aren’t due for another food revolution for a few more years. Give me a ring in the year 2050 when organic, nano-robotic spores successfully spawn a chateaubriand in a laboratory vat.
Helping to cook and organize a meal for Kylie Minogue’s cousin and Norman Mailer’s butler doesn’t make you a revolutionary — it makes you a caterer. And I’m sorry, but catering is not revolutionary. It’s a profession, and, when done well, a craft.
This weekend we ventured out to Beaverton to Jin Wah for a dim sum breakfast. Jin Wah is on the Beaverton/Hillsdale highway, just west of 217, in that maze of strip malls. It is right across the street (north) from the Fred Meyer. Next door is Marinepolis, the conveyor belt sushi place.
Jin Wah bills itself as a Vietnamese restaurant, and if you check out their menu it features standard Viet fare (soups, bun, etc.) with Chinese offerings as well. On weekends they do a pretty standard fare dim sum. While on the whole, their dim sum is not as good as Wong’s King in SE Portland, it is much more accessible. On a Sunday morning at 10:30 AM, for instance, you’ll be hard pressed to find a seat at Wong’s without a substantial wait. This morning we were seated immediately in Jin Wah’s large dining room.
Also, Wong’s is so packed that you’ll have difficulty connecting with the various dim sum carts as they make their way through the dining room. High-demand items might be snatched away before the cart even makes it to your table — it took almost an hour last time I was there to secure a squid order. Not so at Jin Wah — the carts and waitresses pushing them are prolific enough that you don’t feel left out.
Here’s what I sampled:
- Shrimp har gow. These were good. The shrimp were fairly innocuous, but fresh tasting.
- Shrimp/vegatable dumplings with chives and dried shrimp. These had a slightly interesting taste, but were just ok.
- Chicken feet braised in anised broth. Bland. Better at Wong’s King, which does theirs with a flavorful black bean sauce.
- Massive shrimp meatballs coated in rice flour and rolled in chow fun noodles, and then fried. The waitress snipped these in half before serving with a thick sweet and sour sauce. The shrimp meat tasted "off" and these were not very good. I’m not sure if this replaces the sugar cane shrimp I had last time I was here, as this time these were noticeably absent. If so, that would be a shame – the sugar cane shrimp featured fried, battered shrimp meatballs and were quite good.
- Stuffed been curd sheets, stuffed with wood ear mushrooms, ground pork and shrimp. These were really good, very tender and full of flavor.
- Salt and pepper squid. Nice size portion of freshly battered (rice flour) and fried squid chunks, including tentacle ends. The squid is dusted with finely ground salt and pepper, and tossed with stir fried garlic, onions (green and yellow), and jalapeno rings. This was excellent (my favorite) and is a better preparation than what Wong’s King serves.
- Steamed chinese broccoli. A large portion of perfectly steamed greens and stems, mounded on a platter and doused with a few squirts of oyster sauce.
Total price came to $33 for two people.
The nation’s abuzz about fast food, Vancouver-style.
“Nightline” ran a glowing profile of the Vancouver restaurant chain as the flip side to “Fast Food Nation,” a film that opened Friday.
The movie is based on Eric Schlosser’s best-seller, which criticizes the fast-food industry’s labor practices and environmental impact, as well as its food: It comes from factories, not farms, he says.
But Schlosser loves Burgerville’s burgers and fries. He discovered them when he ate at a Burgerville the night before a 2005 speech in Portland.
“I’m not a paid spokesman for Burgerville,” Schlosser told ABC’s Terry Moran. “I just like to see companies that do things the right way.”
…
In addition to spotlighting its food, ABC reported how Burgerville supports wind power, offers health care benefits and uses waste cooking oil for biodiesel fuel.
Good for them. Via Extra MSG.
I had a very good meal at Alberta Street Oyster Bar and Grill last weekend.
It was the first time I’ve been. It’s a charming spot sandwiched between Bernie’s Southern Bistro and Bella Faccia Pizza on the south side of Alberta, a few blocks west of 33rd. The dining area forms a L around a large bar area, and the ambiance was welcoming on an early Saturday evening.
We started off with the House Cut Fries with Spicy Roumelade. The fries were sufficiently crispy, though of course I think they needed more salt (salt is my favorite food). The roumelade was very pleasantly piquant – my wife and I ate each fry down to the last crispified nub. My wife loved the creamy garlic dressing on her romaine salad, which I also thought was great. The salad featured some briny nicoise olives, and a single, thin crouton about the size of a small remote.
My panko fried oysters were dynamite. I usually try to avoid cooked oysters, but I have a weakness for anything panko battered. The appetizer featured 3 perfectly fried oysters (I forgot to ask what type of oyster – they were medium sized, larger than the kumamotos I treaure), topped with a warm bacon vinagrette, frisee, and crowned with a single, poached quail egg. After piercing the egg and allowing the yolk to spill, the combination of flavors and textures really hit the spot. In my opinion, oysters become a bit “gamey” and creamy when cooked, but paired with creamy quail yolk, the acidity of the vinagrette (including chewy little bacon nibblets), and the airy crispiness of the frisee greens (and the panko batter itself), these oysters really shined.
My wife had the burger, which in execution I admit was sort of half-baked. First of all, she asked for her burger well done, despite my admonishments over the years to never ask for anything ever well done. But what can you do. This burger, though, suffers more in concept due to the ciabatta bun – the sandwich itself is difficult to put away. The ciabatta, which reminds me of what Delfina’s sells over at their bakery on 42nd Ave., needed more of a toast to really hold up as a burger bun — it was really too chewy to act as a proper foil for the meat. My wife complained the blue cheese was too sparse, and the garnish of pale-looking tomatoes (it’s November though) and three cornichons was too simple. The burger was topped with bacon that was too undercooked for my wife’s liking – no fault of ASOBG, that is her own preference.
For my entree I opted for the duck breast, sliced at a bias and served atop honey glazed root vegetables and potato gnochhi. The duck was roasted, more medium rare than rare, and was extremely tender and flavorful. Duck breast is one of my favorite “red” meats. The root vegetables of potatos and carrots were cooked perfectly, and the gnocchi were toothsome and tender at the same time. The entire dish intermingled with what I think was a cilantro (“Coriander” on the menu) oil, and I thought I could discern other green herbs as well. All in all, a very satisfying dish, one I paired with self-sliced “lardons” from the wonderfully rich and smokey bacon discarded from my wife’s burger — this actually was amazing.
Service was efficient and friendly. Our server we recognized from Cia Vito back in the day. We skipped desert and went to Pix.
For a more comprehensive and well-written writeup on this place, check out the review at Food Dude’s place and what other diners have posted at Portlandfood.org. I will be back to explore more items on the menu, and would like to try their happy hour (all night Sundays and Mondays). This place is a great anchor to the Concordia/Alberta neighborhood.
Last week, I picked my Mom up from the airport and headed over to southeast 82nd for some grazing and shopping. We stopped at Fubonn shopping center, and first had a bite to eat at the Banh Cuon Tinh Danh.
I’ve been here a few times, and each time it really seems to get progressively more erstwhile.
Case in point: three of their banh cuon items feature “Shrimp Tempura”, which I thought was very odd but intriguing so I ordered one of them – the option with pork filling and topped with shrimp tempura.
After being served, I inquired to the missing shrimp, and was informed that the “shrimp tempura” was not the only “misprint” on the item, but that the banh cuon was not filled with anything at all, which explained the grilled pork scattered on top of plain, folded rice flour sheets. The owner claimed all the shrimp tempura items were misprints.
However, looking at Extra MSG’s photos from last year, you can see that there’s fried shrimp on top of the banh cuon, and yep, the banh cuon is stuffed (like it is traditionally). Perhaps they have changed the menu, that’s fine, but reprint them at least, instead of using the Jedi mind trick after I’ve ordered (“These aren’t the droids you’re looking for”.)
Earlier this year during my Mom’s previous visit she had the hui tieu dac biet, filled to the rim with fish balls, pork, liver, etc. It was good, and my young daughter helped slurp up the random protein items. This time she had a soup with thin egg noodles filled with tasty slices of stewed beef and your standard fish balls. The broth was very spicy and flavorful. The soup came with a garnish plate of sprouts, lime, jalapenos, and cilantro.
And that’s one thing that is bugging me about this place lately – the garnishes. I would expect more herbs and additional/different vegetables with my dishes. For instance, I had the Bun Thit Nuoung (cool rice noodles topped with grilled lemograss pork) here once and it was garnished only with cilantro, lettuce and pickled carrots and radish. Another time, I ordered Bun Thit Nuoung Cia Gio (with pork and fried egg rolls), and same deal. My banh cuon dish this time also suffered the same fate. Iceberg lettuce (which is a major foul, IMO), no cucumber, no mint, which I feel is essential for rice noodle dishes served with nuoc cham. And the cia gio were insipid – very thin, stuffed with hardly anything at all – I ate mostly egg roll wrapper skins. Admittedly, my mom sets the bar pretty hard with cia gio, but these weren’t even mediocre.
After shopping at Fubonn, we stopped by Vina Deli, a newish banh mi stop just a few blocks north of Fubonn. The banh mi menu is odd in that there are 11 items on the Vietnamese language side, and 9 items on the translated English side, and #1—#4 actually correlate, and after that it breaks down and devolves into chaos. I ordered the Banh Mi Thit Nuong, with the Vietnamese grilled pork — there is a Chinese BBQ pork option as well, but they are numbered differently on the menu, so I made sure to order by name. The lady behind the counter didn’t really “get” my order, so my mom thankfully intervened on my part.
The sandwich was actually very large ($2.75) in comparison to other banh mi shops in the area. The meat was flavorful and plentiful, and the pickled carrots and radish garnish was actually paper thin slices, rather than the long julienne — a small detail that I enjoyed immensely, as it added a different dimension. After Binh Minh (nee Maxim’s) on NE Halsey, this is the best Viet sandwich I’ve had in Portland.
Vina also features some very fresh and plentiful looking goi cuon rolls for $3, and sells plate lunches with rice and your choice of 1 to 3 items (the latter being $5.50). One of those item options appeared to be an entire fried pomfret, so this could potentially be a good deal.
In the same strip mall as Vina, there’s a Good Taste Chinese restaurant that sells roast pig and duck by the pound. We picked up half a duck ($8.95) and a good pound of roast pig ($7.95/lb) complete with a hefty veneer of crackling. The duck came with a plastic ramekin of duck sauce, which I poured over the fowl and a plate of jasmine rice that night for dinner. The meat on the duck was rather sparse, but it was tasty and the skin relatively crispy. The pork we used to make a braised dish, which is the subject of another post.
Chow explores the epistemological underpinnings of America’s aversion to horse meat.
Passon emphasizes a key point: Since Americans have never had to eat horse, unlike the historically impoverished peasantry of Europe, the meat’s never become normalized. “If we train Americans, they would eat it,” he says. Asked if he would serve horsemeat to New Yorkers if they’d order it, Passon is enthusiastic: “Oh, definitely.” Horse is typically compared to beef—although it is lighter and less fatty—and Passon, who loves its taste, likens its texture to that of skirt steak. “It’s very sweet and it’s very bloody,” he adds. Traveling in Italy recently, he purchased a horse salami, or salami di cavallo. (Horsemeat was traditionally used for sausage in Italy’s north.) “I compared it to the pork one, and it was ten times better,” he says. “I gave it to my partner, and he’s like, this is the best sausage I’ve ever had.
So true. After the Kentucky Derby winner broke its leg last spring, it was the top story in the American media for weeks (incidentally, soldiers killed in the battlefield were lucky to be mentioned — so much for supporting the troops). While I’m not too keen on chowing down on Seabiscuit anytime soon, I can’t really fault the rest of the world (including our Canuck neighbors) for finding deliciousness in the saddle. Chez Pim recently posted about her experience with horse fat fries, and the subsequent revulsion.
As gourmands (and dilettantes) are forever pushing the envelope in terms of the market for high-end ingredients, imagine what thoroughbred horse meat would fetch? Fuck Kobe beef, get me a Secretariat filet, stat!
Cabel’s Blog LOL explore’s Kettle’s new beta chip program.
The Aztec Chocolate (“That’s right, a chocolate potato chip, made with actual organic Dagoba chocolate powder, cinnamon, chili.. wow. I can’t imagine eating a bag, but I’m glad I got a chance to eat at least one.”) sounds…erm, interesting (maybe still “alpha”). The Royal Indian Curry sounds like a must-have release.
I bet Kettle still beats the launch of Windows Vista.
From Ms. Karen Brooks via Oregon Live.
I saw the menu last week and it’s one of the most exciting menus I’ve seen in some time, drawing on a broad Asian palate, with a number of dishes never seen before in Portland. As Ali G would say, check it: A wild-sounding northern Thai roots salad called yam samun phrai, mottled with cashews, peanuts and sesame seeds, tossed in chile-scented coconut milk dressing and finished with an herbal crown of shredded betel, sawtooth and basil leaves. Deep-fried Vietnamese chicken wings caramelized in garlic and Phu Quoc fish sauce, made from the long-jawed anchovy and prized in Vietnam for its rich, nuanced pungency. A Yunnan-style soup fashioned from charcoal-roasted leg of lamb, with fresh wheat noodles and mint mixed in lamb broth.
Oh my.
UPDATE: Mr. Pok Pok posts @Portlandfood.org…
pok pok is growing
We will be closed Thanksgiving day, November 23rd. We will reopen at 5 pm Wednesday, November 29th for dinner only in our new 32 seat dining room, The Whiskey Soda Lounge, in the basement of the house next door to the shack! We will resume lunch service Monday, December 4th also in the new dining room. There will be new lunch and dinner menus as well as a late night menu. Pok Pok will continue to be a nonsmoking establishment. No reservations will be taken, sorry.
The shack will be undergoing some changes too. It will become a satellite kitchen for the dining room and a to-go pick up window. THE SHACK WILL ONLY ACCEPT CASH PAYMENT UPON REOPENING! Don’t worry, you can still use your credit card, but you will have to go into the dining room and place an order with the bartender or host and pay them. There will no longer be a $10 minimum order for cards. This is to streamline operation of the shack and dining room. The shack menu will change a little, but most of the usual items will be available.
Thank you very much for your patience as we go through them changes, and thanks for your patronage during our first year
There was a post today at Food Dude’s place about local exotic meat and game purveyor Nicky USA, and their recent score of some choice goose livers. In that post, Nancy Rommelman briefs us on The War Against Carnivores™, including a recap of the last few salvos. She frames Portland’s latest engorged goose liver capture within that context.
In comments, I linked to a post by Michael Ruhlman wherein a colleague of his describes visiting a duck foie farm in France and witnessing the ducks living humane lives, gracefully force fed a diet that includes what one gathers to be the RENDERED FAT OF ITS OWN KIND.
When I first learned of this a few months ago, I was pretty creeped out. The last time I’ve had foie was last year as part of a 7 course chef’s tasting menu at the Montage Resort in Laguna Beach (thx bro!), and I thoroughly enjoyed it. It can be quite a tasty piece of flesh, though I would opt for a seared, savory preperation rather than some cold, compressed terrine. That night we ate pan seared Hudson Valley foie gras served atop a seared rare duck breast with some sort of black truffle something or another — it was pretty damned amazing. The foie literally melted away with each bite.
However, I’m not too eager to dive back in. Look, I’ll be honest, the inhumanity angle vis-à-vis force-fed fowl never really gave me much pause. First of all, I eat the stuff infrequent enough (if I have the coin to splurge, you’re more likely to see me opt for marbled steak). And in the back of my mind, just postulating the kind of horrors that are practiced at, say, commercial chicken concerns, why would I of all people draw some imaginary line? Last month, I uncomfortably shadowed an 18-wheeler on the interstate stacked with 2×2 crates, each occupied by a live, hapless chicken. I couldn’t help but to steal glances at the wall-of-poultry monstrosity and shudder at the sheer miscalculated application of cold, free market principles.
If you check out the website for Sonoma Foie Gras, the farm mentioned in the post, you’ll learn:
Guillermo and Junny Gonzalez left their homeland of El Salvador in 1985 to pursue a new venture: The establishment of a foie gras farm in the United States. They traveled first to France where they apprenticed in foie gras production with the respected Dubois family in the Perigord Region.
It could be that the farm that supplies Portland with their foie feeds their ducks their brothers, sisters, and cousins. Or not.
I posted some feigned outrage, but it fell on deaf ears (as a friend of mine says, “I draw the line at deliciousness”). But the more I think about it, the more potentially creeped out I become. Fuck ethics and debating any particular merits of “humanely” prepping an animal for its eventual slaughter. That has little to do with this. There has to be some sort karmic retribution to force feeding an animal, any animal, TO EAT ITSELF. You’re crossing some sort of line of self-restraint — violating some ancient Hammurabic-like code — with this weird, disturbingly fucked practice, like when the dude from INXS hung himself trying to wack off. Mad cow disease seems to me prima facie evidence.
Sure, call me a pansyweight plebe who doesn’t appreciate the delicate art of fine delectables. I mean, look at the title of this blog. But I would feel a bit weird about serving my dog a diet of rendered beagle jowls, or my cat its own testicles.
New Rule: There’s just something about a crew cut that says, “You can trust me.” This is Montana’s new senator, John Tester. I don’t know much about him. And I don’t need to. His hair says it all. “I’m friendly, I’m dependable, I’m literally level-headed.” If hair could smile, it would look like this. And most importantly, it’s hair that says, “You will never ever, ever, ever find me snorting meth with a gay hooker.”
— Bill Maher
This past weekend I was with the family out in Portland’s shaved and deodorized armpit, otherwise known as the Tigard/Beaverton interchange near Washington Square Mall. Lacking a clear consensus on what/where to eat, we stopped at Chipotle Mexican Grill because it happened to be on a street.
Chipotle is owned (or used to be owned or something (I’m too lazy to look it up or even care)) by the McDonald’s corporation. But apparently it has much more meager roots as a small chain in Colorado with an emphasis on natural, sustainable ingredients — most notably the beef, pork and chicken they feature in their burritos and tacos.
Back when I lived in Tucson, Chipotle opened a branch near the University of Arizona campus that I visited a couple times, and I was duly unimpressed. Some 6 years later, I’m similarly unimpressed and, in fact, rather fucking pissed about the entire enterprise.
I ordered the tacos, which came 3 to an order for the soft version, and 4 to an order for hard tacos. I’m not sure why the disparity — this is the kind of thing that pisses me off right off the bat and keeps me up at night. Of course I ordered the soft tacos, as that’s my thing, but now I have to wonder why I’m getting shortchanged one taco. Don’t make me think, you goddamn soft taco cockblockers!
Thinking I would get soft corn tortillas, instead I watched as the guy behind the counter took out three small flour tortillas and stuck them into some steam/press contraption (similar to what you’d press a pair of slacks with) for about 3 seconds, ensuring that the flour discs themselves would reach the optimum level of gummy crappiness as dictated by the corporate division of Standards, Weights and Measurements.
You have your choice of meats – Chicken, Carnitas, “Barbacoa”, or Vegetarian. I had the “Barbacoa”, which is essentially braised, shredded beef. Each of the meat choices vary in price difference, from 15 cents to a quarter or so or more, and the Vegetarian is the cheapest, but by not as much as you’d think. The Vegetarian option includes guacamole, yet guacamole is an upcharge for the other choices. Again, why the disparity? Why is one meat 15 fucking cents cheaper than the other? You’re AGAIN pissing me off. I hate you and your tiered meat pricing, you fucking corporate bean counting rat bastards.
I digress. Chipotle takes the Subway approach, in that you’re immediately pushed into a conveyor belt as you build your burrito/tacos. The same guy who reconstituted my gummy tortilla discs apparently is too into himself to be the same person who hor