Dreaming of Meat
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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.
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.
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.
Kai Yaang from Pok Pok. That’s a mighty fine bird.
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.
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.
The AHT Guide to Hamburger and Cheeseburger Styles. (A Hamburger Today)
Excellent compendium from Mr. Kuban.
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.
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.
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.
The venerable Sauce Supreme led the way on a tri-city, quad-izakaya crawl (ostensibly) by train last night. Live vicariously at this link.
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.
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.
More
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.
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.”
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 .
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.
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).
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.
Rare “Prehistoric” Shark Photographed Alive. (Buzzfeed)
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.
Bear Grylls is about to eat a 20 foot boa constrictor. As soon, of course, he gets rid of the parasites and feces.
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.
Any suggestions on what to do with this? I was thinking something perfunctory like chili.
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.
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.
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.)
Why Pepperoni Pizza Sucks. (Slice)
Fuck that noise.
I’m wondering—out of sheer sociological and metallurgical curiosity—if I should eat a McRib today?
The McRib has returned. May God have mercy on our souls.
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.”
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.
We’ve heard this before. (In-N-Out to PDX? thread @PortlandFood.org)
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.
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.
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.
Never underestimate the strength of the human spirit.
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
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.
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.
Amen, brother.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
I encourage you all to check out Jeni’s fantastic series of posts from her recent travels in Vietnam.
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.
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
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.
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.
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.
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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.”
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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?
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.
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.
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
For the intrepid cook (who has a bulletproof home insurance policy), Chow.com has an photo-essay rundown on how to fry a turkey just in time for T-day.
Also, tips on what to do with that vat of oil after you’re done.
jonahshpdx is probably being a bit delusional, but I can’t blame him for his optimism and wishful thinking.
This summer I spent some time in San Diego for a wedding. Two months prior, I was in Las Vegas for the bachelor party, and both times I made sure to hit In-N-Out Burger.
In-N-Out has been around forever, but only exists in a few locales outside of Southern California. They are privately owned and don’t want expansion for the sake of growth – they prefer to have a firm grasp on quality control. As jonahshpdx mentions in his post, this may be changing some time in the future.
A source close to the situation, who requested anonymity because of a confidentiality agreement, told The Daily that the burger chain is besieged daily by investors interested in buying the privately-held company. But a sale, the source said, is unlikely to happen anytime soon…
…But even if In-N-Out remains in the family, the company could decide to move beyond California, Nevada and Arizona, where its 202 restaurants are now concentrated. The chain could also opt to expand faster, as Boyd’s lawsuit alleges Taylor and Martinez secretly plan. In an effort to head off these grumblings, the company released a statement after Snyder’s death pledging to continue to grow at “a moderate and deliberate pace.” The company currently opens 10 to 12 new restaurants every year. But the company, known for its secrecy, has said little else, inevitably leading to speculation from industry observers.
As much as I’d enjoy an In-N-Out here in Portland, I’d prefer it to be on their own terms in order to keep a firm grasp on quality control. Every time I go to In-N-Out and order a Double Double-Animal Style-Mustard/Ketchup Instead, it’s produced perfectly as I imagined. Every time.
The buns come out perfectly toasted each and every time. The menu itself is a lesson in simplicity, efficiency and usability. The secret menu is not just a gimmick, but a ingenius way pimp your burger.
Did you know the employees, with their cute and clever throwback uniforms, are paid $3-XX/hour higher than most other burger joints? When I was in San Diego in the mid-to-late nineties, they would start their employees off at $9/hr, which at the time was almost $4 over minimum wage. That was probably why everyone working there seemed so jovial and easygoing, and took pride in their job. I would sit back after my order and admire them working – I know, it’s kinda creepy, but for me it’s hard to not fetishize about efficiency (which is why I love Ikea).
There would be one guy whose sole purpose was to hand load potatoes – one by one – in a slicer, and yank the lever to force them through the expeller (fresh cut fries – yum). And another guy would empty out the fries into a huge white cotton towel (to soak up the grease), salt, and then toss the fries by holding each end of the towel and shaking. That was his sole responsibility.
Also, what other fast food joint has been immortalized in a Coen brother’s movie?
The old skool marquee. Makes you feel all tingly.
A Double-Double and a single Cheeseburger, both Animal Style-Mustard/Ketchup Instead. With grilled onions, that are nicely browned and carmelized.
Another shot, so you can see the packaging and the fresh cut fries.
My friend Corey (who lives in Tacoma) alerted me to the “slow news day” happening up north…
Hungry horde welcomes new hamburger in town.
If the Tacoma News Tribune is to be believed, the local kinfolk are all aflutter and excited like little school girls that a Carl’s Jr. has opened shop.
Donald Hedge, a Tacoma soldier, was the first to walk through the doors. He had waited two hours.
“I know Carl’s Jr. burgers from California,” he said. “The meat tastes like meat…”
Apparently, in Tacoma, that’s reason for celebration. Talk about the soft bigotry of low expectations. It’s like holding a ticker tape parade each time a Walgreens opens.
In last month’s issue of Gourmet, Michael Ruhlman — who recently guest-blogged at Megnut’s place and whose writing I respect — penned an ode to hot dogs.
He claims the best hot dogs in the world are Vienna Beefs, and having had a Chicago-style dog last year at O’Hare on my way to Rochester, I can’t say I’d put up a firm argument.
Hot dogs, he explained, are part of the meat genus we call “emulsified forcemeat”. I’d never heard of that term before, and in addition to conjuring images of a Nordic death metal four piece (or a gay S&M fetish flick), this reductive term sounds a little less than appetizing. But as every professional athlete inevitably says in the course of a cliche-ridden press conference (and as Pope John famously pronounced when asked about Mel Gibson’s Jew-baiting movie), “it is what it is.”
I ran across an article (via Ruhlman via NYTimes and I made a short post here previously about it but I’m too lazy and thick with enchiladas to bother linking to) about how the organic franks from premier beef producers were making a splash on the hot dog scene. Instead of the pessimistic nitrates used to artificially preserve the meat, they used celery juice. See, nitrates also give the dog its nice, pinkish hue, and nitrate-free dogs have a really nasty brown tinge to it, like cardboard. Celery juice to the rescue!
I stopped by Trader Joes shortly after reading the article and picked up what I consider to be the best hot dogs in the world – Niman Ranch Fearless Uncured Beef Franks.
They come four to a package, and each one weighs in at a hefty quarter pound. I checked the ingredients list, and lo and behold celery juice was listed. If you haven’t had these hot dogs and consider yourself a hot dog fan, pick up a package next time you’re at Trader Joes (I’m not sure where else to buy them). They are actually leaner than many 1/4 franks I’ve seen – with 19 grams of fat – I’ve seen other dogs such as the Sinai Kosher’s at Costco run 30 grams. For post-cooked weight, that’s actually less fat than a raw 80% ground beef burger.
Here is a full metal jacket Chicago dog I’ve recently had, starring a Niman Ranch uncured.
The End of Times is near! Well, the end of Pok Pok 1.0, anyhow. Pok Pok is Portland’s very own Thai hut whose reputation is reaching mythic proportions.
Mr. Pok Pok tells all at PortlandFood.org. August will be a month of hibernation for the Pok Pok, and in September it will retool before opening as a mere semblance of its former self.
pok pok will close for the month of august. the last day of service for july will be the saturday the 29th. during that time, we will move the production kitchen from the basement to upstairs in the house and finish building out the new dining room and service facilities in the basement… plus sneak off to thailand and environs for a couple weeks to buy stuff and solidify recipes and menu ideas. we will reopen the shack the first week of september and the new dining room later that month, if all goes as planned. along with the new indoor seating and full liquor license will come an expanded menu, mostly thai but touching on other cuisines of the region. don’t worry, we’re not getting fancy on you; it’ll still be simple fare that goes well with beer and whisky served in a simple but more sheltered setting. thanks much, andy.
Andy assures us they are not “getting fancy on” us…I for one cheer the earnestness. Touching on other cuisines in the region sounds mighty interesting…Malaysian? Vietnamese? Cambodian? Burmese?
Looks like the clock is ticking on Pok Pok 1.0 Shack Edition – you’re on notice.