Eating in Indiana

Part two of our trip to Chicago is the part where we head to Indiana. I was meeting B’s family for the first time and I was nervous. Suddenly there were 20 Tomky’s all around! Luckily they were all very nice and interested in talking to me and I tried to stay calm. It was very tiring, and eventually I had to retreat for a nap, but not before I got to try some new foods (don’t worry, this still is and always will be a blog first and foremost about food). Aside from the usual hamburgers and hot dogs, B’s family is swedish and thus had a few Swedish eats around. That was wonderful. We started with a few pepperkokar cookies, like thin gingerbread, accompanied by some lovely mojitos made with mint fresh from his mother’s garden! Her plants are clearly doing better than mine, which to be honest don’t look all that much worse then before I abandoned them for 5 days. Which says more about how they looked before than their resiliance to apathetic care. Right, Swedish food. The swedish meatballs were terrific, in a thick gravy, and cooked till just done, meaning they retained great texture and flavor. There was also swedish potato sausage. I loooooved this. Seriously, it tasted like matzoh ball sausage. I think I’m going to get me some next time I find myself in Ballard. Or Ikea. It was in broth with some slightly bland vegetables, luckily B’s Grandpa rescued them with “slap ya momma” cajun seasoning spices. Very funny.

There were leftovers, but upon returning from firework watching, the three tomky brothers and myself ransacked the fridge for leftovers and left not even a crumb of Swedish yummies behind.

Did I fail to mention dessert? I don’t know what was in Grandma’s banana cream pie, but darn it was good! I was awoken from my nap to try some, and that was just fine with me.

The Taste of Chicago…And Tasting Chicago

Last weekend I was in Chicago, ostensibly to meet B’s family. “Find out all the best food” he told me, encouragingly. So there was born a second reason for the trip to Chi town, a tasting of the best food we could find. We arrived on Thursday evening and went to meet some friends at a bar called the Hopleaf. I was excited they suggested this place, as it was on my list to try anyways. Great beer selection, delicious curry mussels. Let me rephrase, transcendent curry mussels. I was impressed. Pretty good fries, pretty good pork belly with strange sauces. I would stick with the good beers and the mussels.

From there we moved next door and I tried a Goose Island “Honkers” beer which was fun and tasty…then it was off to bed to get ready for the next morning at….The Taste.

The Taste Of Chicago Yes, I was warned. “You’ll be hot sweaty and there are a million people and its expensive, blah blah blah.” They told me horror stories. The crowds, the masses. I came in prepared for warfare. I left happy as a clam and very full. It was in fact a wonderful experience. Upon arrival, we got tickets and started eating. First we hit up the Beef Sandwich at Ricobene’s. This was very good. Whenever possible, we tried to do Taste Portions, as they were far more reasonable prices and we could try more stuff. The taste portion at Ricobenes was perfect. The sandwich was well fried, the crisp breading was thin enough that it didn’t overwhem the meat, but enhanced it and the meat was far more tender than I expected. The bread and sauce were nothing special, but were good enough that they matched up to the flavors of the sandwich.
Next we headed to Vee Vee’s for some jerk chicken (taste portion). This was nothing special. I had heard good things, but really it was pretty average, not enough flavor, the cruddy bits of chicken. Dissappointing. We moved on to the specialty beer tent so we could get something that was not bud or bud lite. I discovered a tasty and refreshing Beach Bum Blonde. Beer was slightly pricey, but really not that bad for a festival, and unlike here in Seattle, you didn’t have to stay in the designated drinking area, which was nice. We picked up Cochinita Pibil at the Adobo Grill next. These were not taste portions, so they struck me as quite expensive. On top of that, they were nothing special. Good tacos, but nothing unbelievable. One at taste portion would have been a better value. We continued our wander when B decided to veer from the list. Good things rarely happen when we do that. Oops. We had some not very good roasted corn from O’Brien’s. We soldiered on finding the Costa’s Gyro stand. These were very good gyros. The sauce all dripped out the end (and onto my dress) which sucked, as it wasn’t on the meat, but the meat had a lot of flavor and the whole thing was very good. We picked up some more tickets and got a taste portion of samosa at Arya something starting with a B’s. It was a very average, if not mediocre, samosa. It was put into sauce which made it soggy. Lame. I was dissappointed there. Luckily things took a turn for the better here, as we tried the BJ’s Market catfish. These were extremely good. I had recently had a bad catfish experience, and this proved to me I could like it again. Yum! From here we headed through the one crowded corridor. You just have to really embrace the ridiculousness, the festiveness. And have nowhere to be any time soon, too. That helps. We picked up a slice of Lou Malnati’s cheese pizza. I had deep dish pizza many years ago, but I have no recolection of like or dislike. I don’t like too much sauce on my pizza, and I think I was concerned that much of the deepness of the dish would be filled with sauce. It turned out it was not. There was a lot of cheese (I love cheese) and crust (I love crust). It had definately been sitting for a bit, but the taste was good, and the slightly thick cheese (because it was no longer melted) didn’t bother me. I liked it. I like deep dish. This was a good thing to learn. After this we hopped out of the taste to pick up some better beer at a nearby mini mart then sat on the grass to hear a favorite band of ours, Old 97’s. They played a great festival set and we were buzzed and happy as we moved on in our adventure. We headed to a feared sign: “Latino/Indian Fusion.” That is a travesty. Ugh, I hate fusion. However, what we had been told to try, mango cumin dusted fries, was delicious. Good fries, good flavorings. It was a taste portion and it totally hit the spot. As I thought about it, mango and cumin are really not fusion, as both are heavily used in both latin and indian cuisine. It was the fries that made it fusion. And let’s be honest, what DOESN’T go well with french fries? (I’m actually excited to hear any answers to that questions…). We had extra tickets left and again B made the poor decision to stray from the list. We got a brat and a perogei at a near by stand. Both were miserably bad. The brat had zero flavor and the bread was dry and there was too much of it in relation to the meat. The one measly perogei I got (by far the smallest ‘taste’ portion) was greasy and limp. Not the best way to end the night. So we didn’t!

We headed up to our friend’s brothers house for a fourth of July fiesta. We met lots of great people, learned a ton about chicago. Hung out on a chicago style porch. Ate more food: They prepared chicken and steak for tacos, delicious chilequiles (I love chilequiles), rice. They had lemonade, mineral water and vodka cocktails, which I could have drank a ton of. It was a really good time. I was starting to really like Chicago. I never like other places. I liked Chicago…

Don’t Cheat!

I was (shamefully hanging head) watching The Next Food Network Star. They harp continually on the contestants for not having a culinary point of view. I don’t understand the need for one, though I suppose for a show it is important. So I got to thinking about what mine would be. I thought back on my recent culinary adventures: Baguettes from scratch (which are finally good enough to post about, soon), soup dumplings fully by hand. And I realized what mine is: Don’t Cheat! From the most basic recipe–I can make a mean papardelle pasta with shaved parmesan that tastes like freaking heaven in ten minutes from scratch–to the most complicated, do it all. Don’t use premade sauces, don’t use short cuts (unless they are good ones, where you still get everything done–freezing your homemade stock in ice cube trays, for example). I guess you could say it is the anti-Rachel/Sandra tactic, though I think Anthony already holds that title. But seriously, my basic idea is that you have to choose a recipe that fits your time period, not try to fit the recipe into your given time period.

Where to eat in Lake Chelan

My answer? Don’t. I’m not saying to starve yourself, by anymeans. I’m saying, if you are staying in town, you want to grill. Armed only with olive oil, salt, pepper and some rosemary I grabbed from the side of the road, I prepared an amazing meal on the grills. A flank steak, grilled medium rare, a mound of asparagus, a pile of potatoes. I shouldn’t have spoiled myself, because all the meals we went out to in the town of Chelan had no prayer of living up to that standard. Luckily outside of the town of Chelan, there are some tastier options.

This is Cisco’s, which is in Entiat. It’s about 20 minutes from Chelan, between Chelan and Wenatchee, so a good stopover if you are on your way in or out of town. Amazing Mexican food. I hadn’t had a torta like that in a while. The owner was nice, came outside and chatted with us while we ate. The salsa is a cabbage version that was pretty impressive.

The other reccomendation I offer is Blueberry Hill in Manson, on the far side of Chelan. It’s a bit out of the way, but it is good solid food (I suggest the French Dip) with a beautiful view. And you can do lots of wine tasting on the way back to town.

 

My First Article

It’s out. My first published food writing article. And you know what? They got my name wrong. Even worse? My mother was the one who pointed it out to me. In the table of contents I’m Naomi Bishop, then you go to the article and suddenly I’m Naomi Cambell. Not even spelled like the supermodel either. To add insult to injury, in the printing or editing process my accent marks got deleted and now it looks like I don’t know how to spell crème fraîche. Oy. It was a little heartbreaking, I have to admit. Brett kept saying that someday it will make a funny story. My only question is will it make a funny story because I’m a famous food writer and “look at my first piece, what a donkey” or will it be “look at this flailing attempt I made to be a food writer. I couldn’t even get my name right”…

Anyways, if you are looking to see the article by me (and my buddy, Ms. Cambell), you can find WINO around Seattle. Where around Seattle? I wish I could tell you. I tried to get my editors to give me specific places, and they just kept naming neighborhoods. I found my copy at the Old Peculiar Bar in Ballard.

Anthony Bourdain has Big Balls (live show at the Moore)

Yup, that is my conclusion after having seen him perform last night at the Moore Theatre. And I don’t just think that because his pants were a little tight. I say that because this is a man who truly has only one thing going for him–that he is straight up, downright hilarious. He doesn’t have anything to say that a million other people haven’t already said. It is simply his naked comic timing and wording that have gotten him where he is today.

Okay, let me back up. When we waited to go see him, I was a little worried. Obviously, as a superfangirl, I would have bought a ticket even if it were just to see him stand there and cluck like a chicken. But I admit, I was worried that I would have heard his spiels before, seen his shtick. Then he stepped on to stage. Like a 12 year old at a Backstreet Boys concert, my heart fluttered. It was crazy to see him in person. There he was! Right in front of me. It was cool. He started talking. I would say about 30% of what he said was stuff I’d heard before, read before, seen before. But there were some totally great lines. He justified kicking off Dale from Top Chef by declaring that eating his scallops was like “felching Mrs. Butterworth.” His humbleness was pervasive, from his clear embarassment when he came out to racous cheers to when he admitted he doubted he could make it past the second round of Top Chef.

Other great moments included his discussion of why Scandinavia has such bad food (Mongols never invaded) and the question and answer period. The Q & A truly showed his skill as a comedian, as he was unfazed by even the dumbest questions and turned them all into hilarious, spontaneous mini monologues.

It was pretty amazing. I assume, since they said last night that this was the premiere, that he’ll be doing a few more of these shows. I would reccomend them.

Seafood on the Grill: Oysters and Saba

Yup, we’re still in America. Nope, that is not meat on my Memorial Day grill. I was at the store (and starving, never a good move) looking for food to grill. B called “Is it okay if I just do seafood?” I asked, standing over an enormous tub of giant Pacific oysters. These puppies were big and meaty. But I couldn’t stop there, I went a little overboard. Scallops, for ceviche, mackeral (aka saba) to wrap in banana leaves and grill, big, beautiful asparagus. It was, I must admit a bit of a feast.

The ones on the left are topped with lime juice, salt, pepper and cilantro in a ceviche style, the ones on the right are just plain sashimi style topped with tobiko, which I had picked up in all the hungry excitement at the store. I grilled the asparagus plain, with just olive oil, salt and pepper, a little bit of fresh thyme, from my plant (which has yet to die!). The oysters are even easier, I just plop them on the grill. After 8 or so minutes you can hear them give a little “POP” as they open, and they are ready to go. I served them with a spicy sauce made of sambal oelek and tonkatsu sauce mixed together.

For the main dish, we took the mackeral and rubbed it down with salt, pepper, curry and turmeric and let it sit for an hour before wrapping it in a banana leaf and throwing it on the grill too.

It is really too bad that America insists on filling their grills with big honkin’ cuts of meat, because these oysters and fish were at least as good as the last overcooked steak or store bought hamburger patty I ate.

Adventures in Charcuterie

I know it has been a while since I promised to tell you about my adventures with pork belly curing, but alas I never did. Luckily my less lazy than myself co-worker has put up a lovely post chronicling our adventure. I reccomend that you read it here.

Upcoming food porn posts for you to look forward to: B’s given me permission to post his amazing food pics from Japan and gettin’ out the grill for Memorial Day–Seafood Style.

My 100th Post

Really? It seems like I just started. I’ve been posting, under various guises–the long forgotten SeattliteSattelite and over at MetBlogs, for about a year now. A whole year of blogging about food. That adds up to about a 2 posts a week, not bad at all. But really, what is blogging, other than a self-congratulation, and who doesn’t want to self congratulate all the time?

No, seriously, I started blogging because I told Jonathan Kauffman over at the Weekly that I wanted to be a food writer, and this is what he told me to do. To be honest, I’d hoped for like, I dunno, a job, but what I got was the advice to start a blog. And a year later, here’s the blog. On that note, however, I have started food writing, you’ll see my work in the first issue of WINO Magazine, about Washington wine in early June and on Seattle.net or its sister site Seattlefoodweekly, when it launches.

I hope to keep working and making it further, but in the meantime, I enjoy writing on my blog, and I truly hope that, you, darling readers do to!

On Vegetarians

I wrote this a while ago, when Taylor Clark’s Slate Article first ran, but delayed putting it up because I had just done ranting on people who don’t like food. So I waited, but in light of Herbivoracious’ comments from the vegetarian standpoint, I decided I should put up my omnivorous ramblings.

 

I read this article about vegetarians. I mostly, from an omnivores point of view, agree with what he is saying. I think living in Seattle, I run into far less of the rampant demands upon vegetarians to convert than he describes. In fact, I think most of my vegetarian friends only hear from ME that they should convert. And I’m only kidding (really, guys, I swear).

I hold a beef (Ha!) with the article in two places. Ok, three, because I want to reserve my right to always give shit to my veggie loving friends. I personally love tofu, and shock of shocks, eat a decent amount of vegetarian food when at home alone. Which brings me to my two issues: the part about eating at someone else’s house for a barbacue and the part about eating out.

When I invite someone to my house for dinner, for grilling, for anything, I’m volunteering to be the hostess. I’m signing an imaginary contract saying I will provide them with food. Thus, if I knowingly invite a vegetarian to my house, I know full well I’m obligating myself to supplying a vegetarian option, which, in my book, should be at least as interesting and exciting as the omnivorous options. This means two things–1) if you are vegetarian you might miss out on my best dinner parties, because I simply don’t have interest in preparing an amazing pork belly stew with duck stock braised greens for someone who will not eat it and 2) Don’t tell me “you shouldn’t have” after I make you something amazing and vegetarian because the fact is that I should have. And beyond that I probably enjoyed the challenge of coming up with a vegetarian option and enjoyed preparing it. You are my friend, my job, as hostess is to feed you food which will please you. So please enjoy.

My other issue with the Slate article was with his complaint about restaurants. This is not a problem I see just with vegetarians, but with picky eaters everywhere. To them, I say, if you don’t like the food, then don’t eat out. Yes, I know it sucks to sit at home with your microwave instant brown rice (oops, threw up a bit in my mouth remembering both that this exists and that someone I know said she eats this), but why come out and torture a restaurant with your endless requests for sauce on the side and none of this, that and the other thing. What a restaurant serves is how the chef intended it to be. If there is nothing on the menu you like, eat elsewhere. If you are lactose intolerant, don’t eat at a pizza restaurant and expect them to remove the cheese. If you are vegetarian, don’t eat at Momofuku and wonder why you can’t get a pork bun sans meat. This is, from working in the restaurant industry, my biggest pet peeve. Customers think they are always right, but you know what? They’re not. Chefs work day in and day out to make the best thing they can from a variety of perspectives: taste, flavor, price. That means you know why there are no tomatoes on your smoked salmon in May? Because the dish would go up in price. So when you request those, you give the chef this decision: cater to you and add it to your bill, thus recouping the money he would lose, or, because he wants to keep customers, cater to you and lose money on the dish, or thirdly, don’t cater to you at all, and risk your table leaving. Not a good choice. Why make other people’s lives difficult? We don’t walk into your office and try to switch up your filing system!

–End of previously written part

I got a little ranty at the end. Sorry. I really did like most of what he says in the article. I have no issue, fundamentally with vegetarians. Though I do wish people who eat fish or meat and still claim to be vegetarian would just admit “I don’t like meat” rather than pretend that it is in some way verboten. Oy, I can’t stop ranting! Ok, but my point was that Jonathan Kauffman has an article in today’s Seattle Weekly describing the various tofu factories in town. It was timely, as one is down the street from my house, and as I left it on Monday, I thought how sad it is that people think of tofu as a replacement food, for meat or for health value, instead of as its own wonderful food, irregardless of the way it is used. I think a lot of people say they dislike tofu because they are used to it as plain, cold in a tasteless wrap. That said, I think a lot of people who dislike meat would feel differently if they closed their eyes and were not told what a spoonful of raw chopped beef was–I’m fairly certain they would love it. People are strange about food, I guess is the moral of my story. I just hope that I can open eyes and encourage people to try new things that they otherwise thought they hated, be them animal, vegetable or soy bean cake.