A survey of Southern restaurants on a dime

Krystal - A fast food burger chain found in TN, MS, AL, and TX.  A "Krystal" is a hamburger slider (they only sell sliders) as pictured above.  They also sell fried chicken sandwiches and boneless wings.

Per Amanda, the burgers taste like they are boiled.  They are also paper thin and greasy.  She compared them most closely to McDonald's burgers, but smaller and having more onion.

I had the chicken bites.  They were passable, nothing special.

We did enjoy the fries, which were hot and salty in a very good way.  It was also interesting that they give you a number and bring the food to you at your table.

Menu amusements - Banana pudding milkquake, 1 crispy chicken salad hidden carefully on the menu behind pictures of chicken sandwiches

Jack's is another burger place located in AL, MS, and TX.  They also sell fried chicken with sides like green beans and mashed potatoes. There are also biscuits which come with either fried chicken or are made into breakfast sandwiches, and hand dipped ice cream.

The burger was unremarkable per Amanda.  I had the grilled chicken sandwich (the only thing I could find that wasn't fried or stuffed with butter).  It was actually very nicely seasoned, and pretty healthy once I took the mayo off.  

The fries were large and ridged and again well salted.

Menu amusements - British biscuits, which are not, in fact, cookies as one would expect, but actually are English muffins; Bologna, egg and cheese biscuit sandwich

Shoney's is a sit down restaurant featuring both a menu and a buffet.  The soup and salad portion of the buffet comes included with the entrées.  The buffet featured things such as fried catfish fillets, gumbo, clam chowder, salad, pudding, and the like.  The menu was classic American with some southern classics thrown in.

Amanda had the liver and onions with a huge pile of mashed potatoes and brown gravy.  She loves her organ meats and was well pleased.  I had a grilled chicken breast with rice pilaf which was acceptable and well seasoned.  The gumbo was good and a little spicy.  Unfortunately all the fruit on the salad bar was canned, but still a nice change from the entirely carbs and coffee diet we had been enjoying.

Menu amusements - none come to mind, but it was amusing when Amanda saw that there were milkshakes on the menu and yelled "MILKSHAKES!" then proceeded to order a water.

Mamacita's is a very good Mexican sit down restaurant which Glory and Don were kind enough to escort us to on the first day we were in Houston.  It features the traditional assortment of Mexican platters at decent if not excellent prices.  However, the slightly high cost was offset by excellent quality dishes. 

I had the chicken enchiladas with Mexican rice and refried beans which all had great, authentic flavor.  The rice was moist in a way that is atypical of my experience, and the beans had many layers of flavor without being overseasoned or spiced.  Don's mixed fajita platter looked wonderful, with juicy thick slices of chicken and steak accented by peppers and onions. 

Menu amusement - Amanda's meatless lunch platter came with what I will assume was a garnish of a fried tortilla in a cup shape, placed upside down and covered in canned cheese sauce - truly out of place on an otherwise authentic, tasty looking platter.

Menu amusements - all day happy hour on Monday and Tuesday, happy hour from 11a-7p every other day (they must all be very happy)

Mediterrano Market and Cafe is an excellent Greek restaurant down the road from Johnson Space Center in Houston.  They have all the classic Greek specialties plus some good wraps and salads.  There is also a great little grocery section with spices, grains, sweets, and other specialty items.

Veggie platter - L to R - falafel, hummus, domas, tzatziki, baba  ghanoush, tabouli (C)

I had the veggie platter lunch sampler since it provided the most variety for the lowest cost.  Having only ever had hummus before, I was eager to try out the Greek food.  Everything had great flavor, and I'm sure was an excellent representation of what it was supposed to be.  However, I was not a big fan of the vinegary grape leaves, the crunchy herbaceous tabouli, or the tart baba ghanoush.  I also snagged a taste of Glory and Don's moussaka ("say it again!"), which was pretty good, but which I would probably not like as much after I ate too much of the eggplant.

So, all in all, I'm glad I tried Greek food, but I don't think I'll be rushing back any time soon.

Menu amusement - in the grocery section, a bag of tea with brand name Amanda

Tiramisu French Toast and "Wrongology"

I've been kicking around this idea for tiramisu french toast ever since I woke up one morning with a vision of it after thinking about how to use up my mascarpone cheese.  I had a bit of a rough morning today, and decided this was the day to indulge in a high calorie breakfast treat.

I added strong coffee and Kahlua to the egg and milk dip for the bread, used a good quality french bread, and made a topping/stuffing of mascarpone beaten with a touch of milk, sweetener, and vanilla. 

Results were not encouraging.  The alcohol and sugar in the Kahlua took on a bit of a burnt flavor, and it was very under-sweet.  The milk in the filling was a mistake as it was too loose, plus it started to melt into liquid from the heat of the french toast.  I've considered some alterations that might alleviate some of the problems, but I think the heat plus soft cheese challenge may be the recipe's ultimate undoing, along with its adverse health implications.

I cooked this one all for myself, and was feeling just a little sad that it didn't come off well.  I missed the usual bolstering of others eating my food and trying their best to find the enjoyable qualities of it.  So is bad food an adventure best enjoyed with the humor of others?  

Later in the day, I stumbled onto a TED talk by Kathryn Shulz (described as a "wrongologist") called "On Being Wrong."  She talks about the need for us to get over the idea that we're usually right, the damage that this assumption causes, and the freedom that leaving it behind creates.  It struck quite a chord with me for many reasons, but for the purposes of this blog, I'll limit myself to the ones related to the french toast experience.

Ever since I came up with this idea a few weeks ago, it's been sitting on my brain with the vague accompanying impression that it would come out tasting good (why do it if not?).  I addressed in my mind the idea that it might not come out right, but I think the vague sense of disappointment I experienced points to that resolute little voice in my head telling me it would come out right, that it was a good recipe idea.

Shulz identifies the feeling of finding out that you were wrong as one of disappointment, embarrassment, etc. - all negative emotions related to being exposed as imperfect to other people, and to yourself.  While you might therefore think that being exposed to other people when my recipes don't live up to expectations would be embarrassing, this hasn't been my experience.  With a supportive audience, the negative effects of failure are minimized and positive effects even result.  This points to the power of positive feedback and focusing on success, the topic of a book I'm currently reading, Quiet Leadership by David Rock.

So, I thought I great tiramisu french toast was going to happen, but I found a great TED talk and wrote a good blog entry instead.  I think it was a good trade.

"Our lives are like this:  we think this one thing is going to happen, and something else happens instead."      ---- Kathryn Shulz

French Onion Soup and The Recipe Anti-Inspiration

Recipes annoy me.  I avoid using them because I think it takes some of the fun out of cooking for me. However, sometimes you just can't wing it on your own and expect good results.  Baking is the most obvious example of this but for some reason (probably just lack of practice) soups always perplex me too, so I decided that I needed to follow AB's french onion soup recipe.  If you want to know how it's made, just follow the link.  My only variations were a dutch oven instead of an electric skillet, and apple juice instead of cider (no cider at the Giant).

French Onion Soup

On several occasions after making and eating the soup, I sat down to write this blog entry about it, but remained thoroughly uninspired.  What did I learn from this experience, except maybe that I should add more beef stock if I make the recipe again?  It had a feeling of falling flat.  Then suddenly this morning it hit me that this feeling of falling flat is exactly where the reflection on how I learn and what excites me lies. 

Following a recipe is, at its heart, a different task intellectually, emotionally, and creatively than developing a new dish.  Now, developing a new dish is built on the back of years of experience with watching and making the recipes of others, but it is not the recipe of another - it belongs to the maker, the creator.  That deft pinch of kosher salt or splash of red wine vinegar, with its pedigree reaching back through years of experience and dedication, is a slice of artistry.  

The result of a recipe is food; the result of a new dish is art, for good or for bad.

When I create a recipe, I own all the decisions - good or bad - and am fully invested in every step.  If it tastes great, I can bask in the goodness.  If it's not quite right at first, I have the authority to step in and make it better.  With a recipe, I share the ownership - if it's too salty, whose fault was it?  Mine? - I just followed the recipe, or did I make a mistake?  Alton Brown's? - It seemed to taste pretty good to him on the TV show.  Who knows where the error lay - I just know I have mediocre soup.

If I serve a dish with some problems, I at least own the process, and more importantly have also completed a needed task of feeding the family.  This is probably the most important distinction for me about creative cooking vs other art forms like music or painting.  Mediocre food is still meeting a basic need for other people, and getting food is something I would have needed to spend time doing anyway, even if it didn't end up being as good or nutritious as what I did manage to produce, which at this point is never really horrible.

Now, to balance this perspective a bit, there can be a great deal of expression and room for creative modification in recipes.  But, for me, I find that the safety net takes away some of the fun and the challenge, which is ultimately why I cook.  To the recipe followers (my mother included) I say "enjoy! But don't forget to stray from the path once in a while."

 

“In 1896, when she [Fannie Farmer] published her Boston Cooking-School Cook Book, she for all time took a great deal of the fun out of cookbooks by insisting that recipes were scientific and not an artistic expression.....Every recipe was to be a formula which began with a list of ingredients.”
Mark Kurlansky, 'Choice Cuts' (2002)

 "I feel a recipe is only a theme, which an intelligent cook can play each time with a variation."
Madame Benoit

 --- From Food Reference

Serendipity and Cornbread Apple Tarts

A recent viewing of Alton Brown's french onion soup recipe on Good Eats put me in mind to buy ceramic crocks.  As such, I did some research and discovered that there are 2 restaurant supply stores in my area (Alton suggests visiting these stores for lower cost cookware options), and I visited them yesterday.  What meccas of culinary excitement!  There were spatulas and potato mashers over a yard tall!

I did finally find my crocks, but, having no onions or time to make the soup, I got to thinking of other ways I could try out my new toys.  Sudden visions of countless tartes tatin and clafoutis made in similar vessels came to me.  As I stared at my lazy susan, I came across a bag of cornmeal that was really too fine to be used for what I had purchased it to make (corn mush).  I thought, "I'll make a little cornbread."  But that seemed sort of boring, and lacking in the traditional fruit of the dishes I had envisioned. 

Soon, the two ideas elided, and it struck me - Cornbread Apple Tarts!  I quickly sliced an apple thinly, then sprinkled some brown sugar and spices in the bottoms of my crocks (for future reference, butter the dishes first).  I layered the apple slices carefully in the bottom of the dish, making them as pretty as I could , then topped with more cinnamon and a squirt of lemon juice.

The cornbread recipe was adapted from one on the side of the package.  I'll think of it as Quarter Cornbread from now on, and you'll see why...

• Combine 1/4 c each of corn meal, flour, and sugar, with 3/4 tsp baking powder.
• Combine 1/4 c milk, 1 tbsp oil (4 quarters, if you wish), and 1 egg (no quarters here, no matter how I think of it).
• Combine wet and dry ingredients.

 Pour the batter over the apples and bake for about 15 minutes, until the bread is set.

 

What does this recipe say about my learning?  It wasn't immediately apparent to me.  But I think it says something about the value, or at least the inevitability, of serendipitous convergence of ideas and events.  I doubt most people would have been motivated to create this dish to go alongside salmon and asparagus on Good Friday (perhaps with good reason).  But the combined experiences of the shows I've watched, the meals I've eaten, the perpetual presence of apples in my house, my mother's love of corn mush, and my love of Alton Brown all blended together into a little cornbread apple tart.  Which is quite a lot of symbolic weight for such a little tart, and so perhaps I've gotten carried away.  But if serendipity can make my dinner tasty, I think maybe it's what sweetens other parts of life as well.

In honor of serendipity, I'll share a favorite quote I just came across in a young adult book I just happened to start re-reading, since I ran out of other books.

"When I was little, I used to try to capture the colored light [streaming in through a stained glass window in church.] I thought I could hold it in my hand and carry it home.  Now I know it is like happiness - it is there or it is not, you cannot hold it or keep it."

 --- From Catherine, Called Birdy by Karen Cushman

On expertise and learning from mistakes through grilled chicken

You might think the combination of expertise and learning from mistakes is a bit counterintuitive, but the dinner I made last night might just prove you wrong.

It was a busy day yesterday with a tight timeframe for dinner.  I got home and found very large bone-in chicken breasts sitting in a puddle of Gazebo room salad dressing, and the gas grill preheating outside (in the wind) 1.  I had half and hour to make dinner out of this 2.

I threw some salt and pepper on the chicken (Gazebo room is fine, but no substitute for good seasoning), then decided to butterfly it to help it cook more quickly 3.  I threw the chicken on the grill and proceeded to now consider side dishes 4. 

Potatoes - washed and cut into steak fry-size chunks, and thrown into the microwave with a dash of salt, olive oil, and red wine vinegar for 5-7 minutes until pretty much cooked through.

  

Asparagus - Now, I started snapping the asparagus bottoms 5.  Having checked the chicken a few times by now, but not checked the temperature yet 6, I still had an idea that they were almost done, and I had raw asparagus before me.  So, I quickly boiled some water in a shallow pan and threw the asparagus in.  

Potatoes - while the asparagus partially cooked, I microwaved some butter, salt, pepper, garlic, and red wine vinegar in a small bowl in the microwave 7 then tossed this on the drained potatoes, which went out onto the grill.  By now, having checked the temperature of the chicken, I found it was not only cooked but slightly overcooked 8, so I removed it from the grill.

Asparagus - Now it was desperate.  I drained the asparagus, threw it into a pan, and tossed it with my usual olive oil, salt and pepper 9.  Then it went onto the grill.

Having flipped the asparagus and potatoes once, I removed them from the grill and we ate.  The chicken was bland and a little dry, but still edible, the potatoes were a little overcharred, and the asparagus a little undercooked.  It was also 15 minutes later than anticipated.

I think anyone can see the mistakes, but here comes the expertise.  Anyone, when faced with these obstacles (for more on the mistakes and how I'd fix them next time, follow the numbers above to the list below), could have produced a dinner that was in some way inedible, incomplete, or frustratingly replaced by take out.  Were my solutions perfect? No.  But did they make something we could eat and mostly enjoy?  Sure enough.  

That's what I like to call a certain level of expertise.  Coping with environmental pressures, curve balls thrown at you by others, your own accidental oversights, and all sorts of other issues and still producing a product that meets the needs of the group.  Now, I'm no cooking expert in any real sense, but I'm closer to being one than I've ever been before.  I know where I'm going, what it will look like when I get there, and I embrace the mistakes I make along the way as the stepping stones to getting there.

1. Grilling in the wind is always a challenge.  It lowers the temperature of your grill and makes it even more difficult to regain heat after opening the lid.
2. Considering the problem of #1, and the fact that I was working with large, bone-in pieces of chicken, half an hour was really unrealistic.
3. Butterflying a piece of meat covered in oil can be slick and therefore challenging.  Try to do this before marinating your meat.
4. Long cooking side dishes should be considered before starting to cook the meal.  At this point, I probably should have opened a can of peas or something.
5. This type of prep should really have been done while the grill was heating, or somewhere earlier in the process.
6. I usually rely heavily on my instant read thermometer to see how quickly my food is cooking.  This oversight was due to being in a rush.  
7. So, having microwaved this on high under plastic wrap for 60 seconds, it exploded.  I think 10 second intervals would have been better.
8. Chicken should be taken off the grill at 160 degrees F in my opinion (and most cooks).  Mine was already 170 when it came off.  Again, thermometer - earlier.
9. Several issues here - first, when blanching, the food should go into an ice water bath before proceeding further.  Second, it should be dried before being tossed in oil.  The water really impeded the asparagus' ability to brown and cook (the water steams and prevents the food from rising above the temperature at which water boils).

Simplicity in a late night snack

I love cheese.  The importance of this statement cannot be underestimated.

Such is this love that cheese plates and cheese counters immediately draw my attention wherever I go where good cheese is available and respected.  So, when I tell you that one of the most exciting things about the class that I recently took two hours away from my home was the campus' proximity to Trader Joe's, Wegmans and Whole Foods (far superior in cheese provision than my local Giant and Weis), you will understand that this is in no way an insult to the class, but rather a tribute to the cheese.

My favorite way to snack on goat cheese is ...

1. Smear a good soft goat cheese on a high quality water cracker (I like Carr's, and TJs makes good ones too).
2. Top with dried cranberries.

That's it.  The addition of step 2 recently really put it over the top as a favorite 'recipe.'

The fact that I can even recognize this simple combination as an actual culinary creation is a tribute to my progress in recognizing and embracing simplicity.  A dash of salt, a drizzle of honey, a whipping of the goat cheese - all of these are tempting, gourmet-sounding steps to me.  But I think the essence would begin to degrade when anything is added over the foundational cracker, the smooth, tangy, rich cheese, and the sweet tangy cranberry accent.  Just in the way that a well-crafted set of questions can say more than a chapter's worth of statements, some of the best food is about enjoying the simplicity of good ingredients.  And I'll leave it at that.

Braised pork spareribs/ Learning about control

As many of my dinners are apt to start, I pulled out a frozen pack of mystery meat from the freezer.  As it spun in the microwave on a brief defrost dance, I peeked in to try to guess what we'd be having for dinner tonight.  Pork spareribs (boneless?)!  It instantly hit me - braise them like I've braised Boston butt and beef chuck roast.  

Braised Pork Spare Ribs with Roasted Asparagus and Red Potatoes

Flavor profile - I decided to try for an Asian kick.  I recently was able to visit Trader Joe's, Wegman's, and Whole Foods for the first time in my life (what meccas!) and had come back with an assortment of Asian ingredients that I'd been pining to try.  After the pork defrosted fully, it started...

Dry rub for 3 spare ribs (caution - all my "measurements" are approximate, since I never measure anything):

• 3 Tbsp brown sugar
• 1/2 tsp cinnamon
• 1/4 tsp nutmeg
• 1/2 tsp ginger powder
• 1 tsp pepper
• 1 tsp salt
• 1 tsp garlic powder

Mix rub together and sprinkle on all sides of the pork, rubbing it into the meat.

In a dutch oven, heat 1 Tbsp of olive oil on high heat.  Brown the spare ribs on all sides before adding liquids...

• Equal parts low fat, low sodium beef stock, chicken stock, and water - enough to come 3/4 of the way up the spare ribs
• Zest and juice of 1 orange
• 3 Tbsp mirin
• 2 Tbsp tamari (or soy sauce)
• 2 Tbsp rice wine vinegar
• 1 small or 1/2 a large onion - sliced into chunks from pole to pole, so that they are held together, and peel removed
• 1 carrot peeled, or a handful of baby carrots, diced
• 1/4 c of raisins, rehydrated in 1/4 cup hot water

Cover tightly with a lid and put into a 300 degree F oven for 2 hours before checking them (90 min if your spare ribs are boneless, which mine turned out not to be).  I decided to put them back in for about another 30-45 minutes.  The key is that they are ready to fall apart when you touch them.  Mine actually fell into 2 pieces despite my best efforts, but it ended up making for a nice plating.  

Those who know me might be surprised that I've been able to handle my spare ribs falling apart in such good humor.  What I noticed during this recipe was that, unlike most areas of my life, I'm totally at peace with my recipe not going exactly as I had thought of it.  Maybe this is because, unlike a lot of things I do, I don't go into it with an exact concept of what I will get at the end.  Hmm... food for thought there...

Anyway, in the meantime, I boiled 6 red potatoes whole then allowed them to cool.  I cut them into chunks, then browned them over high heat in olive oil, salt and pepper.  To add some zing, I finished them with about 6 Tbsp of Gazebo Room dressing, but if you don't have that you could do equal parts wine vinegar and olive oil with a good shake of whatever herbs you like.

I also prepared my classic asparagus to roast in the oven after the pork was done.  Crank the oven up to 425 degrees F and put in...

• 1 bunch of thin asparagus (usually around a pound), snapped to get the tough ends off, tossed on a baking sheet pan in the rest of the ingredients
• 2-3 Tbsp olive oil
• 1 Tbsp kosher or sea salt
• 1/2 tsp ground black pepper

After about 10 minutes, check it.  If the bottoms are getting brown, shake them around to get the spears rolled over and give it another 5 minutes or so.  Watch that the tips don't burn.

While the asparagus and potatoes are cooking, put the dutch oven on top of the stove and carefully remove the pork.  Pour the liquid in the pot into a blender (or use an immersion blender) and blend until smooth then return to the dutch oven.  Get your tasting spoons ready to balance the flavor.  I ended up adding...

• 2 Tbsp ketchup
• 1 Tbsp rice wine vinegar
• 1 Tbsp brown sugar

So, truth be told, it didn't taste Asian-inspired at all.  Not even a little.  But it did taste like a rocking BBQ sauce with incredible depth of flavor.  So, letting go of the idea that it would taste Asian, I called it a success.  Now, to just let go of calling everything else what I want it to be in advance, and maybe I'll end up more content in my life.  Although, the contentment in this case may have come from the succulent braised pork at the end of the effort, which I can't say for most of my other life endeavors.

To anyone reading this, including perhaps myself someday, I'd suggest humbly that you either try braising some pork, or, probably more beneficially, letting go of some of the ideas about how things are going to go, and trying to be happy with whatever succulent or saucy goodness comes from them.