The Traveling Food Critic

Quantifying Myself

2011-11-13T15:35:00.001-08:00

A few weeks ago, I purchased a Fitbit. As you can see in its description on the left, it tracks one's activity throughout the day. Lest you call this a glorified pedometer, you might want to know that it also tracks sleep activity.

Yes, it will tell me what my sleep efficiency is given how long I slept and how many times I woke up in the middle of the night. As a skeptic, I was amazed at its accuracy. The first night I slept soundly through the night and was awoken only when Eric kissed me goodbye. The second night, I knew I woke up around 2AM a few times, and it accurately tracked that as well.

But the thing that I realized I most needed was, indeed, the pedometer. I've heard many times for several years that one should take 10,000 steps each day. I, for one, had no idea what that exactly meant, but I was sure I was close. Yeah, I work at a desk, but compared to others, I took the stairs to the 5th floor. I walk over to my coworkers' offices if I have a question for them. I'm the one who avoids the moving walkways in the airports, which I think are The Laziest contraption that has been created by society. So imagine my surprise when I logged a whole 3,000 steps by the time I got home from work on that first quantified day. I was truly shocked. So THAT is what I do on a daily basis without working out? And then I did what the Fitbit was meant for - I was motivated to get my sneakers on and I walked out into the cool, dimmed light of the emerging evening and I walked the Lina Walk - the route Eric and I take when he helps me "get healthy" that day. Unfortunately, even that walk wasn't enough, so I kept walking around the block until I got to 10,000 steps. So THAT is what it takes to get to 10,000 steps? Boy was I living in LaLa Land.

Two weeks later, I'm averaging about 8,000 steps per day and am working toward a 10k average. My key strategy is to make sure I take several walking breaks during the day so that I don't find myself at 7PM with a lot of walking to still do. And to make sure I stay on the bandwagon, they've given me badges for steps taken and stairs climbed. My next strategy is to start "friending" folks to create a leaderboard. I know I'm of the competitive ilk, and that would get me motivated to no end.

Perhaps in another month, I'll actually get motivated to log my food intake to really take quantification to the next level. But I've tried that before, and I don't last longer than a week. So the only solution is to wait for something like the Philometron Patch which is designed to calculate BOTH caloric output AND INTAKE. Now THAT is something I could get behind...

Korean ChamPong Makes Me Happy!

2011-09-18T17:27:00.000-07:00

As you know, I am on an epic quest for Asian culinary delights in Central PA. Although the area is one of the least diverse places that I have lived, and I have lived all across the country, I utterly refuse to believe that I should settle for anything less than great ethnic cuisine. And so the search continues, and today, I happened upon this little gem of a place, while Eric and I tooled around Mechanicsburg, also visiting the Wegman's. On Yelp it was described as a Japanese restaurant, but then all of the food described was Korean. Now, I've had my fair share of bad Japanese in the area, and honestly, I'm taking a break from my epic search for that cuisine currently. But Korean? The only Korean place I was aware of was in Lancaster at a diner called The Onion Cafe. It was decent, and I shunned it not.

It was only mid-afternoon. Eric and I had eaten lunch only a few hours before, so a Korean deep-dive wasn't an immediate desire. But we're almost an hour away from home, we've got a new place to try out, we shall not leave town without giving ourselves and this new restaurant a chance!

We walked into Spring Garden and were greeted by the Korean owner. She was extremely pleasant and had a bit of sass, which is always a good thing in my book. We explained that we would like to take the food to go but that we weren't going to eat until several hours later. And then I began to peruse the menu. Oh my goodness, they have JamPong, or Cham Pong, or Jjampong, boy I've seen this spelled differently anytime I've ever seen it. It's a spicy seafood noodle soup that was brought to Korea from China, so it employs the use of Chinese-style noodles. But the Koreans are known for their spice, and just as the Chinese everywhere is catered to local tastes, this version became spicier and spicier until it became, for me, a dish that I would consider decidedly Korean, but with the Chinese influence.

Yes, I am a fiend when it comes to noodle soups. I have found a noodle soup that I cherish in almost all the Asian cuisines. In Taiwan, it's the rich, dark, and sensuous Beef Noodle Soup. In Vietnam, the fresh, bright and light Pho. In Japan, it's the toothsome opulence of the Chinese-influenced Miso Ramen. In China, the spicy numbness and savory delectability of the Sichuan-style noodles. In Korea, it's the Cham Pong that makes my heart sing! One day, I'll round out the group with a definitive choice in Singapore, Malaysia, Indonesia, Cambodia, Thailand... I have a lot of traveling to do!

The last time I had a good one was about 10 years ago on the campus of Ann Arbor where I was getting my MBA. It's a little divey place called the University Cafe. Oh yeah, it serves Korean food. Whut? But the Cham Pong was great, and I've longed for it every since.

At the Spring Garden, I immediately looked up with wide eyes and a string of drool starting to hang out of my mouth. Cham Pong! We discussed how I could take it home without the noodles getting all gummy and nasty. Simple - she'll just wrap up the noodles and I could take them home and cook it there. She brought them out, and I was stupefied that they were fresh. Beautiful strands of noodles that were malleable and soft. So rare in some of my favorite places, and here I am. Fresh Noodles. Bodes well...

Fresh noodles are just so wonderful. They don't really have that hard core that dry noodles have that give them that toothsomeness we're all familiar with, as long as you're not overcooking the heck out of them. This is a different kind of toothsome - there's an evenness throughout the entire noodle that gives it a satisfying wholesome texture. These cook really fast, and as soon as it comes to a rolling boil again, it's drain time.

And then lovingly bathed in a splendid seafood broth that is balanced in its spicy savoriness. My singular complaint is that the actual seafood was rather parsimonious. I would have wanted big chunks of fish, some shrimp, fat mussels in lieu of the chintzy leftovers. That was the single aspect that left me wanting. But don't get me wrong. I still ate the whole thing.

Eric ordered Galbi - marinated beef short ribs that were tender, moist, and with that really great salty-sweet flavor that is addicting. Asked whether that Philly boy would prefer an Italian Hoagie or Korean Galbi, he refused to answer.

Of note also are the BanChan dishes - those small appetizers of spicy fermented vegetables. All of their dishes are made in-house, and they are delicious! Not as spicy as I would normally have it, but hey, it's Central PA, we want folks to actually be able to taste the food. I get that. But boy, if you're a spice monger, find a good kimchi in a larger city. It'll blow your socks off!!

Eric says I should write the Central PA Underground Guide to Great Asian Cuisine, or CPUGGAC. As I rethink that name, at least I now have the Korean checked off.

Spring Garden
5 South 35th Street
Camp Hill, PA 17011-4409
(717) 737-0238

2011-09-11T15:36:00.000-07:00

Taking a page out of Alice Waters' Chez Panisse, Maison's fare is simply prepared with mostly local and organic food, and the result is simply fantastic! It's quaint and cozy with a charming farmhouse decor.

But for as small as the space is, it can be disproportionately loud, so prepare for the "lean-in," with a hint of "ear-cupping." And it took a while for the servers to figure out who was taking care of which table, which was surprising since there aren't that many tables. Finally, someone came by and said, "Is anyone taking care of you?" Nope. Then they overcompensated, and when another couple was seated next to us, two servers doubled efforts and the couple got hear everything twice until the servers realized their duplicity. Devil is in the details, man. We all got a good laugh out of that, though, and the tone that was beginning to sour was reset.

And it got better all evening when glorious deliciousness came one after another.

We paid a $5 corkage fee for our BYO-2-liter-bottles-of-B. While I liked the flavor of each as a sipping beer, and both come from pretty stellar brewhouses, I found the pairing with the food awkward and remiss, relegating my imbibing to the good ol' backup - water.

I usually don't comment much on bread, unless it's memorable. The bread is sourced from MiLi's Bakery. Along with the sweetness of flavor, it's substantial, chewy, moist, yet airy. The salt flakes on the soft butter bring it together, and it's such a lovely and satisfying eat. And then you understand why extra bread is $1 per person.

We began with two salads, the French Country and the Octopus & Fennel. Both were flavorful and impeccably dressed. But the French Country was the more noteworthy of the two. You really can't lose with the combination of crispy lardons (i.e. little bacon cubes), crunchy croutons, and blue cheese. Yum! I do like the way it was made entirely with frisee. It's a really nice green, and yet I see people pick them out of a mixed green salad all the time because it looks like a "weed." Right. I'll take a weed over iceberg lettuce any day.

Entrees were Orecchiette Bolognese and the Roasted Heritage Pork. Both were tremendous. The pork was moist and tender with an exceedingly agreeable crispy skin. Combine a single bite with the creamy polenta, the sweet-sour play of the agrodolce, the toothsomeness and chargrilled flavor of the grilled savoy cabbage, and...rapture.

The desserts, while good, were like the Ringo Starrs of the evening spent with all the Beatles - a star that is eclipsed by better stars. New on the menu was a savory-sweet custard infused with bay leaves topped with a shortbread cookie. Upon first bite, you get that herbaceous hit that dissolves into a mellow sweetness, but the finish? Not so great. So what to say when the proprietor comes by to ask how it is? Honesty is the best policy, right? So I told her what I thought, and when she put it on trial with her own tastebuds, she said she agreed. Not sure if she really thinks that, but I applauded the creativity and I was really pleased that she was open enough to hear the feedback. Now that's a great neighborhood bistro.

As for the chocolate peanut butter dessert, the flavors were good, they were fine, and while I love the rustic idea of the mason jars, if there are layers of something, a deep jar just doesn't do it justice. The bottom held a crust that is almost impossible to get to without digging your way through to the bottom like a groundhog.

But let's put things in perspective. The food is fantastic. The servers are friendly, the owner is sweet, and we'll definitely be back.

Opposites Rule in Bentonville, AR

2011-09-08T20:02:00.000-07:00

On a recent visit to the world's largest retailer, I found myself on a plane to Bentonville, AR. Truth be told, I wasn't looking forward to it. Not only is it unquestionably inconvenient to fly between two small city airports, but it's not exactly a cosmopolitan mecca. Then again, I have a good friend who just moved there, so I was looking forward to a little gal time.

Our Girls' Night started with drinks at the very quaint and English-bar redux, Tusk & Trotter. The specials were playfully written out on a chalkboard, including this eye-catching cocktail - "Cucumber-Mint Gin & Tonic." After having come in from a sickeningly sultry 100 degree day, that just sounded positively refreshing. I'd also recently been introduced to Hendrick's Gin, which is uniquely infused with cucumbers and rose petals. My drink of choice lately has been muddled cucumber slices with Hendrick's and tonic with a nice wedge of lime. It's clean, crisp, cool, and I like it a lot.

So imagine my surprise when I got this.

Whoa, where was the nuclear meltdown? Umm. Did you run out of mint leaves? Ohhh, you use creme de menthe for the "mint" part. I stopped short of recommending that they should rename this "Scope Gin & Tonic." I finally admitted that I couldn't drink it, sent it back like one of those divas that I dislike so much, and ordered a BOTTLED beer.

All the while, my girlfriend is just shaking her head. There's nothing like a stereotype that totally manifests itself right before your very eyes.

Then we walked around the corner to a place called Table Mesa. This was redemption, baby!! We started with the Cheap Dates - Medjool dates stuffed with blue and cream cheese and wrapped in bacon. Delectable Yumminess! Then we split two entrees. First, the Korean BBQ tacos. The beef was moist and tender with a spicy sweetness that had a kick. Then the Seafood Paella special. Not quite like being in Spain, but the flavors were complex and balanced, and wow - I'm in Arkansas? The meal was capped off with the Key Lime - Tres Leches. I'm not normally a cake kind of gal, but I'll eat this kind of cake any day. Housemade cake is soaked in three milks (what kind of milk? Ah, I should have asked) and key lime and then drizzled with pureed fruit. It was mildly sweet, but the beautiful thing about this is that there was no way it couldn't be moist! When our server recommended it, I remember thinking, oh man, it's either going to be a soggy mess, or actually taste like a sponge. Fortunately, neither was the case, and I'm glad I took the cue from the server.

Lately, I've been thinking about the Rule of Opposites and how it almost always holds true. Here, indeed, it does.

Table Mesa

108 E Central On The Square

Downtown Bentonville

479.715.6706

On a Local Organic Mission

2011-08-27T12:02:00.000-07:00

I've talked about how Eric and I have turned into an Organic household. Now we're taking it one step further and trying to source everything locally, if possible. Get the freshest stuff just picked at the peak of ripeness and didn't have to travel thousands of miles to me in a freight train? We're in. And it can't be that hard, right? I mean, I'm surrounded by farmland. Turn left out of my development, and in one minute, there are cornfields. I'm thankful for this. With some of the best growing soil in the world, during times of economic hardship or war, I've read about how this area rises above it all because of its self-sustaining ability.

So a few weeks ago, I took a trip to Root's Market. Root's is the oldest family-run market in the county, originating as a poultry auction in 1925, which they still do. If for anything, go just so you can see this take place. It's such an experience if you're a city slicker. Naturally, I thought that if I need to find organic goods, this should be a gold mine!

Alas, as I roamed through the vast rows and rows of gorgeous, brightly colored produce for sale, I saw lots of "Natural" and "Home Grown" and "Local" signs, but nothing that said, "Organic" or "Chemical Free" or "No Pesticides." Whut?!?! So I started asking the stand attendants. "No, we spray," was a consistent answer. I respect the honesty, and everyone seemed genuinely sorry that they couldn't help me. At one stand, a customer next to me was ogling a beauty of an eggplant with its shiny purple skin. It was at that moment that I felt like I was looking at that alluringly beautiful red, shiny apple being sold by the old woman outside that woodsy cottage, and I shook my head, thinking, but it's poisonous...

Out of the 200 stands that are at Root's, much of which isn't related to food, to be fair, only 2 stands had organic anything. One was Chiques Roc Farm, the farm close to where I live. The other was a Spice shop. A little disappointing, as I trudged away with my empty canvas bags.

So what's an organic gal to do? Eric used the Social Network and trawled through the web to find these stellar markets.

Eastern Market isn't new to us, and now it's expanded into the corner block with free parking just a few yards past the market, in its old stomping grounds. All the produce is organic, beautiful, and very reasonably priced. Open on Saturdays from 9AM - 2PM, we also stock up on the many ready-to-eat stands that are there also - Nowal and her fantastic Falafels, Victoria's tremendously flavorful Kenyan fare, Awful Good and its panini sandwiches. Eric got their Cuban today, and it was crusty and full of great ingredients. Lastly, we grabbed some eats from the Puerto Rican stand today - pulled pork, yellow rice, and stewed onions. We take them to go and have some great sustenance for the rest of the week.

The Millersville Community Market is where we go when we need something on a Wednesday or need garlic. This is small, but growing, and I'm most impressed with the Promised Land Farm Garlic stand. There are so many varieties of garlic at this stand, and I got a really great education, like the fact that I (and probably you) have only eaten the Silverskin variety my entire life. The Promised Land Farm grows many, many more varieties sustainably and without chemicals. Lately, we've been enjoying the Siberian, with its spicy pungency and large cloves.

Troublingly, most of the garlic that's being distributed in the US is from China. And I don't know about you, but when Japan and Korea has banned food shipments from China, I hardly think it's safe for me to have in our house, either.

It was at this market that I discovered Ground Cherries. What the heck are these?! Sweet little tomato/berries that was such a wonder to me, I dreamt about them that night. I also had some of the largest, sweetest chemical-free blackberries ever. Delicious!!

Last, but not least, the Marietta Market, open on Sundays 9AM - 1PM. Unfortunately, it's been cancelled tomorrow morning because of Hurricane Irene, which is such a shame, because every other week, they have yoga in the park at 1:30PM, and I was really looking forward to tomorrow. When we went two Sundays ago, it was pouring rain. But a little of nature's growth serum isn't enough to stop us from supporting our local community. We just caught a vendor leaving with her chemical-free peaches, so we managed to snag some of the sweetest, juiciest peaches I'd had in a long time.

One stand was particularly impressive, with a broad variety of chemical-free produce that was robust and beefy. It almost prompted me to ask, "Are you sure growth hormones weren't used here?" In the meantime, someone poured me a glass of tomato-lemonade - pureed golden tomatoes with honey and a squeeze of lemon. Simple goodness that was bright and fresh. Just the elixir on a torrential downpour of a day.

These are my three go-to markets. They're close and give me great options three times a week. My vision for a Portland, Oregon of the East Coast? I think it's just playing Hide & Seek with me, and seek it out, I will...

Living Organically - Part 2

2011-08-13T16:51:00.000-07:00

I went to visit an old family friend, Lorene. She's a doctor living in Chicago who got into Eastern Medicine as a supplement to her Western training about 15 years ago, so she's a unique medical practitioner who balances both worlds. She founded The Whole Life Center in Lagrange Park, IL. I never remembered her as a kid since her younger sisters babysat me, so I figured she had to be at least 10, maybe 15 years older than I. But when I actually saw her again, I saw a woman before me who looked no older than 35, 15 years younger than she is biologically. That was the moment I was really sold.

I went to visit her because I have a mild blood condition that western medicine doesn't have a solution for. They say they'll jump in if the condition becomes critical. Really? Critical? And then the solution they have in mind has severe side effects. So it seems like a lose/lose situation all around. So my mom talked to her mom, and her mom talked to Lorene, and Lorene said there was a TON that could be done from the Eastern medicine point of view. She's a specialist in nutrition as the first line of defense, so off to Chicago I went for a session with "Weastern" doctor who looks at life holistically.

One of the main things that she recommended was getting more Greens into my diet. She recommended a book called Green for Life by Victoria Boutenko. Downloaded it from Amazon onto my iPad's Kindle app and was reading it voraciously the very next day. Isn't technology spectacular sometimes? Such a simple, old concept that in this modern day and age we've forgotten all about. The premise is this: we don't eat enough organic greens. Not vegetables, mind you, but the deep leafy greens that you've heard time and time again when you get into the mode of wanting to be healthy in your life, and then you don't do it. Why? Because let's be honest. McDonald's fries taste so much better! In Boutenko's book, she facilely outlines why greens are just so important, and if someone had told me that while he or she perfunctorily said, "Eat more green vegetables," I would have heeded the advice much more ardently. Boutenko's gig is to get the greens via smoothies. Blend it all together and voila! All the greens you're supposed to have!

Today, I ran to the local supermarket and for $20 got an organic smorgasbord of collard greens, mixed salad greens, swiss chard, green apples, bananas, and lemons. We've now switched almost exclusively to organic produce, and we're now purchasing grass-fed, free-range meat and eggs. Whoo hoo! We're finding that we're not buying as much food because organic is more expensive, but we're also not wasting as much. So our food bill evens out.

Into our Cuisinart went the whole lot of collard greens, 2 green apples, 1 bananas, the juice of half a lemon and 2 cups of water. And as I'm wont to do, I didn't follow one of the myriad of recipes outlined in the book and thought I'd wing it. Well, I didn't add enough water to the mixture and it came out all pulpy and fibrous. But it was my first time "drinking" it and I didn't know what the texture was supposed to be. I poured both Eric and myself a healthy glassful, and we sat there looking at each other as we sipped, and chewed at it like cows on the range. Not bad, I thought. At first. Upon reaching the midpoint, I looked up and declared, "I can't do this. I think I may throw up."

I went back to the concoction, threw in another apple, another banana, and 2 more cups of water. Alright, this is starting to look and taste more like a smoothie! Thank goodness for the sweetness of the fruit, I say.

But what to put it in? Eric had an empty beer growler hanging around the kitchen. Fair game. Lorene told me that I had to keep my body's pH in balance. Beer, she said, was acidic and if I could stay away from it, it would do my body good. Ahhh.... so if I can't drink beer, I may as well replace it with this!!

A glass a day is supposed to keep everything away. And this should take us a few days to get through.

I'd like to think we'll stick with this. Eric actually really loved drinking it, and he proclaimed, "I think this is more greens that we've eaten all week!" I'm sure that's true. So check back, and I'll let you all know how it goes. And wish me luck.

Beer is the new Wine

2011-08-04T10:17:00.000-07:00

We celebrated a friend's birthday at Baltimore's Brewer's Art. It's got four distinct spaces, giving me the initial impression that it just didn't know what it wanted to be. Through the main entrance on Charles Street, it's a good-looking bar with cool woodwork and high ceilings. The bright space then succumbs to its living room beatnik spill-over where philosophizing seems encouraged while lounging in comfortable and deep upholstered chairs. That space meets up with the maitre d's stand which shields a gorgeously classic dining area where a jacket could have been required if we were still living in that kind of era. But before entering that space, you could veer down the stairs to the left and find yourself in a completely different kind of divey dungeon where pub fare rules and the bathrooms are painted black and graffitied. So can you blame me for wondering what was going on?

We found some cushy chairs in the lounge as we waited for the others in our party. Eric got the sampler tray of everything they had on tap. As I made my way around their lighter brews for the summer, I'm going to just say it straight out. Despite the cool names like Ozzy, Resurrection, and Sublimation, they were disappointing. I'm of the Ommegang and Chimay Blue ilk. And if that's what you also like, you and I both would not be enjoying a pint of ANY of these.

So I moved onto their extensive beer list to peruse their "Guest Beers." They break them out by country, and the Belgians are broken out even by whether it's really made by the monks or not. No doubt these guys know what they're talking about when it comes to beer. It's just unfortunate that I couldn't get into their drafts. But we shall revisit the discussion of "their beer" in just a moment.

I chose the satisfying Tripel Karmeliet with its golden color and refreshingly mild flavor.

We were seated in that adoringly classic dining room with modern touches, and there was a sense of tentative hopefulness. I've been skeptical about places that purport to have great beer AND great food. In my broad experience of eating out, very, very rarely do the two meet in quality. Either one or the other is the king of the owner's heart, and you can tell. So we were hoping for the best, knowing that if it didn't work out, we'd have to celebrate that same birthday another weekend.

Alas, the menu was creative and inspiring, driving much table discussion as to what would maximize gluttonous pleasure. The appetizers were all winners. The opulence of the Roasted Berkshire Pork Belly over cornbread and a rich sweet-savory Bourbon sauce, the freshness and vigor of the watermelon, feta and olive salad, but the knock-you-off-your-feet Ceviche was unfortunately, not mine. The two glasses it was served in was combined en platter, and I don't recall ever having a ceviche with such a well balanced flavor. Most times, it's way too acidic, but here, the flavor combination is impeccable, as is the generous portion of the seafood medley.

I dare say the appetizers may have upstaged the entrees. Steak Frites was center stage with 75% of the carnivorous table ordering the dish. We'd read much about how great the dish was and how the Rosemary Garlic Fries were out of this world. I ordered the Pan-Seared Cobia, a nice, flaky mild fish that I would not hesitate to order again, but I'll admit that I was more intrigued with the Corn and Spring Onion Risotto. Decadent, with a creamy mouthfeel, it did not disappoint. The Steak, however, was met with less enthusiasm. High expectations combined with the fact that we've got game with a steak cooked in our backyard, and this was a table of hard-to-please customers. The fries, though, were pretty bangin'.

But here was the ultimate finishing touch to the meal, and it gets back to the trade of the Brewer's Art, and then some. Over the course of the meal, we enjoyed two of their brews in their liter bottles, in the same fashion as we would two bottles of wine. Both were fantastic, but the Green Peppercorn Tripel took me to another space entirely. Even upon sniffing the beer, you could smell it. Then sipping it, it's such an unbelievably clear flavor of specifically green peppercorn, I just couldn't get over it. And it was a KNOCKOUT pairing with the food!

This meal changed my mind in a few different ways. First, it's now my go-to example of a place that knows how to do both beer AND food well. Second, I'm gamely and solidly a new Ambassador of Beer as the new Wine in fine dining.

A Little Belgian in Laguna Beach

2011-08-02T13:45:00.000-07:00

Laguna Beach at Sunset in July

My parents live near one of the world's best beaches - Laguna Beach. For several years, I didn't take advantage of it for a number of reasons. I was there for Christmas. The place kinda shuts down during the cold season, even though it's positively balmy compared to the East Coast. Or I was visiting for only a few days, and everyone knows that when you only visit Mom & Dad for just a few days, every minute of every day shall be spent sitting at the table to eat Mom's home cooking with a face of rapture and plenty of "Mmm-ing," and to let them stare at you in wonderment that their long lost child has come home.

So imagine my chagrin when, after all these years, I actually spent a significant amount of time - all of 1 week - hanging loose in SoCal and being a bit of a beach bum, as much of a beach bum as a type-A business executive can be, that is, and discovered what I was missing.

Among the many decent stores, microbreweries and restaurants in the pristine beach town is Brussels Bistro. It's modern with clean lines, decidedly more California than Belgium, but that's of little significance when one savors what it can offer so much more.

The beer list is impressive, and the servers are experts, and I mean it! When someone can rap with Eric about beer and school him on a few things, the guy knows what he's talking about.

We were introduced to Kwak, and they have a special wooden beer holder for their beer. The Leffe Blonde was refreshing and mildly sweet. But you know, at a Belgian place, I expect that the beers will be stellar as long as they carry them in bottles. And if the place is located in the middle of a popular beach town, I don't expect much from from the food. I expect that it will be expensive and mediocre. Surprisingly, though, the food was very good, albeit quite expensive. I got the pot of mussels in the curry sauce. I couldn't believe how huge and succulent the mussels, the quantity served, and how divine the sauce. As someone who watches her intake of carbs, that curry nectar was so sumptuous that my intake of bread increased 4-fold to sop up that gold liquid.

The Steak Frites was excellent, as was the decadent gourmet Mac & Cheese. Holy moly that was good and I had more than just a neighborly taste of my friend's dish.

This is one place that I will be sure to revisit on my next trip home.

The Alibi Room

2011-08-01T11:58:00.000-07:00

Vancouver's Gastown District is charming with an old-town feel emanating from the brick sidewalks and boutique stores lining the quaint streets.

Tucked into a neighborhood just a little off the main drag is a hip little place called The Alibi Room.

In our quest for all things gastronomic, we came across this highly recommended restaurant known for an extensive beer list as well as for pretty good food. Of all the great meals that we had during our week in Vancouver, this was toward the top of our list. Extra points for their sustainable philosophy. Of course, the top of the list is like the results of a 50m swim meet in which the difference between first and eighth place is still less than one second.

Items of note: Everything, including the stellar burger Eric ordered and that I failed to photo because I thought, it's just a burger. But it's the Captain America (er, in Canada) of burgers. Perhaps that smoky onion mayo? Who knows...

The Wild Salmon dish was rich in mouthfeel and in Omega 3s, I'm sure. The roasted vegetables were notable, but not as much as the black rice. Black rice has been creating quite the buzz recently. It's also known as "Forbidden Rice" because back in China's heyday, black rice was set aside for the Emperor, forbidden to anyone else. High in nutrition, nutty in flavor, but still kinda expensive, I love the texture and the fact that my first actual eating experience was in this down-to-earth, progressive hangout for the hip and young in a developing area of Vancouver. This town rocks!!

But the surprise and delight for me that evening was the Free-range Chicken WINGS. That's right. Admittedly, I expected some Buffalo Hot Wings, being that I'm so American and naturally ethnocentric. These were crispy on the outside, piping hot, moist, and tender on the inside, and tossed in a honey, garlic, chili, and herb concoction that blew my mind in its utter simplicity. I almost drank the sauciness at the bottom of the bowl, it was so good.

Finally, the molten chocolate cake was truly molten, which is surprisingly messed up 50% of the time, but it was also more voluptuous than others, and Eric threatened to lick the ramekin regardless of the fact that we were in public. It was served with their homemade cashew brittle that was amazingly light and airy, yet solid and crunchy.

The Alibi Room - it's so good, it's criminal.

Guu-dness Gracious!

2011-07-30T11:47:00.000-07:00

When visiting Vancouver, one must bike along the Seawall. A dedicated bike trail meanders around the perimeter of Stanley Park and Vancouver's downtown. It's flat, and therefore perfect for any fitness level. But regardless of whether it's your first time on a bicycle in several decades or you're training for the Tour de France, the views are spectacular and the fresh cool air breathtaking.

Afterwards, there is no shortage of great eats. As we leisurely worked our way back to our hotel diving in and out of the number of boutique stores that decorate Robson Street, we found ourselves perfectly timed to begin waiting outside the doors of Guu, a Japanese Izakaya known as much for its Japanese tapas as for its wait to get in.

The moment the minute hand struck 5:30PM, the door opened, and the growing line of patrons were shuttled in and efficiently placed along the bar if you were a small party, and at a table for a larger group. All the while, the servers and chefs behind the bar are screaming "Irashaimase" or Welcome! to everyone who walks in. The reviews on FourSquare comment exhaustively on the yelling and noise, mostly negatively, but I rather liked that all the orders were loudly reviewed with the chefs. The hustle and bustle give the intimate joint a lot of energy, so what's with the desire to oppress it? Besides, the food is so good, who cares, anyway?

The beauty of a small plates restaurant is the ability to try out a number of different dishes. If I had my way, I would want all the restaurants to offer some kind of customizable sampler plate.

This is the Kabocha Korroke - Pumpkin Croquette. Kabocha is my favorite pumpkin because its flesh is so sweet and tasty that often times, people think I've added sugar. It's not a very attractive pumpkin, what with its warts and oft times misshapenness, but the flavor is unparalleled. The core is a hard boiled egg, and it's all deep fried to create a crispy shell. Sweet and savory, with a smooth texture offset by the egg and crispy shell. Lovely.

This is the Pork Cheek. Some might describe it as "tough," but that would misrepresent what I would rather call the toothsome texture that lends an interesting chewiness that I quite enjoyed. The flavor was outstanding and it was our server's favorite dish on the menu.

Speaking of chewiness, I also ordered a dish of Pork Intestines. Eric will eat anything once, and I appreciate that. So I can't complain when he doesn't want to take another bite. I did contest that the dish was quite exceptional versus other intestinal dishes I'd had in my life, of which had been many. He claimed that it tasted too... "natural." Interesting. Interesting that he can eat a plateful of Scrapple's "natural" flavor. I mean, if you think about what's in Scrapple, this is a pretty close cousin...

But the star of the evening was unanimous - the Miso-Glazed Black Cod. Oh, Black Cod. What would I do without you? It began as a second-class citizen in my life, a begrudging replacement to my beloved Chilean Sea Bass. But now, it's become quite a coveted menu item. And this did not disappoint. I'm sure I had much more than my half of it. A big part of what makes our marriage work is that Eric is remarkably kind about letting me eat more than my fair share of things in which I find particular enjoyment. What a guy!

Next time I go, I'm going to try one of their fried rice dishes, among other things. They accidentally placed an order of Kimchi Fried Rice in front of us, and I deviously wanted to feign confusion as to what we ordered so I could dig in. It's just looked so guud.

Battle of the Food Trucks!!

2011-07-20T18:50:00.000-07:00

It's Japadog vs. Mariscos 4 Vientos, folks!

Japadog is Vancouver's answer to merging the Japanese culture that is so prominent in the city to a good ol' American Favorite - the Hot Dog!

Mariscos 4 Vientos is in the heart of LA and has their own unique Mexican offerings. Which will win?

We had a sampling of items at each truck, but I will highlight the best items and pit them against one another.

So we start with the Yakisoba Japadog. All of the Japadogs start with the base of a plump and juicy hot dog nestled in a soft white flour bun. It's how they finish it off that adds the Japanese flair. In this case, Yakisoba is layered on top, much like one would with sauerkraut, perhaps. Yakisoba is Japan's fried buckwheat noodle dish. It's a classic, and I spent just slightly less time in the Yakisoba shops as a student in Japan than I did in the Ramen houses I called my second home.

Here, the hot dog rivals those of New York, dare I say, even more satisfying because of its sheer size and flavorful drippings that shoot out the moment the taut skin is broken by a diner's incisor slicing through it. And then it gets thrown down by the Asian intruder that seems to mollify the invasion and they both finally meld together into something uniquely, head-tiltingly, strangely as if they belonged together all along. A happy fusion.

Ah, but then there is this shrimp taco dream. I was hanging out in LA with my cousin Jake and his fam when he said, "We gotta go get this shrimp taco." My cousin is a sales guy in LA and he does a lot of driving around, and the dude likes to eat. I know, it runs in the family. So without a second's hesitation, we were off, picking our way through the LA traffic for a $1.75 Shrimp Taco that he insisted all along the way was unlike any other shrimp taco I had ever had. And indeed, he was correct.

Upon laying eyes on this smothered wonderment, I immediately thought, oh great, the whole taco is soaked in salsa. I can't STAND soggy edibles that should be crunchy. I was already slightly disappointed. Underneath the salsa was a layer of sliced avocado shingled atop the taco. And then there was this blackness on the inside. Boy, they sure did fry the hell out of this whole thing! And THEN I thought - how is someone supposed to eat this saturated mess?

I gingerly pinched the shell on one side and lifted, hopeful. Amazingly, the whole thing rose. The shell was structurally intact which promised a crispiness that I had written off. I took a bite and it was absolutely, sublimely crunchy, while the tender minced shrimp concoction delightfully seasoned the tastebuds with its fullness. Oh DANG this thing was good! The disappointment I initially felt was buoyed into sheer happiness and gastronomic satisfaction.

So which one is better? Eric would say he would rather go back to Japadog simply because it's so rare. But in reminding him that it's not about availability, but taste, he would still go with Japadog. I, on the other hand, was a hung jury as I thought about documenting this battle in my blog. However, as I write this post, I have an intense craving for Mariscos' Shrimp Taco experience. And so I must give it the edge for continuing to make such an impression.

A Tale of Two Meals

2011-07-19T19:26:00.000-07:00

It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. When it comes to meals, that is.

Our first night in Vancouver, British Columbia welcomed us to an impeccable meal that was fit for royalty. The space was Middle-Eastern gorgeous, and upstairs, you could even sit Moroccan-style on beds and lounge as you feast on the many delectable small dishes fanned out in front of you. Then again, I've always had a hard time eating a meal in bed, so we opted for a nice table that formed the divide in their expansive open window.

We began with cocktails, mine the Khira - Sapphire gin with muddled cucumbers and cardamom-infused syrup and fresh lime. A refreshing drink that disguised the sensuality of the cardamom.

Standouts were the Ahi Tuna over roasted brussel sprouts, cauliflower, bacon tossed in a mustard vinaigrette. That vegetable (and bacon) medley was so sickeningly delicious, screw the perfectly seared tuna, I say! The Grilled Octopus is also a scene stealer. Those of you who have ever said to me, "Oh, I don't like Octopus. It's rubbery," have never had the tender morsels of that sea creature done right, and boy do they do it right here.

The very next night, we thought, hey, let's kick back a little. Where to go, where to go? Yelp called out an Irish pub with stellar reviews and we went all in. Honestly, I barely even want to talk about it, because days later, I'm still feeling a wave of regret. It was so bad, in fact, that for the first time ever, I logged in a review on Yelp. It said,

"I don't understand the draw. Between the awful Guinness Stew, average beer selection, and ditzy waitress, I'm beating myself up for wasting a meal in my limited time in Vancouver. Okay, the hearty soda bread and decent Shepherd's pie make this meal slightly better than tragic."

In the 1973 short story The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas, the utopia found in that town is possible only because pure evil is concentrated wholly onto one pitiful citizen. Opposites must exist. And it does, indeed, in Vancouver.

Guest Blog: A Kiwi's Winter Stew

2011-07-04T15:49:00.000-07:00

From my Kiwi friend, Tim. As I happily sweat in the 80 degree weather here at my parents' house in Southern California, they are experiencing winter. But let's be honest - a quick look online as to what their weather is really like and it's still a high of 50-60 degrees. Please. :-) Still, a nice hot stew would be welcome during winter no matter where you are!

It's pretty well mid winter in NZ right now and for some reason when contemplating what one wants to eat at this time of the year the slow cooked stew seems to end up at the top of the wish list. There are a couple of things that you really do need in the kitchen before attempting this sort of meal. An oval cast iron le creuset dish with lid is really useful....and, despite the fact that slow cooking does make the ordinary taste extraordinary, quality fresh ingredients also help...

Ok so its Sunday afternoon and you want some comfort food for the Sunday evening meal.

Start by cubing 2 lbs of fine NZ grass fed beef (or whatever beef is available in Hershey), roll in flour and then brown in your cast iron casserole dish with a little olive oil and garlic.

Set aside.

Then gently make a sofrito by frying (very very slowly) a few (3) finely chopped onions, (3) grated carrots and (4) chopped celery stalks in a little olive oil and garlic, again in the bottom of your cast iron casserole dish. As you gently fry add some orange rind (no pith) , a couple of cinnamon sticks, a couple of bay leaves and some chopped parsley - season well with salt and pepper.... When you've finished this step the onions should be translucent and smell sweet....but don't worry if the celery is not properly cooked.

Add the browned beef. Add a US pint of beef stock and a US pint of decent red wine ( I use NZ merlot from Hawkes Bay - merlot is a much maligned but actually really good red wine).

Season well with salt and pepper then bring to the boil.

Then put on the oven for 3 hours at 350 degrees F for about 3 hours.

Once cooked let rest for 5 mins so the meat can absorb more moisture then serve on a bed of basmati rice with a side salad ....with another big glass of red wine......and a decent track on the stereo like the Tao of groove for example

Superb ....

Stir Fry for the Soul

2011-06-25T08:13:00.000-07:00

Last night, I had a rare evening to myself while Eric painted Camp Hill red with his buddies. As I relished the first moments of being alone in the house, I screamed my lungs out just because I could and then pondered what I should do that night. And it came to me in a flash. Stir Fry.

I've allowed my life to be a little too consumed by my work, both physically and emotionally. Physically because of all the travel that goes along with it. Emotionally because I am a tad of a Type A perfectionist who actually likes my job a tremendous amount, which will lead to bouts of insomnia for any reason ranging from stress to simply because I had a great idea on how to do one thing or another. What has suffered, among other things, is my first cooking love - Stir Fry.

My parents are Taiwanese immigrants. My first utensil was not a spoon or fork, it was a pair of pink pearlized plastic chopsticks that I could carry around in its little pink case with a cartoon panda adorning its front. I carried those around like a treasure. Even then, food was a passion of mine.

My mom was and is a Stir-Fry master. Anything could be stir-fried, I learned, and the wok was the tool of the trade. The saw to a carpenter, the paintbrush to an artist. Indeed, it wasn't until I was well into my 20s that I finally got a soup pot from a friend who was a little more than astonished to see that I heated up some Cream of Mushroom soup in my wok, and no, she wasn't Chinese.

"What's the big deal," I countered, "it still tastes good and I didn't spill anything anywhere, and if it were a Chinese soup, you probably wouldn't have said a thing..." Still, I appreciated having another pot for multi-dish meals.

Last night, I ran to the fridge where I had defrosted some sirloin steak with the intent to grill whole. Intentions were made to change. Some onion, some garlic, broccoli, soy sauce, satay sauce, hot sauce, any other condiment that tickled my fancy. Eric had brought in a bunch of cilantro from the garden in fear that it would begin to bolt. Perfect.

I sliced the sirloin at a bias to ensure ease of bite-ability and began marinating it some tapioca starch for tenderness and to help thicken the sauce later on, pepper, soy sauce and satay sauce and let it sit. Diced some vidalia onion, ran my knife through the cilantro, and I was set. I like to cook as if I were on a cooking show, where all the ingredients are already put into little bowls and just have to be tossed into the dish. It's not only so that I can feel like a star, though. In Chinese stir fry, it's actually quite important because things cook quickly at a high heat, and if the mushrooms are supposed to go in, but the chef is still working to slice or quarter them, the whole dish is at risk. Yes, it's that important...

Oil into the wok, heated until it starts to smoke. I threw in my favorite get from the Beijing market - Sichuan Peppercorns. It's also called the Flower Pepper because you can see how it flowers out by the time it's purchased at the market. It's apparently a sign of good quality. Sichuanese is my favorite regional Chinese cuisine due in no small part to the Sichuan Pepper. Its chemical composition is unique in that it leaves a tingling or "numbing" feeling in the diner's mouth. It's spicy and gives you a unique sensation that I haven't experienced elsewhere. Whenever you see a "Ma La ..." kind of dish, it translates into "Numbing Hot", indicating they're using Sichuan Peppers. Unless, of course, you're eating in Lancaster, PA at Tony Wang's, and I'm not sure they've included any kind of pepper period.

Then in go the onions, sauteed for a moment until they start to get translucent, then I throw in the beef. All that, alone, would be enough to satisfy me, but I always feel the need to get healthy and include vegetables.

Before the beef is cooked all the way through, I scrape it into a bowl to incorporate later. I need to cook the flash frozen broccoli and I won't risk screwing up my delicious beef and onions by keeping them in the wok. I season the broccoli as it steams until they're thawed and starting to get soft. I don't particularly like mushy, mushy broccoli, so I throw in the beef and onions sooner rather than later, toss in the cilantro, and stir fry everything together for a few minutes. By this time, the starch from the beef is starting to thicken the water from the broccoli, which is exactly what I want, because now the gravy is coating and seasoning everything evenly. Oh! And don't forget to add a bit of sugar to round everything out.

I especially like broccoli, even though it's not an indigenous vegetable in China - that IS why they have Chinese Broccoli... But I like it because it does such a wonderful job soaking up all the flavors in its bushiness. And voila!

Steamed some brown rice, ladled the stir fry on top, and I elatedly chomped away while watching a few episodes of Law & Order on Netflix. I just don't think I could have spent the evening in any better fashion.

Muriel's - Jackson Square

2011-06-20T16:09:00.000-07:00

San Francisco Airport Tip!

2011-06-19T15:39:00.000-07:00

Every so often my travel karma gives way to the roaming demons who, out of boredom, just want to mess with people. And then I raise my fist and cry disdainfully, "United!"

If you're flying from the West coast to the East coast, and anything, I mean ANYTHING, goes wrong, you're screwed. With the 3-hour time change combined with 6 hours in the air, the last flight out of the West coast is 3PM, with no chance of any connections. Harrisburg Airport has a lot of great advantages, but direct flights are not one of them.

On my latest flight out from San Fran to Dulles connecting to Harrisburg, my 1PM flight that would get me home by midnight was painfully delayed, and I knew I would be spending some pillow time in Washington DC, just as everything was closing down. They put me on an 8AM flight the next day. Total anticipated time at the hotel? A mere 4.5 hours. On a Saturday, to boot.

But IF you're going to get screwed, pray that it happens at the San Francisco airport because if you're lucky enough to be close to Gate 82, you can partake in wine tasting at Wine Wisdom to drown your sorrows away.

Thank you, Wine Wisdom, for allowing me to taste every single bottle you had open TWICE. Thank you for regaling me with stories of wine distribution. Thank you for making my 2 hour plane delay cum 10 hour delay to home more tolerable.

Everyone go by the Wine Wisdom and tell them I said, "Hi," and that I did finally make it back home safely.

Mr. B's Bistro - a Happy Mistake!

2011-06-17T14:59:00.000-07:00

One night there were a few of us who desperately needed to escape a *gasp* BAD MEAL. We were in New Orleans, and we found ourselves facing a buffet of turkey cold cuts, French's mustard, and a faux etouffee served on Uncle Ben's rice. Exactly. So we assessed the crowd, slowly walked backwards toward the door, and then made a run for it.

Out into the street we scampered like rats, scared that we might get caught, but finding it strangely exhilarating to be so free from the torment.

By the time we careened around the corner, we had picked up a few other stragglers along the way. Catching our breath walking down the street, all of us had our heads down checking our smartphones and various foodie sites to find our next culinary extravaganza. For just one moment, a couple of folks looked up and saw this dive of a place that looked to be a Gumbo place. This is a high risk, high reward type of situation, and it's not for the faint of heart. It's polarizing, which doesn't quite work for a large group of people, even if it means escaping grocery store deli meat. Not that there's anything wrong with that...

We all walked into the Bourbon House, and it was fine, a nice restaurant that looked like it could be on the corner of a popular street in Atlanta, or maybe Chicago, perhaps Sacramento... So an even smaller group decided to take the risk and backtracked back to the little divey Gumbo place. But then we walked in, and a pungent stink of death came upon us. If it hadn't stunk so much, we might have enjoyed the quirky atmosphere of every little piece of paper that had ever entered the place having been stapled onto the wall. Thankfully there was nary a soul there to even notice us, even though the place was utterly empty, which made our spin around less awkward.

Wandering down the block, we ran into Mr. B's Bistro. Its corner window emitted an inviting warm orange glow. We glanced at each other - why not?

Mr. B's Bistro is part of the Brennan Family restaurant dynasty. And as long as they keep serving up eats as good as this, I'm happy to methodically and systematically go to every single one of them.

The interior is rich and comfortable, yet I felt a little uncomfortable being so casually dressed, with dozens of beads adorning my neck. What a tourist. But they didn't mind. We swooped in and were seated immediately. Our servers were classically dressed and professional, but with a witty humor that brought levity to an otherwise serious environment.

For my appetizer, I ordered the Niman Ranch Pork Belly. I am powerless against the words pork belly. When I see it, I must have it. Add the words Niman Ranch, and it's like kryptonite. This particular dish was oven roasted with fig preserves and served with spinach and a nice crunchy crouton. Truly melt-in-the-mouth wonderment came over me. The fattiness lends a rich mouthfeel and a juxtaposition against the meat itself, and then throw in the sweetness of the fig preserve to counter the saltiness and this thing was cookin'! Too good.

And then came the entree. I went through quite a bit of indecisive agita on this one. Rarely do I see a menu where I would be willing to eat everything listed. This was one of those few times, and my discourse with the server was akin to a therapy session. "What do you FEEL like having tonight?" and "This dish always makes me feel really happy when I eat it" and "Nothing beats some good comfort food, if you ask me..." I finally followed my initial desire for true Southern Shrimp & Grits. The shrimp was wrapped in Maplewood Bacon and laid on top of creamy, sumptuous stone ground yellow grits. It's not healthful by any means, but when in the South, and in a wonderful restaurant, I have decided to forego the agita and always go for this dish. Can you imagine a PA Dutch version of this? I don't even want to talk about it.

At the end of the evening, we began rolling ourselves back to our hotel happy as a shrimp wrapped in bacon. Along the way we caught a whiff of some really sweet-smelling weed and hung around to find the source before realizing that we were not in the suburbs of Hershey, PA and that we should probably move along quickly. I slept soundly that night, counting free-range hogs...

All Hail New Orleans Oysters!

2011-06-04T13:49:00.000-07:00

Have you ever seen such an oyster? A raw oyster so large, it engulfs the fork upon which it perilously balances? An oyster so massive, it had to be bitten in two lest it choke the diner? I believe one can only find the monstrous quality of oysters such as these in New Orleans, Louisiana.

At the Acme Oyster House just one block off of the famed Bourbon Street on Iberville, there is almost always a line that crawls around the corner of patrons, both tourists and locals, awaiting the pearly flesh of oysters that have just been trucked in that day. If you wait until your fourth meal of the day, just 15 minutes before it closes, your chances are great that there will be no line, as we had come to find.

There was a fleeting thought about the risk of eating anything from the Gulf, but no one seemed to harbor those same thoughts. When I asked a local about it, he looked at me, trying not to roll his eyes, and said, "Girl, nothing is goin' to happen to you except that you'll miss out on some fine oysters..." Okay then.

A dozen raw oysters is a must. This is WHY I decided to partake in a fourth meal. I mean, it's not for my health, for goodness sakes. I embark on these occupational hazards for you, my readers...

They were surprisingly meatier than any other oyster I have eaten in my life. They were so delectable, I had a new understanding of oysters as aphrodisiac. People who believe it's a myth has never had New Orleans oysters. My dining companion actually closed her eyes when she ate them.

A dozen chargrilled oysters are a must. This is WHY... Okay, I didn't have these on my mind, but a quick trip to Yelp convinced me otherwise. These are topped with garlic, butter, and cheese, then chargrilled. The result is an over-the-top decadent luxury that borders on too rich. I could only have 4 of them before I felt the butter coursing through my veins and getting trapped.

Last on the oyster list is the Oyster Shooter - an oyster dumped into a shot glass with a squirt of cocktail sauce on top and then filled to the top with vodka. Skip this. It's not nearly as enjoyable and I almost wanted to hurl. I don't know if it's because I had already had too many oysters, but I don't really care.

At the end of the evening, we chatted with the staff who said that even though they are exposed to oysters everyday, they still love to eat 'em. I know what they mean; I feel that way about working at a chocolate and candy company.

A Strawberry Awakening

2011-06-03T12:13:00.000-07:00

I never loved strawberries growing up, and now I know why. The ones I grew up with came from the grocery store, might have looked nice and red... actually, nice and red for the bottom 2/3s which graduated into a white color at the stem... but tasted disappointingly sour. It was like being really excited to go out on a date with a gorgeous guy only to find that the person within was totally vapid and that conversation was futile. So can you blame a young girl for not wanting anything to do with it?

I recall being confused by the paradox. I mean, strawberries were heralded around me and by the media as being the fruit of the beginning of summer, a fantastic sweet that could replace dessert. Strawberry Shortcake was one of my favorite cartoons and dolls, and it was supposed to represent all things good. And yet, it tasted so marginal, so incomprehensibly empty.

Today, I stopped by the Chiquies Roc Farm near my house. The farm is run by an Amish family and is chemical-free. Tis the season of strawberries, and as I bite into these little ruby jewels, it's red all throughout and there's a sweetness that I have never experienced in a strawberry before.

Here's the criminal part. Until recently, I did not know that strawberries could be red throughout. It's so stupid, isn't it? I believed it could be red all the way to the stem on the outside, but that one would still bite in and see white streaks of what I know now to be unripened fruit with its big dry core. But it's what I grew up with, sadly, and every single strawberry I'd ever had up to that point met that criteria. It really begs the question of what our food system has become and what it has done to our ability to understand what nature intended food to be. Since we're already more than 80% urbanized in this country and this is projected to increase, even, I feel for the kids who will grow up just like me and never understand or appreciate the real essence of a strawberry.

So now I savor the juices of these ripe, tender, sun-warmed morsels of delight, and I think I might just have to go and find my Strawberry Shortcake doll. I owe her an apology.

Crawfish Boil in Lancaster!

2011-05-30T12:25:00.000-07:00

Do you know why I always preach diversity diversity diversity? Because of this, my friends. Because of this.

My coworker and friend, Joe, hails from the great southern state of Louisiana. For the past 4 years, he and his fellow Louisianan Will have hosted a real, down home, authentic Crawfish Boil, right here in Lancaster County. Ever since I have had the privilege of being on his invite list, we hadn't been able to make it. The crappy thing about it is that we can't quite remember WHY we haven't been able to go. Obviously the alternative events weren't very memorable. So only today have we realized what we have been missing.

They started the cooking festivities at 10AM for a 4PM eating time. By the time I showed up a little past 4PM, most of the crawfish and shrimp were marinating amongst themselves and keeping each other smokin' hot in the plastic coolers. But they still had one last batch, and I'm glad to have seen it all go down.

Just as deliciously fun as the food is the process itself. Joe and Will order the crawfish live from LA and pick it up from the airport. So this is the real deal, not some sickly crawfish that might have been farmed upstate. These suckers are big and strappin'. Like the Andre the Giants of the Crawfish World.

Start with washing off the crawfish. Apparently they can come rustically in its own habitat, so mud and any other stuff that I don't want to know about hitch along for the ride. Brilliant use of the kiddie pool, guys. Apparently some of these little doo-dads don't make it all the way to their culinary destination. Some get crushed and others meet their demise. How can you tell? They should be curved and if they don't curve back up, but stay stretched out, then... they're dead. I love how all seafood has their little way of telling us humans that they're not to be consumed.

Will put this entire batch into a colander large enough to house them all. And that's a big a** colander. But look at the pot it fits into below. Enormous. It looks like Joe could fit into that if he really wanted to. So big only a paddle will do.

Simmering in that big pot is gallons and gallons of water seasoned with all sorts of wonderful cajun spices. They used pouches of ready-made seasoning that made itself into a broth that was rich and flavorful. Tastefully pungent with the cajun kick you would expect, and then the complex layering that comes from boiling fresh seafood in it all day long. I asked what they would do with all that goodness at the end of the day. Criminally, they said they would pour it out. Understandably, it was all hard work; they were soaked in sweat and once the event crested from its gastronomic climax, they wanted little to do with it all anymore. Shame, really. Next year, I shall bring plenty of plastic containers in which to fill with the rich stock that have the makings for some really excellent stews and soups during the winter months. Why not revisit the Summer Boil event months later?

At the very end, the vegetables go in. Red potatoes first, then followed by corn, mushrooms, whole onions and Kielbasa.

And then they get chucked on top of the crawfish and shrimp. What a great system - Craft paper are wrapped atop the tables and it's all splayed out for folks to share and grab at.

Of course, the first question is - how does one really eat a crawfish? A quick lesson given by Will and Joe, and I shall combine and condense this to pick out what I deemed to be the best method. Twist the crawfish to separate the head from the tail, do a quick suck on the head to imbibe on the tasty juices. Pinch the tail longitudinally to compromise the tail's structure. Peel off the top two sections of the tail, pinch the tail at the very end to separate the flesh from its bottom attachment, and pull the tail out. Voila! Tasty little tiny lobster-like tails. I thought I was groovin' it pretty well until Joe came by and he showed me how an expert does it. He jammed through those crawfish like they were potato chips. It was truly a sight to see.

The shrimp were especially flavorful after having been boiled in that wondrous concoction. But do you want to know what the scene stealer was? The corn.

The corn had the most amazing ability to soak up all the juices. The natural sweetness of the corn juxtaposing against the saltiness of the broth, the spiciness of the cajun spices, and truly, it should win the Supporting Actress role of the event. As we all Mmmmed our way through the corn, Eric said, "The corn is so good it makes me weep." True that. In fact, screw the winter stews and soups. I would keep the broth just to boil the corn in it all summer. There isn't another way I'd like to eat it from now on.

Ah, Joe and Will. These Louisiana Dudes really know how to throw a party. The Lancaster County Start of the Summer Crawfish Boil is already marked off on my calendar for 2012...

Last Night's Dream

2011-05-30T07:46:00.000-07:00

From karmacrandall.blogspot.com

The tan interior was amazingly like a car's. Smooth leather with wood trim and styling that was modern and clean. But I found myself sitting in a seat that was single in width and the second in two seats, one behind the other, much like how it might be fashioned in a cockpit. All I could see was the black cap of the pilot sitting in front of me. I didn't recall feeling any discomfort, even though it seemed rather cramped in quarters and I have never been able to sustain being in a small confined space without an emerging feeling of nausea creeping over me quickly and completely. And yet, sitting in that cockpit was quite comfortable and I felt calm.

Take off was easy and uncomplicated, despite all the trees surrounding us, and when we broke the tree line, I gasped at the glorious view. Vivid bright blue sky engulfed us, for the front of the cockpit was made entirely of clear glass that made it seem that the pilot sitting ahead of me was floating. The clear glass stopped when it got to me, but afforded enough of an unhindered panoramic view. And then I noticed that there was no sound. The loud droning of a commercial airliner was completely absent, and there was utter, absolute silence. There was no speaking between me and the pilot, and we enjoyed a ride full of loop de loops, dips and turns. The plane was agile and quick, and I laughed uninhibitedly and with full delight. Crazily enough, I recall getting my iPhone out to make sure I took pictures of everything.

Then the pilot dipped so closely to the ground I could see details of homes and expressions on people's faces. On one property's lawn, the wreckage of another plane, a pale yellow antique like the kind that the Wright brothers would have flown. "That plane went down yesterday," the still unknown and unnamed pilot said. He landed the plane on the road and suddenly we were viewing the wreckage from across the street. It was on fire, but the fire was almost invisible. Pale orange and yellow flames that were noticeable only because of its flickering movement and visible heat emanating hotly from the wreckage. Curiously, the wreckage wasn't charring. It was a pale yellow and orange fire burning atop the pale yellow plane. The fire burned into a clear and clean smoke that was faint and immediately evaporated as it rose into the beautiful blue sky. "It's still on fire!" I exclaimed, "Do you see the fire? It's barely visible!" The pilot only said, "We have to go."

He taxied away, and as he turned right onto a busy road, I realized we were in a vehicle that was the cross between a Smart car and a Mini Cooper. Then, using the road as a runway, we began to liftoff, much to the amazement of the others driving on the road. Across the median, a small car going the opposite direction was so distracted it lost control and flipped over in a violent crash. "We better go across the street to help them," the pilot said without emotion. He skipped back down to the road and took the closest exit.

When we deplaned, news had quickly spread that the driver and passengers were able to climb out of the car and that everyone was okay. I could see just barely above the heads that indeed, someone was unfolding their way out of the car unharmed and brushing off the debris.

And I found myself in a shopping bazaar. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It was crowded, people were bustling and parting around me, and I noticed the closest store to me was an average shoe and purse store with its wares on display outside a door that was only about 3 feet tall. I ducked and entered and it opened up into an entirely banal, unextraordinary store. At quick scan, the merchandise was simply nothing special, and in fact, the styles seemed outdated, rom the 80s or 90s. Then someone said they were having a massive sale, so as all frugal people do, I started to look more carefully. And before my very eyes were beautifully modern shoes on the shelf that still didn't display themselves noticeably - one had to look specifically at them to notice. Amazingly, everything was in my size, and I delighted in trying them on. A pair of boots with incredible detail and uniqueness in styling - the 2-inch heel was fashioned such that it extended from the sole of the ball of the foot and extended past the back of the foot.

And I heard my cousin Andy behind me say, "Have you been here this whole time? I've been looking for you for 2 hours." I turned around and saw that he was wearing the pilot's cap. I continued to shop, only now my cousin Ken had joined us and he was helping me gather the sizes I needed.

Finally, the store was closing, and Andy said, "We really need to go." I thought about the logistics and had no idea how all three of us were going to fit into the carplane, but I didn't have a single worry about it.

And then I awoke. And for the first time in several weeks, I had slept completely through the night and had had a very cool dream to boot.

Boston's Beehive

2011-05-23T10:18:00.000-07:00

The Beehive is right next to my cousin's pad on Tremont and Clarendon in Boston. The space is ultra hip with cool art adorning the walls and long sweeping drapes that give the high ceilings the drama it deserves.

Ultimately, though, all the theatrics only matter if the place is worth going back to. I, myself, will have to take a long, long break from the Beehive, not because it's not worth going back to. On the contrary, it's so fun and lively that it engendered a night out that I am no longer adept to occasion in my aging disposition. Want to know what took me over the edge? This right here.

Our bartender was attentive and hardly steered me wrong all night. The duck dish was well prepared. It had that delectable crispiness to the skin, the flesh was exactly medium rare, who doesn't love rice soaked in meat juice, but the plum sauce... I was craving the plum sauce to be just a tad sweeter to balance the savoriness of the dish. For that alone, I can't say it was fantastic. Too picky? Maybe. But you know what WAS fantastic?

This right here.

Yes, getting back to my original point. After my meal accompanied with a small glass of Paulaner Witt Bier, I was a happy, happy customer. But then I, my cousin, and his partner decided, hey, let's just stay for one more drink. Just one more. So I turned to my charismatic and helpful bartender and said, "I think I can trust you to just make up a drink for me. I like sweet and sour, that's what you get." He said, "I have just the thing for you..."

Apparently it starts with the Aviation as its foundation, but takes out the Creme de Violet, and replaces it with Aperol. Add some Lillet and finish it off with a Champagne float and voila! Here's the drink of the night that was appropriately named the Little Lina. I'm sorry that's not helpful in your ordering the drink in the future at all, because you see, it's likely named the Little Shannon or the Little Natasha at this point...

But I care not, because this was the most delicious, most fragrant, most balanced cocktail I had had in a long time. It was soooo delicious, fragrant, and balanced, that I found myself drinking THREE of them.

If I have the opportunity to return, I shall tell them to call this the Little Lina With A Big Whopping Headache the Next Morning. I'm still not sure I've recovered adequately enough to do so...

Beehive

541 Tremont Street
Boston, MA 02116
(617) 423-0069

Other Houston Call-outs

2011-05-22T10:08:00.000-07:00

I may have eaten at Treebeard's disproportionately given the number of total meals, but hey, good is good and I can appreciate that.

But here are a few other standouts:

Vic & Anthony's steakhouse brings it. Perfectly cooked medium rare rib-eye served on a piping hot plate as a shallow lake of butter surrounded it. Their wild mushroom side is excellent and so is the Smith & Hook Syrah that paired righteously with the steak. If you're on a budget, though, this place may break the bank...

If Vic & Anthony's breaks the bank, then this next meal can be paid for out of your kid's piggy bank. Houston has a network of underground tunnels throughout the downtown area, presumably for the exact opposite reason Minneapolis has skyways - because it can be so dangerously hot in the summer, who can blame someone for not wanting to go outside? Fortunately, it's not just scary and dungeon-like. Their lined with quick eats for those busy bodies on their way to the next big thing.

One day, I decided to take a break from Treebeard's and opted for some good ol' comfort food - Chinese Dumplings. A quick look at Yelp led me to the Star Chef Dumpling House, which I was even more inclined to patronize when I found out the owners were from Taiwan. My parents would be proud!

I ordered a mix of pan-fried pork dumplings, seen on the left, and the steamed pork dumplings on the right for $5.95. The pan-fried dumplings were stellar. The skin was thin and crispy, the meat concoction in the middle was savorific, and I wished I had an entire order of them. The steamed ones were fine, but they didn't blow me away, and I can beat those at home. I still haven't quite figured out how to perfect the pan-fried dumplings now that I won't make them by hand anymore, so these were a great stop gap.

Vic & Anthony's
1510 Texas Avenue
Houston, TX 77002
(713) 228-1111

Star Chef Dumpling House
930 Main St, #240
Houston, TX 77002
(713) 659-5600

Houston - Things really are bigger in Texas...

2011-05-21T11:19:00.000-07:00

Oh, to be home again. After two weeks away, I was starting to feel at home living out of a suitcase, and I really hate living out of a suitcase. But if that's happening, it also means I'm having some pretty terrific meals.

It's been decades since I've been to Houston. I recall some family trip down there to visit some family friends as a 13 or 14 year-old, and I definitely remember having a crush on one of the sons. He was tall and dreamy and 16!

Anyway, on the plane ride down, I solicited a foodie conversation with those around me. I just can't help myself, and most of the time, everyone else wants to pitch in with their opinion on the best eats of the city. Of course, during the conversation, I dump in questions like, "Yeah, is that like the salad at Olive Garden?" or "how does that compare to the steak at Outback?" because I need to assess where they are on the food critic chain. When they say, "Hmm, that's a great question - which is better?" I pretty much let go of any mental note on anyplace they've mentioned. If they say, "Seriously? Olive Garden?" I know there may be a tastebud match.

In that little discourse on Houston Eats, I heard Treebeard and Pappa Deux's for Cajun, a few places for steak, and more than plenty of places for Tex-Mex.

During my seminar on Strategic Foresight with the University of Houston which was held at the downtown Magnolia Hotel, they mentioned a church across the street that had some pretty good cajun. So without much prodding, several of us headed over. What a clever way to use a church during the week. Great home cajun cooking that fed the people of downtown Houston during the week at way cheap prices, and I'm sure that helps to pay for the soup kitchen work they do along with helping to subsidize the church. I like the mind of these people!! The best part was after I paid for the meal, which was served cafeteria style, the receipt said "Treebeards" and I was so delighted that the Gourmet Food Fairies had led me to this gold mine without a second thought.

And when I say the Cajun was great, it was!

This is the fantastic Shrimp Etouffee that was a tad fiery, lusciously rich, and with a complex flavor. I had this over dirty rice, rued the fact that it had a few too many celery stalks, but was overall quite pleased. This dish was all of $6.95. Incredible!

And then nothing was as sweet as these watermelon cubes served with lime and mint leaves. I had never done much to dress up watermelon, but after going to a Greek restaurant a few years ago for some Watermelon & Feta salad, I was hooked. This is just as good a combination of flavors, and I can't imagine not having watermelon with a squirt of lime atop anymore. The combination, along with the mint is so refreshing, inviting, and satisfying, I can't believe I wasn't introduced to this before. But hey - better late than never...

Flying United's Friendly Skies

2011-05-19T17:06:00.001-07:00

So you all know i fly a lot. I mean, 80,000 butt-in-seat miles all around the world in a year is a lot, I dare say. So when I tell you I have just deplaned from one of my more enjoyable flights, and it's a domestic one, I'm really talking about something special here.

On my way from Boston Logan to Washington Dulles, I was treated to Captain Ed's Talk Show in the Skies. For a scant 10-15 minutes, Capt. Ed gave all sorts of fascinating tidbits of information about our flight, about the Boeing 757 with a price tag of $80M we were flying in, about what it's like to be a pilot and just how useful is auto-pilot, anyway?

Entertaining and educational, a great combination, similar to peanut butter and chocolate, I learned these little gems:

We were cruising at 30k feet, which is 5 miles above sea level. At that kind of atmosphere, the plane can overcome friction and drag to fly efficiently. Any lower, and we would have required twice the amount of fuel to slice our way through the thick air.

Speaking of fuel, 10,000 pounds of fuel was being spent on the short flight. But those who are concerned about their carbon footprint need to know that the flight was burning the equivalent of 8 gallons of fuel per passenger. If one were to drive from Boston to Wash Dulles, they would need to beat 65 mpg. Now, I just bought a new car. Even the Toyota Prius driving only in the city can't reach that metric. Granted, this assumes that there are no other factors that feed into the carbon footprint. Those who know better can school me on this, please.

Cruise speed was at 540 mph. That's 9 miles per minute. That's as fast as a bullet shot from a handgun.

The pressurized cabin is equivalent to being 5,000 feet above sea level, which would be like being at the Denver airport. Why not sea level period? Because they would have to build the airplanes as if they were airtight tanks, and that just gets a little too heavy and expensive to fly around.

Touchdown occurs at 150+ mph. Gives me a whole new appreciation for a smooth landing and all the tire marks on the runway, which are not unlike the rubber marks I left on my driveway with my Big Wheel as a kid.

Winding down, Capt. Ed invited folks to say hello and visit his "office" up front. Conveniently, I was sitting in the first row, so I had quick access. I sat in his chair and touched "stuff" whatever button or gauge they might have been.

As I exited the aircraft, I heard others tell him how much they enjoyed his audio tour. In a time when it seems that all airlines are interested in is saving money and nickel and diming passengers to death, i was surprised and delighted by the fact that there was a little something given back. It wasn't expensive, but it was meaningful and differentiated from just about any other flight I've taken recently (okay except for the first class flight with Singapore Airlines. Thats hard to beat). It was engaging enough that I took notes as I listened and laughed out loud when he challenged those who thought pilots were unnecessary because of the auto-pilot function with, "someone has to turn the seatbelt light on and off..."

Thank you Capt. Ed and crew. You were pleasant, entertaining, and got us to IAD early. It makes me actually look forward to my next flight to see whether any other surprising adventure lays in wait for me.

Buddakan FEVER

2011-05-07T19:47:00.000-07:00

This is the FEVER cocktail - with pomegranate juice and jalapenos amongst other things, like a hard alcohol. It's delicious - slightly sweet with a lingering heat that you savor seductively. This can be had at the Buddakan, but I hope you have a cocktail dress to go with it and someone who has some sway because it's hard to get into the Buddakan, especially if you have a party of 6. Fortunately, my gal pal is incredibly resourceful and knows the "it" guy. And that's all it takes. To know that one "it" guy.

Buddakan is a beautiful space that's beautifully decorated, yes the inanimate objects are nice, but I'm talking about the pretty people. I was wearing what I thought of as my Manhattan outfit - a hip little number - until I walked in and people were dressed as if they were going to the prom later that night... expect they were clearly in their 30s. And suddenly, my hip little number felt more "nice" than anything else, and the only comfort I could take was the fact that my shoes were comfortable and theirs weren't, so there.

As far as the food goes, it's modern Chinese, and it's absolutely good food. The Edamame Dumplings are truly special - I was not expecting an edamame puree, but when it oozes from its rice wrapped shell, it's decadent, flavorful, and not to be missed. Their cod is expertly prepared, but I've had some pretty amazing cod in my lifetime - see my post on Seattle's Steelhead Diner. And in fact, everything else is disappointingly familiar. It's not disappointing because it's bad, it's disappointing because I'm fairly certain I've had that dish somewhere in California or a big city Chinatown, only it cost me a quarter of what Buddakan was charging.

To be fair, the Buddakan versions were delicious and every single dish was beyond reproach. But the real question is whether you would rather have a 10 in flavor and in cost, or whether you're willing to have an 8 in flavor for a 4 in cost. Is that a good tradeoff? Okay, okay, so there's the Hollywood atmosphere and the stellar service. How to account for that? I mean, when you eat in Chinatown, let's be honest - you're lucky if you get a server who doesn't look upon you with scorn and serve a dish with his finger in the food. So what is that worth?

And then I go back to the FEVER. Ahh, for that alone, I would go back to the Buddakan.

Monica's in Boston

2011-05-05T17:46:00.000-07:00

Jeff - this post is for you.

That incredible meal we had in Boston a few years ago? You know, the one where they make their own pasta still? The one in the North End where it seemed like it was in the alleyway? And is so tiny that we had to shimmy our way through the place and then when we got to our table we could barely fit? Yes, the place where we shared two gnocchi dishes - the best one being sweet potato gnocchi with sage, broccolini, and sausage. Yeah, I remember that the gnocchi was soft, but with great texture and a sweetness from the sweet potato that went so well with the bitterness of the broccolini and the saltiness of the sausage. I might be imagining it, but I think they added some red hot pepper flakes, or that could be my own addition because that's what I would have done.

And then remember that we had the San Michel Montepulciano that we all said we would split a case if I could find it? I searched for weeks, and I couldn't find it anywhere. I still remember its earthiness and how well it went with everyone's dishes. It was one of our last meals as a Reese's team. How could I forget?

Monica's.

Schweinhaxe!!

2011-05-03T17:41:00.000-07:00

Yes, of course, this has something to do with a pig. Schweinhaxe is German for the pig knuckle or ham hock, in other circles. This particular one can be had at the Liederkranz, and if I were you, I would run there with lightning speed to have it. As you can see, it's quite a nice size. The meat is so flavorfully tender, it falls off the bone. There's no need for a knife, you can just pull it off. It's hot and moist, the gravy is thick and savory. The red cabbage is authentically sweet and sour, and the carrots... hmm. The carrots, I don't quite remember blowing my socks off, but boy do they look nutritious!

Like I said, I would run there with lightning speed, only you can't really go in there because the Liederkranz is an exclusive club. They give members keys to get in. I was lucky enough to be the guest of my pastor who isn't German, but who has such a great affinity toward the country and who is such a wonderful person, that they let him become a member.

In addition to the rustic, inexpensive meals served in a rustic, but homey outfit is the GOOD and CHEAP beer! They make their own beer that is quite good, and had pints of incredible beer, like Ommegang Hennepin, available for $4. Whuutt?!? Gimme a key!

I've learned that in order to be a member, you must have passion for German culture, sponsored by two members and you can't be blackballed. Soooo, I have a German last name and I love German food and beer. Do you think they can look past the fact that I'm Asian?

Easter Pops

2011-04-24T11:01:00.000-07:00

My father-in-law is in town for Easter. I call him Pop, Pops, George, Cranky George, or Jorge, depending on the situation. When Big G comes over, you never know what's going to happen. Discussion could go from jovial to Cold War in 10 seconds flat. Laughter is rampant and tears may also be shed, but that usually only happens after several beers. It's lively, never pedestrian, potentially angering, but hey - we're family. One thing that's also for certain - there will always be good food.

Pop is quite a good cook. We have envisioned a line of foodstuff called Cranky George, and I know just the logo that will go with it. George often has a goading smirk that's well-masked as a smile, but I know better. It comes out when he's just made a comment that he knows should get under my skin, and he's waiting, hoping, for an overreaction on my part. I used to take the bait, but I've gained wisdom in the years...

So Pop said he'd take care of two of three dinners of Easter weekend - both of them family classics. The first was roasted clams. I insist on soaking the clams in fresh water to purge the sand that they may still harbor. The first time I suggested this, Cranky George said I was wasting my time, and so we sopped up deliciously grainy clam soup - wonderfully garlicky and briny, with a light crunch brought forth by sand to offer a unique texture. I never listened to him after that...

We soaked, purged, threw in a roasting pan with 2 bulbs of diced garlic, tablespoons of butter, and a good healthy pour of white wine. At one point, I was dicing one bulb of garlic when Cranky George looked at me and said, "Do you think we need more? Is there such a thing as too much garlic?" I responded, "I don't think anyone has died from a garlic overdose. Let's do it." And it turned out to be a perfect amount and no one died.

Roasted at 400 degrees until the little guys opened, and they went straight to the table to be savagely consumed by three ravenous foodophiles. Wonderfully garlicky and briny, without the light crunch of sand, and we were in clammy heaven. Except that upon looking at this picture, I wish I would have tossed it with parsley which was sitting all lonely in my fridge and some red pepper flakes. Oh well, no sense crying over underused seasonings.

George also makes his own bread and has become quite adept at it. Here, he made whole wheat bread and rolled them in sesame seeds. Do these look professional, or what? They were brought over half-baked, and we browned them up in the oven with the clams. Crunchy on the outside - you know, the good kind of crunchy - and soft and fluffy on the inside.

So kudos to Pops! Tonight, we partake in his ribs specialty. He's in the kitchen now, working on the collard greens and crankily making a mess, I'm sure. But wisdom has also told me to not go in there and look. I wouldn't have it any other way.

The Glass Lounge

2011-04-18T18:08:00.000-07:00

At the salad bar in the company cafeteria, a friend started talking about a rumor of a dive bar in Harrisburg that had these really huge, delicious steaks that were super cheap. Steak, you say? Cheap? And the scheming began. Should we just go for lunch one day? No, too far. Perhaps a happy hour? But the folks in the office are highly flaky about large invites and it never garners serious attention. So we went back to the basics - word of mouth and viral marketing. Get a few to commit, and voila - a party is born.

The Glass Lounge is north on Front Street and reminded me of those roadside restaurants you'd drive by on your way to a small town on a getaway weekend from the bustling city to go fishing. Like in Northern Minnesota. Who knew it was just down the street from the Capital of Pennsylvania? But it's exactly that dynamic that makes it so interesting when you get inside. Truly, you walk in and it is quite the dive bar as it was described. But then you see plenty of folks in their suits and ties, and you realize you must be somewhere special if the suits are blending with the proletarians.

I ordered the Delmonico, otherwise known as the rib-eye, medium rare. I find it to be the best combination of juiciest, tastiest, moistest, tenderest cut available. Yes, it's also the fattiest, but where do you think all that flavor comes from? 23-24 ounces for $21. I think. Okay, I admit it, I don't quite remember, and the website says $19.95 which I'm pretty certain is out of date, so yes, I arbitrarily picked $21. It might have been $23. But I would be lying if I said I absolutely knew.

Each steak comes with potato and salad. I hope you like carrots because that's all you can really get to for the first 15 bites before you start to see some greens that you can dig into. I remember thinking that if this was the size of the salad, I was really excited about the size of the potato! Alas, the potato is fairly normal sized, but cooked to that perfection point of soft and malleable to the diner's touch. Ever since I was a kid and saw the server at the local Ponderosa cut my potato open and squeeze it from the side to make it look all fluffy and wholesome, just like on the print ad, I was hooked and I can't help but do that to every baked potato I have the pleasure of having in front of me.

And then the steak came. Look at this gorgeously crusted monstrosity of a slice of cow. It was so impressive that after I took my first picture, I rued the fact that it looked quite average given the enormity of the plate it sits in. I joked that I needed a dollar bill to demonstrate its actual size, and when I looked up, there was the crisp face of George Washington ready for a portrait with a side of beef.

My favorite part of the ribeye is the outer "collar," for lack of a better term. What is that called, anyway? Anyone? It's that part that surrounds the middle and is extra marbled and tender. So I started in on it. As beautifully browned as this looks, I have to say that it was a tad oversalted and substantially undercooked. Medium rare? It was still practically alive. But no matter, after a few bites of parts that were cooked to order, I took it home and pan-fried it to medium rare perfection, and it served a few more meals beautifully.

I also took home all the mushroom and onions on top of my coworker's New York Strip. For some reason, he was thinking there would be a few choice slices of portabella mushrooms sitting atop with some rings of onions. I can blame him for thinking there would portabella, but I can't blame him for thinking there would be just a few. But remember the carrot salad? They have the same philosophy with the mushrooms and onions. Still the flavor was good, if not for the super-sized portion. And talking about super-sized portion, his New York Strip was absolutely enormous, spanning the huge platter from end to end. And dare I say they did a masterful job on his medium rare steak. Perfectly cooked, perfectly tender.

As I drove the hour-long path back to my house in Lancaster, I concluded that the Glass Lounge does, indeed, have some great steak. Is it less expensive than other places? Yes, it is. But I know of a place that rivals it and is more conveniently located. It's called My Grill in My Backyard. I'm taking bets.

The Glass Lounge
4745 N. Front Street
Harrisburg, PA 17110

717.255.9919

Trio - our neighborhood bar & grill

2011-04-10T15:01:00.000-07:00

Oh yeah. When we decided to buy a house in the suburbs, my fantasies of walking down the block to the corner bar for a great meal and drinks were dashed. But a few years ago, Trio moved into a location close by. Granted, there's no walking down the street, but there's a quick drive down the street, and let's be honest, that's so much better than long drive into the city for something cool.

When we first moved, it was called Ye Olde Springhouse, or something like that. It was also before the smoking ban, so the place was always filled with a smoky haze that I didn't like so much. Then it turned into an Italian place called Rugantino's. We went there once, and only once. Ahem. Then it turned into Trio, with its cool sign and upgraded vibe.

I didn't expect much the first time we visited, which was 2 years after it had opened. I had had such a disappointing experience with Rugantino's at the location that I was in no hurry to try that place out again. But I was altogether pleased when they had several great microbrews on tap, and their food was absolutely solid. They took the typical bar food and slightly gourmandized it so that it was familiar and yet unique and differentiated from the typical fare you'd get around town. Their sandwiches were great, their salads were great, their wings were great... I think their wings are the best in the city. I like to mix the hot and sweet chili sauces together because combined, there is so much more complexity and deliciousness. The best part is that even years later, the portions remain large and their pricing remains reasonable.

They have specials every day of the week, and on one Tuesday, Eric and I were too lazy to pop anything into the microwave - if that isn't the definition of lazy, I don't know what is - and we found ourselves on Prime Rib night. I thought I'd give it a try. Everything had impressed me up to that point, so why not? For $10, look at this massive slab of meatlicious cooked to a perfect medium rare. Granted, the part on the far right was awfully fatty, but combined with caramelized carrots with a nice sized baked potato, where else can you get all this food for $10?

In the meantime, their beers on tap are always stellar. Dogfish 90 minute IPA, Seven Gates, Franziskaner, come on! A pint of Seven Gates is $4, or maybe even $3.50. Eric gets a the Dogfish 10 oz serving and one of the two are either $4 or $3.50 Either way, I say, where can you find these regular deals nowadays?

I love this place. There are two servers, and they are efficient, friendly, and can rattle off all the many beers they have without skipping a beat, and they take care of everyone without a single hitch.

Please come and patronize Trio! I'd like to make sure my neighborhood bar is here for a long, long time.

3707 Marietta Ave
Columbia, PA 17512

717-285-0888
www.triobarandgrill.com

Tipsy Pig

2011-04-09T15:01:00.000-07:00

San Francisco is filled with a myriad of great restaurants and watering holes, but how can you not go to a place that has this emblem welcoming you in? The Tipsy Pig has the atmosphere, knowledgeable bartenders, and good food that is unrivaled by many places.

The one thing that was most apparent at this locale is how knowledgeable all the bartenders are in both the beer AND wine realms. My general rule of thumb is that I shalt not drink wine in a bar, unless it's a wine bar. In Central PA, that has served me very, very well. California, though, is wine country, and for goodness sakes, if you drink anything alcoholic, you shall know about wine. So when my friend took me there on our wine crawl, the long-haired bartender immediately set off my alarms and I was sure I would be getting a beer. That is, until he started talking about the wines in such depth and thoroughness that I was sure I needed a glass of wine, instead.

On the food side, what shall be served at the Tipsy Pig but a whole lotta pig? The pork sliders were quite good - moist pulled pork on sweet hawaiian bread, but they weren't so especially better than ones I'd had at expert BBQ places. The Bacon Mac & Cheese was rich, but not too rich, creamy, but not too creamy, was fatty, but not too fat... okay, it was quite fatty, but come on now, bacon makes everything worth it. Lastly, the Sweet Potato Fries. Some of the best I've ever had.

Guest Blog: The Kiwi Goes To Thailand

2011-04-04T17:45:00.000-07:00

Oy! In my travels to the Mexican Pyramids, I met a very fun Kiwi. For those of you who just thought, what's a Kiwi? A Kiwi is the nickname for New Zealanders. Anyway, my global travels have slowed down quite a bit, but his have continued to ramp up. I am now eating vicariously through him. He just toured his way through Thailand, among a few other Asian countries, so here is the first ever, but hopefully not the last, guest blog. From my friend, Tim:

Those of us who live in the West (like the USA or even NZ) like to think we have access to the world's cuisine on our doorsteps but it's not until you travel that you realise the 'authentic' Mexican, Vietnamese or Italian restaurant down the road from home serves up the culinary equivalent of a street market copy watch - it's a far cry from the real thing.

Taco Bell does not serve Mexican food, Pizza Hut is not an Italian restaurant and it's a safe bet that the bland glutinous noodle dish you think is Pad Thai supplied by your local 'authentic' Thai restaurant is not the real deal either.

The other day I was lucky enough to experience the real thing at 'Patara' in downtown Bangkok. This joint is Thai dining at its best - it serves up authentic Thai with a capital A.

The secret of all great authentic Thai cooking is the subtle balance between sweet, sour, spicy and salty flavours. Even in sidewalk street cafe's in Thailand you'll see bowls of salt, sugar syrup chillies and lemon (or lime) juice on the table - our version of salt and pepper. Patara's upmarket version of the same was sitting in the middle of the table in little pottery bowls - available just in case the chef hadn't got the balance to ones liking.

After a mouthwatering array of Thai finger food 'starters' like duck wrapped in banana leaf and cooked with cane sugar and lemongrass, or a type of Kaffir Lime leaf heaped with four specially prepared condiments (again sweet, sour, salty and spicy) and then eaten like a wonton, it was time for the main event.

A never ending stream of Thai dishes appeared one after the other. The whole fried bass with lemongrass and honey sauce melted in your mouth. Green chicken and red beef curries started slow and then rose to a crescendo like exploding fireworks. The Tom Yum Goong soup packed with shrimp, mushroom, lemongrass and chillies was an exquisite blend of delicate flavours backed by an orchestra of chilli while a traditional green vegetable salad called pak boong (which should have been called pak BOOM) was one of the hottest dishes I've ever tasted with an aftertaste that remained for several minutes afterwards.

It was hard to single out the highlights but the Pad Thai deserves a special mention - garnished with carrot, a type of lemongrass, limes and peanut and bean sprouts the shrimps were to die for and noodles perfectly blended with the egg and spicy sauce in a way which can only be described as precise...manna from heaven!

By the time dessert arrived I thought things could not get any better. I was wrong. The sticky mango rice dessert was to die for..I have never tasted such a unique blend of flavours - the sticky rice was wrapped in a banana leaf and lightly salted but was also flavoured with a hint of honey and coconut cream wrapped in a banana leaf. The slivers of mango were succulent and as smooth as silk again sitting in a subtle coconut cream sauce. You eat it by taking some rice on your fork then adding a piece of mango letting the unique blend of flavours express themselves in your mouth...it was nothing short of heavenly.

My advice....add an authentic Thai dining experience to your bucket list...and if you are ever in Bangkok, Patara is a very good place to start

What do you reckon...mouth watering yet?

Parking Lot Movie

2011-04-03T18:18:00.000-07:00

Sundays are lazy days, and after a nice brunch at On Orange with my good friend Angela, we headed back and proceeded to Netflix our way through the day.

Last movie of the evening - The Parking Lot Movie. It's a documentary that tracks the comings and goings of a solitary parking lot in Charlottesville, VA called the Corner Parking Lot, chronicling the lives of the attendants who work there. They range from professors to philosophy students with one thing in common - they all have brilliant takes on the humanity they see coming through that parking lot gate. By the end of the movie, you love them all in one way or another. At the end, they make a video and then you understand why.

I loved it. As the Trends Guru - I see it becoming a Cult Classic.

www.theparkinglotmovie.com

Umami - San Fran

2011-04-02T09:52:00.000-07:00

One of the things I considered a "must eat" in San Fran is the sushi. The day before my friend Shelly came into town, I tried to fit that in because I wasn't sure what she'd be in the mood for. Alas, the two places near Cow Hollow was open only for dinner, and I was needing a lunch place. Imagine my indescribable pleasure upon learning that Shelly's one food desire was sushi.

So on Saturday night, we hightailed it to the aptly named Umami at Union and Webster to sit at the sushi bar with nary a thought to the radiation possibilities. I guess being so far away from the Japanese disaster has given me a safety bubble in my mind, and besides, unless I know the fish was coming from a port near Sendai, wouldn't it be just a tad weird to worry only about the Japanese place?

Anyhow, my expectation for California sushi - not to be confused with the California Roll - is super high simply because Californians should know better. And Umami did not disappoint. It's got a groovy, hip feel to it, the bathroom has an ultra cool sink in it, and above all, the sushi is delicious.

We started with the Edamame Hummus. My, my, is this good. All of what makes the Garbanzo bean version delicious - the garlic, spices, smooth, yet chunky - is here, only it's soybeans. Granted, probably GMO soybeans, but I like the twist here. I shall make this the next time around, substituting the garbanzo in my favorite hummus recipe.

Upon ordering wine, I dare say that I do love a Gewurztraminer pairing with sushi. I get this wholesome and earthy flavor that is only detected in my nasal cavity. Just like how Umami is that esoteric "other" flavor, this is similarly hard to describe, but I know it immediately when it happens. I also get this pervasive earthiness when I pair it with a Sapporo beer. So imagine my disappointment when Shelly says, "I don't like sweet wines..." and there goes the Gewurzt. There was, however, a Gruner Veltliner that I have begun to play around with the last several months. It's drier, but has a reputation for being a good food-pairing partner. And hey, it's the same general vicinity of the world as a Gewurzt, so let's go with it! I'm happy to report that it is, indeed, a nice pairing with sushi, and the pervasive earthiness that I enjoy so much was present.

And here is the Chef's Omakase Sampler of Sashimi. Omakase is a Japanese term that basically leaves it up to the chef. At Umami, it's a good compromise of 1/2 knowing what you're going to get, and 1/2 SURPRISE!! The great thing about this is that you end up trying new varieties that you may have never gotten on your own. Yeah, I always get the Yellowtail, Salmon, etc. But I wouldn't have thought to get the Ocean Trout, which is third from the right, looking suspiciously like Salmon. It had a nice, firm texture and had a sweetness to it that I had not tasted elsewhere. It was excellent! Equally excellent was the Uni - Sea Urchin, which I also call my Sushi Dessert. If the Uni is good, I want that to be the lingering flavor on my tongue when I leave a sushi restaurant all fat and happy. At Umami, it's super fresh with that wonderful brininess that I have grown to lust after the moment I walk in. Shelly, that brave soul, gave it a good ol' college try, and while she didn't love it, at least she didn't give any kind of face. I really do appreciate it. I still say that it takes about 3 times of "trying" Uni before something clicks and you become a Pavlov's Dog. Some people never get there, though, and it's okay. As long as you don't make a face while I - the Uni Luminary - am eating it rapturously.

2909 Webster Street
San Francisco, CA 94123
(415) 346-3431

Osha Thai on Union

2011-03-25T14:44:00.000-07:00

After arriving at my friend's house, who lives in a most stellar location, I was hungry and had visions of yellowtail sushi dancing in my head. Alas, the aptly named Umami by her house is only open in the evenings, so I did what any modern woman would do, I turned to Yelp. It indicated there was a decent Thai place down the street, and that's where I went. Never mind that my girlfriend had just told me about no less than 10 different places I should go to. No, I was on my own, and I wanted Asian. Yelp did mention that Osha was a chain, and I wasn't digging that little tidbit of information too much, but I'm willing to bet on anything Asian on the West Coast, so in I went.

It was a modern space with clean lines. I was seated next to the window. San Fran had gone from dreary rainy and windy to a beautifully sunny day, and I was glad to have the sunshine on my face. First up, the Osha Tartare - fresh, sashimi-grade tuna mixed with mango, cilantro, and bean sprouts, dressed in a sriracha sauce. It had a nice amount of heat, but boy, this thing was sweet! Otherwise, I really liked the combination of flavors. The "chips" that surrounded the bowl are those "shrimp chips" that I have despised every since I was a kid. You can buy a box of these at the Asian grocery store. In their original state, they look like thick little plastic pieces. Then you throw them in boiling oil and they puff up immediately into this styrofoam-looking thing. The process is very cool, but only as a science experiment. Not as food! However, this time, I did break off a little piece to see if the combination would be any good. It's like a bad cracker, and yes, it made the tartare less sweet, but I'd rather have less sweet tartare and skip the science project all together.

Now, all the tips on FourSquare were talking about the Volcanic Beef. My lovely server said that was, indeed, popular and quite delicious, but that she recommended the Grilled Sea Bass on top of a bed of spinach, bok choy, and shiitake mushrooms with a cilantro and lime sauce. Okay, I said, let's go with that.

I assumed that we were talking about any Sea Bass other than Chilean Sea Bass. You know about my forbidden love affair with Chilean Sea Bass, how I adore the fish's buttery flakiness, but because it's overfished and on the brink of extinction, AND it tends to have high levels of mercury, I don't partake in it. I usually ask, but I'm in San Francisco, for goodness sakes. It's a place where if you are drinking from a plastic bottle, everyone gives you dirty looks. If you throw it into the wrong bin, I'm sure they arrest you. So of COURSE no one serves Chilean Sea Bass, right? Wrong. It came out and I looked at it in all its splendid glory and my heart started to hurt. Ugh. An awful mistake that made me secretly joyous because what was I going to do, send it back??? I mean look at that beautiful portion of fish. It was expertly made, with a slight crust on the outside and as flaky and buttery as I remember on the inside. Paired with the bright tanginess of the cilantro-lime sauce, this was a super duper dish.

I had ordered coconut rice to go with it. What's with all the coconut rice here? But whatever, I'm all in on the coconut as a stellar super-good-for-you natural wonder, and I've been looking for ways to ingest it more without totally going overboard. Here, they had mixed in shreds of the coconut meat to give it a very organic tasting flavor. At first, I was thinking it was overpowering the fish dish, but I quickly got over it and really enjoyed the melding of the flavors.

2033 Union St

San Francisco, California 94110
(415) 567-6742

Burma Superstar - San Fran

2011-03-24T22:09:00.000-07:00

I adore San Francisco. I love its diversity, its views, its healthful lifestyle, and all my friends who live in it. Last night, my friend Eileen took me to Burma Superstar in another little Chinatown area that has popped up in the city, or rather, sprawled. I told her that I was sure it wouldn't be as good as the Burmese in Central PA...

It's a quaint place that feels warm and welcoming, and as I looked around to what other people were eating, there was not a single thing I didn't want to eat. And as friendly as San Franciscans are, the woman who was sharing a meal with her daughter next to us, offered to share a taste of their food to facilitate our decision making. I was kinda floored by the generosity. Later that night at another bar called the Tipsy Pig (how can you not like a place with a name like that?), I wondered about one of their drinks aloud, and one of the patrons sitting next to me said, "It's what I have right here. Want a taste?" Apparently no one has warned folks here about talking to strangers, much to my delight.

So here was the lineup to Burma Superstar's yumminess.

Tea Leaf Salad. Every tip I looked at on FourSquare recommended this deliciousness. On top of a chopped salad of romaine lettuce, peanuts, jalapenos, sesame seeds, tomatoes, and some other crunchy tidbits is fermented tea leaves. I have no experience with fermented tea leaves, so I had no frame of reference. I brings a light tea flavor and pungency to the table that kicks up what could be deemed as a regular salad a few notches. Don't miss this. There's also a Rainbow Salad that has 22 different ingredients in it that you can ask to have assembled tableside.

Mint Chicken - when this came to the table, I thought it was going to be roaring spicy, what with the dried red peppers and fresh jalapenos. Whoa. But not to fear, it's entirely manageable and quite tasty, however, there was little mint flavor to it, and I found it to be very similar to, dare I say, a well made Chinese Chicken Stir-Fry.

Burmese-style Shrimp Curry. I could describe it as a nice shrimp stew in a tomato base, and you wouldn't bat an eye. I liked it, but I think I was expecting more of a curry taste. Then again, I don't know what Burmese-style curry is, so it's unfair to apply an Indian or Japanese or Thai curry expectation.

Coconut Rice - this, in conjunction with the Mint Chicken was a great combination. The fried onions on top added a nice texture and depth of flavor. Yum!

Portion Control Issues

2011-03-23T17:56:00.000-07:00

I'll admit it. I have serious portion control issues. I am married to a man who is a foot taller than I am, and yet, I often find myself eating as much as he does. And then I wonder why my pants are a little too tight...

It's also kinda hard for the mind to adjust with the slowing of one's metabolism as we age. Not that I'm old or anything, mind you. Anyway, Eric and I went to Iron Hill in West Chester for their Belgian Fest a few months ago, and I decided to do the sensible thing and get something off their Healthy Selections section of the menu. Its tagline is "Big Taste, Smaller Portions, Under 600 Calories." I felt an excited anticipation when I ordered the Char-Grilled Angus Top Sirloin with Garlic-Roasted Fingerling Potatoes, Asparagus, sun-dried tomato portabella relish and a dark Belgian ale sauce. And then, a rude awakening...

So THIS is the right portion size, huh? 3 asparagus, 2 fingerling potatoes, and oh yes, that IS about the size of a deck of cards. Ever since my Weight Watcher friends told me about the card trick, I never quite understood how that could possibly be. It just didn't seem like it could be enough. It was a good lesson and I was thankful because I had to do something to offset all the BEER we drank! *Sigh* It's hopeless...

Spicy Dumplings

2011-03-20T18:20:00.000-07:00

This is quickly becoming my go-to dish because people seem to like it so much. Every time I've ever made it, someone says, "does anyone want that last one?" And then everyone looks around because it's a real conundrum. They want it, but you know that he who asks for it, gets it, unless he's Eric, who can be vetoed because he has a direct access to the source.

I don't make dumplings from scratch anymore because it's just too time-consuming. Besides, I've found a really great dumpling brand that I like at the Asian store. That's half the battle. The other half is all about the sauce. I throw all sorts of stuff together. I don't ever measure, so I can't really give great detail on this, but here it is in order of quantity, with the largest quantity first:

Hoisin Sauce
Sriracha (this is all about how spicy you want it to be, so easy on this)
Bean paste with chili sauce (I found some Thai bean paste hiding in my fridge and thought, what the heck, throw that in too, and it worked out great!)
Soy sauce
Rice vinegar
Chili oil
Sesame oil

See what I mean about throwing everything together? It's very forgiving and malleable. Enjoy!

Fast Food Gluttony

2011-03-12T16:06:00.000-08:00

Eric administers the SATs every year. And every year, he goes to BK to get a Whopper, Shake, and Fries. This year, I thought I would commemorate the event with him, but I suggested we get fries from McDonald's, because everyone knows Mickey D fries rule.

While Eric was getting himself a Double Whopper with Cheese and a Whopper with Cheese for me, I drove out to McDonald's for two large fries. When I got there, I took a look at the fries sizes and I thought, you know, why be so gluttonous? I'll get myself medium fries instead. I know - it's like deciding to get the diet coke instead of regular...

The last time I had a burger and fries as a meal was in the Chicago airport on a layover with Eric like a year ago. I got a regular hamburger and small fries. When I unwrapped the hamburger, the patty was so puny I got rid of half the bun because gosh darn if that was going to be all I tasted. That's all I had, and I was perfectly satiated.

This time around, I was partaking in some serious fast food, man. And I'm not talking about the 6 grams of fat in a 6-in Subway sandwich.

The first bite was, I must admit, incredible. I could see why someone would want to eat this everyday, every meal. But by the time I was 3/4 way through the burger, I was, I must admit, a little bloated. And then I poured out the rest of my fries and was feeling completely uninspired. Those fries are the BEST when they've just come out of the fryer. Saturated in its full fat glory with salt galore, it's perhaps the most heavenly thing I can think of to eat. But give it 10 minutes, and it's not unlike the fry you find on the car floor. It looks amazingly fine, but there's no glistening fat sheen or granules of salt for that glorious hit of savoriness. Instead, it's kinda blah. The external layer is no longer crispy, the inside is no longer hot and soft. It's all reversed - spineless outside, hard inside. Despite all these thoughts going through my mind, I just had to see if every single one of them were like that, so yes. I ate them all anyway.

I'm glad to say that Eric and I took a walk after that monstrous meal. But we suffered because of it. The spring in our step was gone. We trudged around the neighborhood feeling like ogres, if we didn't look the part. I think we may have shuffled, for actually lifting our feet would have been asking for way too much.

Hours later now, I think I'm finally getting over it. But just to make sure I never do this again, I took a look at the Nutritional Value of those Whoppers on the BK site. A Double Whopper with Cheese is a body-slamming 950 calories. Eric's large chocolate shake was a godzilla-sized 960 calories. McD's large fries are a mammoth 500 calories. Eric's intake of food was an awesome 2,410 calories. One meal! Add to that his beer, and I don't care how tall he is. No one should be eating like that. Mine was a bit better, but I don't feel better. My Whopper with Cheese is 710 calories and the medium fries is 380. I had half a beer, and that is basically my caloric allotment for the entire day. Boy I'm glad I didn't touch any kind of shake.

So this was my first and my last time celebrating the SATs with Eric. It's just not worth it.

Beauty of an Irony

2011-03-06T11:07:00.000-08:00

When I was in grad school, I had a clear complexion and full head of thick healthy hair. It was easy, really. I used Dove bar soap and Pantene shampoo. I did little else.

Then I started working for a large and successful beauty company. I had all the best that beauty could buy at my disposal. Tubes and tubes of goop that women would pay through the nose for, and it was all there for the taking. So of course, I started in on all sorts of complicated skin regimens. There were creams that were going to prevent wrinkles, lighten skin tone, even skin tone, remove age spots, chemically peel off surface-y dead skin cells, remove redness of the skin, firming and toning, cellulite disappearance. And then the hair - who knew there were so many issues with hair! I decided that my hair was oily, so I had started using the best haircare products for oily hair. I was going to look like a supermodel by the end of this all!

Instead, my hair became incredibly dry - not unlike having sticks of hay on my head. It also became oili-ER and I couldn't go a day without washing my hair what with the grease puddle that would form from the roots and make its way down the hair shaft. Totally disgusting, I'm telling you! My skin started breaking out and for the first time since puberty hit, I had this mask of red and pimply agitated skin that let me and every else know how much it hated life.

All that time, I thought I was hitting this weird younger-than-mid-life-crisis. Years later - yes, that's right, years later - I finally bought some bottles of Proactiv, and it only served to make my face worse. More irritated, redder, more agitated.

As I slowly moved my way into the local, pesticide-free food culture, it dawned on me that my SKIN is the LARGEST ORGAN of my body, and what was this nonsense of continuing to expose it to chemicals all day long? So a year ago, I started playing around with a more natural way of cleansing. Today? Here's my new very effective, very inexpensive skin and hair regimen:

Organic Raw Honey is unadulterated and unpasteurized, so its enzymes, vitamins, and minerals are all intact. Honey is also a mild antiseptic. It's a great facial cleanser! I know, it's totally crazy to think about smearing honey on one's face, and I had a lot of questions around how this actually went down - like how do I keep everything from getting sticky? I have a little butter knife that I use to scoop out about a quarter teaspoon. I dampen my skin with warm water, easily spread the honey in my wet hands, and then onto my skin. It applies smoothly and feels quite nice. Then I rinse it all off thoroughly. You'll know if you missed a spot because it will become sticky again. So be sure to rinse everything well. Raw honey cleansing is thorough and non-drying. And if you get some in your mouth, it tastes great!! This jar costs about $6.50 and it lasts me for half a year. Plus - I use it in the kitchen to sweeten things up.

For washing my hair and the rest of my body, I now use this shampoo bar. I know, a shampoo BAR?!?! It seemed that it wouldn't lather up, that it might leave my hair all limp and gross. But it's really hard to find a liquid shampoo that doesn't have a bunch of stuff I can't pronounce even though it purports to be "All Natural." Really?

When I used this shampoo bar for the first time, I could hardly believe it. There was a richness in the lathering - now, it wasn't sudsy like a washing machine exploded on my head, but there was a nice thick lather with just a little bit of the soap on my hair. The experience was really quite nice, and it was comforting. The rinse was surprisingly squeaky clean. After drying, my hair felt really healthy.

With just these ingredients: Olive oil, coconut oil, castor oil, fresh pure new hampshire spring water, sodium hydroxide (a binder) and essential oils for fragrance, I feel really good about this product. This bar of soap is about $3.50 and is equivalent to a 24 oz bottle of shampoo.

And then for the moisturizing. I've started to use organic extra virgin coconut oil. If you read all the literature about coconut oil, you'll see that ingesting and using for external purposes has great benefits, not the least is actually being able to clear up the skin because of its antibacterial properties. It's also a great hair conditioner. Around $7 for a 15 oz. jar. Lately, I've been cooking with it. It lends a pretty strong coconut flavor that has been difficult for me to get used to, but if I use it for Thai or other coconut prominent foods, it's awesome!

Check out some of what they're saying:

Coconut Research Center

Organic Facts - Coconut Oil

And that's it! Skin feels good, hair feels good, pocketbook feels good. Love it! I get all these items on Vitacost.com. It's a pretty good site with good prices. Let me know if there's a better one out there!

Wish you were On Orange...

2011-02-27T11:33:00.000-08:00

When someone told me that Wish You Were Here had closed down, I was a little dumbfounded. I love that breakfast joint, and it saddened me to hear that I may not ever get a bite of those toothsome Swedes, or the ethnic flair in the Indian omelette. I was, to be truthful, crushed.

A few years ago, during my food critic days, I had written an article about Wish You Were Here - click to see.

And now, sitting in its place, is On Orange, which is remarkably similar, except that the interior got a facelift and the feel is a tad bit not-as-grungy. I like it just fine. And the best part? The Swedes are still there, only instead of bananas, stewed apples. Fine, whatever, they're just as delicious.

The Indian omelette has made the cut and is still its piquant self. For those who are watching their carb intake, you can now replace the potatoes with roasted tomatoes, and they're delicious. Roasted with rosemary and garlic. You can't go wrong there. They've also left the bread alone, and you can still get a thick slice of 7 grain. Yeah, man! And then there's a new addition, among others - Chilaquiles.

In my travels to Mexico, I was enamored with Chilaquiles, mostly because I liked saying it. Chee-La-KEE-lace. So I'd order it all the time and then end up disappointed because while I liked to say the name, I didn't actually like tortilla chips soaked in a red sauce. But at On Orange, they've added a little twist, with chorizo, queso, and two eggs on top! The best Chilaquiles I've ever had, in or out of Mexico! It just goes to show how much a myriad of protein added to something can work wonders. That, and maybe a little Americanization. I can't believe I just wrote that...

I'm so glad my favorite breakfast joint is back. Less Woodstocky, but still Woodstocky enough. And now, on First Fridays, they offer a prix fixe dinner starting at 5:30PM. They bring in chefs and they create a menu for the evening. It's a really brilliant idea. It's a really brilliant place.

On Orange
108 W. Orange Street, Lancaster

Beauty & Essex - NYC

2011-02-13T13:44:00.000-08:00

The meal at Beauty & Essex, in lower Manhattan, was the best meal that I have experienced in recent memory.

Beauty & Essex opened in December 2010. It's absolutely beautiful, with a theme of a jewelry store, what with the Ruby Room, etc. It's complete with a pawn shop that fronts the joint and belies the decadent interior that unfolds once you're through the back door.

It's also owned by the brother of a consultant that I've been working with. When he found out I was heading into NYC for a meeting, he said, "You should go to my brother's restaurant." Honestly, I was thinking it might be the Papaya King. Then he said, "He owns the Stanton Social." Right. I don't even live in the state, and I know the Stanton Social. "But don't go there," he continues, "go to his new restaurant - Beauty & Essex." And he got us a reservation.

I had a train to catch that night, so we headed to dinner at 6:15PM. The place was completely empty. Great, I thought, totally beautiful, totally dead. Then again, I'm on Central PA time, where people eat early, and places close down early, if they're open at all...

The menu is structured to be small plates that are to be shared. Between me and my trusty culinary colleague, friend and sommelier Tamara, we thought, 4-5 dishes should do it. Of course, the great thing about being only once removed from the owner, is that you're quite well taken care of. Our 4-5 dishes turned into 7 + dessert...

Roasted Bone Marrow with a Rioja Shallot Marmalade. We each took a half of a bone and began our scraping and assembling of quite a different type of toast. Creamy, fatty, sweet, righteous.

Lobster Bisque Soup Dumplings with a Thai influence, some of them burst in my mouth with flourish - a coconutty spicy soup bath for the mouth. Takes Mm Mm Good to a whole new level. My only complaint is that some of them didn't have all the goodness to burst.

We ordered the pizzetta in the foreground - Apples, Bacon, Truffle Honey, Maytag Bleu Cheese. The crust was so thin, it was like a cracker. Totally genious. The other pizzetta? Roasted tomato pizzetta - compliments of the kitchen. Stick with the first one - it's totally unique and utterly mind-blowing.

Salt & Pepper Shrimp. Perfectly grilled and wonderfully seasoned, it's the one dish I feel like I've had before. At a Chinese restaurant. And it was called Salt & Pepper Shrimp. Now, the succulence was unrivaled, but if you have to make choices, this should be closer to the bottom of the list.

Chicken Fried Oyster on a bed of spinach sauteed in bacon fat - and the angels began singing... How the oyster could still remain quite raw, yet hot, is an amazing feat. Lovely.

So... this champagne bar is in the Ladies' Washroom. I'm not kidding. By this time, it was 8PM, and the place was PACKED. I had to shimmy my way through the crowd, and as I was washing my hands, I heard a female voice from somewhere "Would you like a glass of Champagne?" I was like, what? Where is that voice coming from? And behind the mirror, is this sexy red bar with a bartender dishin' it out. Seriously?!? Seriously. Then you walk back through the bar with a full-on flute of champagne - the women nod their knowing nods, and the guys are like, "where is all this champagne coming from?!?!"

There was one more "compliments of the kitchen" - the Chicken Meatballs, which were delicious, but not my fave - didn't even get a picture taken of it, and frankly, by that time, I was so full I was bursting at the seams. But then they said, "Please choose a dessert - compliments of the kitchen," and I suddenly had just a little more space left to fill. We ordered the Butterscotch Pot de Creme. Oh heavenly. Besides the stellar presentation, the tastebuds have voted. So good it shan't be missed. Rich and creamy with just the right amount of sweetness you just can't help but keep eating it. Full stomach and all.

Beauty & Essex

146 Essex St

Btwn Stanton & Rivington St

(212) 614-0146

www.beautyandessex.com

The Chinese Chicken Guy

2011-01-23T15:05:00.000-08:00

Often in China, I roam the streets, hoping to come upon interesting things or people. This time, while in Shanghai, I turned off the main road and into a little alleyway that was jam-packed with locals. That's enough of an invitation to me. It was a vibrant Chinese market where if you found space on the ground, that could be your store. I happened upon this middle-aged Chinese man with a cage of live chickens attached to the back of his bicycle.

See the bloody scissors on top of the cage? It's taken to the throat, then the whole chicken is dipped into boiling water to loosen up the follicles so that he can work on defeathering and gutting it. Wow. A whole new meaning to fresh...

I snapped a few photos until the guy looked up and started yelling at me about not taking photos. I yelled back in my best you-can't-intimidate-me Mandarin that I wasn't and just chill out already.

I was just about to post all my pictures commemorating the event. But then I pause. There might be a reason he doesn't want photos of him taken by a foreigner who will probably find his livelihood "fascinating" enough to post all over her traveling food blog. I've seen enough instances of the control the government likes to have over its constituents, who am I to post his photo? So this is all you'll get. I think it tells enough of the story...

Ode to China's Simple Carbs

2011-01-17T19:08:00.000-08:00

Carrie Bradshaw might have loved shoes. This Asian-American gal? I never met a well-made rice or noodle bowl I didn't love.

In the United States, I've subscribed to the complex carb movement. In fact, since I cannot purport to love bread or potatoes, it's been easy to be fairly monogamous to my other love - meat. Only occasionally will my German- American husband and I have a Chinese night, in which I will dutifully steam a batch of organic brown rice in my loyal National brand rice cooker. And things are happily status quo. That is, until I travel to China on one of my many business trips, then all hell breaks loose.

I would be lying if I didn't admit that the number one reason I choose to eat complex carbs is for weight control. God has not blessed me with a waif of a body, nor with a high, or even normal metabolism. Imagine my surprise, upon testing my metabolism, that I was a full glass of wine's worth of calories slower than what was expected. I really shouldn't have been, though. What with great parking and travel karma, something has to give.

And so I head to China where I revel in my comfort foods. And where the complex carbs have not yet had a major coming-out party. So I indulge in white rice, sometimes fried, sometimes steamed, but always consumed with such rapturous enjoyment that I silently thank those who discovered how to refine the grain to its perfect state. There's nothing better than the combination of a lovely morsel of beef, slowly braised in soy sauce until it succumbs its tough sinews to moist tenderness, and an equally yoked bite of white rice, perfectly steamed so that it's lovingly cooked through and just sticky enough to stay together. Ah, it's like Gershwin & Bernstein, Ginger & Fred, Laurel & Hardy.

Don't even get me started on the immense variety of noodle dishes. And the Chinese know how good they have it. On my journey from Taipei to China, I started my day with a bowl of breakfast noodles - toothsome Chinese noodles bathed in a savory clear broth with vegetables and pork slices. I went to the airline lounge where there was a highly efficient machine of a noodle bar. The fact that everyone slurped enthusiastically and left nary a stray noodle in any of the bowls tells me they must be cranking out pretty decent-tasting fare. Then on the plane, they were featuring a famous Tainan noodle soup. In a 3-hour span, I had been presented with 3 opportunities for noodles. Cloudy, with a really great chance of noodles.

By now, at the end of my week-long trip, I've had my fill of rice and noodles, a trusted friend at every single meal. However, it has also been accompanied with a bloated feeling and a distended mid-section that I'm afraid is not a temporary issue. It's during these moments that I remind myself that an obsessive love affair always has an eventual and devastating downside. Tomorrow, I return back to the US, where my less devastating and always loyal organic brown rice awaits me.

Chinese Smoked Sausage

2011-01-16T18:28:00.000-08:00

This particular Chinese sausage is smoked by exhaust fumes...

Sa La Thai

2010-12-21T13:34:00.000-08:00

Oh, glory of glories. There's a good Thai place in town! Okay, I guess I don't mind Lemongrass that much, but heading down on 462 all the way to the Outlets doesn't even cross my mind. Oddly enough, I'll drive 40 minutes to Harrisburg for good Thai, but I can't recall the last time I drove half the time to Lemongrass. Guess it didn't impress me that much... And you know how I feel about Sukhothai. So enough said.

Now there's Sa La Thai on North Queen St., right next door to Gusto. The interior reminds me EXACTLY of Gusto, so much so that I swear it was the same place and that Gusto had too much room and thought they should lend one side out to the Thai cooks. A little too knock-off-ish, ya know? If there were a copyright for decor, they'd be guilty of infringement.

But the food is quite delightful. Lemongrass soup was just the right spiciness and piquantly flavorful. The chicken was nice and moist, and I appreciated their authenticity in keeping it simple.

The Thai Beef Salad was pretty darned delicious and struck a relatively good balance of sweet and tart. On the whole, I thought the dishes might be overly sweet, but not distractingly so. However, it's enough for me to possibly mention the next time I'm there to take the edge off. Look at how lovely the visual is! Great contrast of color, some caramelization on the beef. Pretty stellar.

Alas, I did not take a picture of my Drunken Noodles. They were so good I demolished the plate even though 2/3s of the way through, I was feeling the satiation, much to the chagrin of Eric, who was hoping for some leftovers he could enjoy. I do think they were a little wetter as compared to the noodles of the Harrisburg restaurants. But the flavor was still nice. I had ordered the same level of spiciness as the soup, but the dish was decidedly mild.

And then there is the Mango and Sticky Rice. I've never seen green sticky rice before, and I wish I had remembered to ask, because I find it odd and unappetizing. The taste, though, was fine. What a surprise it was for all of us, especially for the ones who had never had this before, but were willing to try it after I talked it up so much. I can still hear it, "Soooo, what's the green stuff?"

Last, but not least, it's BYO. Yay for BYO!

I'll be back again soon...

Sa La Thai

337-339 N. Queen St., Lancaster

717-509-4850

Grimaldi's Pizza

2010-12-19T13:33:00.000-08:00

Oh, yum. Half of it Anchovies and Onions. The other half Onions, Sausage, and Roasted Sweet Red Peppers. Nothing much better than NY Thin Crust...

Damn Mexican Food

2010-12-07T18:01:00.000-08:00

It finally happened. I finally went to Mexico and got a healthy dose of the Mexican Flu. I decided I should take advantage of being sent to these exotic locales and spend some time exploring their treasures. So off I went to the Pyramids on Saturday! Yes, you shall see the pictures and experience it in a posting in all its full glory, because it's amazing, but here's where I will likely lay blame for the sickness and public humiliation (well, not really) I endured on Sunday.

Our tour van had the most fascinating and fun people I have ever met on a tour. There was the Grandma Diva, the Krazy Kiwi, New Yawk Columbian couple, the Dutch Photographer, and the Firefightin' Chilean couple. Really diverse, right?

By the time we rolled into lunch, we had two of the three pyramids under our belts, and we were really in need of a beer. I mean, there's a lot of steep climbing and for me, a lot of fretting coming back down.

The "specialty" of the little cantina was the Molcajete meal. Lots of cooked meat in their "drunken sauce" served in a piping hot volcanic rock mortar. On the side are ~4-inch corn tortillas that are used to fashion little tacos with all that's available. Almost everyone at the table got the same thing. So far, I know of one other person on the tour who has gotten sick, and our common food intake is this Molcajete dish. And that's enough evidence for me.

As I ate this meal, I remember thinking that this version was far better than the one I had had months earlier in Mexico City. The first time I had it, it was as dry as the Gobi Desert. There was nary a drop of sauce to be had. The Drunken Sauce of this variety was the clincher, making everything moist and bring a wallop of taste. I actually enjoyed it. The Kiwi to my right, however, finished his meal quickly and deemed it as "rather disappointing." Then he learned of the sauce. "What sauce?" he said. "Oi! What sauce?!?" Ahh, too late, too bad...

There was one thing that we both left in its singularity in the rock, and that's the sausage that you see laying on top. He ate it first, and mentioned that he just wasn't sure what kind of animal this could possibly be. Pshaw! I thought... until I put it in my mouth. And then I wasn't so sure myself... Alas, we each ate about half of it. Hmm. We really need to see about the Grandma Diva. She ate it all. If someone is going to get sick on Mexican food, it has to be her...

After a fun-filled evening that included seeing the best cover band I may have ever seen in my life, called "What The FUNK," and to which I am totally a groupie now, flash forward to Sunday's diary.

6AM - Feeling a little uncomfortable. Must be all the Jameson the night before. Run to the sink where I proceed to dispel everything that could possibly be in my stomach left over from the night before, and maybe half of my large intestine. But hydrate before I board a plane, I must! So I down a whole bottle of Fiji water.

7:30AM - In the lobby checking out. Whoa, it seems extra chilly this morning. This lady better check me out fast because I... and out spewed that entire bottle of Fiji water onto the pristine floor of the 5-star Intercontinental Hotel. Check out lady's face is priceless. Mixture of panic, care, and disgust. I might have laughed if I didn't feel so awful physically and about the elderly Mexican gentleman cleaning everything up. Try to give him a nice tip, but he refuses to take advantage of the situation. I respect the man even more.

8:20AM - About to pass through airport metal detector. Uh-oh. Where to go? Where to go?!?!?!? Too Late! Where could this have possibly come from? Security lady's face is even better. Total panic and I hear her saying in Spanish that she needs an English speaker NOW! Then a very gentle male's voice, "Miss? Okay? Okay, miss?" I look up, and he's holding out 4 squares of toilet paper while I have watery barf all over my hand. "Okay," I say, and wave off medical assistance. I do, however, ask for more toilet paper. They let me pass through without any other questions.

9:40AM - In the boarding area, but keeping my eye on the nearest restroom. Boy, was that a good move. This time, I can get to some kind of receptacle and manage to hold my hair back. Where the hell is all this liquid coming from?!?!

10AM - In my seat, and thank goodness it's first class. The United flight attendants are stellar and keep me supplied with flat ginger ale and water while an Argentinean male and Brazilian female flirt loudly in the seats behind me, keeping me in a perpetually restless sleep. After all that, they better have exchanged numbers, otherwise I'll be pissed. Almost hurl when I get a whiff of everyone else's in-flight meal. But I don't.

Ugh. I guess the positive is that I've now lost 5 lbs. As my boss said, "Best diet ever."

A Turducken Thanksgiving

2010-11-30T18:15:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving at the Cooley house is quite the crazy-fun experience. For the past 6 years, they have made a Turducken. As I have mentioned this to several folks in answering the back-to-work-on-Monday traditional question, "So how was your Thanksgiving?", I have received a number of quizzical looks and a request for a repeat. Therefore, I feel it necessary to explain this fowl monstrosity.

A Turducken is a boneless chicken stuffed with, in this case, pork sausage, then stuffed into the cavity of a boneless duck, then all stuffed into a turkey that is boneless except for the legs and wings. You know, to make it seem "normal."

This was my second encounter with the birds-in-one. The first time was at a place in Sarasota, FL that was featured on Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives, or whatever that show is with Guy Fieri. It was all together disappointing. The turkey was incredibly dry, and how could it not be? While the chicken is shedding its salmonella bacteria, the outer turkey continues to cook and cook and cook.

The Cooley Turducken, however, is pretty moist. Judy cooks it in a bird bag to keep it all steaming in its own juices. And I have to say, I was entirely fascinated at first. And then, and then... well, once you pull off the legs and wings, you end up carving the thing like it's a log roll. Of meat. Yes, there is no question of my carnivore nature, but even I have limits. A poultry log roll with pork sausage in the middle. Ay, ay, ay. Even then, if you're going to have a Turducken, the Cooleys have it pretty well made. And if I don't think about the flesh upon flesh concept, I actually thought it tasted pretty good...

But I tell you what I really did like, everything else! Lots of wine flowing, great atmosphere, and really great non-Turducken food!

Sweet potato soup with bacon chutney and dollop of sour cream. Delish! And envy the table setting. Love it.

Wild rice that was "only there because the Male Head of the Household requested it." Perhaps it IS a male thing, because Eric chowed on this thing and I think I saw a glimpse of tear forming in Mark's eye as he realized he would be getting no Wild Rice leftovers the next day...

Oyster Stuffing - stuffed by yours truly! I thought I stuffed the CorningWare, only to find that once it settles after baking, it reduces to half its size. Ah well, makes every bite a more concentrated oystery bite.

Creamy, buttery mashed potatoes. I will take this any day over the American Sweet Potato Casserole. I don't get that thing. The sweet potato is already so sweet, so why, oh why, does anyone need to add brown sugar and top it with a marshmallow something or other? My teeth hurt just thinking about it...

The Cooleys have a Food Science intern living with them while she gains her experience at Hershey's. She made a lot of the dishes, but this has to be hers and only hers. Red cabbage braised in apple cider. Really great!

And then, of course, dessert. From left: Traditional Apple Pie, Pumpkin Mousse with a cookie crust, and a Cranberry-Apple Crumble. Of note - that CranApple Crumble. Great balance of tart and sweet. Beauty.

Sights of China

2010-11-24T12:08:00.000-08:00

I believe these are lotus flowers. Displayed in the lobby of the Jin Jiang Hotel. Beautiful sight to see every morning.

I dove into the alleyway off of a very busy road while in Beijing and found a whole alley community alive and buzzing within it. This guy was making an Onion Pancake. A huge Onion Pancake.

Fun to watch.

In the middle of an area I can only describe as the Amsterdam of Beijing, amongst pipe houses, flower-child clothing stores, was this roasted duck place. Oddly fitting, but still entirely curious, and emitting some pretty good aromas.

While walking randomly through Shanghai, I came upon this older man playing Chinese chess on a homemade cardboard chess board. He was furiously sucking on his cigarette, which had only a millimeter of tobacco left to go, and all the while, his opponent was heckling him, and a bystander was yelling instructions to him. He never wavered. Nerves of steel.

There's an area off a main road with all of the common fashion brands one would find anywhere else in the world called Tian Zi Fang. Once you dive into the maze of alleys off that road, you're transported into this Bohemian-type world that's definitely worth visiting. Here are a bunch of pictures from that area.

The guard dog of an art gallery.
This dog was better dressed than its owner

I can't even remember what this store was selling. I was completely and utterly distracted by
how cool their lighting system was...

Ah yes. At the Beijing Airport.
Even the shape of the cups and graphics
on them are a dead-on rip-off.

It's the little things...

2010-11-23T14:57:00.000-08:00

Today, I fashioned myself a stay-at-home wife, and enjoyed coffee in the middle of the afternoon with a good friend at a local coffee joint, Chestnut Hill Cafe. In case you were wondering, I do love not working... The scary thing is that I spend so little time in town that I actually forgot where this place was and found myself going the very looong way around to get there.

Anyway, I ordered a Spicy Cinnamon Skim Latte, and they served it to me at my table. It was so pretty, I had to take a picture, and I felt myself feeling uninhibitedly delighted. It's truly the little things that bring such joy. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! There's truly much to be thankful for. Let us be uninhibited about that.

Good Friends and Cheetos

2010-11-21T13:27:00.000-08:00

Last night, several of us gathered at one of the better Thai joints in the area to bid a good friend and coworker good luck in Bentonville, AR in her new assignment AND to celebrate her 40th birthday.

But I have to say that I might have gotten one of the better gifts last night.

For background, my old Reese's Director and I have had many a heated discussion about Cheetos. He's a diehard Puffed guy. I'm vehemently on the Crunchy side. So much so, that I don't even understand how the Cheetos brand can be shared with the Puffed. Those should be called Cheesy Air, because that's what the experience is like. Yuck.

At his house, they get the Frito variety bags. Apparently, he's poisoned the well with his whole family, and no one will eat the Crunchy Cheetos. HIs wife was about to thrown them away, but he said, "I know who will want these..." And here's the best gift of the night.

Sigh. I have such good friends...

Shanghai Uncle

2010-11-14T17:07:00.000-08:00

Who would have thought a restaurant called Shanghai Uncle, with a logo depicting a jolly ol' Chinese guy with glasses, would be considered one of the best restaurants in the city? One of the two locations happened to be attached to my hotel, the Westin (which was really great, by the way), and late the evening I arrived, I was starving and confused about what time my internal clock was running on, so why not indulge in a little late night noshing?

Admittedly, my eyes were much hungrier than my stomach could ever be. 3 dishes? Really? I knew I wanted the Soup Dumplings. They are, after all, a Shanghai specialty, and to not enjoy in them as part of my trip would be sacrilegious. Then I thought, I should get some vegetables to go with that. No harm with that. But then my impulse got the better of me. Because the menus have pictures that accompany the food items, I saw a picture of some fried rice, which is such a comfort food for me, and before I could stop myself, I found myself pointing to the picture and saying, "Hai yao yang chao tsao fan..." Ack! The server was writing it down, smiled, and then left me there, thinking about the implications of having ordered 3 dishes at a restaurant, in China, on my first night there, with a severe deficit in my Chinese Food tank, and knowing I had to put together some kind of strategy because I would, absolutely, unequivocally, eat it all if I didn't have a strategy. Anyone know what I'm talking about here? Come on, don't leave a girl on her own!

When it all came, though, I was immensely grateful that I hadn't missed out on any one of the simply spectacular dishes.

Pea Shoots are my favorite vegetable dish. If they have it, I get it. This was served with an "XO sauce." I've seen that label quite a few times, and I've always thought ti was a sauce made from Cognac. How silly, because when I asked someone what made something an "XO sauce," he said, "Oh, it just means something premium." Really. You mean like Premium Cognac?

Ah, the Soup Dumplings. So delicate, so delectable, so many! See my other Shanghai posting on how one should eat these little purses of savory delight. Okay, so it's my method, but I wouldn't do it if I didn't think it was the best...

And finally, the dish that threw me over the edge and into a realm of doubt and self-loathing. But boy, was this good!!

Shanghai Uncle in the Bund Center on the west side of the river...

Cafe Gia's in Baltimore's Little Italy

2010-10-16T14:53:00.000-07:00

There's a great little casual place in Little Italy that has a very unique dish that sets it apart from the rest of the Italian places in which I've had the pleasure of dining.

The atmosphere is intimate and cozy, and on a beautiful night, the large windows make it feel like you're outside. This dish...is the amazing one. It's Lobster and Crab Ravioli in a balsamic vinegar and CURRY sauce. Curry, I said. It's so uniquely amazing and crazy delicious. Sweetness from the balsamic vinegar, pungent aroma from the curry. This thing is rich, luscious, and deadly. Really, I mean it - it has a lot of heart-clogging fat and cream, man. Nevertheless, I'll be back for this delicacy. It's unreplicated elsewhere.

Don't get me wrong, though. The other dishes were quite good in their own right. Here's their Gnocchi in Bolognese sauce. I was perfectly happy with this guy until I tasted the Ravioli, which wasn't my order, of course. But this was certainly healthier, and given the equation of nutrition + taste, this would take the cake. Meaty, balanced, with a good tomato flavor that was stripped of the acidity. Good, but I've had it before from any number of great restaurants.

The final item of note for the evening - because the grilled octopus didn't blow my socks off - the wine. I had originally wanted a Montepulciano since I've been in love with it ever since my visit to the Monica's Trattoria in Boston. Alas, they didn't have it, but they did have this goody good. We polished this off between the two of us quickly and efficiently. Like the James Bond of the drinking world. If only...

Cafe Gia's

410 S High St
Baltimore, MD 21202-4335
(410) 685-6727

Addicted to Costco

2010-10-14T14:00:00.000-07:00

There are only two people in my household. Me and my husband. So why does this happen to me at Costco???

My name is Lina. I'm addicted to Costco. And I love it.

Shame on Black & Decker

2010-10-12T13:45:00.000-07:00

There was a time once, when I thought the brand name of Black & Decker was synonymous with quality. No longer. About a year ago, I purchased a toaster oven to replace the antiquated toaster oven I had since 1999 or something ancient like that. It worked pretty well the first month or two, and then one day, we were sitting around smelling burnt toast when my husband realized he had toast going, but you know the thing should "DING"? It never did! It's a toaster oven, for goodness sakes. One of the few things it should do in its life is to toast bread, and then DING to tell you that it did so! Who ever heard of a humble toaster oven? Well, we have one. It's annoying, and sets off smoke alarms.

Whatever happened to good quality? Whatever happened to wanting to protect your brand name? Because for Black & Decker, it decided to ignore both.

Celebrate with Kupkakes

2010-10-10T13:38:00.000-07:00

We just had a little shindig for Eric's birthday/graduation. As I was prepping, I came up on the bakery section of the local Giant grocery store and was entirely intrigued by their Novelty Kupkakes. Check this out - they fashion the cupcakes in a design and then layer the icing on top of it so that it looks like a cake! Immediately, I thought of just how EASY this was going to be to serve! Just pull away! I was so excited about it I could barely sleep that night.

The next day, I called in my order. A black mortar board with a 2010 tassle in Temple colors for the newly minted Dr. "No problem," the cake designer said, "pick it up on Friday night." Coolio! Friday came, and I went to go pick it up. The girl working the counter came back with my order with a sheepish look on her face. When I looked at the cake, I understood the look, which said, "I'm not sure what you and the designer talked about, but I'm not sure this was what you intended, and I'm sorry that I'm going to make you pay for this." Yes, sometimes all it takes is one look. My key mistake? Ordering a shape that needed straight lines. Because don't you know, Lina, that cupcakes are round?? I found myself staring at a black blobby shape that said, "Happy Birthday Dr. Bierker." Hmm.

I know, you're dying to see it. Alas, I didn't take a picture of it in its full glory. But besides the fact that it didn't quite look how I imagined it to be, and that the black peanut butter icing stained everyone's fingers and teeth, the pulling of the cupcakes away for anyone who wanted it worked like a charm. No cutting, no plates needed, so easy, and honestly, the cupcakes really tasted good! Who knew how delightfully fluffy jet-black peanut butter icing could be? Yum.

I swear, I will only get these Kupkakes from now on. Only I'll ask for a non-linear shape that doesn't involve black. Lesson learned.

Hutong Cooking in Beijing

2010-10-07T19:31:00.000-07:00

One of the best events of my Beijing trip was a cooking class. It took place in a Hutong, which are old clustered neighborhoods connected via alleys and with a traditional courtyard.

Our instructor was Chunyi Zhou, a young, gregarious, and witty woman. I first saw her in an article in Saveur magazine, which I didn't quite realize until I came upon her website in a Google search. There are quite a few classes available in Beijing, and perhaps I will choose another when I visit again, but I chose mighty well with this class.

There were 7 people in the class, each armed with an apron and a very sharp cleaver. I mean, honestly, if this were taking place in the US, there would have to be pages of waivers signed. But before I totally bust on my citizenship, I do have to give it props for making the rest of the world speak English. In the class, there was a Chinese woman, her American boyfriend, three Germans, and us two Americans. Everyone had to make do with the English, which is fine for the rest of the world because they all learn English as a second or even third language. But it still makes for some entertaining situations.

While cooking the beef stew, Chunyi mentioned that you could cook it with bamboo. "What's bamboo?" asked one of the Germans. "You know, like what a Panda eats," said Chunyi in her very charming accented English. "A panda?" I heard murmurings among the three as they tried to figure out what that might mean. "You know, like a panda," says my coworker, as she starts to imitate what she thinks is conveying what a panda would do, which apparently is not much but some slow, waddling movements. "Black and white, you know?" "Ahhh! A Panda!!" they cry in unison as the lightbulb goes off above their heads. Hilarious.

Dry Stir-Fry of beef and chicken. Not my favorite. Anytime you cook a meat until it's "dry," it kinda gets dry...

A very simple dish - Blanched vegetables topped with a sugar and soy sauce concoction with sauteed spring onions and ginger

Rich and flavorful beef stew with Chinese radish. After 2 hours of slow cooking, the beef tenderly falls apart and practically melts in your mouth. And with all the different spices that braise and develop deep flavors, it's sumptuous.

Ma Po Tofu - spicy Sichuanese tofu dish with layer upon layer of flavors that are strong, and yet well balanced. It's one of my favorite dishes to make now.

I took video of every dish, but to show them would be so rude. Just go to Beijing and take the class, I say...

Sichuan in Beijing

2010-09-19T13:53:00.000-07:00

I have a craving for Sichuan. Of all the Chinese regional cuisines, I may like this one the most, dare I mention that it tends to be quite greasy, but I don't fault French cuisine for its uninhibited use of butter, do I? I reserve judgement on my favorite call until I can fairly try them all. I better get to China again, huh?

Though Beijing isn't anywhere close to Sichuan province, it's the biggest city in China, so not only can all the food of China be found there, it tends to be trustworthily authentic.

I can't believe I didn't post these photos because just looking at them makes me drool just a bit in the corner of my mouth. This place was pretty packed, and the word on the street was that the service wasn't stellar, but as long you know this from the get go... All this to say that details aren't their forte, so there was a lot of sloppiness when the dishes came - sauce running over the sides, disheveled appearance, etc. But the taste is what matters, and in that department, it was more than fine.

Dan Dan Noodles is such a classic Sichuan dish. Spicy, a bit sour, a tad sweet, it's always what I start with because I see it on the menu and I just can't help myself. But whatever you do, don't wear a white shirt. It's oily slick with the Sichuan essence and if you're not an expert chopstick user, don't say I didn't tell you. This is one of my gauges for comparison across different Sichuan joints.

Ah, yes. This is pork strips stir-fried with strips of hot peppers. You would think this would be the most fiery of the bunch, but if you're careful with the veins and seeds, as most of the restaurants are, it's manageable and can be maddeningly addicting.

Here's my other go-to - Sui Ju Niu Ro, or Boiled Beef. See what I mean by a bit slick? But that is one of the best oil slicks to ever touch your lips. This is probably the spiciest of everything we had on the table. Underneath that pond of red goodness is extremely tender slices of beef and Chinese vegetables. On the right, you can see the elements I had fished out. If I didn't think I might immediately die of a coronary, I'd mix some rice into all that saucy yumness and eat it all up.

We finished off the evening with these lightly deep fried (hmm - is this an oxymoron?) pumpkin balls. One of the things I really like about being in Asia is that their version of "sweet" pales in comparison to the sickly sweetness that you'd find in the States. These were made of glutinous rice flour, so it had a chewy consistency, but the flavor was fairly delicate, with the crunchiness of the crunchy broken rice on the outside. The more amazing thing of it all? We had a lot of food left over, and my coworker asked to take these back to the hotel. I remember thinking, man, bad idea. These things are only going to be good right now, right here. I was wrong. The next day, she heated them up, and they were almost as good. I like to be pleasantly surprised.

Now, what to do about my Sichuan craving here in Lancaster, PA?

Eric's Cajun Stew

2010-09-18T16:15:00.000-07:00

Our CSA gifted us with two bagfuls of okra. When I think "okra," I think GUMBO!!

I'm blessed to be married to Eric, who is a great, albeit messy, cook. Instead of downloading a recipe and following it exactly, he has an innate intuition about what flavors will work together and which will not. So he rooted through our overly packed refrigerator and freezer and threw in all sorts of stuff.

Granted, I can't really call it a gumbo because it wasn't thickened with a roux and rice isn't stirred into the dish, we're spooning this on top. So this is Eric's Cajun Stew. Spicy, rich, and yumma yum yum.

Cousin Andy's Food Blog

2010-09-11T12:59:00.000-07:00

My cousin Andy is an esteemed Biology professor at the Art Institute of Chicago. He's been teaching an ultra cool class called the Ecology of Food. I desperately wish I could take the class, and one day, I might. In the meantime, I will follow his and his class' blog.

http://ecologyoffood.blogspot.com/

Bad Senator Behavior!!

2010-09-05T11:04:00.000-07:00

On my flight back from Beijing, I got to chatting with the flight attendants, who had just arrived in Beijing from Washington Dulles airport and was doing a quick turnaround. I love talking to the flight attendants, especially when they're willing to share their outrageous stories. Right out of reality TV, some of these.

There was one story, in particular, that was pretty obnoxious. It goes like this.

On the way out to Beijing, they had a one former senator Arlen Specter on the flight. He, his aide, his wife, everyone in the entourage - which begs the question why he even has an entourage - insisted that they be upgraded to First Class. Given that they didn't pay for First Class and didn't have enough status for an upgrade, the airline staff rightly refused to give them an upgrade. It became enough of a bruhaha, probably because "Don't you know who I am?" was thrown out there at least once or twice, that the Captain, seeing a losing battle against diva behavior, gave in and allowed for the upgrade.

I think the Captain should have sat them in the back row, near the bathroom and without reclining seats, as a Time Out. After all, childish behavior should elicit its just punishment.

Breakfast in China - Take 2

2010-08-18T12:38:00.000-07:00

Just when I thought I couldn't get a better breakfast than the noodle bowl I got in Shanghai, I ended up at the Grand Hyatt in Beijing. Unfortunately, the breakfast buffet is not included in the room rate, and at $40 it's a bit of a bad value because I just don't think one can really eat that much in the morning, or should, but with this buffet? I certainly tried.

I was more than thrilled to see such a traditional Chinese breakfast offered - fried dough that is amazingly light without the heaviness of the kind of fried food you might find at a Nebraska State Fair, and its counterpart, hot Soy Milk. I love the simplicity and the elegance. But darn if that plate on the right isn't bugging the heck out of me. The next day, I tried to take another picture of this with a cleaned up background, and wouldn't you know it, I just couldn't replicate the lighting, which I love...

Another traditional Chinese breakfast - congee, or rice porridge. It's cooked rice from the day before recooked with lots and lots of water to make a porridge. You can add all sorts of stuff to it - I have a special penchant for salty pork and preserved eggs. So good! Here, it was pumpkin porridge, to which I added dried shredded pork, pickled radish, and scallions. Simple and filling. I used to hate it when my mom made it when I was young. I think it's because there just didn't seem to be enough condiments. It's the little things on the side that make this congee world go round...

These are cubes of radish cakes. If you've ever gone to Dim Sum, you might have seen this on a cart in a larger rectangular patty. Here, they cubed it, then stir fried it with bean sprouts and egg. I hadn't ever had it stir-fried like that, but dang if this wasn't as tasty as a savory radish cake could be.

And then there was this hot little number. Sichuan-style noodles. Same method of boiling the noodles to warm them up, but then they kicked it up with their own spicy sauce and flavorful broth. I added some cilantro, and truly, that was all that was needed. This thing was bursting with greatness and it took an enormous amount of discipline for me to not get another bowl. Or four...

Breakfast Noodles in China

2010-08-15T12:06:00.000-07:00

In Shanghai, I stayed at the Hua Ting Hotel because of its proximity to my meeting place. Their rate included a breakfast buffet that had a Western section with all of what you would expect - scrambled eggs, ham, bacon, sausage, omelet station - and they had a Chinese section, which to my gastronomic delight, included a noodle station. That, and a cup of coffee, is what I had for 3 mornings.

At the Noodle Station, a chef stands in front of a vat of boiling water with 4 or 5 individual sieves. This is meant to cook whatever vegetables you choose and warm up the noodles that have been precooked. All he's going to give you is a bowl of noodles, vegetables, and bland soup. The rest is up to you. So they set up all these condiments - from spicy meat to seaweed to cilantro to hot sauce - to dress up the dish. And what I learned is that there's no such thing as too much of anything...

First morning, I was such a novice; so careful was I with all the condiments that it turned out to be bland-bland-bla-bland-bland-bland.

By the third morning, I had honed my request to perfection. Less noodles, more vegetables, no soup, please. Then I placed the spicy meat sauce with the cooked pickled vegetables into the dish along with some hot sauce, cilantro and scallions.

And the final piece? I trotted over to the western side of the buffet and asked for two eggs over-easy and had them place it gently on top of it all. And voila! It looked so good I had at least 6 folks, both Asian and Western, inquire as to what I had in my hands and how they could go about getting it. It's a process, I told them. As I embarked on my instructions, I could see confusion overcome their faces. And I wanted to say, "Hey - you gotta ask yourself - how badly do you want it?"

Token look of what it all looked like underneath

Din Tai Fung

2010-08-14T10:28:00.000-07:00

Now, I'm not one for chains. Besides the occasional indulgence of McDonald's fries and a Subway low-fat sandwich on the road, I eat what the locals eat.

3 days before my trip to Shanghai, my dad called up and said, "Hey you know, you have a cousin who's an expat there. Her mom is my cousin, and if you have time, I think you should meet up." Wow. Really? A cousin from Sao Paolo, Brazil who's working in Shanghai. Who knew?!?!

Helen asked what I would like to eat. "Do you like dumplings?" she asked. Do I ever! Even if I had just had the most outrageous 10-course meal, and someone told me they had a really good dumpling, I would squeeze it in. I always have room for a good dumpling.

So we met at Din Tai Fung, a restaurant chain that made its start in Taiwan, and has expanded globally, and even has chains in the US.

I have a special place in my heart for soup dumplings, or Xiao Long Bao, which literally translates to Little Dragon Dumplings. And you know why I love them so much? Because I'm completely in awe of how these tasty little pork bundles manage to capture and contain the oh-so-flavorful juices. And then eating them is an art in and of itself. I'm sure it comes to no surprise to you, but I am a little obsessed with not wasting a single drop of the soupy goodness. So my method...

Dip the Chinese soup spoon into the soy sauce, ginger, and vinegar concoction.
Gently grab a delicate little dumpling with chopsticks and place into my spoon, letting it marinate in the sauce.
Gingerly take a small bite off the side, sucking in any rogue liquid that might escape.
Pour what's in the spoon into the cavity of the dumpling
Pop the whole thing into mouth and savor the savorific perfection.

I'm ultimately a purist. While I think these look beautifully interesting, I'm much more interested in the bottom soup dumpling part. Who cares what it looks like as long as it tastes good?

Admittedly, I've always been a sucker for noodles, too. Here, the Jia Jiang Mien is really good. Meaty and balanced with a salty sweetness, the noodles were expertly done, and it provided good variety to its dumpling counterparts.

To ensure there's a well-rounded meal, I always try to include a vegetable dish. These are pea shoots, and they're my favorite. If the menu lists them, I get them. Hands down, no question. Super simple stir-fry, natural and healthful, vegetables never tasted so good.

Ommegang Brewfest

2010-08-13T10:02:00.000-07:00

The Ommegang Brewfest can be summed up in one picture, and here it is...

Gorgeous day, gorgeous campus, gorgeous Belgian beers. This is the Tripel Perfection, an Ommegang Limited Edition. Once I found this, I dabbled with a few other Belgian lovers, but I came back to this one. It was my true love...

The Big Top scene where there seemed to be hundreds of beers waiting to be imbibed. I can't see how anyone could get through every single one of them. Eric claims he got through 70%. I'm rather doubtful. Me? I probably tried 10%, then stuck with the one I liked the most.

Of course, if this was your lodging set up, just a short stroll from the Big Top, then one might be able to get through all that beer safely. A good idea, but I'm not sure I can do it. I've never understood the concept of driving somewhere to willingly sleep on the ground...

One of my favorite "booths." Three Philosophers was the first Ommegang beer that captured my attention so completely at Stoudt's brewfest. Here, they had vintages from 2004 - 2010. Yes, they all taste differently, with subtle nuances, but unlike others who could claim a favorite, I would be happy if someone handed me a glass of any one of them.

The Ommegang lineup in their tasting room. A sight of happiness!

I'm looking forward to next year's Brewfest, and will be sure to have a few other friends in tow. I may or may not have drunk dialed one or two of them. I may have been influenced by too much beer or simply giddy on the atmosphere. Regardless, I'm ready to pounce on those tickets the moment the opportunity arises.

The Traveling Food Critic

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Breakfast Noodles in China

Din Tai Fung

Ommegang Brewfest