Barbeque Week with Down Home Foodie

Last Sunday my boyfriend and I celebrated the recent warm front with the first barbeque of the season.  His apartment has a great balcony and we got in the habit last summer of having people over on a regular basis to eat, drink, and grill.  These are great social times because everyone usually brings some contribution, whether it be food or stories.  One barbeque a friend brought beer can chicken, which I had never had before.  Another time, my friend Erin made this amazing marinade that made anything it touched a million times better by just enhancing the natural flavors of the meat or vegetable it soaked in.  This Sunday, my friend Ellie brought an incredible homemade ice-cream made from ricotta, cardamom, and lemon and a bag of ginger snaps to eat with it.   

My boyfriend is a mean griller and likes experimenting with marinades and soaking methods.  The big hit from Sunday was that he soaked the brauts in beer overnight and then grilled them.  The brauts were juicy and smoky. He also made some amazing chicken legs that were marinated in buffalo sauce. You always have to bring a big appetite to our barbeques because you usually will end up with several different meat courses.  On Sunday, it was perch, chicken legs, brauts and Italian sausages, and then pork.

 Although I normally don’t hold to gender stereotyping, the quote “Men cook outside. Women make the three-bean salad,” is somewhat true in my relationship.  My contribution to the bbq event tends to be in the supporting cast role of sides and alcohol concoctions.  The tricky thing about bbq side dishes is that one of the odd things about being a foodie is a desperate need to make your mark on the old standards.  I'm fortunate in having an audience that allows me to experiment on them, and some experiments are better than others. 

Over the next week, I’m going to post one tip every day about insights I’ve had about reinventing picnic and bbq sides.  Then, on Thursday, I’ll give you my favorite bbq sidedish recipe, “Loaded Baked Potato Salad.” 

The New Dining Hall Experience

For my restaurant review this week, I’m combining a review with a “food for thought.”  This entry came about when a comment on my “Food Porn” blog brought up how much he, too, has noticed the many ways food is taking over.  I was thinking about this over lunch on Wednesday when I realized that if you are looking for further evidence of the effect of foodism, you need not look further than my lunch. 

Yesterday, I had steamed Thai basil dumplings with sweet and spicy sauce and served with a sesame dressing salad.  I bought this from a place that also has four other kinds of dumplings and sauces, a Mongolian Grill, and a variety of handmade Sushi.  It is also a place where the tofu was provided fresh by a local farm.   

What fancy metropolitan place am I having lunch . . . a college campus in Harrisonburg, VA. 

Let this point sink in. . . I got an authentic Asian meal in a college dining hall.  Not a teriyaki termed concoction of dark brown and rice.  Not greasy Lo Mein.  Not a cornstarch thickened sweat and sour blob.  Dumplings.    



Display of other Asian dishes
offered by the dining hall. 



And no, these dumplings aren’t made, frozen, imported, and thawed.  These are made by four small Asian women who I can see manning the Mongolian grill, cooking the Pad Thai, sautéing fresh Bok Choy, and shaping each and every one of my dumplings.    Not only is it authentic looking in its preparation, these dumplings are good.  The wrapper is soft, the chicken is spicy and flavorful, and they are served warm and comforting. 

I’m not going to pretend like all the food at JMU is this impressive.  But, what I am going to say is that finding such food inclusion is something that is shaking up the formerly uncomplicated college dining hall.  Last year, I was at a school in Georgetown, Texas, in which you can get water to drink that is infused with either cucumbers or limes.  As a foodie, this intrigues me. 

I once read a really great articled called “From Spaghetti and Meatballs through Hawaiian Pizza to Sushi: the Changing Nature of Ethnicity in American Restaurants” by Liora Gvion and Naomi Trostler.  In the article, the women study menus from 1960’s through the 1990’s.  What they found is that you could trace growing acceptance of ethnic food by the changes in menus, and you could see when certain exotic foods and flavors became mainstream.  For instance, early menus show ethnic foods given American names or denatured of ethnicity with American style ingredients and preparation.  Over decades, menus eventually start to keep the original language/terminology of the dish and its exoticism becomes a selling point.  They also noticed that some menus that used to give an explanation of an ethnic food eventually dropped the explanation because that food had become so mainstream that is no longer needed an explanation.  The two authors even noticed changes in the 80s when herbs, like cilantro and basil, were added to descriptions as selling points. 

Gvion and Trostler’s article further supports my point that you can really see a change in how Americans (and the World for that matter), are seeking out new food.  People are no longer settling for straightforward cooking and upholding the classics, they want to see variation, options, choice, exoticism, and flavors.  I mean, if a dining hall can support local farms and offer homemade Asian dumplings, then that has got to say something about food culture.    

Turkey Risotto

Risotto is a labor of love.  There are recipes out there that say you don’t continually stir the risotto, but those recipes are lying.  But, as important as the stirring is to making it creamy, it seems that the real key to risotto is in the broth you use.  This recipe is great way to revisit Thanksgiving leftovers and works really well if you can use turkey broth made with the leftover carcass.  The broth I used for this batch came from the pan drippings of the roasted turkey. 

The turkey itself has a special story.  My brother, Kevin, works on Leaping Waters Farm and was given the turkey by the owner/farmer, Alec Bradford.   Leaping Waters Farm is in Alleghany Springs, VA, and is a 600-acre farm that is committed to raising high quality cattle, hogs, and turkeys.  So, this turkey was literally fresh off the farm.  That gives it a slightly gamier quality, which gives the risotto an extra nuance.   

Ingredients:

4 cups broth

2 tablespoons lemon

1 bay leaf

1 tsp diced fresh rosemary

2 tbls olive oil

2 tbls butter

½ red onion, diced

½ cup of diced carrots

Pinch of salt and pepper

1 ½ cup Arborio rice

2/3 cup wine

1 cup diced turkey meat

½ cup parmesan cheese

Directions:

1.   Put the broth, lemon juice, bay leaf, and rosemary in a saucepan and warm it on a back burner. 

2.   In a large shallow pan over medium heat, add oil and butter to pan.  When butter has melted and the oil is hot, add the onions and carrots and a pinch of salt and pepper.  Sweat the onions and carrots for 5 minutes.   

3.   Add the Arborio to the same pan as the carrots and stir until the grain is translucent, except for a white dot in the center (about 5 minutes).  Add the wine and stir until completely absorbed.

4.   Add a ladleful of stock, stirring continually.  Wait until the stock is completely absorbed before adding another ladleful.  Continue to keep adding broth a ladleful at a time, only adding more once the broth is absorbed.  It should take about 20 minutes to get the risotto tender. 

5.   When the risotto is soft and you have added all but the last ½ cup of broth, add the turkey.  Then add the last ½ cup of stock and ¼ cup of parmesan cheese.   

6.   Cover with a lid and let finish over a low heat for about 5 minutes. 

Food Porn

A couple of months ago, I watched the South Park episode, “Creme Fraiche.” In the episode, Stan’s dad, Randy, starts becoming aroused by watching FoodNetwork and ends up using cooking as a sexual outlet. Since I am a bit of a FoodNetwork and food-themed show addict myself, I thought the show was particularly funny and, sadly, spot-on. When nothing else is on, I turn to FoodNetwork. Pretty soon, I’m eye-glued, mouth agape, and rapt. Although it isn’t sexual, it has to be a similar part of the brain.

I read two articles about the relationship between food and sex in Psychology Today. The first article, “Are you a Gastrosexual?” by Susan Albers, reports that a study conducted by PurAsia found that people who cook are thought to be more attractive. The second article, “The Relationship between Sex and Food” by Maryanne Fischer, talked about the many ways food and sex are tied. For one, she looks at foods, like avocados, tomatoes, and cheddar cheese, which release chemicals that are similar to chemicals released during sex . The food with the highest concentration of these chemicals is chocolate, which causes the brain to release both PEA, creating euphoria, and Dopamine, a chemical attached to "high" moments, like during an orgasm.

So, next date night you might want to consider cheddar fondue with avocados and tomatoes for the main course followed by chocolate fondue for dessert.

An article written by Mary Eberstadt for the Hoover Institution simply asks, “Is Food the New Sex?" In famous food quotes, Gael Greene phrases this question with the statement, "great food is like great sex. The more you have, the more you want." Garrison Keillor answers Eberstadt's question in the affirmative by saying "sex is good, but not as good as fresh, sweet corn."

Not only is food related by both senses and through brain chemistry, food can even look sensual. I remember in a photography class in high school, the teacher showed us a series of natural studies pictures by Edward Weston who turned mushrooms, peppers, and flowers into erotic objects. My favorite photograph of his is "Pepper #30,” which turns a pepper into a couple embracing. With the right lighting and the right lens, androgynous and asexual vegetables became seductive, sensual forms. What amazed me is how easily a piece of food could become a nude model.

Lately, because of this blog, my life is full of food porn. Photography of food to accompany recipes is a staple of food blogs. There are even several sites just for food photography, or food porn. A new favorite website, FoodFrenzy, is dedicated to "beautiful displays of food." Currently, there is so much food photography on the internet, it makes me wonder if food porn is on its way to becoming second only to real porn in internet hits.

It does always impress me to see what amazing things happen to food because of a camera lens. There is such lushness, such colors. There are swirling patterns, perfect drops, and delightfully amorphous shapes. There is life in it. There is sensuality in it. There is beauty in it.

Kathy's Restaurant

When I can’t get mom’s pancakes, I go to a local Staunton place called Kathy’s.  Unknowing people will hit Mrs. Rowe’s, which has a little more notoriety and does feature some mean pumpkin pancakes.  But, truth be told, Kathy’s is a better choice and the one that the locals go to.  I lived in Staunton for two years before anyone introduced me to Kathy’s, and I have always regretted the two years of my life when I could have been having breakfast there and wasn’t. 

I am not able to speak with too much authority on their non-breakfast items.  My friend Caroline, who introduced me to Kathy’s, ordered the grilled cheese on multiple occasions, and it always showed up dripping and gooey with cheese.  In the only time I ordered dinner I got a hamburger, which was suitably juicy and tasty, and a slice of cake, that was straight-forward, old-fashioned, moist and frosted yellow cake goodness.

Given that Kathy’s serves breakfast all day and they do it so well, I haven’t felt the need to deter much from that.  On my less pancake driven moments, I have had the French toast, which is awesome.  I’ve also enjoyed their grits with cheese (a southern girl’s breakfast food staple) with scrambled eggs and sausage biscuits.  I like to put the grits and eggs on the sausage biscuit to form a breakfast trifecta. 

But, most importantly, they have lots of gastronomically satisfying pancakes.  There are the traditional (buttermilk and buckwheat), the fruit topped (strawberry, apple, and blueberry, on top and inside if you like), and the decadent (chocolate chip and various roll combinations).  Then, there are the pancakes that set them apart from other pancake joints, and these are the meat pancakes.   You can get your pancakes, or waffles for that matter, with ham or bacon inside.  I tried the bacon ones and they are something to write home about.  The catch is that the bacon doesn’t really integrate into the pancakes and does have the effect of two pieces of bacon hiding under pancakes. 

The holy grail of Kathy’s is one of the meat pancakes not on the menu.  These are the sausage pancakes.  In these, there are little pieces of broken up sausage in the pancakes.  These are far more successful than the bacon because you are more likely for every pieces of pancake to have a corresponding piece of sausage, and that makes me happy.  I joked at the table once that I wondered if they would do a chocolate chip and bacon pancake; but, the table laughed and told me that was gross. Now, those two flavors are part of a flavor craze.  I was just ahead of my time. 

Kathy’s advertises as the restaurant that specializes in home cooking.  Although they can’t replace my mom’s pancakes, the certainly make a good effort. 

Applesauce

Some of my favorite memories of my mom is of making applesauce with her.  When I was studying abroad in England during my junior year, I even made a batch to remind myself of home.  I usually only make it in the Fall when apples are in season and I can go to Carter’s Mountain to get them fresh off the tree.  But, to continue off Sunday’s theme of pancakes, I went ahead and included a recipe for my favorite pancake accompaniment. 

Prep Time: 10 minutes

Cooking Time: 1 hour and 15 minutes

Ingredients

7 large apples

1 1/2 cup water*

Sugar or honey to taste

½ tsp cinnamon (more to taste)

¼  tsp nutmeg

Pinch of salt

*I like to experiment with flavoring the water I use to boil the apples.  Sometimes that infusion entails just boiling water and letting a cinnamon stick or ginger root (or both) seep for 10 minutes or so.  When I was making this recent batch, I used one chamomile tea bag and a left over piece of ginger root.  One day, I have some apple infused bourbon that I might try. 

Directions:

1.   Peel, core, and slice the apples.  I invested in an apple-peeler about a year ago and never looked back.  It peels, cores, and will cut every slice the same size.  Plus, it really cuts back on time.

2.   Place the apple slices in a 4-qt pot.  Then pour in about 1 ½ cups liquid.  Cover with a lid and cook over medium-high heat until the liquid starts to boil. 

3.   When the liquid starts to boil, stir the apples, moving the ones that have been cooking in the liquid to the top and allowing the ones on the top a chance to cook in the liquid. Cover the apples back up and reduce the heat to a low setting.  Cook for one hour.  Try to stir them every 10 minutes or so to get more even cooking. 

4.   At the hour mark, take the cover off the apples.  Break them up a little with a potato masher.  Cook an additional fifteen minutes without the lid to allow some of the liquid to cook off. 

5.   Once the apples are cooked, there are a couple options, use a hand-blender to breakdown the apples and smooth out the texture.    

6.   Add sugar (optional), cinnamon, and nutmeg.  Stir. 

My Mother's Pancakes

There are lots of foods that remind me of home and my mom, but the food I associate most with her are pancakes.  They were never made from Bisquick or from a mix.  That was a sin in my house.  When I was kid, there were pancakes served with cartoons.  When I came home from college, pancakes were my reward.   Even when I come home to visit as an adult, you guessed it, pancakes. 

This weekend, my brother, his girlfriend, and her brother were visiting my parents in Roanoke.  Because I missed the Saturday festivities, I went down early Sunday morning to be there for the pancake ritual.  It is a great feeling, having all of us sitting in the kitchen, catching up, and waiting for fluffy golden circles to brown on the griddle. 

I wish at times that things were as consistent and stable as pancakes.  I once taught a cinema-therapy class on the “quarter-life crisis.”  One of the points of discussion is on how your sense of family and home change in your twenties.  It is hard that moment when your immediate definition of family has to redefine and transition to account for budding independence and new homes.  New people come in and that further creates a sense of old family and new family. 

I saw this for the first time last Christmas.  Christmas has always been the four of us.  Last Christmas, we expanded to the 6 of us.  This was our first Christmas of immediate family and new family and that made for a really wonderful Christmas.  But, one day, new families may call on commitments to old family and so who knows what Christmas will look like next December. 

 I am currently in the middle of transition debate.  With my job, I’m making decisions about whether it is time to move on, a choice that would involve leaving Staunton.  My relationship is also at a transition point because my boyfriend is himself making larger life decisions.  Depending on these choices, "you and me” may replace "us."   My brother is in a transition state of being between jobs and making series steps in his relationship with a very wonderful woman.   Because of all these things and more, life is full of with uncertainty, fluctuation, and change. 

With this ongoing feeling of change in the air, pancakes with family are important reminders.  They are reminders of home, tradition, love, and being together.  Whatever changes in the family and in each of us, there will always be pancake breakfasts.  I know whenever I have kids, I will bring them home to my parents and my mom will make us pancakes.  We will sit with syrup and applesauce, watch my mom's fine-tuned griddle action, and be reminded of family.

What food reminds you most of your family?