Bloggin' Da Bomb
My family and I love to eat and shop along Devon Avenue on Chicago's far North side (in fact I've been doing some "research" on the fare of Good Morgen Fish for an upcoming post). Perhaps the area has special pull to me as my grandparents and great aunts and uncles all lived around there when I was in my Freudian period. Granted, I think none of them ever sampled nehari. Anyways, here's a blog focused on dining on Devon.
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
10th Market
Oak Park Farmer's Market 8/6/05
The One I Hate
I've said for a long time that I love the Oak Park Farmer's Market. I fetisize over local and seasonal food, and the market is the way to achieve local/seasonal. My market is especially grand because it has the ultra variety of Nicholl's market, local beef from Heartland, cool farmer's like Vicki, tons of Michigan fruit stands, speciality vinegar, macho melon men, cheese people, and the best darn farm in Illinois, Wettstein's. On top of all that, there is great donuts weekly, Hayes 18th century coffee (which I never understand) and a chance to run into bunch into all your friends and neighbors. But here's a secret. I hate the Oak Park Farmer's Market.
Well, I hate that it's on Saturday. I know, it is awfully petty of me, me who works in Oak Park to wish the market another day. I do not really seek the few squash blossoms all to myself, first choice of what the Wettstein's brought up, or the choicest apples. I just do not like the market on Saturday. See, we eat out a lot (well, we eat out a lot generally), but we eat out a lot over the weekends. The fruit can last through the week, but we cannot use as many vegetables as we can get. That's why I'd like the market to be on Tuesday, today.
Those squash blossoms on Saturday, passed them up. Same with the Turkish fire orange eggplants, the hot peppers, the heirloom tomatoes, the two kinds of cucumbers and the kind of intense, skinny celery I like to dress with anchovies. Passed it all up. What we got. All fruit. But what choices of fruit.
Summer apples: Macintoshes, state fair; plums, whose names I forgot, but the oblong deep blue Italian type and the rounder, harder large red; of course berries, black and blue; apricots, gosh darn amazing apricots. Today, I asked my wife, is there anything besides tomatoes that really, really (really) benefits from being local/seasonal, I mean not just better, but night and day better, and she said, yea, the apricots we got this week. Finally, we got big round, sweet clingstone peaches. Great, great fruit. Did I say I hated this market. Just kidding.
Oak Park Farmer's Market 8/6/05
The One I Hate
I've said for a long time that I love the Oak Park Farmer's Market. I fetisize over local and seasonal food, and the market is the way to achieve local/seasonal. My market is especially grand because it has the ultra variety of Nicholl's market, local beef from Heartland, cool farmer's like Vicki, tons of Michigan fruit stands, speciality vinegar, macho melon men, cheese people, and the best darn farm in Illinois, Wettstein's. On top of all that, there is great donuts weekly, Hayes 18th century coffee (which I never understand) and a chance to run into bunch into all your friends and neighbors. But here's a secret. I hate the Oak Park Farmer's Market.
Well, I hate that it's on Saturday. I know, it is awfully petty of me, me who works in Oak Park to wish the market another day. I do not really seek the few squash blossoms all to myself, first choice of what the Wettstein's brought up, or the choicest apples. I just do not like the market on Saturday. See, we eat out a lot (well, we eat out a lot generally), but we eat out a lot over the weekends. The fruit can last through the week, but we cannot use as many vegetables as we can get. That's why I'd like the market to be on Tuesday, today.
Those squash blossoms on Saturday, passed them up. Same with the Turkish fire orange eggplants, the hot peppers, the heirloom tomatoes, the two kinds of cucumbers and the kind of intense, skinny celery I like to dress with anchovies. Passed it all up. What we got. All fruit. But what choices of fruit.
Summer apples: Macintoshes, state fair; plums, whose names I forgot, but the oblong deep blue Italian type and the rounder, harder large red; of course berries, black and blue; apricots, gosh darn amazing apricots. Today, I asked my wife, is there anything besides tomatoes that really, really (really) benefits from being local/seasonal, I mean not just better, but night and day better, and she said, yea, the apricots we got this week. Finally, we got big round, sweet clingstone peaches. Great, great fruit. Did I say I hated this market. Just kidding.
Harry Potter
I was a late bloomer to Harry Potter. Harry Potter Book 1 came out before my younger daughter could read (odd there was ever such a time, as now, she reads with the intensity of Evelyn Wood's valedictorian). This meant that Mom and Dad read the book a little each night, but Mom read a lot more than Dad (generally), and surely more of this book. Without reading all the pages, Dad got the basic gist of the story, which seems so quaintly straightforward now... Book 2 was read even more by Mom, and Dad learned less. Book 3 was longer and more involved, and Dad paid almost no attention. In fact, Dad did not know about the time turner until the movie. Then a funny thing happened. Dad stumbled across one of the Potter web sites like The Harry Potter Lexicon. Dad read some of the background books on his weekly visits to Borders. It was not so much Harry that lured me in, it was all the fascinating backstory, the total world, the conspiracies, the intrigue, the double agents. No one told me there was a bit of LeCarre buried in these kidz stories. I never read book 4, but learned all its secrets. Book 5, I finally tackled, in like 3 days of solid reading. And it only got better.
Something, I am not quite sure what, prompted my wife to pick up Harry Potter Book 4, the Goblet of Fire, as a book on tape. We became enchanted and addicted to long car rides. It really is a story suited for oral telling, and Jim Dale who tells the stories, just makes it even better, better. Every character gets voiced distinctly and separately (although Ginny and Luna sound a bit too much a like). On one level, Dale's got a handle on every accent in the United Kingdom (and Eire), going from London to Edinburgh in a blink, upper-crust to cockney. On another level, he's acting. You get not just words but feelings. We zoomed through the long, involved Book 4, then went straight to the even longer Book 5 (less complex than Book 4, but more meaningful). We had a bit of gap between Book 5 and the release of Book 6, but we had the pleasure of Wisconsin to hold us off. We purchased our tapes for Book 6 on the way home. Finished them this week, although to be honest, I snuck away from my family and learned all the good parts ahead. Knowing what is gonna happen, but then hear them on the tape is very helpful. You pick things up you might not ahead of time. And while I was learning my secrets, I had my doubts, but now, I am pretty convinced. Read below if you wanna know my thoughts.
Be warned, the post below contains spoilers to Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince.
I was a late bloomer to Harry Potter. Harry Potter Book 1 came out before my younger daughter could read (odd there was ever such a time, as now, she reads with the intensity of Evelyn Wood's valedictorian). This meant that Mom and Dad read the book a little each night, but Mom read a lot more than Dad (generally), and surely more of this book. Without reading all the pages, Dad got the basic gist of the story, which seems so quaintly straightforward now... Book 2 was read even more by Mom, and Dad learned less. Book 3 was longer and more involved, and Dad paid almost no attention. In fact, Dad did not know about the time turner until the movie. Then a funny thing happened. Dad stumbled across one of the Potter web sites like The Harry Potter Lexicon. Dad read some of the background books on his weekly visits to Borders. It was not so much Harry that lured me in, it was all the fascinating backstory, the total world, the conspiracies, the intrigue, the double agents. No one told me there was a bit of LeCarre buried in these kidz stories. I never read book 4, but learned all its secrets. Book 5, I finally tackled, in like 3 days of solid reading. And it only got better.
Something, I am not quite sure what, prompted my wife to pick up Harry Potter Book 4, the Goblet of Fire, as a book on tape. We became enchanted and addicted to long car rides. It really is a story suited for oral telling, and Jim Dale who tells the stories, just makes it even better, better. Every character gets voiced distinctly and separately (although Ginny and Luna sound a bit too much a like). On one level, Dale's got a handle on every accent in the United Kingdom (and Eire), going from London to Edinburgh in a blink, upper-crust to cockney. On another level, he's acting. You get not just words but feelings. We zoomed through the long, involved Book 4, then went straight to the even longer Book 5 (less complex than Book 4, but more meaningful). We had a bit of gap between Book 5 and the release of Book 6, but we had the pleasure of Wisconsin to hold us off. We purchased our tapes for Book 6 on the way home. Finished them this week, although to be honest, I snuck away from my family and learned all the good parts ahead. Knowing what is gonna happen, but then hear them on the tape is very helpful. You pick things up you might not ahead of time. And while I was learning my secrets, I had my doubts, but now, I am pretty convinced. Read below if you wanna know my thoughts.
Be warned, the post below contains spoilers to Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince.
Harry Potter Book 6
Do Not Read Unless You Know or Wanna Know
Spoiler's Ahead
Spoiler Space
10
9
8
7
6
5
4
3
2
1
Wanna hear what I have to say?
Wanna know if I think Snape's Bad?
Read On:
EVIL:
Snape TELLS Bellatrix and Narcissa he's evil and makes the vow.
He KILLS DD.
He calls Voldemort the Dark Lord, well who else uses that term, and he *really* freaks out when Harry dare sez his name.
In Book 1, he supposedly saves Harry and confronts Quirrel "whose side are you on?", but if he had suspected Quirrel, why did he not turn him into DD. DD seemed unaware that one of his teachers was after the stone.
In Book 3, he is quick to get Sirius back to the Dementers
In Book 5, he lures Harry with the memory and then does not teach him. Besides *seeing* him kill Dumbledore, this is the most convincing evidence that he's bad. Why leave that memory so handy for the curious Harry unless you wanted him to see it. If learning occulmancy was SO important, why push him away?
Finally, Snapes been an all 'round awful person in all the books.
GOOD:
DD has said time and time again, that he trusts Snape.
DD basically never argues. Why was he arguing with Snape. Perhaps because Snape did not want to do what DD wanted, like kill him.
He fixes a potion to heal DD after DD's hand get's fried from the ring horcrux. When DD drinks the potion in the lake, he WANTS Snape (presumably for another potion).
DD gives Snape the DADA position, knowing the holder only lasts one year. Where did he think Snape was gonna go after the year's position?
Snape tipped off the Order to the attack on Harry and the kidz in Book 5 (he sez he helped "get" Sirius, but I do not think the DE wanted a fight).
The events surrounding the tower attack are quite odd. If Snape has shown his true colors, why would he not be more rampant in his attacking? Flitwick does not remark that he was attacked by Snape, so it seems true that he did not attack Flitwick. Why would he just leave Herminione and others. Why would it appear that he is not attacking Harry but still teaching him at the end.
So, my general theory (which I actually had going into Book 6): Harry is gonna have to team up with all 4 houses to defeat Voldy. That has basically been the message from the sorting hat since book 4. Essentially there will be one big coalition of gobblins, elves, the 4 houses, the 3 schools--I think there will be something to do with the uniting that will be a powerful force. Now...
...what Snape was doing at the end was not scurrying Malfoy back to the dark lord, he was taking him to the witness protection program, so to speak. The whole set up in the tower was to save/redeem/convert Malfoy. And it worked. At the end of the day, he would not kill DD (and he felt bad about getting the werewolve in). I think the 7th book will start with Malfoy in hiding at Grimauld Place. Remember, DD told Malfoy he could be hidden in death. That's where DD is, hiden. In death.
Do Not Read Unless You Know or Wanna Know
Spoiler's Ahead
Spoiler Space
10
9
8
7
6
5
4
3
2
1
Wanna hear what I have to say?
Wanna know if I think Snape's Bad?
Read On:
EVIL:
Snape TELLS Bellatrix and Narcissa he's evil and makes the vow.
He KILLS DD.
He calls Voldemort the Dark Lord, well who else uses that term, and he *really* freaks out when Harry dare sez his name.
In Book 1, he supposedly saves Harry and confronts Quirrel "whose side are you on?", but if he had suspected Quirrel, why did he not turn him into DD. DD seemed unaware that one of his teachers was after the stone.
In Book 3, he is quick to get Sirius back to the Dementers
In Book 5, he lures Harry with the memory and then does not teach him. Besides *seeing* him kill Dumbledore, this is the most convincing evidence that he's bad. Why leave that memory so handy for the curious Harry unless you wanted him to see it. If learning occulmancy was SO important, why push him away?
Finally, Snapes been an all 'round awful person in all the books.
GOOD:
DD has said time and time again, that he trusts Snape.
DD basically never argues. Why was he arguing with Snape. Perhaps because Snape did not want to do what DD wanted, like kill him.
He fixes a potion to heal DD after DD's hand get's fried from the ring horcrux. When DD drinks the potion in the lake, he WANTS Snape (presumably for another potion).
DD gives Snape the DADA position, knowing the holder only lasts one year. Where did he think Snape was gonna go after the year's position?
Snape tipped off the Order to the attack on Harry and the kidz in Book 5 (he sez he helped "get" Sirius, but I do not think the DE wanted a fight).
The events surrounding the tower attack are quite odd. If Snape has shown his true colors, why would he not be more rampant in his attacking? Flitwick does not remark that he was attacked by Snape, so it seems true that he did not attack Flitwick. Why would he just leave Herminione and others. Why would it appear that he is not attacking Harry but still teaching him at the end.
So, my general theory (which I actually had going into Book 6): Harry is gonna have to team up with all 4 houses to defeat Voldy. That has basically been the message from the sorting hat since book 4. Essentially there will be one big coalition of gobblins, elves, the 4 houses, the 3 schools--I think there will be something to do with the uniting that will be a powerful force. Now...
...what Snape was doing at the end was not scurrying Malfoy back to the dark lord, he was taking him to the witness protection program, so to speak. The whole set up in the tower was to save/redeem/convert Malfoy. And it worked. At the end of the day, he would not kill DD (and he felt bad about getting the werewolve in). I think the 7th book will start with Malfoy in hiding at Grimauld Place. Remember, DD told Malfoy he could be hidden in death. That's where DD is, hiden. In death.
Tuesday, August 02, 2005
Pal Do Kang San
Good Enough without Coals
I REALLY wanted to hit the frozen custard place on Rt 45 after the Lake County Fair, but we just did not time it right. I zig-zagged thru "downtown" Mundelein looking for a suitable place to get actual food first, but failed. We ended up on Rt. 21 and I cruised back towards urbanity. Thought for a bit that we'd hit the Pita Inn in Wheeling, then decided for Korean 'cause as much fun as the 1000th member LTH party was, it kinda left us needing more Korean food.
Since I took the slow way from Oak Park to the Lake County Fair, we had passed Pal Do Kang San on the way to the fair. It's on River Road right before it merges with Milwaukee in Prospect Heights. There was a big sign for BBQ, and that's what we wanted. We were highly dissapointed when they started setting up the gas grill. You do loose a lot of flavor when the meat is cooked on gas, and you also do not get the same degree of carmelization. That said, it was still a nice place (which is why it's worth posting about.)
What made Pal Do Kang San special was its service. They could not have been nicer, from manufacturing a set of starter chopsticks for Sophia to the contsant re-filling of panchan, to the final gesture of tiny bottles of odd spritzy sweet milky something provided to us, their warmth made the night.
The menu is only partially devoted to BBQ. We tried kalbi, pork bulgogi in a spicy marinade, and chicken bulgogi with no marinade. Because the pork's marination was especially good, it stood out, but everything was good enough (for gas). The chicken and pork came with onions and scallions that grilled up nicely for relish. Other things we could have BBQ'd included pork neck and eel. But like I say, the menu has a bunch of other stuff too ranging from loanch tang (mudfish stew) to fish egg tang. There are also a few dishes for two including black goat stew. I might not run out to this place from the city, but if I lived close by or was passing by as I was, it seems nice.
Pal Do Kang San
1250 S. River Road
Prospect Heights, IL
847-808-8822
Good Enough without Coals
I REALLY wanted to hit the frozen custard place on Rt 45 after the Lake County Fair, but we just did not time it right. I zig-zagged thru "downtown" Mundelein looking for a suitable place to get actual food first, but failed. We ended up on Rt. 21 and I cruised back towards urbanity. Thought for a bit that we'd hit the Pita Inn in Wheeling, then decided for Korean 'cause as much fun as the 1000th member LTH party was, it kinda left us needing more Korean food.
Since I took the slow way from Oak Park to the Lake County Fair, we had passed Pal Do Kang San on the way to the fair. It's on River Road right before it merges with Milwaukee in Prospect Heights. There was a big sign for BBQ, and that's what we wanted. We were highly dissapointed when they started setting up the gas grill. You do loose a lot of flavor when the meat is cooked on gas, and you also do not get the same degree of carmelization. That said, it was still a nice place (which is why it's worth posting about.)
What made Pal Do Kang San special was its service. They could not have been nicer, from manufacturing a set of starter chopsticks for Sophia to the contsant re-filling of panchan, to the final gesture of tiny bottles of odd spritzy sweet milky something provided to us, their warmth made the night.
The menu is only partially devoted to BBQ. We tried kalbi, pork bulgogi in a spicy marinade, and chicken bulgogi with no marinade. Because the pork's marination was especially good, it stood out, but everything was good enough (for gas). The chicken and pork came with onions and scallions that grilled up nicely for relish. Other things we could have BBQ'd included pork neck and eel. But like I say, the menu has a bunch of other stuff too ranging from loanch tang (mudfish stew) to fish egg tang. There are also a few dishes for two including black goat stew. I might not run out to this place from the city, but if I lived close by or was passing by as I was, it seems nice.
Pal Do Kang San
1250 S. River Road
Prospect Heights, IL
847-808-8822
9th Market
Oak Park Farmer's Market 7/30/05
No data this week, although I would appreciate any reports in the comments (or you can e-mail them to me). We swept off to the Lake County Fair without time for the Farmer's Market. We thought maybe we'd pick up something up in Lake County, but we never did. Anyways, for what it's worth, I can imagine the market this time of year pretty easily: big truck of corn at The Farm, baskets of potatoes in 20 varieties at Nicholl's Farm, emerging tomatoes and tons of fruits. I wonder how cherries are holding but peaches have to be in full force.
See ya next week (I hope!)
Oak Park Farmer's Market 7/30/05
No data this week, although I would appreciate any reports in the comments (or you can e-mail them to me). We swept off to the Lake County Fair without time for the Farmer's Market. We thought maybe we'd pick up something up in Lake County, but we never did. Anyways, for what it's worth, I can imagine the market this time of year pretty easily: big truck of corn at The Farm, baskets of potatoes in 20 varieties at Nicholl's Farm, emerging tomatoes and tons of fruits. I wonder how cherries are holding but peaches have to be in full force.
See ya next week (I hope!)
Friday, July 29, 2005
Amanacer Tapatio in Joliet, Illinois
The Best Mexican Food I Have Tasted Around Here
I am gonna skip the Amanacer Tapatio back story. It's been told before. I am writing to say that in my humble opinion, AT, might be, could be, perhaps is, just maybe is the best Mexican restaurant in the area (and I have to use the term area loosely because Joliet is FAR AWAY). Now, I have been to Casa de Bayless y Casa de Bahena many a time, but I have not been to their tipy-top offerings, so I admit upfront that my sample is incomplete. And, obviously, there are a lot of Mexican restaurants around--too many to sample. Still, when I savored the carne de res entomates verde or beef stew in a green tomato gravy, I was convinced, like an epiphany, that this had to be the best Mexican food around Northern Illinois.
The other day, some foodie friends of mine were talking about a Vietnamese 7 course of beef meal they had in NYC. They remarked that in a meal that showcased beef, it failed because the quality of the beef did not pass muster. There are times that the quality of raw materials limits inexpensive dining. Then there is Amanacer Tapatio. And times that a $20 meal can be as good as anything. Amanacer Tapatio buys market produce, cheap meat, but through alchemy produce food that tastes just simply incredible. I am not sure. Is it that when they visit the vegetable wholesaler they just have a better eye than their competitors? Do the shop more often so that they maximize freshness from produce that is not that fresh to begin with (as compared to produce grown locally). I tend to think it is more to do with them knowing exactly how much to season their food, the perfect amount of chile to bring out flavor but not to overpower. I also think there is some raw power, some innate deliciousness to the ingredients that make up AT's cuisine. The stuff cannot help but be good. Good turned into great with the amount of effort, care and skill the staff of AT put into their daily offerings.
As it has been noted, you eat what they cooked that day (specials written on the board). It is like coming over to Mama's casa para comida. You nibble on chips with two table salsas, each as good as the other, both absolutely simple in recipe* while things are finished for you. The meal proper always start with fresh made guacamole and house made, fresh tortillas and then moves on to salad (which always stumps our Northern palates that seek dressing). Honestly, I really do not do much with the plain lettuce but others improvise using the green salsa. Last night, I did enjoy, like crudite, some sliced cucumbers and rose cut radishes that I gave a good hard shake of salt.
Although I doing a bit of a disservice to the guacamole to say the first real dish was the sopa, the soup, it was. We took two or three steps up in flavor, complexity and satisfaction with the soup. I did not bother the house for the soup recipe (they will explain nearly all), but it looked almost like a brothed up version of the green salsa, the soup also featuring simmered tomatillos. Inside this green potion were chunks of pork "spine" i.e., meat from the vertebrae, potatoes, string beans, and Mexican green squash (calabeza). Again, the vegetables seemed to rise from their origins. After soup it was platters of rice, beans made in house with a glorious amount of lard (whole beans and frijoles refrito), two entrees: the aforementioned beef stew, plus chicken legs mixiote or cooked in a wrapper (I'll come back to this in a sec.), plus a side dish of corn kernels, calabeza chunks, and whole jalepenos, drizzled with crema, Mexican sour cream that is plainly, richly better than "our" sour cream, and sprinkled with some fresh cheese. I clamored for a dessert to wrap this up, but that is just not the tradition.
The mixiote, mixiote is the Mexican version of cooking en parchment or steaming in a packet. Traditionally, banana leaves are used as the wrap and often fresh herbs play a big role. AT compromised with aluminum foil and dried hoja de santo. The chicken still tasted plenty infused with a licorish-y liquid from the herb. My dear, foodie daughter, loved the beef, saying it reminded her of cholent. She just finds any delicious soft beef thing to be like cholent regardless that no Bubbe would produce anything like this intense stew.
It IS a long ride to Joliet, but there are stretches along the Des Plaines River that are a lot more scenic than generally found in these parts. There is even a stretch that amounts to a bluff. Right before hitting AT, there is the now abandoned, movie-set worthy, 20 foot high wall of Joliet limestone, old Federal Pen. That alone makes the drive worthwhile. Dinner at the best Mexican restaurant in the area just makes it better.
Amanacer Tapatio 573 Collins St Joliet, IL 60432 (815) 727-4001
*Monica, Mama's daughter and our hostess, gave me the directions for the salsas. Green is made from simmering tomatillos and jalepenos in water, then blending with garlic and a bit of salt, surprisingly, no lime. The red salsa substitutes red tomatoes and chile de arbol. The chiles are not re-hydrated but sparked up on the griddle; the red tomatoes also simmered in water.
The Best Mexican Food I Have Tasted Around Here
I am gonna skip the Amanacer Tapatio back story. It's been told before. I am writing to say that in my humble opinion, AT, might be, could be, perhaps is, just maybe is the best Mexican restaurant in the area (and I have to use the term area loosely because Joliet is FAR AWAY). Now, I have been to Casa de Bayless y Casa de Bahena many a time, but I have not been to their tipy-top offerings, so I admit upfront that my sample is incomplete. And, obviously, there are a lot of Mexican restaurants around--too many to sample. Still, when I savored the carne de res entomates verde or beef stew in a green tomato gravy, I was convinced, like an epiphany, that this had to be the best Mexican food around Northern Illinois.
The other day, some foodie friends of mine were talking about a Vietnamese 7 course of beef meal they had in NYC. They remarked that in a meal that showcased beef, it failed because the quality of the beef did not pass muster. There are times that the quality of raw materials limits inexpensive dining. Then there is Amanacer Tapatio. And times that a $20 meal can be as good as anything. Amanacer Tapatio buys market produce, cheap meat, but through alchemy produce food that tastes just simply incredible. I am not sure. Is it that when they visit the vegetable wholesaler they just have a better eye than their competitors? Do the shop more often so that they maximize freshness from produce that is not that fresh to begin with (as compared to produce grown locally). I tend to think it is more to do with them knowing exactly how much to season their food, the perfect amount of chile to bring out flavor but not to overpower. I also think there is some raw power, some innate deliciousness to the ingredients that make up AT's cuisine. The stuff cannot help but be good. Good turned into great with the amount of effort, care and skill the staff of AT put into their daily offerings.
As it has been noted, you eat what they cooked that day (specials written on the board). It is like coming over to Mama's casa para comida. You nibble on chips with two table salsas, each as good as the other, both absolutely simple in recipe* while things are finished for you. The meal proper always start with fresh made guacamole and house made, fresh tortillas and then moves on to salad (which always stumps our Northern palates that seek dressing). Honestly, I really do not do much with the plain lettuce but others improvise using the green salsa. Last night, I did enjoy, like crudite, some sliced cucumbers and rose cut radishes that I gave a good hard shake of salt.
Although I doing a bit of a disservice to the guacamole to say the first real dish was the sopa, the soup, it was. We took two or three steps up in flavor, complexity and satisfaction with the soup. I did not bother the house for the soup recipe (they will explain nearly all), but it looked almost like a brothed up version of the green salsa, the soup also featuring simmered tomatillos. Inside this green potion were chunks of pork "spine" i.e., meat from the vertebrae, potatoes, string beans, and Mexican green squash (calabeza). Again, the vegetables seemed to rise from their origins. After soup it was platters of rice, beans made in house with a glorious amount of lard (whole beans and frijoles refrito), two entrees: the aforementioned beef stew, plus chicken legs mixiote or cooked in a wrapper (I'll come back to this in a sec.), plus a side dish of corn kernels, calabeza chunks, and whole jalepenos, drizzled with crema, Mexican sour cream that is plainly, richly better than "our" sour cream, and sprinkled with some fresh cheese. I clamored for a dessert to wrap this up, but that is just not the tradition.
The mixiote, mixiote is the Mexican version of cooking en parchment or steaming in a packet. Traditionally, banana leaves are used as the wrap and often fresh herbs play a big role. AT compromised with aluminum foil and dried hoja de santo. The chicken still tasted plenty infused with a licorish-y liquid from the herb. My dear, foodie daughter, loved the beef, saying it reminded her of cholent. She just finds any delicious soft beef thing to be like cholent regardless that no Bubbe would produce anything like this intense stew.
It IS a long ride to Joliet, but there are stretches along the Des Plaines River that are a lot more scenic than generally found in these parts. There is even a stretch that amounts to a bluff. Right before hitting AT, there is the now abandoned, movie-set worthy, 20 foot high wall of Joliet limestone, old Federal Pen. That alone makes the drive worthwhile. Dinner at the best Mexican restaurant in the area just makes it better.
Amanacer Tapatio 573 Collins St Joliet, IL 60432 (815) 727-4001
*Monica, Mama's daughter and our hostess, gave me the directions for the salsas. Green is made from simmering tomatillos and jalepenos in water, then blending with garlic and a bit of salt, surprisingly, no lime. The red salsa substitutes red tomatoes and chile de arbol. The chiles are not re-hydrated but sparked up on the griddle; the red tomatoes also simmered in water.
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Phil Vettel Game
I've generally been impressed with the food writing in the new At Play section of the Chicago Tribune, but do you think that we have a winner in the Phil Vettel game with this week's effort.
I've generally been impressed with the food writing in the new At Play section of the Chicago Tribune, but do you think that we have a winner in the Phil Vettel game with this week's effort.
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
8th Market
Oak Park Farmer's Market 7/23/05
Well, it poured five minutes after we arrived, which meant I did ate my donut on the run and just did not have the spirit to "take-in" the market. It's a shame my timing was so off, as things are really bloomin'. Just one glance at Nicholl's, where the Condiment Queen already shopped while I got a soggy donut, and I saw something as interesting as Armenian cucumbers. I did also see that The Farm, a local truck farm made their first apperance. They sell their corn from the same trailer they harves it from, and this vehicle really "completes" the market. It is no longer a parking lot. Still, it was mostly a fruit market for me this week.
There was exotica, white currents, and Americana, sweet and sour cherries; berries in various shapes and sizes and all the stone fruits. I relished it all and wonder why anyone would want fruit hauled in from distant states.
See ya next week.
Oak Park Farmer's Market 7/23/05
Well, it poured five minutes after we arrived, which meant I did ate my donut on the run and just did not have the spirit to "take-in" the market. It's a shame my timing was so off, as things are really bloomin'. Just one glance at Nicholl's, where the Condiment Queen already shopped while I got a soggy donut, and I saw something as interesting as Armenian cucumbers. I did also see that The Farm, a local truck farm made their first apperance. They sell their corn from the same trailer they harves it from, and this vehicle really "completes" the market. It is no longer a parking lot. Still, it was mostly a fruit market for me this week.
There was exotica, white currents, and Americana, sweet and sour cherries; berries in various shapes and sizes and all the stone fruits. I relished it all and wonder why anyone would want fruit hauled in from distant states.
See ya next week.
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
Getting Fat in Wisconsin
Part Two
I warned you last time that you get fat in Wisconsin because even something as seemingly healthy as spinach-feta pie comes with a little extra buttah, but I did not warn you of some of those more insidious uses of butter. Surely, to prop up the prices, support the family farmer, Wisconsinites make sure that everything is buttered. I told you that the Manitowoc made brat and Little Penny at Penguin were nice. I did not reveal the secret that made them nicer. Butter. Both sammys get served on a buttered Wisconsin “semmel” roll. I love the way the semmel is dressed for the brat brown mildly spicy mustard on the bottom, buttered on top. It is not just your sandwiches that come buttered. Nearly all the bread in Wisconsin comes buttered for you, relieving the stress of such physical activity (actually relieving the stress of dealing with often cold butter, no?). At Penguin Drive-In, the Chowhoundintas got the chicken finger deal; which included, buttered bread slices. All the time, our meals came with buttered bread. At the end of the line at the Washington Island Fly-In Lion’s Club annual fish boil (see below), after getting our fish, potatoes, onions doused with melted butter, we were handed tiny slices of cocktail rye, slathered, of course, in butter. KK Fiske’s house made bread underneath the butter was so good; I had no choice but to consume butter. I am this week, much fatter than last.
You get fat in Wisconsin because you visit a fish fry on Friday. We did. A tough call. Washington Island has a surprisingly number of good restaurants. What makes eating fish on Washington Island especially good is that the fish on your plate was in the water not that long ago. Boats bring in daily catches of perch, whitefish and burbot, more commonly called lawyers. OK, perch may not be there every day, but KK Fiske offers nuggets of fried lawyers daily. This is a fish that purportedly cannot last in the market more than 2 days, nor can it be effectively frozen, and the rest of the nation’s loss is Washington Island’s gain. Since we ate at KK Fiske already and Findlay’s Friday fish fry featured nothing but fish (and the kidz sadly do not want to eat fish), we decided to try Carly’s Cellar. Fine, fine choice. Carly’s expertly deep fried the perch, offering it up with sweet cole slaw and hash browns. I never reported on my last Friday fish fry in Wisconsin, at Historic Turner Hall, in the gentrified in a good way, 3rd Street area of Milwaukee. Turner Hall perch cannot reach the sweetness of Washington Island perch, but the highly preserved 19th century hall makes this a Friday fish fry worth trying.
Not all fish in Wisconsin comes fried. They broil whitefish all the time. Granted, at the Sister Bay Bowl (supper club) they top broiled whitefish with yummy crunchy fried onion bits (which combine nicely with the paprika fish coating). Broiled whitefish in Illinois seems like an afterthought, something old Jewish couples still order for some long forgotten reason. It is not a fish with young fans. Today’s Chicago Tribune food section notes that at Shaw’s Crabhouse, whitefish does not sell nearly as well as Atlantic salmon. While I doubt this is explains it, but if you eat broiled whitefish in Wisconsin, you get spoiled to other broiled whitefish. At Sailor’s Pub on the southern harbor on Washington Island, the broiled whitefish is as thick and plump as a swordfish steak. You might stay thin(er) with this fish, but Sailor’s Pub serves some pretty good crinkle-cut fries with the broiled fish.
Boiled fish seems safely dietetic, but who eats boiled fish plain. Everyone sez that Door County fish boils are excuses to drink in vast quantities of melted butter. At the LTH 1000 member gala, a few people talked down the fish boil. A New England clam bake without the benefit of clams or lobster they said. Well, let me tell you. I happen to like fresh lake whitefish better than clams (a rather over-rated foodstuff in my opinion). And I think the fish boil was unfairly maligned, at least the fish boils we tried. They, the mythic they, also say that fish boils are strictly for tourists. I think not. KK Fiske on Washington Island boils fish a few times each week. I would not call this place touristy at all. I also noted at some point, that we had the VERY good fortune of being on Washington Island the week of its annual Island fish boil held at the Island airport (nothing more than a big patch of mowed lawn with pylons delineating the runway). A lot of people gathered under big tents for fish, potatoes, sweet onions (the boil really brings out the sweetness in the onions), potatoes, cole slaw, and assorted cakes baked by the moms of Washington Island.
You know what fish boil reminded me of? Don’t laugh…Texas BBQ. Surely they differ in approach. One is cooked with extreme violence, water so hot it explodes in famous flames, the other cooked low and slow, some Texas brisket taking over a day to finish. Yet, both products are elemental yet complex in flavor. Each method of cooking makes the product exactly right, and the butter enhances just right as BBQ sauce enhances Q. Of course, watch out for bones with the fish boil.
You get fat in Wisconsin because you eat dessert. The Washington Island annual fish boil ended with cake, a surprise. Mostly you eat pie or pie-ish things. KK Fiske had a cherry crisp and Carly’s Cellar had cherry-raspberry pie baked, so we were told, a few hours earlier. On the way home on 42, we stopped at Sweetie Pies, which sells whole fruit pies, pie slices and mid-sized “cutie pies.” All the pies featured butter-shortening crusts. You get fat in Wisconsin because if you skip the pie, you stop for frozen custard.
Several months ago, we tried Gilley’s and Leon’s in Milwaukee. Gilley’s was good, a little too much like softserv. Leon’s was greatly dense. Now, it does not have to be frozen custard. Wilson’s has been serving large scoop ice cream in Ephraim for almost 100 years. We wanted to try, but our motel proprietor in Sister Bay suggested Not Licked Yet custard in Fish Creek as better. We pulled into Not Licked Yet’s troll guarded lot at a bit after 10:30 on a Sunday morning just as Al Johnson’s Swedish pancakes were moving past our gullets. Custard would make a nice mid-morning snack. We thought we heard them say 11 as the opening time, and we waited, feeding ducks. When it turned out that it was 11:30, we decided to move on to lunch. After lunch we custarded at the closer to where we then were, Malibu Moo’s. Malibu Moo’s does the “granite griddle”, their version of the cold stone. Cutesy but effective as I really enjoyed the plain vanilla custard with Door County tart cherries. The night before we tried Door County Ice Cream Factory, Door County cherry, cherry ice cream. Another reason why I got fat in Wisconsin, although as good as this cherry ice cream was, I preferred the interplay of plain custard against plump cherries compared to cherry ice cream.
Perhaps I’ll spend the rest of the year dieting, making room to get fat again on Washington Island, in Door County, and all over Wisconsin. There is the Norwegian restaurant to try in Sister Bay, supper clubs to compare. Carly’s Cellar had the requisite relish tray with dill dip but Sister Bay Bowl did not. What is THE supper club? I will make it sooner than later to Charcoal Inn and pronounce my judgment on Sheboygan brats vs. Manitowoc brats. I’ll get to Not Licked Yet when it is open and try Wilson’s fer sure. I like getting fat in Wisconsin.
Part Two
I warned you last time that you get fat in Wisconsin because even something as seemingly healthy as spinach-feta pie comes with a little extra buttah, but I did not warn you of some of those more insidious uses of butter. Surely, to prop up the prices, support the family farmer, Wisconsinites make sure that everything is buttered. I told you that the Manitowoc made brat and Little Penny at Penguin were nice. I did not reveal the secret that made them nicer. Butter. Both sammys get served on a buttered Wisconsin “semmel” roll. I love the way the semmel is dressed for the brat brown mildly spicy mustard on the bottom, buttered on top. It is not just your sandwiches that come buttered. Nearly all the bread in Wisconsin comes buttered for you, relieving the stress of such physical activity (actually relieving the stress of dealing with often cold butter, no?). At Penguin Drive-In, the Chowhoundintas got the chicken finger deal; which included, buttered bread slices. All the time, our meals came with buttered bread. At the end of the line at the Washington Island Fly-In Lion’s Club annual fish boil (see below), after getting our fish, potatoes, onions doused with melted butter, we were handed tiny slices of cocktail rye, slathered, of course, in butter. KK Fiske’s house made bread underneath the butter was so good; I had no choice but to consume butter. I am this week, much fatter than last.
You get fat in Wisconsin because you visit a fish fry on Friday. We did. A tough call. Washington Island has a surprisingly number of good restaurants. What makes eating fish on Washington Island especially good is that the fish on your plate was in the water not that long ago. Boats bring in daily catches of perch, whitefish and burbot, more commonly called lawyers. OK, perch may not be there every day, but KK Fiske offers nuggets of fried lawyers daily. This is a fish that purportedly cannot last in the market more than 2 days, nor can it be effectively frozen, and the rest of the nation’s loss is Washington Island’s gain. Since we ate at KK Fiske already and Findlay’s Friday fish fry featured nothing but fish (and the kidz sadly do not want to eat fish), we decided to try Carly’s Cellar. Fine, fine choice. Carly’s expertly deep fried the perch, offering it up with sweet cole slaw and hash browns. I never reported on my last Friday fish fry in Wisconsin, at Historic Turner Hall, in the gentrified in a good way, 3rd Street area of Milwaukee. Turner Hall perch cannot reach the sweetness of Washington Island perch, but the highly preserved 19th century hall makes this a Friday fish fry worth trying.
Not all fish in Wisconsin comes fried. They broil whitefish all the time. Granted, at the Sister Bay Bowl (supper club) they top broiled whitefish with yummy crunchy fried onion bits (which combine nicely with the paprika fish coating). Broiled whitefish in Illinois seems like an afterthought, something old Jewish couples still order for some long forgotten reason. It is not a fish with young fans. Today’s Chicago Tribune food section notes that at Shaw’s Crabhouse, whitefish does not sell nearly as well as Atlantic salmon. While I doubt this is explains it, but if you eat broiled whitefish in Wisconsin, you get spoiled to other broiled whitefish. At Sailor’s Pub on the southern harbor on Washington Island, the broiled whitefish is as thick and plump as a swordfish steak. You might stay thin(er) with this fish, but Sailor’s Pub serves some pretty good crinkle-cut fries with the broiled fish.
Boiled fish seems safely dietetic, but who eats boiled fish plain. Everyone sez that Door County fish boils are excuses to drink in vast quantities of melted butter. At the LTH 1000 member gala, a few people talked down the fish boil. A New England clam bake without the benefit of clams or lobster they said. Well, let me tell you. I happen to like fresh lake whitefish better than clams (a rather over-rated foodstuff in my opinion). And I think the fish boil was unfairly maligned, at least the fish boils we tried. They, the mythic they, also say that fish boils are strictly for tourists. I think not. KK Fiske on Washington Island boils fish a few times each week. I would not call this place touristy at all. I also noted at some point, that we had the VERY good fortune of being on Washington Island the week of its annual Island fish boil held at the Island airport (nothing more than a big patch of mowed lawn with pylons delineating the runway). A lot of people gathered under big tents for fish, potatoes, sweet onions (the boil really brings out the sweetness in the onions), potatoes, cole slaw, and assorted cakes baked by the moms of Washington Island.
You know what fish boil reminded me of? Don’t laugh…Texas BBQ. Surely they differ in approach. One is cooked with extreme violence, water so hot it explodes in famous flames, the other cooked low and slow, some Texas brisket taking over a day to finish. Yet, both products are elemental yet complex in flavor. Each method of cooking makes the product exactly right, and the butter enhances just right as BBQ sauce enhances Q. Of course, watch out for bones with the fish boil.
You get fat in Wisconsin because you eat dessert. The Washington Island annual fish boil ended with cake, a surprise. Mostly you eat pie or pie-ish things. KK Fiske had a cherry crisp and Carly’s Cellar had cherry-raspberry pie baked, so we were told, a few hours earlier. On the way home on 42, we stopped at Sweetie Pies, which sells whole fruit pies, pie slices and mid-sized “cutie pies.” All the pies featured butter-shortening crusts. You get fat in Wisconsin because if you skip the pie, you stop for frozen custard.
Several months ago, we tried Gilley’s and Leon’s in Milwaukee. Gilley’s was good, a little too much like softserv. Leon’s was greatly dense. Now, it does not have to be frozen custard. Wilson’s has been serving large scoop ice cream in Ephraim for almost 100 years. We wanted to try, but our motel proprietor in Sister Bay suggested Not Licked Yet custard in Fish Creek as better. We pulled into Not Licked Yet’s troll guarded lot at a bit after 10:30 on a Sunday morning just as Al Johnson’s Swedish pancakes were moving past our gullets. Custard would make a nice mid-morning snack. We thought we heard them say 11 as the opening time, and we waited, feeding ducks. When it turned out that it was 11:30, we decided to move on to lunch. After lunch we custarded at the closer to where we then were, Malibu Moo’s. Malibu Moo’s does the “granite griddle”, their version of the cold stone. Cutesy but effective as I really enjoyed the plain vanilla custard with Door County tart cherries. The night before we tried Door County Ice Cream Factory, Door County cherry, cherry ice cream. Another reason why I got fat in Wisconsin, although as good as this cherry ice cream was, I preferred the interplay of plain custard against plump cherries compared to cherry ice cream.
Perhaps I’ll spend the rest of the year dieting, making room to get fat again on Washington Island, in Door County, and all over Wisconsin. There is the Norwegian restaurant to try in Sister Bay, supper clubs to compare. Carly’s Cellar had the requisite relish tray with dill dip but Sister Bay Bowl did not. What is THE supper club? I will make it sooner than later to Charcoal Inn and pronounce my judgment on Sheboygan brats vs. Manitowoc brats. I’ll get to Not Licked Yet when it is open and try Wilson’s fer sure. I like getting fat in Wisconsin.
Getting Fat in Wisconsin
Part One
We did not eat our last meal in Wisconsin as planned. Leaving the Door peninsula for the near perfect farmland (yes EVERY barn is red) and occasional industrial town that is Wisconsin 42, we passed a couple of good looking and seemingly crowded supper clubs, but I was supper clubbed out. We also passed the good looking and seemingly crowded Kewaunee Custard shop, but I was oddly enough, frozen custarded out—well, I had eaten frozen custard not that much earlier at Malibu Moo’s in Fish Creek. And while the Condiment Queen pined for a drive-in offering bison burgers right across the street from a bison farm, I asked for the favor of moving on to Sheboygan. I wanted a quick brat, a Sheboygan brat, at Sheboygan’s famed Charcoal Inn. I figured, how often does one pass through Sheboygan during dinner time, or even make it a point to drive through Sheboygan at any time (and having now driven through Sheboygan at dinner time, I can see why it is off the radar, a sadly deteriorated town). Yet, I will return one day to Sheboygan because the Charcoal Inn closes on Sunday. This forced us to the next closest eating place, Annabel’s Family Restaurant.
I did not think much of Annabel’s, but it provided me with the perfect dish, the dish that perhaps sums up eating in Wisconsin. I knew for a while that the theme of my Wisconsin report, the theme of four visits to Wisconsin this year: Getting Fat. Now, many people have seen me at various Chowhound/LTH events over the years, and they know that I am surely on the Hardy side of Laurel and. If I spent more time up there, I’d look even more like Ollie. Why? In Wisconsin if you go to Annabel’s Family Restaurant, a “local greek” with the standard big menu and ordered the local greek with the big menu standard, spinach-feta pie, you would get a pie, compact from being pressed and cooked on the griddle like a burgers. The griddle adds a bit of flavor, however, it would not be enough flavor to make it Wisconsin worthy. In Wisconsin, your flattish, spinach-feta pie comes with a golf ball sized knob of melting butter on top.
You get fat in Wisconsin because when you visit Findlay’s Holiday Inn on Washington Island for breakfast, they point you to a bar for fresh made donuts to relieve the morning pang (before ordering). Of course, you may be like me and have already snuck a donut from a small stash of buttermilk donuts sold once a week at the Washington Island’s Washington Hotel (more on this in another post). You get fat in Wisconsin because it is quite hard to resist eating either of these two sets of donuts. And you get fat in Wisconsin because after finish your donut you eat a breakfast of farm fresh eggs cooked in Wisconsin butter, and with your butter-eggs you get outstanding hash browns. Hash browns with the wonder of being equally greasy and crisp. Or, you try the special of the day, French toast with a Door County cherry sauce. If you want instead, to have Swedish pancakes with lingonberries on Washington Island, there is Lenny’s, which is also an arcade and pizza parlor. (Island commerce is a lot like that, the liquor store doubles as the appliance vendor.)
Not that bad these pancakes, but it was the only food we ate on Washington Island that we’d skip next time. The pancakes needed a few more minutes on the grill. It also bugged me that while maple trees are tapped in Door County, Lenny's served up some tiny packages of “maple flavored” crap. I did not expect anything on Washington Island like an air hockey emporium that dabbled in Swedish pancakes, let alone something as delicious as Findlay’s Holiday Inn, as posh as Washington Hotel, which nightly served a six course gourmet dinner featuring local products (expect a full report soon). I did not expect fresh lawyers and fresh whitefish and fresh perch served up within hours of their being caught.
My request for information on Washington Island produced nada. I expected three days of pleasant seclusion as the kidz swam in Lake Michigan. On the drive up we stocked, in fear of starving, at all the farm stands we passed. We'd survive on berries if nothing else. We detoured just north of the Milwaukee suburbs to Saukville, to an olde tyme butcher, Blaus, who sells a bunch of kinds of blood sausages and headcheeses, bison and brats. Also, as they note, will clean, dress, grind and otherwise deal with anything you catch (taxidermy included if you want). In the interest of honesty, I should point out that Blaus Saukville Meats sells mostly frozen stuff. And we never got around to cooking any of it because we enjoyed too much getting fat at Washington Island’s restaurants.
We did eat for breakfast and lunches, our smoked fishes we got from Charlie’s Smoke House, on Gill’s Rock, just about at land’s end. Go for the aroma. Go for the affordability. Go for all of it. Charlie’s smokes whitefish from local waters, chubs caught near Milwaukee, lake trout from Superior, farm raised Atlantic salmon and wild Pacific salmon. We got one of each. Needless to say, it was all good. We could contrast it to Bearcat’s, a smoke fish shop along the river in Algoma because the Fish Creek General Store, where we picked up lunch on the way home sold Bearcat’s fish. We sampled whitefish and whitefish-cream cheese spread. Bearcat’s whitefish was much saltier, intense, but not really in a bad way, the spread ideal. We hear Bearcat has some great pickled fish, and hopefully next time we pass Bearcat’s store, it will still be opened. Except for those cold meals, we were getting fat on restaurant food.
We tried the Swedish pancakes at Al Johnson’s in Sister Bay, no goats on the roof at 7 AM. Better cooked pancakes than those we had a day earlier on the Island, slightly less good lingonberries and still no local syrup. Lousy meatballs though, gummy and excessively salty after the cardamom taste wisps off. I’m convinced I’d get fat next time at the Sunset Resort on Washington Island that offers, for breakfast, Icelandic pancakes and something called barkram pankaka (which produced zero hits on Google).
If you take the obvious turn-off to 42 at Manitowoc (and most people seemed to skip this for highway all the way up towards Green Bay), you will quickly find yourself at the Penguin Drive-In (a real car-hoppin’ drive-in by the way), home of the ½ pound “Big Penny” burger. I skipped the burger for the local brat. Seems Manitowacans compete with Sheboygan over bratwursts the way certain towns in Southern France battle over cassoulet recipes. In Manitowoc, you eat the Cher-Made brat, a brat with a strong dose of nutmeg. Alas, as noted, I failed to make the direct comparison between brats made in Sheboygan and brats made in Manitowoc. At Penguin, I did get a taste of Ms. VI’s small penny burger. But people get fat in Wisconsin because with their brats and penny’s they eat a side of fried cheese curds (yes quite good). And frozen custard, we sampled two cups of Penguin’s custard, not the best I’ve had in Wisconsin, but is that like saying Veuve Clicot was not the best in Epernay.
A mistake. If one is in Manitowoc Wisconsin, valuable stomach space should be reserved for Beernsten’s. In a mildly thriving downtown Manitowoc, just north of the river, stands the ancient Beernsten’s candy shop. Even if the high ceiling is covered in acoustic tiles instead of tin, the place remains classic. The booths are walnut and the walls are paneled with the same. The lights seem to glow with museum quality yellow. We were too full to try any of the sundaes and sodas elaborately described in the “Sundae News”, but we did buy some candies. Did I mention that we skipped the ice cream at Beernsten’s because we custarded at Penguin? Well, we fudged at Cook’s Corner, world’s largest cookware store, so they say, located in downtown Manitowoc, and also home to some pretty good fudge.
You get fat in Wisconsin because there is some pretty good fudge. Of course no one is forcing you to eat fudge in Wisconsin. But it seems that people vacation in Wisconsin simply to have the excuse to eat fudge. And we were helpless to resist the call of thousands of candy shops along 42. In Fish Creek I thought I put my foot down. No more candy for us. Until we saw the charming Sister Sweets that stood in obvious contrast to the corporate Door County Confectionary (and I use corporate somewhat loosely). Just a look, no? A taste. More fudge, more caramels, some home made bars with chocolate and raisins and nuts, some almond toffee added to our collection.
To be continued, in which we learn that your fish don’t have to be fried to get you fat in Wisconsin.
Except for Annabel’s in Sheboygan (which you will have no need to try), everything mentioned above, not on the penisula, that is not on Washington Island, is on or right off of Highway 42 in Wisconsin. For the stuff on Washington Island, well, if you go there, you should easily be able to find anything mentioned. Oh, and Blaus is easy to find too. Get off of I-43 at the Port Washington/Saukville exit. Go west just a bit, and it will be there on your left.
Part One
We did not eat our last meal in Wisconsin as planned. Leaving the Door peninsula for the near perfect farmland (yes EVERY barn is red) and occasional industrial town that is Wisconsin 42, we passed a couple of good looking and seemingly crowded supper clubs, but I was supper clubbed out. We also passed the good looking and seemingly crowded Kewaunee Custard shop, but I was oddly enough, frozen custarded out—well, I had eaten frozen custard not that much earlier at Malibu Moo’s in Fish Creek. And while the Condiment Queen pined for a drive-in offering bison burgers right across the street from a bison farm, I asked for the favor of moving on to Sheboygan. I wanted a quick brat, a Sheboygan brat, at Sheboygan’s famed Charcoal Inn. I figured, how often does one pass through Sheboygan during dinner time, or even make it a point to drive through Sheboygan at any time (and having now driven through Sheboygan at dinner time, I can see why it is off the radar, a sadly deteriorated town). Yet, I will return one day to Sheboygan because the Charcoal Inn closes on Sunday. This forced us to the next closest eating place, Annabel’s Family Restaurant.
I did not think much of Annabel’s, but it provided me with the perfect dish, the dish that perhaps sums up eating in Wisconsin. I knew for a while that the theme of my Wisconsin report, the theme of four visits to Wisconsin this year: Getting Fat. Now, many people have seen me at various Chowhound/LTH events over the years, and they know that I am surely on the Hardy side of Laurel and. If I spent more time up there, I’d look even more like Ollie. Why? In Wisconsin if you go to Annabel’s Family Restaurant, a “local greek” with the standard big menu and ordered the local greek with the big menu standard, spinach-feta pie, you would get a pie, compact from being pressed and cooked on the griddle like a burgers. The griddle adds a bit of flavor, however, it would not be enough flavor to make it Wisconsin worthy. In Wisconsin, your flattish, spinach-feta pie comes with a golf ball sized knob of melting butter on top.
You get fat in Wisconsin because when you visit Findlay’s Holiday Inn on Washington Island for breakfast, they point you to a bar for fresh made donuts to relieve the morning pang (before ordering). Of course, you may be like me and have already snuck a donut from a small stash of buttermilk donuts sold once a week at the Washington Island’s Washington Hotel (more on this in another post). You get fat in Wisconsin because it is quite hard to resist eating either of these two sets of donuts. And you get fat in Wisconsin because after finish your donut you eat a breakfast of farm fresh eggs cooked in Wisconsin butter, and with your butter-eggs you get outstanding hash browns. Hash browns with the wonder of being equally greasy and crisp. Or, you try the special of the day, French toast with a Door County cherry sauce. If you want instead, to have Swedish pancakes with lingonberries on Washington Island, there is Lenny’s, which is also an arcade and pizza parlor. (Island commerce is a lot like that, the liquor store doubles as the appliance vendor.)
Not that bad these pancakes, but it was the only food we ate on Washington Island that we’d skip next time. The pancakes needed a few more minutes on the grill. It also bugged me that while maple trees are tapped in Door County, Lenny's served up some tiny packages of “maple flavored” crap. I did not expect anything on Washington Island like an air hockey emporium that dabbled in Swedish pancakes, let alone something as delicious as Findlay’s Holiday Inn, as posh as Washington Hotel, which nightly served a six course gourmet dinner featuring local products (expect a full report soon). I did not expect fresh lawyers and fresh whitefish and fresh perch served up within hours of their being caught.
My request for information on Washington Island produced nada. I expected three days of pleasant seclusion as the kidz swam in Lake Michigan. On the drive up we stocked, in fear of starving, at all the farm stands we passed. We'd survive on berries if nothing else. We detoured just north of the Milwaukee suburbs to Saukville, to an olde tyme butcher, Blaus, who sells a bunch of kinds of blood sausages and headcheeses, bison and brats. Also, as they note, will clean, dress, grind and otherwise deal with anything you catch (taxidermy included if you want). In the interest of honesty, I should point out that Blaus Saukville Meats sells mostly frozen stuff. And we never got around to cooking any of it because we enjoyed too much getting fat at Washington Island’s restaurants.
We did eat for breakfast and lunches, our smoked fishes we got from Charlie’s Smoke House, on Gill’s Rock, just about at land’s end. Go for the aroma. Go for the affordability. Go for all of it. Charlie’s smokes whitefish from local waters, chubs caught near Milwaukee, lake trout from Superior, farm raised Atlantic salmon and wild Pacific salmon. We got one of each. Needless to say, it was all good. We could contrast it to Bearcat’s, a smoke fish shop along the river in Algoma because the Fish Creek General Store, where we picked up lunch on the way home sold Bearcat’s fish. We sampled whitefish and whitefish-cream cheese spread. Bearcat’s whitefish was much saltier, intense, but not really in a bad way, the spread ideal. We hear Bearcat has some great pickled fish, and hopefully next time we pass Bearcat’s store, it will still be opened. Except for those cold meals, we were getting fat on restaurant food.
We tried the Swedish pancakes at Al Johnson’s in Sister Bay, no goats on the roof at 7 AM. Better cooked pancakes than those we had a day earlier on the Island, slightly less good lingonberries and still no local syrup. Lousy meatballs though, gummy and excessively salty after the cardamom taste wisps off. I’m convinced I’d get fat next time at the Sunset Resort on Washington Island that offers, for breakfast, Icelandic pancakes and something called barkram pankaka (which produced zero hits on Google).
If you take the obvious turn-off to 42 at Manitowoc (and most people seemed to skip this for highway all the way up towards Green Bay), you will quickly find yourself at the Penguin Drive-In (a real car-hoppin’ drive-in by the way), home of the ½ pound “Big Penny” burger. I skipped the burger for the local brat. Seems Manitowacans compete with Sheboygan over bratwursts the way certain towns in Southern France battle over cassoulet recipes. In Manitowoc, you eat the Cher-Made brat, a brat with a strong dose of nutmeg. Alas, as noted, I failed to make the direct comparison between brats made in Sheboygan and brats made in Manitowoc. At Penguin, I did get a taste of Ms. VI’s small penny burger. But people get fat in Wisconsin because with their brats and penny’s they eat a side of fried cheese curds (yes quite good). And frozen custard, we sampled two cups of Penguin’s custard, not the best I’ve had in Wisconsin, but is that like saying Veuve Clicot was not the best in Epernay.
A mistake. If one is in Manitowoc Wisconsin, valuable stomach space should be reserved for Beernsten’s. In a mildly thriving downtown Manitowoc, just north of the river, stands the ancient Beernsten’s candy shop. Even if the high ceiling is covered in acoustic tiles instead of tin, the place remains classic. The booths are walnut and the walls are paneled with the same. The lights seem to glow with museum quality yellow. We were too full to try any of the sundaes and sodas elaborately described in the “Sundae News”, but we did buy some candies. Did I mention that we skipped the ice cream at Beernsten’s because we custarded at Penguin? Well, we fudged at Cook’s Corner, world’s largest cookware store, so they say, located in downtown Manitowoc, and also home to some pretty good fudge.
You get fat in Wisconsin because there is some pretty good fudge. Of course no one is forcing you to eat fudge in Wisconsin. But it seems that people vacation in Wisconsin simply to have the excuse to eat fudge. And we were helpless to resist the call of thousands of candy shops along 42. In Fish Creek I thought I put my foot down. No more candy for us. Until we saw the charming Sister Sweets that stood in obvious contrast to the corporate Door County Confectionary (and I use corporate somewhat loosely). Just a look, no? A taste. More fudge, more caramels, some home made bars with chocolate and raisins and nuts, some almond toffee added to our collection.
To be continued, in which we learn that your fish don’t have to be fried to get you fat in Wisconsin.
Except for Annabel’s in Sheboygan (which you will have no need to try), everything mentioned above, not on the penisula, that is not on Washington Island, is on or right off of Highway 42 in Wisconsin. For the stuff on Washington Island, well, if you go there, you should easily be able to find anything mentioned. Oh, and Blaus is easy to find too. Get off of I-43 at the Port Washington/Saukville exit. Go west just a bit, and it will be there on your left.
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
7th Market - Hat Hammond reports
Oak Park Farmer's Market 7/16/05
As I noted last week, I was outta town for this week's market. Thus, I recruited David "Hat" Hammond to report. He submitted a nicely coded report for me to copy and paste into the blog, but I could not get one thing to work, his expandable images. As the pictures are a big part of the "fun" in his report, I decided to just link instead to his write-up on LTHForum.com
Hammond Pulls An All-Nighter
Oak Park Farmer's Market 7/16/05
As I noted last week, I was outta town for this week's market. Thus, I recruited David "Hat" Hammond to report. He submitted a nicely coded report for me to copy and paste into the blog, but I could not get one thing to work, his expandable images. As the pictures are a big part of the "fun" in his report, I decided to just link instead to his write-up on LTHForum.com
Hammond Pulls An All-Nighter
Shop Whole Foods Now!
I have (very) mixed feelings about Whole Foods. There are a few things I really like about the store, mainly the milk and bread. The value of Whole Foods is, that on any given day, I can get the outstanding milk produced by Amish farmers from Iowa called "Farmer's All Natural Creamery", and I can get a pretty decent loaf of bread (not the best but as they say, more than decent). What I almost always skip is, the produce.
While I want organic produce, I really deplore the way that Whole Foods does it. I know it is not accurate to call it faux organic as organic is organic, but the corporate and imported fruits and vegetables that make up Whole Food's inventory surely violates certain ideas behind "organic". For one thing Whole Food's produce does not support "regular" farmer's. For another thing, another thing, how good can all of this shipped in produce really be? It aint farm fresh. Yet, there is hope.
Yesterday at Whole Food's in River Forest, they were selling Illinois peaches. I know, I know, where exactly do we define local? Is something close to St. Louis local food for Chicago? Well, for me, yes. My boundaries for local basically follow the Big Ten Conference. Alas, I digress. Whole Foods was selling peaches from Eckert's Farms in Bellevue, Illinois. I grabbed a bunch just to help convince the Whole Food's powers that be that there was a market for this stuff.
But you know what really infuriated me? An employee was poo-pahing the peaches to another customer, essentially, as far as I could tell, because they were still mostly hard. He decided to offer samples to this customer, and then since I was there, to me too. Turns out he was quite wrong. I thought he should have been pitching the peaches just to get people to eat local. Seems he should be pitching these peaches because they are pretty good too. Shop now, who knows how long they will be there.
I have (very) mixed feelings about Whole Foods. There are a few things I really like about the store, mainly the milk and bread. The value of Whole Foods is, that on any given day, I can get the outstanding milk produced by Amish farmers from Iowa called "Farmer's All Natural Creamery", and I can get a pretty decent loaf of bread (not the best but as they say, more than decent). What I almost always skip is, the produce.
While I want organic produce, I really deplore the way that Whole Foods does it. I know it is not accurate to call it faux organic as organic is organic, but the corporate and imported fruits and vegetables that make up Whole Food's inventory surely violates certain ideas behind "organic". For one thing Whole Food's produce does not support "regular" farmer's. For another thing, another thing, how good can all of this shipped in produce really be? It aint farm fresh. Yet, there is hope.
Yesterday at Whole Food's in River Forest, they were selling Illinois peaches. I know, I know, where exactly do we define local? Is something close to St. Louis local food for Chicago? Well, for me, yes. My boundaries for local basically follow the Big Ten Conference. Alas, I digress. Whole Foods was selling peaches from Eckert's Farms in Bellevue, Illinois. I grabbed a bunch just to help convince the Whole Food's powers that be that there was a market for this stuff.
But you know what really infuriated me? An employee was poo-pahing the peaches to another customer, essentially, as far as I could tell, because they were still mostly hard. He decided to offer samples to this customer, and then since I was there, to me too. Turns out he was quite wrong. I thought he should have been pitching the peaches just to get people to eat local. Seems he should be pitching these peaches because they are pretty good too. Shop now, who knows how long they will be there.
Monday, July 11, 2005
6th Week, For P.A.D.S.
Oak Park Farmer's Market 7/9/05
We got cherries, deep red bing and pale red Queen Ann; tart and fresh and tart and slowly thawing IQF (individually quick frozen). We got berries, blue and goose and rasp and something pronounced liked moosh (a maroon variant on the goose with a Germanic name I soon forgot). We got summer sauce apples practically before the first peaches appeared, but there are a few of those too (although a bit hard to chew). Same with the apricot, all quite large but also not quite to their prime. We got massive beets and massive cucumbers because that's where Nicholl's Farm pointed their irrigation. And we got a lot of other things at the Oak Park Farmer's Market, but I was not really paying attention (?!?)
I have a great excuse. Donuts. On Saturday night we attended the gala LTHForum 1,000 member celebration, and after having been entertained by the Mayor's Mouth, sated by gobs of grilled meats and (two) slices of cake (well I had to try both), and lubricated with a few shots of soju (thanks Shirley!), we made a relatively early exit. I told SteveZ that my wife, the Condiment Queen, was exhausted from having rose at the crack of dawn to make donuts. Steve said, "that's so nice of her." I said, "not for me, for the entire village of Oak Park." She mixed batter, twirled the cutting-plopping machine, and gingerly flipped each donut with a giant set of chopsticks. Of course she also lifted each finished batch with a large metal screen and then squeegeed excessive oil back into the fryer. A day later she said she never wanted to eat a donut again. Not me. I was donut boy. Runner. Slave. I brought fresh donuts to the sellers, tossed out garbage, filled up coffee urns, stayed on top of the cream and sugar and otherwise personally made sure all the parts hummed. Finally, the chowhounditas, Hannah and Sophia, assisted in the sale of donuts and drinks.
We and a bunch of others did all of this for the benefit of West Suburban P.A.D.S., an organization that serves men, women and families who are homeless or are at risk of homelessness in west suburban Cook County. All donut profits this week went to P.A.D.S.
So, if I did not pay too close of attention to what was there this week, I had a reason.
Note, I will be out of town for next week's market. I will hopefully recruit a guest blogger to document the 7th market. Otherwise, see ya in two weeks.
Oak Park Farmer's Market 7/9/05
We got cherries, deep red bing and pale red Queen Ann; tart and fresh and tart and slowly thawing IQF (individually quick frozen). We got berries, blue and goose and rasp and something pronounced liked moosh (a maroon variant on the goose with a Germanic name I soon forgot). We got summer sauce apples practically before the first peaches appeared, but there are a few of those too (although a bit hard to chew). Same with the apricot, all quite large but also not quite to their prime. We got massive beets and massive cucumbers because that's where Nicholl's Farm pointed their irrigation. And we got a lot of other things at the Oak Park Farmer's Market, but I was not really paying attention (?!?)
I have a great excuse. Donuts. On Saturday night we attended the gala LTHForum 1,000 member celebration, and after having been entertained by the Mayor's Mouth, sated by gobs of grilled meats and (two) slices of cake (well I had to try both), and lubricated with a few shots of soju (thanks Shirley!), we made a relatively early exit. I told SteveZ that my wife, the Condiment Queen, was exhausted from having rose at the crack of dawn to make donuts. Steve said, "that's so nice of her." I said, "not for me, for the entire village of Oak Park." She mixed batter, twirled the cutting-plopping machine, and gingerly flipped each donut with a giant set of chopsticks. Of course she also lifted each finished batch with a large metal screen and then squeegeed excessive oil back into the fryer. A day later she said she never wanted to eat a donut again. Not me. I was donut boy. Runner. Slave. I brought fresh donuts to the sellers, tossed out garbage, filled up coffee urns, stayed on top of the cream and sugar and otherwise personally made sure all the parts hummed. Finally, the chowhounditas, Hannah and Sophia, assisted in the sale of donuts and drinks.
We and a bunch of others did all of this for the benefit of West Suburban P.A.D.S., an organization that serves men, women and families who are homeless or are at risk of homelessness in west suburban Cook County. All donut profits this week went to P.A.D.S.
So, if I did not pay too close of attention to what was there this week, I had a reason.
Note, I will be out of town for next week's market. I will hopefully recruit a guest blogger to document the 7th market. Otherwise, see ya in two weeks.
Monday, July 04, 2005
Oak Park Farmer's Market 5th Try
7/2/05
It was a very good day to be in Oak Park. At 8:30 or so, the market teemed with people, circling the stands, gathered around the musicians, sitting at the metal tables. Across the street the little league played their all star game, and with banners hanging and a roaring crowd, the whole area felt alive. The early season heat dissipated but left behind a reward of fruit and vegetables.
Blink, and the market will look very different. Although one vendor carried big water-logged left over strawberries, those things were of the past, as was asparagus. Replacing the early season crops were tons of cherries including dark bing and paler Queen Ann (with no shortages of sour cherries in this market) plus blueberries, black raspberries, red raspberries, tayberries, and quite surprisingly, white peaches. On the vegetable front, Nicholl's Farms had the first, fresh dug, new, new potatoes. I got a basket. (Although when I got home I realized I had only enough 'taters to accent some dish.) Nicholl's was also showcasing their variety with three colors of cauliflower. Around the market, there was bundles of zucchini, baskets of fava's, bunches of beets. Green beans piled high. Even jalepeno peppers to buy. Blink and it's summer in Oak Park.
See ya next week.
7/2/05
It was a very good day to be in Oak Park. At 8:30 or so, the market teemed with people, circling the stands, gathered around the musicians, sitting at the metal tables. Across the street the little league played their all star game, and with banners hanging and a roaring crowd, the whole area felt alive. The early season heat dissipated but left behind a reward of fruit and vegetables.
Blink, and the market will look very different. Although one vendor carried big water-logged left over strawberries, those things were of the past, as was asparagus. Replacing the early season crops were tons of cherries including dark bing and paler Queen Ann (with no shortages of sour cherries in this market) plus blueberries, black raspberries, red raspberries, tayberries, and quite surprisingly, white peaches. On the vegetable front, Nicholl's Farms had the first, fresh dug, new, new potatoes. I got a basket. (Although when I got home I realized I had only enough 'taters to accent some dish.) Nicholl's was also showcasing their variety with three colors of cauliflower. Around the market, there was bundles of zucchini, baskets of fava's, bunches of beets. Green beans piled high. Even jalepeno peppers to buy. Blink and it's summer in Oak Park.
See ya next week.
Thursday, June 30, 2005
4th Market
Oak Park Farmer's Market 6/25/05
Once again I am woefully late with my market report. And I had all sorts of things to say. Funny how a week's worth of cleaning in anticipation of the in-laws visiting takes the spark outta blogging. But now that the bungalow is absolutely sparkling, I can at last chronicle (very quickly) the news of the market.
Good News
The first berries. Skibbes Farm had tayberries, looking like mutant raspberries and tasting a bit like what bug juice was made from (but better!) and Berry's Berries from Michigan had the first blueberries I've seen. Also, lotsa cherries, including sour cherries. In fact the aforementioned Skibbes Farm was marketing cherries as sour and tart. When I asked, they said, "well some are sour, some are really sour." Nicholl's Farm winning strawberry of the week was Ovation, but the best berries came from Farmer Vicki's Genesis Farms. There was the last of the asparagus and the last of the spinach but the first of the fresh favas. It's funny, favas are considered the archetypical spring veg, but they do not show up fresh (as in local) until late June. The very hot weather was rushing to market stuff like zuchini and cabbage. On the cutesy front, Nicholl's Farm stocked carrots in five colors and varieties including fat Tom Thumb. We bargained and got one bunch of each for $6 total. They also had oh so gourmet baby zuchini with flowers attached. Still at 3 babies for $3, I passed on those.
Bad News
The donuts were pretty crappy this week, not the least bit of crust.
Best News
Well, who should just make my day? Totally un-expected, I found my favorite farm family at the market. The Wettsteins now appear once a month in Oak Park, carting coolers of organic pork, chicken, beef, lamb and eggs. We got the eggs and some chicken livers. We wanted a whole chicken, but they were sold out. Instead we got a bag of chicken backs and necks for stock making.
See ya in a few days.
Oak Park Farmer's Market 6/25/05
Once again I am woefully late with my market report. And I had all sorts of things to say. Funny how a week's worth of cleaning in anticipation of the in-laws visiting takes the spark outta blogging. But now that the bungalow is absolutely sparkling, I can at last chronicle (very quickly) the news of the market.
Good News
The first berries. Skibbes Farm had tayberries, looking like mutant raspberries and tasting a bit like what bug juice was made from (but better!) and Berry's Berries from Michigan had the first blueberries I've seen. Also, lotsa cherries, including sour cherries. In fact the aforementioned Skibbes Farm was marketing cherries as sour and tart. When I asked, they said, "well some are sour, some are really sour." Nicholl's Farm winning strawberry of the week was Ovation, but the best berries came from Farmer Vicki's Genesis Farms. There was the last of the asparagus and the last of the spinach but the first of the fresh favas. It's funny, favas are considered the archetypical spring veg, but they do not show up fresh (as in local) until late June. The very hot weather was rushing to market stuff like zuchini and cabbage. On the cutesy front, Nicholl's Farm stocked carrots in five colors and varieties including fat Tom Thumb. We bargained and got one bunch of each for $6 total. They also had oh so gourmet baby zuchini with flowers attached. Still at 3 babies for $3, I passed on those.
Bad News
The donuts were pretty crappy this week, not the least bit of crust.
Best News
Well, who should just make my day? Totally un-expected, I found my favorite farm family at the market. The Wettsteins now appear once a month in Oak Park, carting coolers of organic pork, chicken, beef, lamb and eggs. We got the eggs and some chicken livers. We wanted a whole chicken, but they were sold out. Instead we got a bag of chicken backs and necks for stock making.
See ya in a few days.
Thursday, June 23, 2005
If you found yourself in Valparaiso on Tuesday...
...You would know this county seat of Porter, Indiana offers not one but two places that offer Serrano ham. In fact one could get a full blown Spanish meal at Don Quiote, whose owner, I learned has inhabited Valparaiso for 20 years but has also opened a shop importing Spanish goods. Valparaiso is also a town where one could get a bottle of Montalcino de Brunelo at the corner drug store, cupcakes with towering spirals of real buttercream, and visit more than a few espresso parlors. It was tropical night at Old Style Inn, with all that implies, but it should be noted that if one wanted to skip the pu-pu platters, there was genuine Northern Indiana fare there like buttered perch and pan fried blue gills. Still, if one wanted to really taste the taste of Valparaiso, one would skip all of the above and head a mile or so east of town to the Strongbow Inn.
Strongbow Inn was at one time, really an inn or at least a motel with a restaurant or at least a turkey farm with a motel and a restaurant. One inspired the other which inspired the other. Still, over time, the restaurant has won the attention of the third generation of family owners.
Say chicken at the Strongbow Inn and they cringe the way witches and wizards cringe at the expression of Lord Voldemort. If you organize your existence around turkey, you stomach no mention of her squatter cousin. And if you organize your existence around turkey, you sell not just year round turkey dinners, you sell turkey soup, turkey pate, turkey pies, turkey wings and turkey legs. You get cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes and bread dressing and gravy because these things go with turkey. You can, of course, jump ranks, and have chautebriand for two. I have never known nor seen anyone visit the right side of the menu, the evil non-turkey side.
I cannot vouch for the turkey pate. I can say everything else is satisfying in exactly the way it should. As a food writer might say, it is a true expression of its locale. I can also nip around the edges. The gravy is mostly just there, a moistener but not at all interesting or robust. The noodles for the soup are so clearly and visually homemade, and they have that toothsomeness that I love in homemade noodles, but they are also a bit mushy. The crust for the turkey pie lacks the structure or crispness of crusts made with butter or lard, but that does not mean it lacks for flavor. The potatoes are real as that implies but a bit on the bland side too. The house rolls are yeasty and soft, not at all like white bread. Luckily they require no lubrication because I'm not a lover of the margarine served along side. I must confess that my favorite thing at Strongbow is actually their salad dressing. The house dressing, a mysteriously simple garlic vinaigrette with crumbled blue cheese, is gosh darn nearly the best salad dressing I know. Lest you think I am overly critical, I will tell you that I'd be happy to return to Strongbow Inn next time I'm in Valparaiso on a Tuesday.
Strongbow Inn
2405 E. US 30
Valparaiso, IN 46383
...You would know this county seat of Porter, Indiana offers not one but two places that offer Serrano ham. In fact one could get a full blown Spanish meal at Don Quiote, whose owner, I learned has inhabited Valparaiso for 20 years but has also opened a shop importing Spanish goods. Valparaiso is also a town where one could get a bottle of Montalcino de Brunelo at the corner drug store, cupcakes with towering spirals of real buttercream, and visit more than a few espresso parlors. It was tropical night at Old Style Inn, with all that implies, but it should be noted that if one wanted to skip the pu-pu platters, there was genuine Northern Indiana fare there like buttered perch and pan fried blue gills. Still, if one wanted to really taste the taste of Valparaiso, one would skip all of the above and head a mile or so east of town to the Strongbow Inn.
Strongbow Inn was at one time, really an inn or at least a motel with a restaurant or at least a turkey farm with a motel and a restaurant. One inspired the other which inspired the other. Still, over time, the restaurant has won the attention of the third generation of family owners.
Say chicken at the Strongbow Inn and they cringe the way witches and wizards cringe at the expression of Lord Voldemort. If you organize your existence around turkey, you stomach no mention of her squatter cousin. And if you organize your existence around turkey, you sell not just year round turkey dinners, you sell turkey soup, turkey pate, turkey pies, turkey wings and turkey legs. You get cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes and bread dressing and gravy because these things go with turkey. You can, of course, jump ranks, and have chautebriand for two. I have never known nor seen anyone visit the right side of the menu, the evil non-turkey side.
I cannot vouch for the turkey pate. I can say everything else is satisfying in exactly the way it should. As a food writer might say, it is a true expression of its locale. I can also nip around the edges. The gravy is mostly just there, a moistener but not at all interesting or robust. The noodles for the soup are so clearly and visually homemade, and they have that toothsomeness that I love in homemade noodles, but they are also a bit mushy. The crust for the turkey pie lacks the structure or crispness of crusts made with butter or lard, but that does not mean it lacks for flavor. The potatoes are real as that implies but a bit on the bland side too. The house rolls are yeasty and soft, not at all like white bread. Luckily they require no lubrication because I'm not a lover of the margarine served along side. I must confess that my favorite thing at Strongbow is actually their salad dressing. The house dressing, a mysteriously simple garlic vinaigrette with crumbled blue cheese, is gosh darn nearly the best salad dressing I know. Lest you think I am overly critical, I will tell you that I'd be happy to return to Strongbow Inn next time I'm in Valparaiso on a Tuesday.
Strongbow Inn
2405 E. US 30
Valparaiso, IN 46383
Third Market
Oak Park Farmer's Market June 8, 2005
Thursday, Thursday, there was a time when I tried to report on the market as soon as I got home. Let me just say that certain members of my family did not appreciate a detour in the middle of an otherwise busy weekend, so I am left to blog the market when I get around to it. Luckily, I have the steeltrap memories of the Chowhounditas to remember what we bought.
Strawberries. This was another week of strawberries. Nicholl's Farms gave out tastes of about six varieties of strawberries. We liked the intensity of Noreastener, but as we were taking samples from the last available pint, we did not want a short stack. We settled on two: Idea and Sparkle. Idea had a distinct and strong undertone of funk, what sophisticates call plummy, what realists call barnyard and what those without subtly say, tastes a bit like sh*t. But of course, all in a good way. Complex. Special. The guy at Nicholl's said they were considered the closest to the wild strawberries of France. Sparkle were much opposite. Super-sweet like bubble gum but with enough nuance that they did not seem cloying.
While strawberries dominated the market, the first sweet cherries appeared at a couple of vendors. Fresh local cherries sing the way cherries trucked in from long distances cannot, but the first of the year are less than juicy, harbingers for what will come. Otherwise, pretty much more of the same, a lot of lettuces and related greens, snow peas, sugar snaps, shelling peas, rhubarb, spring onions. I should report that Nicholl's Farms had a few small containers of fresh red currents, perhaps to show they can then because there is a real market for fresh currents. The first crops of fresh flowers gave the market a much fuller look.
The bad news of the market: I spoke too soon on the faux vendors. Buried in the plant shop at the Southeast corner of the market is the dreaded supermarket produce. I guess it makes people feel good about buying consumer level stuff at a farmer's market, but these buyers are really not supporting the Farmer's Market. The good news: The donuts were better than last week, a real nice crisp crust against a light and fresh inside. I do note that we got to the market much later this week, after 9 AM, and the donut line was huge. I wonder, however, if the donuts get better as the day progresses. Maybe the oil gets seasoned?
See you next week.
Oak Park Farmer's Market June 8, 2005
Thursday, Thursday, there was a time when I tried to report on the market as soon as I got home. Let me just say that certain members of my family did not appreciate a detour in the middle of an otherwise busy weekend, so I am left to blog the market when I get around to it. Luckily, I have the steeltrap memories of the Chowhounditas to remember what we bought.
Strawberries. This was another week of strawberries. Nicholl's Farms gave out tastes of about six varieties of strawberries. We liked the intensity of Noreastener, but as we were taking samples from the last available pint, we did not want a short stack. We settled on two: Idea and Sparkle. Idea had a distinct and strong undertone of funk, what sophisticates call plummy, what realists call barnyard and what those without subtly say, tastes a bit like sh*t. But of course, all in a good way. Complex. Special. The guy at Nicholl's said they were considered the closest to the wild strawberries of France. Sparkle were much opposite. Super-sweet like bubble gum but with enough nuance that they did not seem cloying.
While strawberries dominated the market, the first sweet cherries appeared at a couple of vendors. Fresh local cherries sing the way cherries trucked in from long distances cannot, but the first of the year are less than juicy, harbingers for what will come. Otherwise, pretty much more of the same, a lot of lettuces and related greens, snow peas, sugar snaps, shelling peas, rhubarb, spring onions. I should report that Nicholl's Farms had a few small containers of fresh red currents, perhaps to show they can then because there is a real market for fresh currents. The first crops of fresh flowers gave the market a much fuller look.
The bad news of the market: I spoke too soon on the faux vendors. Buried in the plant shop at the Southeast corner of the market is the dreaded supermarket produce. I guess it makes people feel good about buying consumer level stuff at a farmer's market, but these buyers are really not supporting the Farmer's Market. The good news: The donuts were better than last week, a real nice crisp crust against a light and fresh inside. I do note that we got to the market much later this week, after 9 AM, and the donut line was huge. I wonder, however, if the donuts get better as the day progresses. Maybe the oil gets seasoned?
See you next week.
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