The Hungry Engineer

Pretty Dead Bread

April — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 16:19:00 GMT

Dia de los Muertos has to be one of the more interesting holidays out there. Since it's celebrated on November 1^st and 2^nd, I have to wonder why it's not Dias de los Muertos, but who am I to quibble. The holiday is celebrated in Mexico as a way to honor family members and friends who've passed away. Custom holds that the dead are easier to communicate with at the this time, and to entice them to do so, offerings are made of favorite foods and drinks. Often, these offerings include Pan de Muertos.

Pan de Muertos is a sweetened yeast bread. Typically it is formed into a round boule shape, often decorated with dough shaped into a skull and bones.

Recipes vary widely, but the one I chose to make is from Diana Kennedy, in her book From My Mexican Kitchen: Techniques and Ingredients. Ms. Kennedy has been cooking Mexican food and writing cookbooks for a very long time, and it shows. She covers traditional Mexican ingredients, cookware, and techniques thoroughly. Her recipes are very detailed and beautifully photographed. She's not pulling any punches – they will often take time, but in the end, you'll be happy with the results.

Kennedy's Pan de Muertos recipe, for instance, covers four pages and many of the dough shaping steps are displayed, which is helpful. It took two days to complete it (she recommends letting the dough rest overnight), but in the end, the results were picture-perfect. A couple months ago or so, I bought a KitchenAid mixer finally (mostly so I could use the grinder attachment for sausage), and I will say, it was absolutely the best tool for the job of mixing the starter and the dough. They're very sticky, and I firmly believe that mixing them by hand would have driven me to madness, at least for a little while.

The egg-enriched dough was soft and just a little bit sweet and accented by the tiniest hint of citrus from a splash of orange oil added toward the end of the dough constructing process (Kennedy recommends orange flower water or orange zest, but the orange oil worked very nicely for me). The bread's sugary coating rested against a dark, almost bitter crust, and has been serving as the perfect complement to my morning cup of coffee (and my afternoon cup of tea) for a couple days now.

On this most recent November 2^nd, I chose to remember my dead relatives while keeping very busy in the kitchen, filling the house with the wonderful smells of baking bread.

PAN DE MUERTOS

adapted from From My Mexican Kitchen, by Diana Kennedy

Starter:

8 ounces all-purpose flour

rounded ½ teaspoon kosher salt

1 ounce sugar

½ tablespoon active dry yeast

6 tablespoons warm water

1 large egg, lightly beaten

Dough:

4 ounces sugar

3 ½ ounces butter, softened

8 ounces all-purpose flour

4 egg yolks lightly beaten with a tablespoon of water

2 tablespoons water

½ teaspoon orange oil

Glaze:

2 egg yolks, beaten

2 tablespoons butter, melted

2-3 tablespoons sugar

Starter:

Dissolve the yeast in the warm water and set aside. Add the flour, salt, and sugar to the bowl of a stand mixer. With the mixer running, add first your yeast mixture and then your beaten egg. Continue mixing until the dough starts to climb up the dough hook – around five minutes. The dough will still be sticky, but will have a smooth, elastic feel.

Set aside in a greased bowl covered with plastic wrap until the dough has doubled in volume – 1 ½ to 2 hours.

Dough:

Once the starter has finished rising, tear it into pieces and add it to the stand mixer. Add the sugar and the softened butter and mix till thoroughly combined.

Mix in the flour and beaten yolks in alternating additions. Add in the water and the orange oil and again mix till thoroughly combined. The dough should be sticky but smooth and able to just hold its shape.

At this point, either let the dough rise again as before, or place it in the refrigerator overnight to allow the flavors time to develop.

Once the dough has risen a second time, or the refrigerated dough has come to room temperature and finished its rise, it's time to shape the dough. First grease a baking sheet and set it aside. Cut out ¼ of the dough and set it aside – this will become the bones and skull. Shape the remaining ¾ of dough into a smooth ball, then flatten it out on the baking sheet into a roughly 8-inch circle. Use the edge of your hand to press a rim around the outside edge of the dough, as Ms. Kennedy says, “like the brim of a hat.”

Quarter the reserved piece of dough. Roll one of the quarters into a smooth ball and move to the baking sheet. The remaining three pieces will be the bones. Roll each of these pieces into an 8-inch length, taking care to form a bone knob into each half of the length as shown below. As each piece is formed, move it to the greased baking sheet.

Once finished, cover the dough pieces on the baking sheet with greased wax paper and set aside for an hour or two to allow a good rise.

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees (F). Place the three bones across the main loaf at regular intervals, overlapping their centers. Insert the round ball into the dent in the middle of the bones and poke out eye-hole dents with the tip of your finger. (As you can see from the photo, I thought it would make sense to make a mouth dent also. This appears to have been a mistake as mine is more reminiscent of a happy-face than a skull.)

Brush the loaf with the beaten egg yolks of the glaze and bake for 15 to 30 minutes. The yolks to have turned a very dark brown and the loaf should spring back when pressed. Remove from the oven to a cooling rack. Brush with melted butter and sprinkle with sugar. Allow to cool completely before cutting into the loaf – 1 to 2 hours.

Good Eats - The Early Years

April — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 13:25:00 GMT

As promised, here's my almost-certainly-not-objective review of Alton Brown's latest book, Good Eats: The Early Years. But first, indulge my food-nerd glee (or maybe more nerd-who-cooks than food-nerd) and check this out.

This is always the face I wear when I'm getting ready to ask the tough questions.

Yeah, it's me and Alton Brown. That's Alton FRICKIN Brown if you're me being exuberant. I've never been a squealer and all the Internet “squees” and “w00ts” sort of tweak at my nerves. But just you try to get me to hold still when I'm excited about something – something like meeting my culinary hero. My normal level of fidgeting kicked into overdrive.

Don't get me wrong.This was meant to be a media meet and greet, and I had a handful of questions all prepared. When we got there though, we found out that there would be no real questioning going on, and I took that as my cue to devolve into the deplorable fan-girl that I am. Thankfully, I managed to not say or do anything too silly in his immediate vicinity. Addie Broyles, food writer for the Austin American Statesman did manage to ask a few questions (some of which were also on my list). Here's her take on AB and his social media aversion.

Yep - clearly hard-hitting journalism was the order of the day.

The Friendly Kitchen, Apron Adventures, Austin Farm to Table, Eating in a Box, Fun With Your Food, Miso Hungry Makes it with Moonshine, Relish Austin, and The Hungry Engineer all cuddling our review copies.

I went home with my free review copy of Good Eats: The Early Years and have been lovingly flipping through it ever since. Honestly, I placed this book on such a high pedestal, I was setting myself up for disappointment. Fortunately, AB came through with a fine book that I'm perfectly happy to gush about till you're sick of hearing about it.

The book is meant to essentially capture the first eighty episodes of Good Eats in printed form. It offers behind the scenes commentary and photos, cute-yet-informative illustrations, and of course ample nuggets of information detailing the chemistry, physics, history, you-name-it of the food items under discussion in a given episode. Plus, if you have any experience with Mr. Brown's other cookbooks, the elegant organization and interesting formatting in this one will be familiar to you.

I expect this book will be most appealing to folks who've seen and remember these early episodes, however, it is loaded with recipes as well, many of which have been updated by ten-years-wiser AB. With his clear descriptions and well-laid-out recipes, this would make a very good text for someone who wants to learn to cook in the most entertaining way possible.

My one very tiny complaint is that not all the recipes are presented from each episode. This is probably not a big deal, because the last time I checked, all the recipes were available at the Food Network's site.

In addition to the scads of episode-related information, there's also a cute bit at the beginning featuring Alton interviewing himself about Good Eats (or as he might have had it: Alton Brown's Flying Food Circus). And in the back there are excellent weight, volume, and temperature conversion charts. Plus, did I mention that the book jacket folds out into a fancy Good Eats poster?

Good Eats: The Early Years is meant to be the first in a series of three, and after seeing the quality of this first book, I personally can't wait to see what the next two bring. As someone who has given up on cable (and thus, the Food Network), I'm extremely pleased to have this text that so beautifully captures a cooking show that I truly miss watching (one of very, very few).

My only hurdle now to full on Good Eats enjoyment is deciding whether or not I'll allow my lovely signed copy to get as messy as all the other cookbooks in the kitchen.

In the Kitchen No Longer

April — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 14:26:00 GMT

My husband's family remembers Zoe's Kitchen as a local restaurant in their home city of Birmingham, AL. Zoe was often in the kitchen, and the chocolate cake was moist and topped with fudgy icing. Well. Zoe's Kitchen is all grown up and several locations now dot the southern United States (though as I understand it, Zoe is still heavily involved). And now, Zoe's Kitchen has a location in Austin.

We were invited to sample Zoe's culinary offerings at a recent media event. The perky (but not annoyingly so) color scheme and outdoor seating blend in with Austin's casual-hip style, and the big windows and high ceilings add a feeling of openness to the restaurant.

This is a fast-casual kind of a place, and the quality of the food, in my opinion, is at the upper end of the spectrum for those sorts of establishments. The variety of menu items is good and the “Mediterranean-inspired” food is interesting. Here were some of our favorites.

The Steak Roll-ups were wonderful. Tender, thinly-sliced tri-tip wrapped in a tortilla was served with a creamy dipping sauce.

The Shrimp Kabobs (which we tried on our own, not during the event) were nicely cooked – they managed to get a nice char on the them without turning the shrimp into rubber.

The White Beans were creamy and rich tasting and would make an outstanding side dish for any of the entrees.

The Hummus was light-textured and lemony – perfect for shoveling into your mouth with toasty pitas.

The Pita Pizza was surprisingly good. The pita crisped up beautifully and provided a solid platform for delivering tender chicken and tangy feta.

Finally Yaya's Hand Made Chocolate Cake. Sean's mom insists that the cake was better before Zoe's became a chain. The icing was baked in such a way that it was almost like eating a layer of fudge on top of a layer of cake. I don't know how it used to taste when Zoe was in the kitchen, but it's pretty darn good now. I'm not a big icing person, so most of my enjoyment comes from the incredibly moist, not terribly sweet slab of chocolate cake hiding underneath. Sean, on the other hand, insists that the thick, chocolatey icing is critical to cake enjoyment. Either way, it's delicious.

Zoe's Kitchen is tucked away in the Arboretum area of North Austin in what strikes me as a relatively discreet location. I'm hoping like crazy that they don't suffer for this, because I really have enjoyed the food I've gotten from there. To encourage more of you to visit, I have a couple pairs of coupons to give away if anyone would like to give Zoe's a try. First come-first served. If you'd like the coupons, email me at aprilATthehungryengineerDOTcom with your name and mailing address and I'll send them to you. (The coupons are only good at the Arboretum store, so please don't email if you live too far away to make use of them.)

UPDATE: The coupons have now been spoken for. That was faster than I expected!

I'm Just Here for AB

April — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 02:55:00 GMT

You remember when the Food Network was just plain old Food TV and you could learn how to cook by watching it? One of my absolute favorite cooking shows to watch was Good Eats and its crazy host Alton Brown. With AB's help, I developed a hatred for uni-taskers (except for the fire extinguisher, of course), learned how to make chocolate syrup, and above all had gobs of fun.

Well, this Sunday, October 18th, from 1 to 4 PM, Alton Brown will be at the flagship Whole Foods signing copies of his most recent book, Good Eats, The Early Years. Fair warning though: to get your books signed, they must be purchased from Book People (more details here).

It would be fair to say that Alton is one of my culinary heroes. He is nerdy, funny, and informative. Good Eats has been on the air for over ten years now and is still going strong. Good Eats, The Early Years is a compilation of the first 80 episodes of Good Eats in book form. It's meant to be the first of a set, with two more books planned.

From a recent press release: “Good Eats: The Early Years is the book that Alton fans have been waiting for—a hugely entertaining collection of recipes, stories, and photographs that provides an in depth look at the first years of his long-running show. From “Pork Fiction” (on baby back ribs), to “Citizen Cane” (on caramel sauce), to “Oat Cuisine” (on oatmeal), each hilarious episode has its own chapter, showcasing remastered recipes, behind-the-scenes photos and lore, illustrations, and plenty of useful facts.”

According to a recent NPR interview, Alton gets to bring his ten years experience writing and hosting Good Eats to bear on those first episodes and “at least make a few small repairs.” It will be interesting to see what those fledgling episodes look like on paper.

My intention is to follow this up with a full-blown review of his new book as soon as I'm able. Just to warn you though, as a hopeless fan-girl, I may not be very objective about it.

Wine in a Box

April — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 04:55:09 GMT

You remember how in college it was a funny joke to buy the box of wine from Wal-Mart and stick it in your fridge? And it was extra hilarious that it was dispensed via a spigot in its side? Well, now the joke's on us. As it happens, our first experience with a more recent boxed wine offering was actually pretty positive.

As part of Foodbuzz's Taste Maker program, I opted in to receive a free sample from Black Box Wines. They generously sent us a box of the 2008 New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc. It's fantastically easy to set up – pop out a finger hold, pull up a tab, slide the little spigot into place, and replace the tab. And ta-da – wine that I can dispense from my refrigerator literally at the push of a button. This could be dangerous.

Our first tastes of the wine were very promising. The aroma was clean and crisp, the flavor smooth and lingering. But here's the thing. I'm not a wine connoisseur. I think Sean would be comfortable with me saying that he really isn't either. We enjoy drinking wine, but we lack the background to be very ... expressive about it. To that end, we thought it would be fun to make a learning experience of this. We spent some time comparing the Black Box wine against others of the same varietal to get a feel for the differences in flavor, aroma, and general quality between them.

The first bottle we tried was the Stoneleigh Sauvignon Blanc (2008). At $16.99, this was our most expensive bottle. We chose this one because it was also from New Zealand and thought it would give us the best comparison with the Black Box wine. It was decidedly crisp and clean and the aroma that hit you hardest was that of grapefruit. This was easily my favorite bottle.

The next wine was the Girard Sauvignon Blanc (2008), from the Napa Valley. Its price point was a more reasonable $10.99. This one had more the aroma of pears (to my nose, at least), and its flavor was much closer to that of the Black Box wine. For my part, I couldn't have chosen a favorite between the Girard and the Black Box. Sean preferred the Girard, but he was forced to taste each wine several times before making that declaration.

We probably had too many variables for this to be a truly scientific study. The Stoneleigh had a screw cap, the Girard had a cork, and the Black Box, naturally, was boxed. The Stoneleigh and Black Box were made with New Zealand grapes, the Girard with Napa Valley. But it was an interesting exercise in flavor and aroma comparison, which is what we were going for.

For my part, I'm sold. The Black Box wine has a suggested retail price of $24.99, though we've generally seen it sold around here in Austin for less than $20. As the box holds the equivalent of four bottles of wine, the cost per “bottle” (between $5 and $6.25) is considerably less than the other two we tried. And while the Stoneleigh was the clear favorite, it wasn't so much better than the Black Box wine that I could justify paying three times the price for a bottle. Also, because the dispensing method keeps air away from the wine, the Black Box company states that their wines stay fresh for four weeks after opening. At the end of the day, we enjoyed this wine and would happily buy it again.

La Dolce Vita

April — Tue, 06 Oct 2009 02:34:45 GMT

An outdoor festival in October when Austin's temperatures are at their finest – sounds good. A festival at which dozens of the area's food and wine purveyors provide a wide range of samples – a food-lover's dream. A festival that costs $100 a pop to attend – wait, what? But given the breadth and quality of culinary establishments present, it may well be worth it to attend La Dolce Vita, the Austin Museum of Art's annual food and wine festival.

Recently, Sean and I were invited to a La Dolce Vita pre-event, and as I had never heard of the event before, we decided to find out what it was all about. Well, don't I have egg on my face – this is the 20th year for the AMOA to put on their Food and Wine festival. This is their annual fund raising event; proceeds directly benefit the museum's exhibition and education programs. On October 15th, they're going big. For their 20th anniversary, they're attempting to recreate Federico Fellini's masterpiece, La Dolce Vita.

The preview event was held last week at the huge Twin Liquors location in the Hancock Center and was catered by Primizie Osteria and Austin Cake Ball. The nibbles supplied were all quite delicious. I was particularly smitten with the latter's red velvet cake balls. We were also able to sample some of the wines that would be offered at the event, and they were all pleasantly drinkable.

So, is the hundred dollar price tag worth it? I think the answer is probably yes, especially if you're a food-lover. Check out the list of restaurants (scroll down) that will be present at the event – it'd be tough to sample even a handful of those with only $100. And from what we're told, many of those restaurants come back again and again and have their preparations down pat. For the price of admission, you can go 'round and sample from as many places as you like, and the food tables are interspersed with wine tables as well. For an extra fee, you can also sample scotches and cigars and ports and chocolate, and for the truly affluent among us, they'll be auctioning off some lovely hand-painted wine glasses as well.

Will Sean and I be going? As much as I might like to, we'll almost certainly have to miss it. A certain family member of ours is about to have a baby and odds are good that we'll not be in the vicinity on festival day. For those who can make it, we've been warned to purchase tickets early as the event sells out quickly and show up as early as possible to enable maximum sampling from the many participating restaurants.

Snakes and Snails and Fancy Cocktails

April — Fri, 02 Oct 2009 16:32:13 GMT

Several weeks ago, Austin saw its first Cupcake Smackdown. This past week, the Austin Convention and Visitors Bureau held the 6th Annual Cocktail Throwdown. First, bars were invited to submit their version of the “official drink of Austin” (made with Austin's own Titos Handmade Vodka). Then these were pared down to just the top five. And finally, on September 24th, we got to try out those top runners and vote for the one we felt best represented our fair city.

The drinks were as different as the fine citizenry of Austin. Here they are in the order we were able to sample them (so you can factor in how much our alcohol-clouded judgment informed our decisions).

First up, Mole on the Rocks by Bill Norris of Fino. This drink was a mixture of (among other things) Treaty Oak rum, Paula's Texas Orange, chocolate bitters, and Norris' house-made mole syrup. The flavor was interesting and the aroma incredible. The drink was topped with freshly grated nutmeg and that upped the aroma ante considerably. All told, this drink was way too sweet for me, though Sean liked it very much and would likely order it again.

The next one we got to try was the LadyBird by Nicholas Patrizi and Danelle Awtrey of Stephen F's Bar and Terrace. This one was a mixture of St. Germain Elderflower Liqueur, Paula's Texas Lemon, and some sort of pear liquor. We were told that we'd experience an initial hit of citrus followed by the subtler flavors of pear and elderflower. I'll admit that I probably don't have the most refined palate out there, but I never got anything beyond the citrus. It was bright and refreshing and the model drink with its little carved “Texas rose” was very pretty, but I would've liked to experience those other flavors as well.

Next up was my personal favorite – the Redbud by Tori Trinson of Paggi House. This drink was made of an assertive combination of pepper, grenadine, orange, lime, and grapefruit bitters. This was a beautiful example of the sweet-heat flavorings I love so much. This drink had bite on the front and citrus on the back and I loved it. Sean, on the other hand, was not a fan.

Seans favorite and my **almost** favorite was the Enlightened Austin Martini by Elaine Garza and Carol Bond of La Condesa. This is the drink I would like to have enjoyed as a follow up to my peppery Redbud. This one had St. Germain, watermelon, agave nectar, and lime. This one was smooth going down, had a wonderful aroma thanks to a dollop of St. Germain foam on top, and just the right amount of sweetness from the watermelon and agave nectar.

The last drink was the Shirley Bird Tea by Larry Lantot of Hyatt Lost Pines Resort and Spa – a mixture of ginger liqueur, hibiscus mint tea, honey, lemon, and mint. This wound up being my least favorite, though by this point, I was somewhat suspicious of the accuracy of my taste buds. This drink was relatively understated – almost elegant. It wasn't bad, it just wasn't what I would choose to define this city.

The energy at the event was incredible. Cocktail lovers packed the Gibson Guitar Showroom, patiently working their way through the suggestion of a line to give all the contenders their day in court. The flurry of activity at the drink tables was intense (and very difficult to photograph). Ingredients were mixed, drinks were poured, and garnishes were applied at a pace that could only be described as blistering. And these hard-working cocktail-crafters managed to remain friendly and interactive, even through all the activity.

In the end, La Condesa's Enlightened Austin Martini won. While spicy has been Austin's choice the past two years running, this year, cool and refreshing stole the show. One could imagine sitting on an outdoor patio in the crazy heat of the Texas summer and letting one or three of these refreshing drinks remind them that heat is only one part of the city we all love so dearly.

Tuscany by way of Wimberley

April — Wed, 30 Sep 2009 22:18:00 GMT

Recently, we took advantage of a gorgeous weekend here in Texas and spent an afternoon in Wimberley. Our intention had been to head down to tour the olive orchard at the Bella Vista Ranch, but we wound up staying for a late lunch / early dinner at The Leaning Pear.

The olive orchard at Bella Vista Ranch was interesting. The temperatures here have finally settled to a dull roar, and the weekend was a perfect one for walking amongst the olive trees. We signed up for the ten-dollar-tour (scheduling available at their website) which included maybe an hour's-worth of discussion and tour followed by a guided olive oil and wine tasting. During our tour, we also got to check out the frantoio – their hard working olive press. (If you want to see the frantoio in action, you have one more chance this coming weekend, on October 3rd. Otherwise, it'll be next fall.)

Bella Vista Ranch, modeled after a traditional Italian family farm, is the first productive olive orchard in Texas. The Hill Country's poor soil and hot summers mimic nicely the Mediterranean conditions the olive trees are used to, so they grow and produce beautifully. Unfortunately, we have some crazy weather conditions through our semi-winter that can wreak havoc on the trees. The folks at the ranch have learned to take advantage when the harvest is good, and cope as gracefully as they can when a crazy 50-degree drop in temperature wipes out literally half their trees.

Also found around the ranch are a variety of citrus trees (one particular lime tree is lovingly known as “Jack's Margarita Machine” - named so by the ranch's owner, Jack Dougherty), an asparagus patch, and a bunch of olive paste-loving cattle. The setting was idyllic enough when we visited, but I can only imagine how miserable it can be harvesting olives by hand from over a thousand olive trees in the hundred degree heat of late summer.

Their olive oils are bottled under the name First Texas Olive Oil Co. Their unflavored extra virgin olive oil has a wonderful grassy, peppery flavor that so far we've only really managed to enjoy by soaking into bread and consuming outright. Bella Vista Ranch also sells some very intriguing flavored oils. My particular favorite was a blood orange infused oil, but they also have a mouth-wateringly-intense garlic infused oil as well as a truffle oil.

They also sell jams and soaps and vinegars. We, for instance, went home with a vanilla and fig infused balsamic vinegar that's very tasty, as it turns out, on vanilla ice cream. There are a handful of wines available for sampling and purchase as well.

After all that sipping and sampling, we were ravenous and trying to figure out where in Wimberley to eat. We had heard about The Leaning Pear restaurant from blogger Jodi Bart at her Tasty Touring site and decided to give it a shot. We were not disappointed. The restaurant itself is very pretty. It's a restored house (one of the oldest structures in Wimberley, in fact) with a beautifully arranged outdoor seating area. We came at an off time, so it wasn't very full, but I can imagine it being peaceful and relaxing even when all the tables are occupied.

The menu is comprised simply of soups, salads, and sandwiches, but I've heard it said before that simple can be very difficult to do well, and these folks have it nailed. Sean and I both started with a Blue Cheese and Tomato Bisque. The tomato soup was a vibrant red-orange and tasted of roasted tomato goodness. The blue cheese dolloped on top added an at once rich and piquant note.

My Shredded Beef Torta was incredible. The meat is slow-cooked in citrus and seasonings, so it is both fall-apart-tender and almost sweet-spicy in flavor. The red cabbage, jicama, and poblano slaw it was served with was beautifully textured and an assertive counterpoint to the sweet meat. It was served with house-made potato chips that were blissfully crunchy and not even a little bit oily.

Sean's Porchetta Panini (which I had actually wanted to order, but he beat me to it) was very nicely cooked, but more subtle in flavor. It's not that it was a bad sandwich, it's just that we both wound up preferring the more punchy flavors in mine.

Dessert was unreal – there's no other way to describe it. Sean ordered, innocently enough, a slice of chocolate cake. This chocolate cake was the size of his head, no kidding, and it was apparently so incredibly good that the maroon actually tried to eat it all. He stopped short of his goal, but not quickly enough to avoid feeling miserably overfed. I ordered the panna cotta with wild blueberries which turned out to be much more realistically sized. This was maybe the best panna cotta that I've ever eaten. It was rich and creamy and the light blueberry sauce was as acidic as it was syrupy and topped with a few mint leaves made for the perfect balance of flavors.

If you find yourself in Wimberley, TX when The Leaning Pear is open, I highly recommend stopping in. The make an art of their straightforward soups, salads, and sandwiches.

Best Little Hot Dog in Texas

April — Tue, 29 Sep 2009 03:16:00 GMT

This is mostly Sean's post. I'm writing it, but he's supplying all the information (just so you know who to blame later). Recently, a media event was held to kick off Flavors of Austin, a "52-Week Food Frenzy." Each week a different local restaurant, caterer, or supper club will offer up a discounted multi-course meal. Austin gets to try out a variety of restaurants at a discounted rate, and a portion of the proceeds will be donated to the Sustainable Food Center of Austin. The first restaurant in the Flavors lineup is Frank, a hot dog and artisan sausage restaurant-bar-market in the downtown area. Yeah, no need to wonder why Sean was so willing to attend the media event without me.

Sean tells me the downstairs part of Frank has sort of an old-timey country store feel, while the upstairs is more modern and urban.

I've heard repeatedly that the drinks are very good at Frank. Sean sampled two and loved them both. First, the Triple Crown, a mixture of bacon-infused Makers Mark, Blenheim Ginger Ale,and fresh lemon juice. Apparently you can order it with regular ginger ale or hot, and Sean wholeheartedly recommends the latter. He also tried the Ranch House Lemonade - Woodford Reserve, fresh lemon juice, ginger syrup, and fresh squeezed blood orange juice. This one he declared to be very drinkable and totally understood when he saw that you could order it by the carafe.

Foie Gras Sausage with Orange Segments and Brie - almost creamy-textured, interestingly flavored from the orange - Sean tells me this one tasted best when he ditched the bread and just ate the sausage and fixings.

Jalapeno Venison Sausage with Blueberry Coulis and Butter Kase Cheese - wonderfully spicy, neat blueberry tang from the coulis helped balance the heat from the jalapenos.

Italian Sausage with Fennel Mustard Salad and Aged Provolone - good solid Italian sausage - evidently there was other stuff on it, but Sean paid little attention to these.

Sean also helped himself to a Chicago dog (sans tomato, 'cause he's that kinda guy). He really loved the dog, but found that it had a pronounced celery seed flavor that might be off-putting to some (but not him - he dug it).

Alligator Boudin Fritters with Hatch Remoulade

Crawfish and Pork Sausage with Cajun Tartar Sauce and Lappi Cheese

Frank's Breakfast Offerings

Coffee brewing at Frank - 1. Heat water in bottom, 2. Water sucks up into top container and coffee steeps, 3. Bottom cools, allows coffee to trickle back down - Nature may abhor a vacuum, but Frank doesn't.

Frank is serving their Flavors of Austin hot dog flight till September 30th. From everything Sean has told me, I'll be surprised if we don't partake of it ourselves.

The Sausage Saga

April — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 22:23:00 GMT

Ah, sausage. Ruhlman entitles the sausage chapter of Charcuterie: The Craft of Salting, Smoking, and Curing, “The Power and the Glory: Animal Fat, Salt, and the Pig Come Together in One of the Oldest, Divine-yet-humble Culinary Creations Known to Humankind.” And no, I don't think there's any misplaced glorification. Turns out though that making decent sausage is easier said than done (at least for me ... at least so far).

This sausage madness really started on a trip to Italy a couple years ago. We had stopped in Bologna for lunch and had a large plate of cheeses and cured meats. The range of flavors was incredible. Rich and meaty sausages, salty-sweet prosciutto, exuberantly spiced salamis – I could eat like that forever. And several times since then, we've picked up a variety of cured meat products and cheeses, baked some bread and had our own feast in remembrance of our Italian meat adventure.

And of course, in my addled mind, it only made sense for me to try to make some of these things myself. There's been a fairly natural progression thus far. Step one – duck prosciutto. Cure a whole muscle (albeit a small one) in salt then dry it sufficiently to preserve it, slice, and serve. Step two – bacon. Cure and smoke a huge hunk of pork belly, slice, fry, and serve. So far, so good. Everything has been delicious, and I haven't poisoned anyone.

Time for “the power and the glory.” First up – loose ground uncured sausage. And if that went well, then cased uncured sausage. And finally, the pinnacle – cured sausage. At every step of my sausage making adventure (so far), I've encountered some degree of difficulty, owing mostly, I'm guessing, to lack of experience and/or skill. First there was my stubborn insistence that I didn't need to buy a KitchenAid mixer. For years I've held out, kneading countless piles of bread dough and stubbornly stirring stiff cookie dough till my arms by rights should have made Popeye jealous (except that I eat lots of bread and cookies so instead Popeye just rolls his eyes). What could cause me to finally buy one? Yeah, grinding meat for sausage.

But as mentioned, I was stubborn. I started with the old-school, clamp-to-the-table, April-powered model. Per Ruhlman and Polcyn's instructions in Charcuterie, I diced up and seasoned the pork ahead of time, mixed it with all the seasonings for chorizo, froze all metal parts of the grinder, and partially froze the meat. Then I set about grinding my first sausage. My assumption was that I'd have to work a little harder to crank out the ground meat, but that otherwise I'd have no problems. I was mistaken. I ground through about half a pound of meat before the blade was so seized up with what I'm assuming were sinews, that what came out of the grinding plate was chorizo flavored meat paste rather than actual ground sausage.

Everything was heating up (which is not conducive to a properly textured sausage) as I struggled with the manual grinder, so I decided to regroup and figure out what to do next (in the meantime adding some water and dried beans to the beautifully seasoned pork cubes and slow cooking for about three hours – a delicious mistake, to be sure). At this point, I would either need to figure out how to better de-sinew meat. Or I could buy a more powerful grinder. (Or, better still, both.) After a fair amount of deliberating and fussing almost ceaselessly about the cost, I went ahead and acquired a big, powerful KitchenAid mixer and the required sausage attachment.

For the next trial, I cut up about three pounds of pork and some hatch chiles for a nice pepper-flavored sausage. I'm pretty good at getting all the silver skin off a pork loin before I cook it, but apparently, I really and truly suck at recognizing the sinewy parts of a pork shoulder. So, while I might have done a better job than the first time at getting the meat cut properly, it still wasn't right. Fortunately, that KA has a decent motor and had essentially no problem bullying the meat through the blade and grinding plate. It wasn't till the very end of the process that the meat started smearing a bit as it came out of the grinder. The hatch sausage turned out wonderfully.

A few weeks later, I wanted to try another sausage – and this time I wanted to case it. At our local Central Market, the butchers sold me a length of natural hog casings (or as it's known here at home, pig guts on a stick). I bought some chicken thighs, some pork back fat (from the fine folks at Richardson Farms) and a variety of flavorings and went to work making the chicken-tomato-basil sausage described in Charcuterie. It sounded like the perfect sausage for stuffing into casings and grilling, so I was really excited to get started.

I bought bone-in chicken thighs so I could save the bones for soup stock and spent an embarrassingly long time processing enough chicken thighs to make three and a half pounds of meat. I augmented this with a pound and a half of frozen back fat (and for the record, I think it's actually easier to cut this stuff up when it's frozen than when it's thawed) and the aforementioned seasonings.

The sausage ground up nicely and I was feeling pretty good about things. And then I tried to stuff it. The casings were actually relatively easy to work with – at least as they were sold to me. They came fed onto this plastic stick, so it was a painless process to pull off the requisite amount of casing and cut it. I didn't even find it all that difficult to feed back onto whatever I was using to stuff.

But after that, unfortunately, things started to fall apart. First I tried using a piping bag, but that didn't work out too well. I'm guessing my bulk sausage wasn't fluid enough for that mechanism.

Next, we purchased the stuffing attachment for the KitchenAid. We had heard that it didn't work very well, but it was inexpensive (about $10), so we figured we'd try it out. I stuffed while Sean tried to keep the sausage compressed as it fed out the stuffing horn. There were issues on both ends of that operation. Here's the thing. Raw sausage is sticky. I was trying to feed it through the grinder with the help of the included plastic tamper. The sausage stuck to everything – my fingers, the hopper, the tamper. Also, it liked to sneak up around the tamper instead of letting the worm part of the grinder push it through to the stuffing horn. The tamper would stick horribly as I tried to pull it out to get the rogue sausage back into the hopper, and then as I would try to maneuver the tamper again, I'd wind up pushing a little sausage and a lot of air down into the mechanism. On Sean's end of things, a tiny dab of sausage and a whole lot of air would squish out. Let me paint a picture for you: we were making gory intestine balloons with little nuggets of beautiful (though by this point somewhat wounded) sausage bobbling around inside.

We've since been advised to prick holes in the casings as they're being stuffed to allow the extra air to escape, but even at that, I'm not sure how to get around the issue that the sausage was much more interested in ignoring the tamper and climbing up and out of the hopper than it was in flowing through the grinder and into the casings. In the meantime, I've been looking at purchasing a dedicated sausage stuffer. Unfortunately, the kind I'm interested in is expensive, so I may bludgeon my head against the wall for a while longer to see if I can figure out how to accomplish what I want with the tools I have.

At any rate, the uncased chicken-tomato-basil sausage was wonderfully rich and flavorful. So far, we've crumbled and sauteed it and used it as a pizza topping (along with a parmesan sauce, homemade mozzarella cheese, and chunks of sun-dried tomatoes). We've also treated it similarly for pasta dishes and are considering working it into a lasagna dish as well. But I still hold that that sausage wants badly to be cased and grilled, so that's definitely still my goal.

I know there are lots of you out there that successfully make your own sausage. As always, any suggestions or advice The Internet would like to offer to make my sausage endeavors more productive, I'd be happy to hear it.