tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40396530225342344462024-03-13T00:31:32.075-04:00No Chip Left BehindWhat's Your Food Story?Alexsandra Sukhoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09155564677578333591noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039653022534234446.post-70709598950558153732011-05-16T19:06:00.000-04:002011-07-02T19:06:37.176-04:00Back to the Future @ Sweet Moses<a href="http://www.creativecadence.com/_cc/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/sweet1.jpg"><img alt="" class="alignleft size-full wp-image-1800" height="563" src="http://www.creativecadence.com/_cc/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/sweet1.jpg" title="sweet1" width="430" /></a><br />
<b>Two and a half years ago</b>, at a marketing trend conference in the very trendy Miami, I had the unique pleasure of personally meeting chef-star Anthony Bourdain. His discussion, on the history of food, and his overall presence – no PowerPoint, no show and tell, just the man, fully in the moment – left a life-long impression with me. Anthony’s secret to success, both culinary and in life, lies primarily in his authenticity. The man on TV is the man in person. This food artist speaks about his craft with the same vivre that Leonard Cohen recites his poetry. And, when one of the many consumer good product managers in the audience raised her hand and asked Bourdain the needed yet, simultaneously, eye-rolling question of “Where are food trends headed?” Bourdain, calm and confident, surprised the corporate client, as well as the rest of us, by saying, “We will be eating the food of our grandparents.”<br />
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His quote has lingered in my mind like a bell tower, ringing daily at noon. The reason? Ever since, everywhere I turn, I see the world operating in some sort of anachronistic vacuum. Like a series of micro time machines – in food, in media and in culture – people are looking back, unapologetically: Black and white photography. <i>Mad Men</i>. <i>Boardwalk Empire</i>. Vinyl records. Millinery shops. Sewing clubs. Knitting circles. Fish heads. Head cheese. Barber shops. Bowling leagues. Mumford and Sons. Betty White. The list goes on. Is it truly a sense of nostalgia? Or the human race’s incapability and secret disinterest in keeping up with the post-modern, always-connected, real-time world? Perhaps a bit of both?<br />
<b><a href="http://www.coolcleveland.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/sweet3.jpg"><img alt="" height="330" src="http://www.coolcleveland.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/sweet3.jpg" title="sweet3" width="430" /></a></b><br />
<b>We want to slow down.</b> We want to reach out. We want to feel the innocence of our youth and live in the perceived community of a simpler time.<br />
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And we want to drink our milkshakes.<br />
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Sweet Moses Soda Fountain & Treat Shop, which opened March 26 in the resurrecting Gordon Square Arts District, provides the desserts and the atmosphere of this retro lifestyle. With its antique brass-like cash register, wooden over-sized mirror, marble soda counter, wait staff in matching white aprons and pointy hats and numerous posters of vintage Cleveland, the new eatery could easily belong in a Norman Rockwell painting.<br />
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And, people are flocking to stand in line for one of the many temptations. From gourmet chocolate to root beer floats to flavored popcorn, Sweet Moses features a tempting menu of tasty delights, providing the perfect technology reprieve for adults and kids alike. Whether a weekday or weekend, afternoon or early evening, patrons of all shapes, sizes, ages, ethnic groups, relationship status and economic means arrive at the dessert oasis, ready for something new. They also secretly hope that, after a very long and wet season, perhaps, eating a hot fudge sundae will finally bring sunshine and warmth to Cleveland.<br />
<b><a href="http://www.coolcleveland.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/sweet4.jpg"><img alt="" height="298" src="http://www.coolcleveland.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/sweet4.jpg" title="sweet4" width="221" /></a>The handmade delicacies</b> offer a rich flavor, one so savory that it actually does make us want to slow down, to take it all in, one delicious sip at a time.<br />
In fact, the lingering feeling of joy this place infuses brought me back three times in one week. Each time, with different friends and, on one occasion, even running into my neighbor and her dad and niece, who were both visiting from England. All three individuals, and generations, enjoyed their American goodness.<br />
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Whenever I review a local food establishment, there’s one staple dish I look for each time. Blame it on <i>Pulp Fiction</i>‘s memorable Jackrabbit Slim scene, but nothing will come between me and my $4 milkshake. And, I will go on record and say that Sweet Moses has the best chocolate milkshake I have ever had – in N.E. Ohio, in the States and in the world.<br />
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With the much welcomed addition of Sweet Moses, the Capitol Theater in full swing and the rest of the neighborhood revealing new gems to explore, this summer, Gordon Square will be the place to be, to watch, to eat, to shop to stroll and to run into your friends and neighbors, sit down, relax, talk, laugh, discuss and be present. Our grandparents could not be more proud.<br />
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<b>Additional information about Sweet Moses is available on its Facebook page and can also be viewed at <a href="http://sweetmosestreats.com/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">http://SweetMosesTreats.com</a>.</b><br />
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Reprinted with permission and gratitude from <a href="http://www.coolcleveland.com/">CoolCleveland.com.</a>Alexsandra Sukhoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09155564677578333591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039653022534234446.post-25083362820268413682011-03-11T19:03:00.000-05:002011-07-02T19:04:11.040-04:00Klezmafour @ Anatolia Cafe – The World Converges in Cleveland<a href="http://www.creativecadence.com/_cc/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/k11.jpg"><img alt="" class="alignleft size-full wp-image-1791" height="285" src="http://www.creativecadence.com/_cc/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/k11.jpg" title="k1" width="430" /></a><br />
<b>Once in a rare moon</b>, you find yourself in a place and time where you have no concept of year or geography… where everything blurs into some sort of creative vacuum, one most often found while watching an engaging movie. Except, in these surreal moments, you begin to realize the you are the character on screen and that, perhaps, somewhere behind the walls or through the ceiling, a series of hidden cameras captures everything. And during those temporary escapisms, you just surrender to the atmosphere and enjoy the ride. Tuesday, March 8 was one of those nights.<br />
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<b>Anatolia, a Turkish restaurant</b> filling its new location in the Cedar-Lee area, blocked a narrow room with two vertical rows of tables, giving the sense of an old-school dining hall. As patrons filled the space, representing the various populations of this culturally diverse region: at least four different languages — English, Russian, Polish and Turkish — echoed in the tight rectangular room. People of all ages and occupations — from entrepreneurs and architects to law students and even a prominent New York City film producer — quickly found their seats.<br />
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The waiters, prompt and courteous, squeezed their way through the only walk path, between the two lanes of tables, bringing Turkish delights such as dolma, hummus, warm pita, babbaganush and other appetizers, many made with garlic and additional spices. With the hors d’oeuvres and spirits on the table, the post-work crowd began to loosen up, smile and converse with neighbors to the right and to the left. Stomachs and moods happy, we all sat in anticipation of the core reason we all showed up, some last minute, to this Cleveland Heights destination: To listen to Klezmafour.<br />
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<img align="left" alt="" height="180" src="http://www2.coolcleveland.com/images/002011/031611/anatolia.jpg" width="304" /><b>Klezmafour is a band of musicians</b> from Lublin, Poland: five young guys playing traditional Klezmer music and bringing their energy and joy to anyone willing to accept the great vibe. The band, together for just over a decade, takes the traditional century-old melodies and infuses everything from reggae to Arabic influence. A promoter first discovered the band in Amsterdam and has since brought the musical artists to North America, where Klezmafour is currently touring.<br />
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As we sat in anticipation waiting for the band to begin its first set, none of us could have predicted what happened next. The musicians found their tiny corner, picked up their instruments and began to play. At first, the clarinet, violin, accordion, stand up bass and drums warmed up with classic Balkan melodies, familiar to any of us who either had ancestors from “the old country” or were actually born across the ocean and then brought here for a better life.<br />
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<div><b>Klezmafour eventually took it up a notch</b>, adding poly-rhythmic structures, complex intonations and incredible syncopation all the while preserving a volume that, in the small space, felt powerful yet not deafening. These guys have killer control over their instruments and their craft.</div><div></div>When Klezmafour broke for intermission, the waiters quickly brought us main dishes including hearty lentil soup, lamb shish kebab, shavarma — served with a cucumber yogurt sauce — beet salad and flavorful rice. Friends, new and old, shared the bountiful treats, even eating off of each other’s plates, bringing back that warm and unpretentious comfort that we usually can only experience in our own homes with our own families.<br />
By the time Klezmafour began its second set — intense, risky and transformative — I expected the crowd to get on the tables and dance. This would have been the only logical choice of behavior given all the stimulants and surrounding vibrations that transcended beyond the present.<br />
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<b>Sometimes art imitates life.</b> And, if we’re really lucky, life is art.<br />
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As one of the patrons wisely commented that evening, “Christian musicians playing Jewish music in a Muslim restaurant.”<br />
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How American. How very Cleveland.<br />
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<b>Anatolia Café is located at 2270 Lee Rd. in Cleveland Heights. 216-321-4400. You can also follow Anatolia Café on Facebook and on its website: <a href="http://www.anatoliacafe.com/index.asp" target="_blank">http://AnatoliaCafe.com/index.asp</a>. You can follow Klezmafour’s music and tour info on its website <a href="http://klezmafour.pl/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">http://Klezmafour.pl</a> and its Facebook page.</b><br />
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Bottom Food Photo: Anatolia.<br />
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Reprinted with permission and gratitude from <a href="http://www.coolcleveland.com/">CoolCleveland.com.</a><br />
<br class="spacer_" />Alexsandra Sukhoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09155564677578333591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039653022534234446.post-73700758888572341742011-02-25T19:00:00.001-05:002011-07-02T19:01:56.815-04:00XYZ Tavern: Good Cheer, Cleveland Style<div class="wp-caption alignleft" id="attachment_1575" style="width: 434px;"><a href="http://www.creativecadence.com/_cc/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/Picture-1.png"><img alt="" class="size-full wp-image-1575" height="322" src="http://www.creativecadence.com/_cc/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/Picture-1.png" title="XYZ Tavern, Gordon Square, Photo by Alex Sukhoy, Cool Cleveland" width="424" /></a><br />
<div class="wp-caption-text">XYZ Tavern, Gordon Square</div></div><br />
<b> If last Friday’s soft opening of XYZ Tavern</b> is any indication of the new pub’s success, then Cleveland’s newest tap house is poised for a bright future.<br />
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Located off W. 65th and Detroit, in creatively cultivated Gordon Square — also home to the Cleveland Public Theater, the recently renovated Capitol Theater, Luxe, Gypsy Beans and Bakery and other local burgeoning businesses — XYZ, sister to W. 25th ABC Tavern, offers a <i>Cheers</i>-like atmosphere where, at least on one night, everybody knew everybody’s name.<br />
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<b>Alan Glazen, proprietor of both taverns</b>, as well as of Erie Island Coffee (East 4th and Rocky River locations) worked extremely hard opening the new venue, showing delicate patience as everything — from the marquee sign to the industrial garage door, which, in warm weather, will open to an intimate outdoor seating area, to the final touches and interior artwork — came together for February. And, the wait has been worth it.<br />
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<div class="wp-caption alignnone" style="width: 359px;"><img align="left" alt="" height="167" src="http://www2.coolcleveland.com/images/002011/030211/xyz2.jpg" title="XYZ Tavern #2, Gordon Square, Photo by Alex Sukhoy , Cool Cleveland" width="349" /><br />
<div class="wp-caption-text">XYZ Tavern, Opening</div></div><br />
<b>Alan, a media expert </b>who, in addition to his dining establishments also teaches Art of Story at Tri-C, has a feel for what the locals crave, especially after a hard day at work — whether the office or the classroom — and offers up the specialness, in generous abundance: a welcoming environment, flavorful appetizers and a wide selection of spirits, all presented with the friendliest service.<br />
Packed corner to corner during its first soft opening evening, the crowd at XYZ represented the best of Cleveland’s cultural community: artists and writers, professors and business people, lawyers and entrepreneurs, all mingling, eating, drinking and celebrating together. And, unlike some other C-Town bars, XYZ doesn’t feel like a fraternity party; it’s very much a place for adults, including those young at heart.<br />
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<b>If anything, the atmosphere at XYZ</b>, with its dimmed interior, black and white historical photography and brick walls, feels more like the kind of place, that, twenty years from now will still send off a timeless vibe, one that recognizes its patrons and provides exactly what they need most: a place to unwind and to recharge.<br />
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Stop by XYZ and raise a glass or two. Chances are, you’ll know somebody there. And, if not when you arrive, you will by the time you leave.<br />
Cheers!<br />
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<b>XYZ Tavern is located at 6419 Detroit Ave. in Cleveland. Hours are Fri – Sat: 5PM – 2:30AM. You can also follow XYZ on Facebook and on its website: <a href="http://xyzthetavern.com/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">http://XYZTheTavern.com</a>.</b><br />
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Reprinted with permission and gratitude from <a href="http://www.coolcleveland.com/">CoolCleveland.com.</a>Alexsandra Sukhoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09155564677578333591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039653022534234446.post-60593421038846088772010-04-12T07:47:00.000-04:002010-04-12T07:47:26.156-04:00The Adirondacker<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjserN7q_-Cr8SbMre6-iyCnQlX4H9ubJinCXrQAOdwq2vnbK7l3ZImiLFafs0-WgNSCx5nlZqmD27lDyZxy-yQrZky87fLDT9ltVibatrz0Qp5hbD7wsXBsD-R6Y0DVW-OeRSu0cmEWApm/s1600/IMG00257-20100410-1814.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjserN7q_-Cr8SbMre6-iyCnQlX4H9ubJinCXrQAOdwq2vnbK7l3ZImiLFafs0-WgNSCx5nlZqmD27lDyZxy-yQrZky87fLDT9ltVibatrz0Qp5hbD7wsXBsD-R6Y0DVW-OeRSu0cmEWApm/s320/IMG00257-20100410-1814.jpg" /></a></div>There is a beauty in hamburger that most people don't really understand. Ground meat is as versatile as pasta. I will often just mix in dices leek, Worcester Sauce, bread crumbs, egg, and chopped garlic. Just the variety of cheeses that could go on a burger can make the flavor change drastically. There is nothing like a good Jalapeño cheddar! I really love to hear about other people's creativity with their burgers. For this reason, I am an avid fan of Rachel Ray. She has a feature recipe in her magazine each month devoted to the nuance of the burger. Bon appetit indeed.<br />
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(<a href="http://www.rachaelraymag.com/Recipes/rachael-ray-magazine-recipes/rachael-ray-burger-recipes/The-Adirondacker">Source: Rachel Ray Magazine, Februrary 2010</a>)<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br />
<h2 class="recipe-title" style="color: #ff9900; font-size: 20px; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-transform: none;"><span id="ctl00_MainContent_lblRecipeTitle" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">The Adirondacker</span></h2><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"></span><br />
<div class="ingredients" style="clear: both; float: left; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 20px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: 324px;"><h4 style="color: #0099cc; display: inline; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold !important; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-transform: uppercase;">INGREDIENTS:</h4><ul style="list-style-image: initial; list-style-position: initial; list-style-type: none; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 15px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><li style="clear: both; color: #333333; float: left; font-size: 12px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 12px; margin-bottom: 2px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 2px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: 324px;">8 slices smoked bacon</li>
<li style="clear: both; color: #333333; float: left; font-size: 12px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 12px; margin-bottom: 2px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 2px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: 324px;">2 pounds ground sirloin</li>
<li style="clear: both; color: #333333; float: left; font-size: 12px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 12px; margin-bottom: 2px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 2px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: 324px;">2 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce</li>
<li style="clear: both; color: #333333; float: left; font-size: 12px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 12px; margin-bottom: 2px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 2px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: 324px;">2 tablespoons prepared horseradish</li>
<li style="clear: both; color: #333333; float: left; font-size: 12px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 12px; margin-bottom: 2px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 2px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: 324px;">Salt and pepper</li>
<li style="clear: both; color: #333333; float: left; font-size: 12px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 12px; margin-bottom: 2px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 2px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: 324px;">8 ounces shredded or sliced extra-sharp white cheddar cheese</li>
<li style="clear: both; color: #333333; float: left; font-size: 12px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 12px; margin-bottom: 2px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 2px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: 324px;">1 cup sour cream</li>
<li style="clear: both; color: #333333; float: left; font-size: 12px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 12px; margin-bottom: 2px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 2px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: 324px;">1/3 cup finely chopped flat-leaf parsley (a generous handful)</li>
<li style="clear: both; color: #333333; float: left; font-size: 12px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 12px; margin-bottom: 2px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 2px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: 324px;">1/3 cup finely chopped chives (a generous handful)</li>
<li style="clear: both; color: #333333; float: left; font-size: 12px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 12px; margin-bottom: 2px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 2px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: 324px;">1/3 cup finely chopped dill (a generous handful)</li>
<li style="clear: both; color: #333333; float: left; font-size: 12px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 12px; margin-bottom: 2px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 2px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: 324px;">4 crusty kaiser rolls, split</li>
<li style="clear: both; color: #333333; float: left; font-size: 12px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 12px; margin-bottom: 2px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 2px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: 324px;">1 bunch watercress or arugula, chopped</li>
</ul></div><div class="directions" style="clear: both; float: left; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 20px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: 644px;"><h4 style="color: #0099cc; display: inline; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold !important; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-transform: uppercase;">DIRECTIONS:</h4><ol style="clear: both; color: #0085bd; float: left; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; list-style-image: initial; list-style-position: outside; list-style-type: decimal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 24px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: 620px;"><li style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><div style="color: #333333; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 12px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 12px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">In a large skillet, cook the bacon over medium-high heat until crisp. Drain on paper towels. Discard all but 1 tablespoon bacon fat.</div></li>
<li style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><div style="color: #333333; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 12px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 12px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">In a medium bowl, combine the sirloin, Worcestershire sauce and horseradish; season with salt and pepper. Form into 4 patties. Heat the bacon fat in the skillet over medium-high heat. Add the beef patties and cook, turning once, for 8 minutes for medium. Melt the cheese on top of the patties during the last 2 minutes of cooking.</div></li>
<li style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><div style="color: #333333; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 12px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 12px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Meanwhile, in a medium bowl, combine the sour cream, parsley, chives, dill and lots of pepper.</div></li>
<li style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><div style="color: #333333; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 12px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 12px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Place the cheeseburgers on the roll bottoms and top each with 2 slices bacon and some watercress. Slather the bun tops with the sour cream sauce and set into place.</div></li>
</ol></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039653022534234446.post-57536431520034348412010-04-10T22:43:00.002-04:002010-04-20T22:45:48.393-04:00Business and Burgers: Two Dads' Diner<div><a href="http://www.creativecadence.com/_cc/wp-content/uploads/2010/04/DSCN2719.JPG"><img alt="DSCN2719" class="alignleft size-medium wp-image-932" height="191" src="http://www.creativecadence.com/_cc/wp-content/uploads/2010/04/DSCN2719-300x191.jpg" title="DSCN2719" width="300" /></a> <b>Before moving to Cleveland </b>in 2003, I spent two years in upstate New York, working hard earning my M.B.A. at the Simon School. The winters of Rochacha, as it’s referred to by the natives, are cold, snowy, gray and the city rests just south of one of the five Great Lakes. Sound familiar? To keep the energy going, the school would sometimes host after hour events at the local diners, places where, for $10, you could order a three-course dinner complete with canned chicken soup, a burger and fries and even a piece of chocolate pie. The decor in these diners stayed true to its 70’s blue collar origins and the yellow lighting and solo customers sipping their sole cup of coffee before stepping outside for a smoke reminded you why movies, politicians and diners go hand in hand: there’s a quiet understanding of social distance and simultaneous friendliness, a contrast of decision-making suits enjoying cheap meals next to time-clocked people in uniforms. A good diner will serve you a cup of coffee, a sandwich and a side order of “Enjoy and carry on.”</div><div><br />
<span id="more-924"></span></div>As a frequenter of this type of dining establishment, I had to go and try Two Dads’ Diner on Detroit in Lakewood. Recruiting a couple of downtown Cleveland residents as my accomplices, we headed to the new restaurant on a casual workday evening. Parking right in front of the doors, we entered and, quickly, one of the waitresses asked us where we wanted to sit. It’s a diner, so, personally, nothing but a booth would do. The three of us chose one, towards the back, away from the draft of the front door. Hungry and cold, we immediately began to investigate the menu, but not until we checked out the space. Fabric-covered booths against the wall, muted green colors accenting the neutral surrounding decor, desserts staged near the register on inexpensive plastic pedestal plates with see-through tall lids and unpretentious and helpful, witty employees. Yep, this is very much a timeless, kitschy diner cafe.<br />
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We proceeded to order: chicken paprikash, hamburger with onion rings and, of course, a tuna melt with fries and a chocolate milk shake. Before the food arrived, the owner, John, one of the two dads, who made the rounds with the others guests, stopped by and chatted up with us. A tall man with an edgy sense of humor, he proceeded to give us the story. He and Frank, the other dad who is the chef, have known each other for years and, between the two of them, they have “two wives and eight daughters.” They wanted to go into business together and thought that opening this would be the perfect opportunity to do what they love.<br />
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John continued to entertain us until our food arrived, and, as our eyes were hungrier than our stomachs, we pretty much devoured our meals. For the most part, we enjoyed everything. My tuna melt, not a standard menu option, thus custom made, had a very distinct taste. The tuna salad, intended to be eaten sans the toast and hot cheese, surprised me a little with its extra kick. Beyond that, the meals tasted like the food one would expect at such a place, just better. That’s because the two dads do what they can to serve local produce. Even the meat comes from the butcher, directly across the street. Additionally, the portions are generous and the prices are incredibly reasonable. Finally, Frank prepares several of the staples from scratch, including the blue cheese dressing, the salad croutons – crispy on the outside and layered in flavor on the inside – and the home-made onion ring sauce, a combination of horseradish, mayo, Worchester, ketchup and other ingredients, giving it a creamy consistency with a vinegar-based sharpness. Two Dads’ Diner is diner food, plus.<br />
<div><img align="left" alt="" src="http://www2.coolcleveland.com/images/002010/031010/2dads1.jpg" /> <b> </b></div><div><br />
<b>During our conversation</b> with John, I mentioned to him that his new restaurant reminded me of what the Theatrical Grill, (opened by Morris “Mushy” Wexler), may have once been, sans the jazz and the jars of pickles on the tables. John was stunned that I even knew what the Theatrical was and I reassured him that, as a non-native Clevelander, the only reason I knew about it was because it’s frequently mentioned in <i>Crooked River Burning</i> (by Mark Winegardner – the book should be the mandatory welcome manual to anyone moving here. But that’s another topic for another column). And, based on this historical novel set in this city, my impression of the former Vincent street legendary establishment is one of a place where politicians, mobsters and business people made their deals, quietly, and where big decisions that influenced the lives of Clevelanders occurred. Two Dads’ Diner, just down the street from a well-known congressman’s office and blocks away from numerous office buildings, while not a grand entertainment venue, gives off that same kind of vibe. It’s like “Glengarry Glen Ross” meets “Cheers.” <br />
<br />
About a week after this outing, my neighbor and I stopped in to have some lunch at Two Dads’. Both dressed in casual sweats, sans makeup and really just there to enjoy a cup of soup and a sandwich before heading back home to work, we observed the incredibly kind service, the very fresh food and, a row down, the uber important looking men, in suits, discussing something, quietly. Mssr. Wexler would be so proud.<br />
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</div><b>Two Dad’s Diner has no website, but does have a thriving and loyal <a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Lakewood-OH/Two-Dads-Diner/221899403873?ref=search&sid=588784018.3932689179..1" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Facebook</a> Page. Info: 14412 Detroit Ave, Lakewood, OH, 44107 Phone: 216-226-3270 Hours: Mon – Sat: 7:00 am – 8:00 pm, Sun: 7:00 am – 2:00 pm</b><br />
<br />
<b>Reprinted with permission and gratitude from <a href="http://www.coolcleveland.com/home/" target="_blank">CoolCleveland.com</a></b>Alexsandra Sukhoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09155564677578333591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039653022534234446.post-42882218455336183512010-04-06T07:58:00.004-04:002010-04-06T09:10:07.427-04:00Banana Cream Pie<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8t-W_bcSOHD4DWhVWzCy-8SEB204V3I73Hc-C0m96aIOuGA2odaCFT7MEcqZZXHDA9CBjlwB7RuahXdcohP5nTuJ_s0PTWZw_fyM0vYy9LluevOlW6RhTR0g8b-lwuCn2wJLBfMACa6qZ/s1600/Easter+2010+030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8t-W_bcSOHD4DWhVWzCy-8SEB204V3I73Hc-C0m96aIOuGA2odaCFT7MEcqZZXHDA9CBjlwB7RuahXdcohP5nTuJ_s0PTWZw_fyM0vYy9LluevOlW6RhTR0g8b-lwuCn2wJLBfMACa6qZ/s200/Easter+2010+030.jpg" width="200" /></a>Banana Cream Pie is the definition of down-home decadence. It is so rich and delightful that it has been years since I allowed myself the pleasure of enjoying this wonder. To me, it feels as risqué as spending a weekend riding with a rough motorcycle gang. Dangerous, self-gratifying, fun, and somehow out-of-bounds. It is easily one of my favorite desserts, but I know that there can be no self-control with this bad-boy around. It will haunt me until I am drunk with flavors so complete and complex that it forces me to press forward - just one more bite! Just like so many haunted characters, this friend is surprisingly simple. Beaten early and long, the golden exterior belies a soft, creamy underbelly that melts hearts and tastes simultaneously. Stay away. Stay away or be stricken with longing for the rest of your lives. Please god, deliver me (another pie).<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px;"></span><br />
<h1 class="plaincharacterwrap" id="itemTitle" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #999999; font-size: 18px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;">Banana Cream Pie</h1><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisrr-2dZsKwUKXwRMSCE365QGpTkyR1WtOYP1zCqOOl4Nd-f-GZWnLfF2TXbRPpvgGidJfVtVf0S7ATbKDFg227gcqdzlGct5ajxYpurvhL1V_TsSvfAR-htcwpuz07Gf1yNTCma4cGxc0/s1600/Easter+2010+029.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisrr-2dZsKwUKXwRMSCE365QGpTkyR1WtOYP1zCqOOl4Nd-f-GZWnLfF2TXbRPpvgGidJfVtVf0S7ATbKDFg227gcqdzlGct5ajxYpurvhL1V_TsSvfAR-htcwpuz07Gf1yNTCma4cGxc0/s320/Easter+2010+029.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Banana-Cream-Pie-I/Detail.aspx">(source: allrecipes.com)</a></div><br />
<div class="ingredients" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><h3 style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #7a7a7a; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Ingredients</h3><ul style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; list-style-image: initial; list-style-position: initial; list-style-type: none; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><li class="plaincharacterwrap" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;">3/4 cup white sugar</li>
<li class="plaincharacterwrap" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;">1/3 cup all-purpose flour</li>
<li class="plaincharacterwrap" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;">1/4 teaspoon salt</li>
<li class="plaincharacterwrap" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;">2 cups milk</li>
<li class="plaincharacterwrap" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;">3 egg yolks, beaten</li>
<li class="plaincharacterwrap" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;">2 tablespoons butter</li>
<li class="plaincharacterwrap" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;">1 1/4 teaspoons vanilla extract</li>
<li class="plaincharacterwrap" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;">1 (9 inch) pie crust, baked</li>
<li class="plaincharacterwrap" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;">4 bananas, sliced</li>
</ul></div><div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-top-style: dotted; border-top-width: 1px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 20px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: 300px;"></div><div class="directions" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><h3 style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #7a7a7a; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Directions</h3><ol style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; list-style-image: initial; list-style-position: initial; list-style-type: decimal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 16px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 16px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><li style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="plaincharacterwrap break" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;">In a saucepan, combine the sugar, flour, and salt. Add milk in gradually while stirring gently. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until the mixture is bubbly. Keep stirring and cook for about 2 more minutes, and then remove from the burner.</span></li>
<li style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="plaincharacterwrap break" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;">Stir a small quantity of the hot mixture into the beaten egg yolks, and immediately add egg yolk mixture to the rest of the hot mixture. Cook for 2 more minutes; remember to keep stirring. Remove the mixture from the stove, and add butter and vanilla. Stir until the whole thing has a smooth consistency.</span></li>
<li style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="plaincharacterwrap break" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;">Slice bananas into the cooled baked pastry shell. Top with pudding mixture.</span></li>
<li style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="plaincharacterwrap break" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;">Bake at 350 degrees F (175 degrees C) for 12 to 15 minutes. Chill for an hour.</span></li>
</ol></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039653022534234446.post-57657227957337304472010-03-20T16:36:00.000-04:002010-03-20T16:36:20.818-04:00A Long Progression: Espresso<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGcUryKOEmIwPDl1uANM9hZa2DzSoU4nPgkSBs8zSaqLgERPWrpwx2lhIJBFnL89600vhWtiOdX0sNTqMXvmkMgb7YUzpoI0tlNwT0qtfLxxO5UctNs-uWjhDLmYVsE3eKgsOQ9PM13h0K/s1600-h/IMG00227-20100320-1542.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGcUryKOEmIwPDl1uANM9hZa2DzSoU4nPgkSBs8zSaqLgERPWrpwx2lhIJBFnL89600vhWtiOdX0sNTqMXvmkMgb7YUzpoI0tlNwT0qtfLxxO5UctNs-uWjhDLmYVsE3eKgsOQ9PM13h0K/s320/IMG00227-20100320-1542.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>I find it interesting and amusing how there is this long progression of development in tastes in the culinary arts. For instance, newbie wine drinkers usually start with something light and sweet, and after a long process of defining their pallet, will eventually find that wine distasteful and instead go for a brutal, dry Cabernet Sauvignon. At least I will. Similarly, those who subsist on chicken fingers will never understand the delicate flavors and amazing complexities of a foie gras. But frankly, I can enjoy either equally. Maybe I need some more work on that one...<br />
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Espresso is one of these complex and full tastes that isn't easily appreciated without a long history with the coffee bean. My first coffees were heavily spiked with cream and sugar. It took many years before relaxing the cream and eliminating the sugar. I still enjoy a bit of half and half with my morning cup. But that cup is made from a darkly roasted arabic coffee bean. Drinking coffee from robusto beans in a jaunty light roast feels like someone is robbing me. Something is missing or something has been taken.<br />
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There is something to be said for how you are introduced to your tastes as well. I had taken shots of espresso from local US cafes and it never really seemed to tempt my pallet. It was experimental. What about this espresso stuff? There was no process. Even a good wine requires a full bouquet, a good view through the glass, and the experience as each swallow piques the sensory specialties of each section of your tongue. Understanding that food takes time. We are not talking time in the perfunctory sense of the word, but time in the sense of really being present to the experience of not just the food but also the process of the food. <br />
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I am going to expect that this idea of being present to your food may be hard to swallow. (Eh-hem) After all, it seems that there are so few times in our days that we are fully present to our experience at all. We are so often preoccupied with the pressure of our day, plans for the future, or worries around some drama that pure experiences get drowned out by the conversations in our heads. <br />
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I feel lucky that I was able to take a little time with a new friend one weekend in Strasbourg, France. We sat at a outdoor cafe in June facing the awesome cathedral in this town and he ordered us each an espresso. I watched him, fascinated by the care and precision with with he prepared and drank his tiny cup. Naturally, I copied him and I have since never looked back. I found that the best preparation comes from the simplest means, a $20 stove-top espresso maker, a can of Italian roast, and some tiny cups. The hardest part is still slowing down to really experience and enjoy the flavor.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039653022534234446.post-61206403694684625212010-03-17T14:09:00.001-04:002010-03-20T14:10:39.549-04:00Chocolate Bar: Temptation Made Easy<div><img align="left" alt="" src="http://www2.coolcleveland.com/images/002010/021010/chocolate1.jpg" width="200px" /> <b>On the edge of East 4th Street</b>, Cleveland’s gastronomic Mecca, where Vivo once stood, the Chocolate Bar recently opened its doors. A franchise restaurant with another location in Buffalo, the name alone generated a certain buzz across town and peaked the interest of some friends who know a thing or two about the food industry. </div>Thus, on a chilly mid-January evening, after a delicious dinner at Greenhouse, the four of us headed to Chocolate Bar for decadence and discussion.<br />
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Walking in from the Euclid entrance (vs. the Arcade), we immediately noticed the counter, selling premium chocolates as well as t-shirts with clever chocolate expressions.<br />
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Also, while some of the previous tenant’s interiors seemed familiar, significant changes within the space, including different lighting, an elevated corner platform and a glass refrigerator showcasing an array of goodies, made it evident that someone new has arrived. Additionally, on a background screen, “Willy Wonka” (the remake) plays, sans sound. From our initial impression, we knew we crossed into a chocolate zone and couldn’t wait to sit down and enjoy some delicacies to curb our cravings.<br />
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The quiet Monday evening provided seating flexibility and quick service. Our waitress arrived promptly and, from the get go, permeated a great energy: not only did she bring the men the custom drink they ordered without any hassle, but she also hammed it up with us, revealing a personality that fit well within a theme restaurant.<br />
<div><img align="left" alt="" src="http://www2.coolcleveland.com/images/002010/021010/chocolate2.jpg" width="550px" /> <b>To be clear</b>, Chocolate Bar features a full menu, including appetizers, soups, salads, sandwiches and main dishes. But, with its immediate name association, the four of us ordered the following five desserts: The Belgian Chocolate Pyramid ($6.95), “Belgian chocolate mousse with a hint of hazelnut praline covered in a shell of chocolate,” Frozen Hot Chocolate ($9.95) [pictured, bottom] “Made famous in NYC,” Kahlua Heath Bar Torte ($6.59) [pictured, center] “a smooth rich chocolate mousse with a hint of Kahlua, Heath bar and crushed cookie bottom,” Hot Fudge ($7.95) “Vanilla ice cream, homemade hot fudge, real whipped cream,” and an Alp’ Accino ($12.95) [pictured, top], a trademarked “Chocolate Bar original liquor milkshake.” </div><br />
The mere anticipation of these gluttonous delights aroused an excitement within us, and anyone needing to lure in a potential mate should keep this sensation in mind. Regardless of one’s age group, Chocolate Bar is a foolproof destination for anyone in the early dating or relationship rekindling stages. With its divine menu of food options, dimmed atmosphere, swanky location and alcoholic ambrosial pourings – including over twenty distinct martini choices – it will spice up a mood, opening doors that might otherwise remain closed.<br />
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Thus, when our food arrived, we were more than ready to embrace the offerings. The generous alcohol of the Alp’ Accino, a heavenly child-like concoction, quickly reminded us that it’s very much a grown-up drink. Barring the over-indulgent portions of whipped cream on most of the desserts we ordered, the iced hot chocolate also resonated quite well with this group. The other three desserts, while all in wonderful presentation and in various degrees of texture, felt almost interchangeable. As one of my friends stated, “Everything ends on the same note.” Another friend strongly recommended a comeback visit, to try different menu items, for better overall restaurant assessment.<br />
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<div><img align="left" alt="" src="http://www2.coolcleveland.com/images/002010/021010/chocolate3.jpg" /> <b>Completely unplanned</b>, as life usually happens, three days later, an hour after receiving a text from a Chicago friend in town on business, I joined him and his crew of architects at Lola’s, where the gentlemen wrapped up their dinner. Afterwards two of the architects, whom I’ve both known for over twenty years, and I headed north, back to Chocolate Bar. In the midst of a post-game crowd, with downtown Cleveland alive with energy, the three of us entered what felt like a completely different venue. Suddenly, Chocolate Bar was packed. Specifically, the bar was packed with patrons and the overall vibe had a certain mojo going. </div>Our waiter, friendly, warm and quick, brought out our orders: Dark Hot Chocolate ($5.95), Roarin’ Root Beer Float ($5.95) with bourbon ($2.50) and an appetizer – Steak Crostini ($9.95), “grilled steak with garlic baguette, provolone, caramelized onions and parsley oil.” The crostini – juicy and full of flavor – tasted scrumptious, even at 11:15PM, and the gentlemen were quite pleased with their drinks.<br />
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To truly have a happy and memorable experience at Chocolate Bar, one thing to keep in mind when ordering your desserts is which school of chocolate you fall into: sugar or cocoa. If the former, you will love the heavy portions of whipped cream and many of the beautiful and quite sweet desserts. If the latter, look for items marked using dark chocolate, hold the whipped cream and lean towards items that use branded ingredients in the recipe – flavors that you already know.<br />
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Overall, an experience at Chocolate Bar lifts the spirits and taps into a sensual subconscious. The quick and friendly service, wide menu of options and beautiful presentation stage this new concept spot as an excellent extension of East 4th Street. So give Chocolate Bar a try. Temptation awaits you.<br />
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<b>For hours and additional menu info, visit <a href="http://www.originalchocolatebar.com/cleveland/newintro.html" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">http://www.originalchocolatebar.com/cleveland/newintro.html</a>.</b><br />
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<b>Reprinted with permission from <a href="http://www.coolcleveland.com/home/" target="_blank">CoolCleveland.com</a></b>Alexsandra Sukhoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09155564677578333591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039653022534234446.post-20777032107817177282010-03-10T13:47:00.000-05:002010-03-20T13:59:02.851-04:00Retro Burgercraft: It’s no fiction, Five Guys satisfies<b></b> <br />
<div><img align="left" alt="" src="http://www2.coolcleveland.com/images/002010/021010/fiveguys2.jpg" width="250px" /> <b>During the post-holiday</b> season, my neighbor Jenn and I took a work lunch break and headed to Lakewood’s new foodie destination: Five Guys Burgers and Fries. </div><br />
<b>While other Cleveland locations exist</b> (there’s at least six in the area), the Detroit Avenue Culinary Mile, home to numerous and quite diverse dining options, only recently welcomed this Arlington, Virginia sensation.<br />
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Jenn and I found metered parking right in front of the restaurant, a good thing considering the block’s parking lot is behind the building and there’s no backdoor access. Not a big deal in the summer, or for anyone from a high-traffic city, but in the winter, proximity from car door to front door is key.<br />
We walked in and immediately noticed the retro red and white and the long path towards the back of the restaurant, guided by multiple color-coordinated bags and boxes of peanuts and potatoes. Customers can nosh on the peanuts, for free, while waiting for the food to be cooked. We also heard Led Zepplin on the loud speaker, as, we later learned, classic music is the soundtrack of this eatery. Media-bragging signs cover the walls, including WashingtonPost.com proclaiming Five Guys the “Willy Wonkas of Burgercraft.”<br />
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<b>Taking everything in</b>, as we approached the counter, the very nice young man in designer glasses taking our order first asked if we’ve been to a Five Guys before, and, as neither of us had, explained the super short menu: Burgers (regular), Burgers (small), Kosher-style hot dogs, fries and drinks (pop and water). To my disappointment, no milkshakes. What would Vincent Vega do? The cashier continued, “The regular burger has two patties, while the small burger has one. I’d recommend each of you order the small. Also, pick any toppings you’d like, they are all free.” Decisions, decisions. Following his recommendation, Jenn and I each ordered a regular cheeseburger, a soft drink and one cup of fries to share.<br />
<img align="left" alt="" height="320" src="http://www2.coolcleveland.com/images/002010/021010/fiveguys1.jpg" width="244" /> <b> </b><br />
<b>With Santana serenading us</b>, Jenn and I sat down and, while waiting for the food to arrive, began to observe the place and its customers: Five Guys doesn’t really feel like a diner, nor like that other burger chain with red as its primary color. Five Guys resonates the atmosphere of a place one could stop and eat at on a long cross-country road trip. (That is, before the highway service stops all began to look alike and offer the same contractual chain food “options.”)<br />
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Casual bleached wood dining furniture fills up the new space and plenty of seating exists for the rotating crowd: white and blue collar, older, kids with parents and everyone in between. Like characters in a movie, literally anyone could walk into this place, looking for something old or something new, or, just passing through.<br />
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One of the servers brought out our order and, though we’d be eating “in,” the food came out in bags and not on trays. Personally, I prefer a little more substance between my food and the table it’s on. Jenn and I eagerly opened our bags and took out our meals. But, before we dug in, I noticed a piece of bacon sticking out of my burger. To quote Jules Winnfield, the Pulp Fiction religiously righteous assassin, played perfectly by Samuel Jackson, “I don’t dig on swine.”<br />
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<b>Thus, I quietly took out</b> the pork strips before taking my first bite. The burgers were very juicy and the buns: fresh and soft. But the winner in our lunch ensemble was the French fries. While so many other chains have messed around with the oil on their fries so much that one never knows what to expect when heading into a familiar location, I now vote that all potato, moving forward, be cooked in peanut oil. These are, quite possibly, the best French fries I’ve ever had.<br />
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After emptying our soft drinks, and realizing we still had half a serving of these incredible morsels left in the bag, I refilled our beverages at the self-serve fountain and returned to our table, when Jenn and I noticed some of the staff seated in front of black mini-laptops with light reflecting in the readers’ eyes, all focused on company training. What are the laptops saying? What’s inside? We may never know.<br />
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<b>On the company website</b>, one of the reviews, from The Virginian-Pilot, headlines “Get a tasty burger at Five Guys Burgers and Fries.” Tasty burger. The only time I’ve ever heard that combination of words was in <i>Pulp Fiction,</i> when Jules, along with partner in crime Vincent Vega (John Travolta), breaks into a college student’s apartment, only to take his lunch, amongst other things, away from him. Between the classic rock music, the road-trip like atmosphere and the very tasty burgers, even righteous Jules would be satisfied at Five Guys. For hours and a location near you, visit <b><a href="http://www.fiveguys.com/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">http://www.FiveGuys.com</a></b>.<br />
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Reprinted with permission from <a href="http://www.coolcleveland.com/home/">http://www.coolcleveland.com/home/</a>Alexsandra Sukhoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09155564677578333591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039653022534234446.post-60480605432605597812010-03-08T10:25:00.001-05:002010-03-08T10:26:34.796-05:00Pasta, Pasta, PastaThe comfort of staple foods plays a big part in why I cook and what I choose to put on my menu. There is a rich history in grains of rice, beans, potatoes and breads. These foods make me think of the countries and cultures that have subsisted on them for centuries on one hand, and about how my family has lived on them with the other hand. Few foods provide a more dramatic culinary springboard than pasta. For the first 30 years of my life, my lens of italian-based foods were based on pasta. Fortunately, frequent exposure to eastern rice noodles and other cultures has really shown how this staple can be so diversely used.<br />
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Over the last few months, I have been learning more and more about these staples. I have baked most of my own bread over the last three months and have really enjoyed the process and the results. Frankly, the idea of making my own pasta was a little intimidating. How can such an important food be only two ingredients (flour and eggs)? There must be really something to it.<br />
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Recently, however, I read a great book that prompted me to gather up my courage. The book is called, "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/School-Essential-Ingredients-Erica-Bauermeister/dp/0425232093/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1268061049&sr=8-1">The School of Essential Ingredients</a>." It is written artfully by Erica Bauermeister. There are few things that I love more than when a good book provides me with insight. This is such a book. It reminds me to s-l-o-w d-o-w-n and enjoy the process. As a wise person told me this last week, "How can we be happy, when we are not even present?" Pasta really brings me into the present and helps me let loose of my constant forward focus. I think that is part of what has really drawn me to making bread and pasta recently. The process forces you to be present and the creation of something so fulfilling brings me great joy. Often, when I create, I miss the experience of joy that comes with it because I am not present - I am already on to the next thing. <br />
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I haven't tried my pasta yet. I made lasagna noodles and cooked it up last last night. It was a bit of work, but I really enjoyed it. In the spirit of Lillian's kitchen from this great book, here is the recipe for making pasta:<br />
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<b>Homemade Pasta</b><br />
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Ingredients:<br />
Two Handfuls of Flour<br />
Three Eggs<br />
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Softly plop two handfuls of flour onto a counter and make a hole in the middle with your fingers so that it looks like a volcano. Break the eggs into the middle of the volcano. With a fork beat the eggs together to break the yolk and slowly start to absorb the flour into the eggs until it is fully absorbed. If the dough becomes sticky, add more flour. If the dough becomes crumbly, add water a little bit at a time. Knead for 20 minutes until the dough becomes silky and springy. Break into four balls and set on the counter. Cover with an inverted bowl and let rest for one hour. <br />
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After an hour, take each ball and roll it out on your counter with a rolling pin until very thin (you know how thin pasta is). Pull and roll, flipping the pasta and rolling consistently. Once the dough is rolled to the right thickness, take a knife or pizza cutter and cut the pasta into the desired shape. Very thin slices for spaghetti, thicker for linguine, really thick for lasagna. After the pasta is cut, let it sit for another hour. Then use however you would use pasta (boil, etc.)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039653022534234446.post-19337406874483089852010-02-08T12:35:00.001-05:002010-03-20T14:19:05.451-04:00The Primal Urge for Simple Food: B Spot Transports<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDh3cBrIOwbpmoDswSbUgg9xTC7h0MDuySXfYmEl1FUZB_aJmgsf1_0QqLamOEt8Wp9d1w2FDwzw6Kzfv2tHyOX4H7fNZckl4jceN6s0C5Ncl1X-l0Q9-ff7uSER6lGhCAxdxUy-6JJJ8/s1600-h/BSpot+Front+Door.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDh3cBrIOwbpmoDswSbUgg9xTC7h0MDuySXfYmEl1FUZB_aJmgsf1_0QqLamOEt8Wp9d1w2FDwzw6Kzfv2tHyOX4H7fNZckl4jceN6s0C5Ncl1X-l0Q9-ff7uSER6lGhCAxdxUy-6JJJ8/s320/BSpot+Front+Door.jpg" /></a>If you live in the Cleveland area and haven’t heard of chef extraordinaire Michael Symon, then you either don’t watch tv, don’t eat or don’t have friends who do either. Currently working the media circuit to support his new book “Live to Cook,” Symon is everywhere and his physical presence in this town has expanded, once again.<br />
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Michael recently opened B Spot, a burger and beer place in Eton Center, on Cleveland’s East Side. A very different restaurant concept from East 4th Street’s Lola or Tremont’s Lolita, B Spot caters to the Midwesterner’s hearty appetite for simple food – food that requires no explanation because our evolved gastronomical palettes sometimes crave the delicious and satisfying basics that we consumed as children.<br />
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I met television chef Anthony Bourdain at a conference I attended in South Beach a few years ago. According to Anthony, “The tipping point in the American palette was when Americans wanted to eat sushi…Suddenly a white fried fillet was not the only acceptable way to eat fish.” Over the past twenty years, our insatiable and often competitive craving for the exotic has overarched our love for the Great American Meal: burgers and fries. And today, when life is complicated, the primal urge for simple food seems, well, almost evolutionary.<br />
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My friend Sara and I made plans to meet at Eton at 1:30, on December 26, the day after Christmas - a day that’s not immune to its own cyclical chaos. As I pulled into the parking lot, around 1:15, I spotted Sara pulling out, so I honked my horn. She saw me, rolled down the window and said she would park on the other side of Chagrin, as the lot was packed. Given current economic times, a packed shopping center in Northeast Ohio is an excellent sign. Lucky for me, relying on my Chicago parking skills, I found a spot, right in front of B Spot.<br />
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We met inside the restaurant, which, at 1:20 on a Saturday afternoon was quite crowded - another excellent consumer spending sign. We put our names down and were told by the courteous staff, all wearing B Spot t-shirts, that the wait would be 40 – 45 minutes. Sara and I left, perused the mall – the indoor shops and the ones with outdoor entrances, also all jammed with consumers looking for deals - and then returned to be seated at the available table.<br />
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B Spot décor is comprised of dark colors – browns, blacks, grays and metallics – and there’s a hustle-and-bustle energy amongst the crew. The atmosphere, including the open kitchen, is informal, and the details create a unique garage-like feel: imagine an industrial lodge during a busy ski season. There’s definitely “green” attention given to the place and the mixed use of metals and woods throughout the restaurant provides a distinct canvas to everything including the silver painted antler chandelier, the closed garage door stretching from the roof to the window wall and the disassembled, re-adhered and monochromed Harley motorcycle suspended right above B Spot’s cozy bar. Symon’s personal stamp is present everywhere.<br />
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A few minutes after Sara and I sat down, the server came over to our table, brought the menus and entered our drink selections into an efficient PDA device, one more green step in the ever-changing restaurant scene. The menu’s basic category offerings – Bar Snacks and Sides, Big Salads, Burgers, Bologna and Other, Bratwurst and Bad **s Milkshakes - helped calm the decision–making skills our brains use with far more complex choices at the local coffee place. However, it’s the beer menu that requires deep hops knowledge: it lists approximately 50 different options. Chances are, if beer is your thing, you will find something here.<br />
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Sara, a vegetarian, opted for the Tomato Blue Cheese Soup ($4) and for The Simple Salad ($4). I went basic: cheeseburger ($6), medium, with American cheese and an order of Lola Fries ($3), which, like many of menu items, are cooked in lard; they are not for vegans, vegetarians nor those who adhere to strict/religious dietary laws. Sara and I also ordered chocolate milkshakes ($5), which came out quickly and, sipped or gulped through the thick straw, immediately take you back to some happy childhood experience. Milkshakes are Pavlovian and the rich flavor and thick consistency of the B Spot shakes make all of life’s troubles, even if briefly, magically disappear.<br />
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There are other small details in this new East Side restaurant that make things just a little more special: in the middle of the crowded space is a condiment bar, thus, if you crave more pickles, take as many as you want. For the napkin-o-holics needing a frequent fix, a vertical metal pipe stands on each table, holding a roll of eco-friendly brown paper towels. And, speaking of fixings, a metal tray containing eight different bottled sauces, from regular ketchup and stadium mustard to Lola’s Ketchup and even Coffee BBQ Sauce are also provided to customize your meal to your liking.<br />
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As evident by the crowd on a late weekend afternoon, people like B Spot a lot. Luckily, there’s seating expansion into the inside mall and, in kinder climate, the garage door will open to an outdoor deck. Personally, I can’t wait for that summer outing where, sitting outside on a sunny warm Cleveland afternoon, I’ll be sipping my milkshake, eating my burger and enjoying adult escapism, all at the B Spot.<br />
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For location and hours: http://www.bspotburgers.com/<br />
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Reprinted with permission from <a href="http://www.coolcleveland.com/home/">http://www.coolcleveland.com/home/</a>Alexsandra Sukhoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09155564677578333591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039653022534234446.post-74590319954547381822009-12-29T08:29:00.002-05:002009-12-29T09:02:20.036-05:00Adventures in MoleThere are a lot of great food traditions in a lot of different cultures, but few have captured my imagination like Mexican Mole sauce. (Pronounced mo - lay). I first experienced great mole sauce in Chicago at a little place on North Clark called "<a href="http://www.elnuevomexicano.net/">Nuevo Mexicano</a>". Their mole was second only to their margaritas and I am sure that one only made the other that much better. I never thought much about making this interesting sauce until I left Chicago. After all, why make it when I could go get it and the whole great experience I had around this sauce and restaurant? It's my treat. I currently have the same thinking around Chicken Makhani. Why make it when I can get orgasmic Makhani at "<a href="http://www.thaliofindia.com/">Thali of India</a>" right here in Rochester? Besides, each of these foods take some real effort.<div><br /></div><div>So a few years ago, I started dipping into making a mole sauce. It is interesting to find that there as many varieties of mole sauces as there are Mexican grandmothers. The core is pretty much the same - peppers and a sweetener, often in the form of chocolate. After a couple of different varieties, I have settled currently into one that is in a <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Whats-Cooking-Mexican-Marlene-Spieler/dp/1571452532">Mexican cookbook by Marlena Spiele</a>r. Here is what it says <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; ">(Instructions in bold are my additions):</span></div><div><br /></div><div>---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</div><div><b>MOLE POBLANO</b></div><div><br /></div><div><b>Ingredients:</b></div><div>3 Fresh Mulato Peppers <b>(I think peppers can be varied to some degree)</b></div><div>3 Fresh Mild Ancho Chiles</div><div>5-6 Frech Anaheim Chiles</div><div>1 Onion, Chopped</div><div>5 Garlic Cloves, Chopped</div><div>1 lb ripe Tomatoes</div><div>2 Corn tortillas, preferable stale, cut into small pieces</div><div>pinch of cloves</div><div>pinch of fennel seeds</div><div>1/8 tsp each of Ground Cinnamon, Coriander and cumin</div><div>3 Tbsp lightly toasted Sesame seeds or tahini</div><div>3 Tbsp. flaked or coarsely ground blanched almonds </div><div>2 Tbsp. raisins</div><div>1 Tbsp, Peanut butter (Optional)</div><div>2 Cu. Chicken Stock</div><div>3-4 Tbsp. Grated Unsweetened Chocolate <b>(Hershey's Cocoa Powder)</b></div><div>2 Tbsp. Mild Chili Powder</div><div>3 Tbsp. Vegetable Oil</div><div>1 Tbsp. Lime Juice</div><div>Salt and Black Pepper</div><div><br /></div><div>Directions: </div><div><b>1. </b> Using Metal tongs, toast each chili over an open flame for a few seconds until the color darkens. Alternatively, roast in an ungreased frying pan over a medium heat, turning constantly for about 30 seconds.</div><div><b>2.</b> Place the toasted chilies in a bowl or a pan and pour boiling water over to cover. Cover with a lid and leave to soften for at least one hour or overnight. Once or twice lift the lid and rearrange the chilies so that they soak evenly. <b>(Make sure to turn off the heat when you add the water).</b></div><div><b>3.</b> Remove the softened chilies with a slotted spoon. Discard the stems and the seeds and cut the flesh into pieces. Place in a blender. <b>(Do a quick blend)</b></div><div><b>4.</b> Add the onion, garlic, tomatoes, tortillas, cloves, fennel seeds, cinnamon, coriander, cumin, sesame seeds, almonds, raisins and peanut butter if using, then process to combine. With the motor running, add enough stock through the feed tube to make a smooth paste. Stir in the remaining stock, chocolate, and chili powder.</div><div><b>5.</b> Heat the oil in a heavy based pan until it is smoking, then pour in the mole mixture. It will sputter and pop as it hits the oil. Cook for about 10 minutes, stirring occassionally to prevent it from burning. Season with salt, pepper, and lime juice, and serve.</div><div><br /></div><div>------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</div><div><br /></div><div>I rolled these with cheese into some corn tortillas and baked them in the sauce for 20 minutes at 375F. I would love to spend an afternoon with a real abuela and see how this sauce was made before the age of blenders. There must have been a lot of soaking and hand mashing involved. What struck me in making this great dish is the fact that I already had every ingredient in my kitchen sans the corn tortillas. They are pretty much all the same ingredients I use to make Thai food. Go figure...</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039653022534234446.post-50403378417280104102009-12-15T21:47:00.001-05:002009-12-15T21:52:19.585-05:00The Gefilte Fish<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">by Elizabeth Cherny</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">This story begins right before Rosh Hashana - the Jewish New Year. It’s the generational story of a family tradition that was started by my late grandmother and was continued by my mom until she, too, had passed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">It was the first year without my mom, and for me it was the time to face the reality and to make the decision: to keep the tradition alive, let it go, or just make a dinner to bring family together?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I was on the phone with Bella, a friend of mine for twenty years. We first met when we just arrived as refugees to this country, with four hundred dollars in our pocket and without knowing what will happen to us next. The time and life that we all shared in the suburbs of Chicago made us more than just friends; we became a family. Our children, not even us, made such a strong statement.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">With the holidays around the corner, Bella and I were talking about what we will make for the dinner.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I don’t remember who asked first about gefilte fish, a very important dish that has to be served at such a time and, without it, it would be not considered a Jewish holiday dinner.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">These days when everybody is busy, you can buy the fish ready to serve. You can order it with delivery an hour before the dinner and it would be okay. But, when the woman of the house makes the fish at home, only then is the meal considered to be a holiday dinner! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The fish, the gefilte fish, becomes the center of attention, the subject of the conversation, a main dish, no matter what else would be served that evening.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">There we were, two friends, two women who grew up by traditions with traditions, talking about holidays and talking about gefilte fish. Who asked whom first and who said next, I don’t remember but it was close to this:</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“Bella, what would we do with the fish?”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“I thought about it, but I don’t know, yet. Do you know how to make it?”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“I think, if I would start making it, I would remember. I didn’t do it for a long time but I can try,” I said, not even thinking where it will bring me and us. “Do you know how to make it?”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“Well, when my mom used to make the fish I tried to be there, some place around, mostly in her way, so mom would look at me and say, ‘Please, Bella, do me a favor just go and do what ever you want to do, don’t try to help me. I am fine to be here by myself. I can still take care of this. Your time will come, don’t worry!’ So, I would happily leave, but I saw what she did and some of it I do remember…Lily, what, if we tried to make the fish together?” she asked me. “You remember some and I remember what I saw. Let’s do it?”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“You’re serious, aren’t you?” I asked my friend.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“Yes, I am. What do we have to lose? We will spend time together and, who knows? Maybe between the two of us, we would remember and we would have our gefilte fish on the table.”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“Well,” I said, “let’s do it. I still have pots and pans for all of this. In some of them, my grandma used to cook and we called them ‘The Golden Pots.’ They are from my old home.”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“We can’t use your stuff,” quietly said my friend. “I am sorry, but we can’t. They are not kosher.”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">For a brief moment, I was so excited that I forgot that my friend keeps kosher and you can’t mix and use anything that is not kosher in the house.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“Well, what can we do?” I asked her with the all excitement gone. “Too bad, my friend, that you don’t have pots to cook the fish.”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“I have. I do have the pots in which my mom made the fish.”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“Great, so what is the problem? We will use yours. What the difference?”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“We can’t use them, either” Bella replied in a very apologetic voice.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“Why not?” I asked her, not understanding what she is talking about.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“They are not kosher, either,” she answered quietly.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“What?” I think that as much as my friend’s voice was quiet, mine was loud. “What?” I repeated myself. “You are telling me that your mom’s pots, where she cooked the fish for all the holidays through all the years, are not kosher? Bella, what then is kosher, if not your mom’s pots and pans?”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“Please,” said my friend, “don’t be so upset with me! I know. I know, I understand why you are so upset, but I can’t use them because they are not kosher.”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Well. I couldn’t stop, so upset I was with such a statement. I knew her mother. I knew the woman whose life was nothing but devotion to my friend and to her family, whose love was so unconditional that to me refusing her pots was an insult to her life.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“Well, my friend, let me tell you,” I said in the same very upset and loud voice, “you had better go to your <i>shul</i> and talk to your Rabbi. Go and tell him how upset I am and ask him what else can be more kosher in life than pots where your mom, your Jewish mom, in the best meaning of the world, cooked gefilte fish.”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“Ok, I will do it.”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“Promise?”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“Yes, I promise you.”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The time passed by and in two weeks Bella called.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“I have the news for you,” she said as she started laughing. “We have kosher pots and pans for the fish!”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“What do you mean by this?” I asked.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“Well,” she continued to smile and started telling the story. “I did go to the Rabbi and told him about our conversation. He listened to me and then he said that the pots we brought from the old country are made from such material that it is almost impossible to bring them to the cleaning condition so that they can be called kosher. But, he promised to talk to another Rabbi who may have a solution. So he called in a few days and said that another Rabbi cannot also make such a decision and <i>that</i> Rabbi needs to talk to somebody else. I don’t want to make up or to say more than I know,” she continued the story, “but I think the question was brought to the Rabbi from the Rabbinical Court. Well, they told me that, considering the circumstances and my wish, they can make a special cleaning for these pots and pans and they can make them kosher.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">My friend was happy and continued laughing telling me the ordeal it was to make it happen. I was listening to my friend, holding tears and thinking about life at large, about all the twists and changes we went through. The gefilte fish that was made by our grandmas in the old country and our moms coming to a different continent and bringing the pots and pans for the special cooked fish, the gefilte fish.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I thought of the tradition that was kept by our ancestors in the country where everything and anything Jewish was forbidden. I thought how they kept it all and without words and explanations, taught us something very special: to keep the tradition alive, no matter where the destiny will bring our families and us.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I thought what our moms would say. Would they smile, or just quietly shake their heads? Our moms, who were watching and listening to us from above. So, we cooked! We cooked gefilte fish the way it was made centuries ago, the way it was made in our homes, and the way we saw and remembered.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">In my friend’s large, brand new kitchen that was built before the holidays and was expected and blessed as a kosher, on the new stove in all its’ shining glory, was standing an old, big pot full of gefilte fish - the same pot that was brought from the old country and in which my friend’s mother used to cook the fish before this special day! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The most kosher pot in the world!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">When holiday came and our families and children were sitting at the table, we told them this story: the story of memories, the story of love and the story of a tradition we all wish and hope they will continue after us.</span>Alexsandra Sukhoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09155564677578333591noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039653022534234446.post-1039078832230824012009-12-15T15:37:00.003-05:002009-12-15T16:02:10.155-05:00The memory of scentI love how a random aroma can transport me back to another time. When I <a href="http://http//laughingatchaos.com/2008/04/15/my-home-away-from-home/">first walked into my new local library</a>, it was as though I had entered my beloved library back home. The scent of old books and papers...nothing like it. There's only one aroma in my house that does that for me, every single time.<br /><br />Sesame oil.<br /><br />When I pop open the bottle, I <em>must</em> put my nose right up to the spout and take a deep, lung-filling whiff. That's always followed up by a quiet smile, as the memories come flooding back. When I was about eight, my oldest son's age, my dad took up Chinese cooking as a hobby. We lived in an old <a href="http://http//architecture.about.com/od/housestyles/ig/Bungalow-Pictures/Chicago-Bungalow.htm">Chicago Bungalow</a>, and in the unfinished basement there was a tiny little gas stove. He would cook down there, keeping the heat and oil splatters out of our miniscule kitchen...and ensuring that little kids didn't get underfoot and burned. Once he mastered complex stir-fries, he moved on to our favorite, Hot and Sour Soup. He perfected a recipe that included a drizzle of sesame oil on top, the heat releasing its nutty scent.<br /><br />It brings back the memory of being young and carefree and happy, with a dad who loved to experiment in the kitchen and share that with his family. We had delicious food, and dinners around the table, and leftovers I'd have for breakfast in the morning. No, really, I did. My sons don't get it either. It brings back the memory of recreating my dad's Hot and Sour Soup recipe in college, going to the only Oriental grocery store in Normal, Illinois to get the precious ingredients. Filling my pit of an apartment with the warm aromas of soup and sesame oil.<br /><br />With one whiff, the scent of sesame oil transports me back to all those times. Better than any time machine.Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06600711458051601834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039653022534234446.post-86942326825002558262009-12-01T11:40:00.001-05:002009-12-01T11:43:46.459-05:00Lamb Meatballs and seafood<p>So I decided to do something new and different for dinner. I took some spices; smoked paprika, ground ginger, cumin, fennel seeds, garlic and a few other things, mixed it into the ground lamb and made small little balls. Added that into a crock pot with hot olive oil, garlic, onions and mushrooms. Let that cook for about 10 minutes. Then added some chimichuri sauce; I know, a bit of the Latin flavor. After another 10 min added the shrimp, and calamari with some dried up rosemary. Cooked that for 10 more min and done.</p> <p>It was actually pretty good. Had some rice on the side. The only thing I would do is add some tomato paste and a touch of cinnamon into the meatballs to give it a little extra.</p>Steve Zakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06063686192380463757noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039653022534234446.post-76734272248992421802009-11-20T22:57:00.026-05:002009-11-21T03:40:10.726-05:00Sometimes staying in is better then going out!We had guests over on Saturday the 7th and I made some sushi. My daughter took the pictures until she got sick with a temperature and fell a sleep. So here is what we got...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNproSG5UcOYv_v3X6tOw65czB9Tsv8U_95HrRRtKjs9obcIykkuwx0DH0eMhiciZ8tKjXGIuQt4GJJ2e9xTNy0VmcK0b3Lky5JEJykLI3tgnBXjfkNmbFy7l-E04uXEYZmLPR2oV21Kk/s1600/IMG_0016.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNproSG5UcOYv_v3X6tOw65czB9Tsv8U_95HrRRtKjs9obcIykkuwx0DH0eMhiciZ8tKjXGIuQt4GJJ2e9xTNy0VmcK0b3Lky5JEJykLI3tgnBXjfkNmbFy7l-E04uXEYZmLPR2oV21Kk/s320/IMG_0016.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406413276254474466" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Start with rice,<br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQrbJbVCflY2BsVq3SWnXBa0pX2GgCgjs5ZBt_QTcEAysfNFWTtKmNhJo24K2kPXQDgwZGdX6Jui1iJuda26a9shA2ABADNh3D4RuXUbbEYHLtgd5VWpZcoqc101fKbFOBB4ONeEreyFk/s1600/IMG_0013.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQrbJbVCflY2BsVq3SWnXBa0pX2GgCgjs5ZBt_QTcEAysfNFWTtKmNhJo24K2kPXQDgwZGdX6Jui1iJuda26a9shA2ABADNh3D4RuXUbbEYHLtgd5VWpZcoqc101fKbFOBB4ONeEreyFk/s320/IMG_0013.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406411635341485858" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">then yellowtail, salmon, tuna, cucumber, avocado,<br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOgMTN8-sPtPew8zUygs8RpFz-w1-9gCi1UoZT7uSS7FTEJnKemNapc1yQDeRHiDQncCn77wfu5n0GBFjw-QZazMxSjMB-hOU7CamTb0hJNSPBqPL78gtMUs36xggVNeVi2J1Gv6e56Os/s1600/IMG_0017.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOgMTN8-sPtPew8zUygs8RpFz-w1-9gCi1UoZT7uSS7FTEJnKemNapc1yQDeRHiDQncCn77wfu5n0GBFjw-QZazMxSjMB-hOU7CamTb0hJNSPBqPL78gtMUs36xggVNeVi2J1Gv6e56Os/s200/IMG_0017.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406417444973596418" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">tempura shrimp,<br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP45gB9Mid1tLiApveP2Ec-lK5CSIFYNZ-q8kzkkzfMpV84-s16VoqKXRX_37TbgyGxYpxGpT6iONOmvEhD1ec3pS8h-6uRIFJ-cxmvD9Ecd3mN4lvMzBxQvFdajHIC9TIOgp8sMymhmQ/s1600/IMG_0031.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP45gB9Mid1tLiApveP2Ec-lK5CSIFYNZ-q8kzkkzfMpV84-s16VoqKXRX_37TbgyGxYpxGpT6iONOmvEhD1ec3pS8h-6uRIFJ-cxmvD9Ecd3mN4lvMzBxQvFdajHIC9TIOgp8sMymhmQ/s200/IMG_0031.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406418095517668802" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">eel, crab,<br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrXVSQjGJwZqgq5rg9tB0owN6CRnkl50xJMcMUK9ngcbBFvzGOUK3VB8Biilo8m7O8rljJmF29Gu4zFK2wZxZ_Gtv37ndqiHks6kQUqhFLc89c99HOQZkBe3T8t1NSiztHDH0ZWUhDcww/s1600/IMG_0032.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrXVSQjGJwZqgq5rg9tB0owN6CRnkl50xJMcMUK9ngcbBFvzGOUK3VB8Biilo8m7O8rljJmF29Gu4zFK2wZxZ_Gtv37ndqiHks6kQUqhFLc89c99HOQZkBe3T8t1NSiztHDH0ZWUhDcww/s200/IMG_0032.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406418495224198514" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">red and green caviar,<br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvWl0XVx9Qta-SqkU_83mjwpysEkmestl1TtxA3e3n95MSgHRPhNgXsEOL7Aim0I5NaXql9la9OrOGRJF7xOtA0cM_-v2hmtfub01KCWRMvkVu5cq8-FCi7CRVE8tXp2Zw_b9tWutU4qo/s1600/IMG_0018.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvWl0XVx9Qta-SqkU_83mjwpysEkmestl1TtxA3e3n95MSgHRPhNgXsEOL7Aim0I5NaXql9la9OrOGRJF7xOtA0cM_-v2hmtfub01KCWRMvkVu5cq8-FCi7CRVE8tXp2Zw_b9tWutU4qo/s200/IMG_0018.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406418945988407042" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">and most importantly spicy mayo...<br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW6_-QEsd3EWSbC5sM_hbUCiEVQq9UCeB8G0YK24BteoMWv35FIXr7xYgkeNkAyAS6ywRSYCZ3oxqBbTMNZnhu5sK3hAxGiQVCfyiT8lVz5a0M7LT5wtONvz8Sg8aRJ-NdF_mWtma66vg/s1600/IMG_0025.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW6_-QEsd3EWSbC5sM_hbUCiEVQq9UCeB8G0YK24BteoMWv35FIXr7xYgkeNkAyAS6ywRSYCZ3oxqBbTMNZnhu5sK3hAxGiQVCfyiT8lVz5a0M7LT5wtONvz8Sg8aRJ-NdF_mWtma66vg/s200/IMG_0025.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406419526506598466" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Roll it...<br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br />and then you get these...<br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjII4SBbYBzZzxUdiEq93EFU5MBEgxxSRPkxYejBwWmx2ihX-_d5CBhP70pHebAflKMHR-Mv8oBG1E11oO4uZ20YmU_A0MgRElyXN1SKwgUmi82NkxO7TL413GmlLiPTnkWwG1enWq_Q_I/s1600/IMG_0035.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjII4SBbYBzZzxUdiEq93EFU5MBEgxxSRPkxYejBwWmx2ihX-_d5CBhP70pHebAflKMHR-Mv8oBG1E11oO4uZ20YmU_A0MgRElyXN1SKwgUmi82NkxO7TL413GmlLiPTnkWwG1enWq_Q_I/s200/IMG_0035.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406420374729555458" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">and also these...<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUz3_piSMc9E57QeLEv1o4B_E5oHljwU8am7M9qOUv4QGSHOWK2ZKFv5jWfWyIc-2omSmaQi5LNPabWBQWsfkauvsNMV5SlwS32nk4bHU-2hTMcolqONLYrA7se4GTFB2rwRQnOakkTjc/s1600/IMG_0045.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUz3_piSMc9E57QeLEv1o4B_E5oHljwU8am7M9qOUv4QGSHOWK2ZKFv5jWfWyIc-2omSmaQi5LNPabWBQWsfkauvsNMV5SlwS32nk4bHU-2hTMcolqONLYrA7se4GTFB2rwRQnOakkTjc/s200/IMG_0045.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406421361828036850" border="0" /></a>Unfortunately, I don't have pictures of the whole feast, because as I said the photographer got sick, but she did wake up for the most important part -- Four hours, 15 rolls, 120 pieces of sushi later... It was probably too much, but I did enjoy making it, and it seemed everyone loved eating it... It beats going out anytime!MnMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17496716112246224959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039653022534234446.post-41578795626111558512009-11-20T15:15:00.006-05:002009-11-20T17:02:04.525-05:00Bird Bird Bird, the Bird is the WordT-minus six days to my very favorite holiday, the one that recognizes gratitude with a roasted flightless bird. Granted, between me and that day there is a 14 hour drive to Iowa from Colorado, but that's what ya gotta do. I <em>love</em> Thanksgiving. I love that it hasn't been commercialized, I love that there's a parade and my husband and I can critique the bands (once a band director, always a band director), I love that it's a holiday <em>that has a day following it simply for recovery</em>. My kind of day.<br /><br />Funny thing, though, is that I don't like to cook. Sigh.... Yes, it's true. My name is Jen, I contribute to two different food-related blogs, and I don't like to cook. Eat, yes. Cook, not so much. But Thanksgiving is different. I have the whole day, in fact several days, to prepare food. I'm not the only one cooking. And if it doesn't turn out, I can drown it all in gravy and everyone's happy. And if the gravy is lumpy, then let them all eat pie! Pecan. Hot. With ice cream.<br /><br />It got tougher last year when it was the first Thanksgiving that I had to eat gluten-free. My husband's world famous stuffing suffered mightily from the terrible gluten-free bread we used. I wept, for I usually want to bathe in that stuffing it's so good. We tried again at Christmas and it was a little better, but not much. I have high hopes for this year since finding a wonderful bread mix (<a href="http://www.bobsredmill.com/gf-homemade-wonderful-bread.html">Bob's Red Mill</a>, I love you. Mwah!).<br /><br />We have a few traditional foods, but not many. The bird. Stuffing. Cranberry sauce, the kind with the lines (for easy slicing, right?) AND homemade. Apple salad...yes, it's healthy on this day even though it's covered in Cool Whip. Sweet potatoes. Pie. My husband <em>must</em> have his spiced apple rings or the day is a depressing failure. Anything else for the groaning table varies depending on what recipes caught our eye that year. And everything must be gluten-free.<br /><br />Parade, lounging around in yoga pants all day, mouth-watering aromas from the kitchen, the gleeful voices of cousins pounding on one another...<em>this</em> is Thanksgiving.<br /><br />Even if I do have to cook.Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06600711458051601834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039653022534234446.post-22197250885230732352009-11-20T07:36:00.005-05:002009-11-20T08:07:03.260-05:00Le Menu - Bon Appetit!Occassionally, dinner guests come into my kitchen and spy the weekly menu posted on the white board hanging there. Typical reactions:<br /><div><div><div></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhOeVRriyK72XDrwHoJ6qby6hnHkZeORz3NVUTd_6nPD5pn-thUX0MZgP-uEi5GtEmBjeoNVwKOvZs6CMcLngXDngWl3g7Zbs0O2Toba0L9E3UX8AD5JLcJGC7q_UXHkGjil5-ZJCXcROw/s1600/IMG00110.jpg"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVFD0XA05lW3T7AgAsp_v5tf-GDszO9fGecARfrJBY27iOMxyoeDdYWcPXsV1sJnkzmnLZsq5AqjuN1Z8tFdV7haM-7E05OhK8iniIV35dmXsZf6u0uRRheOfY6nmQQp-iIPGypZeXcjL0/s1600/IMG00110.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406171368182135730" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVFD0XA05lW3T7AgAsp_v5tf-GDszO9fGecARfrJBY27iOMxyoeDdYWcPXsV1sJnkzmnLZsq5AqjuN1Z8tFdV7haM-7E05OhK8iniIV35dmXsZf6u0uRRheOfY6nmQQp-iIPGypZeXcjL0/s400/IMG00110.jpg" /></a>"Wow!"</div><div>"You are too organized!"</div><div>"You have a planned weekly menu? OCD?"</div><div>"Control Freak!"</div><div>"Weirdo!"</div><div></div><br /><div>So maybe the last two are my interpretation of their reactions, but it often comes across that having a menu is a novel idea. But I am here to tell you, it is one of the best things we do at our house. We are a bit loose about the schedule of it, and some weeks we don't do it at all. That's ok. Often on a Friday night over take-out or on a Saturday morning, my wife and I will pore over our cookbooks and recipes and create the menu. </div><div></div><br /><div>Why do we do it? Obviously, good food is important enough to me that I am compelled to write about it, so that 30 minutes of effort taken once per week is compulsory. Some meals can't just be thrown together and, frankly, many of those type of meals aren't that good or good for you. </div><div></div><br /><div>Also, when shopping for groceries, the trip has a newer purpose. I am not picking up our normal list of snacks, we are preparing for shrimp and leek risotto. I am not hobbling together a bunch of ingredients that will sit in my cabinets for months, I am creating an oustanding goulash. </div><div></div><br /><div>Also, in some ways, this weekly menu creation feeds my frugality. The first step we take is to really scan our cabinets for what we have in the house. We try to use items in stock first. Lots of squash? We are planning squash stews and sausage and apple stuffed acorn squash and pumpkin pies. Four of five pounds of sushi rice left? I am planning fried rice or stir fry or some other risotto (Sushi rice makes much better risotto than arborio, by the way). </div><div></div><br /><div>Making a menu helps us make sure that we are eating a balanced diet too. I am a carnivore and my wife is a starchivore. So I make steak every Tuesday night when she's out and she cooks pasta/potatoes every Thursday night when I'm out. We try to limit the number of red meat meals and try to make sure we get enough vegetables at EVERY meal. This just doesn't happen well without planning.</div><br /><div></div><div>Lastly, our menu is a guide and not the law. Despite all of the OCD cracks, it's rare that we make it through the week and follow the menu exactly. It is so nice to come home from work and have some sort of plan for dinner - at least a list of known options. I have all the ingredients because I shopped for them already - with my weekly menu.</div><div></div><br /><div>Despite people thinking that I am crazy, everytime someone looks at our menu at least one item stirs them to come back to our kitchen.</div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039653022534234446.post-68273684869489685042009-11-17T12:58:00.002-05:002009-11-17T13:30:26.206-05:00Really, Real FoodAbout five years ago, I was stretched out on my couch late at night suffering with a bout of insomnia and dozing through several horrid old early 80's movies like they currently show on WGN. As I passed by PBS, I was caught by the image of an old man on tractor in Illinois plowing a flat, empty field. The narrator, son of the tractor-driver, spoke of the hardships of family farming in the midwest during the 70's and 80's. The show was called "<a href="http://www.pbs.org/independentlens/realdirt/film.html">The Real Dirt on Farmer John</a>", the story of the Peterson family and their farm outside of Caledonia. I was riveted by this all-American family story and their struggle with independence and their passion for the land.<br /><div></div><div>As the story turned into the 1990's, what happened next astounded me. Farmer John launched a new business model for his farm, the Community<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv1DpXsZ_Gu4rgVZMSA0mK7EdvU1S9gQM3m4CFp7w-GLnYX-pwT3gPOhEysq1JjqRSx-bj1YnSPTjwxap51HFUPpkF_IhLnePMLVbVMR77zQ6cXWD70BApAAxsuNzwQJiWT7BKHhLuXGB0/s1600/Romaine.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 180px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 152px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405141490101550610" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv1DpXsZ_Gu4rgVZMSA0mK7EdvU1S9gQM3m4CFp7w-GLnYX-pwT3gPOhEysq1JjqRSx-bj1YnSPTjwxap51HFUPpkF_IhLnePMLVbVMR77zQ6cXWD70BApAAxsuNzwQJiWT7BKHhLuXGB0/s400/Romaine.jpg" /></a> Supported Agriculture project (CSA). Basically, John turned his farm into an old-fashioned diversified organic farm, then sold shares of the crops to city folks in advance. Each week, "subscribers" received a bushel share of the crops that ripened during the growing season. Not only did the farm make out, by sharing the risk with the shareholders, but the consumers made out by getting fresh from the farm organic produce cheaper than they could get at the store. The whole idea excited me. </div><br /><div></div><div>For more than two years following the airing of this show, I kept my eyes out for something similar in my area. Then, one day I saw the flier. <a href="http://www.porterfarms.org/">Porter Farms</a> had a CSA that delivered to my area. $350 for 22 weeks of fresh produce - usually around 10 lbs per week. Since then, I have found other types of CSAs including those that produce fruit and some even that provide meats and dairy. Now there is a whole <a href="http://www.localharvest.org/">website </a>devoted to promoting CSAs nationwide.</div><div></div><br /><div>Cheap, fresh produce alone sounds like a great deal, but it is more than that. We get more produce than our family typically eats in a week. So we make it our mission to work it into every meal. Only vegetables that are in season make it into the bag and we find ourselves feeling very connected to the growth cycles of our food in this way. Lettuces early on. Tomatoes in Augus. Squash and Cabbage in the fall. We get a newsletter every week with our food. I learned about the airborne fungus that wiped out cucumber crops across the northeast. I learned how the cold summer we had this year kept tomatoes from ripening and how most of their crop was lost. </div><div></div><br /><div>We are connected to our food in a new way, and in some ways, we are more connected to our earth.</div><br /><div></div><div></div><div>P.S. Earlier this year, I was given a book that really made me think about this idea of supporting local agriculture called <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Deep-Economy-Wealth-Communities-Durable/dp/0805076263">Deep Economy</a> by Bill McKibben. My recommendation is to skip the first chapter entirely. The rest reads like a man's earnest pursuit to find out more about his food chain. I just picked up the more recently released book, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Defense-Food-Eaters-Manifesto/dp/0143114964/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1258482408&sr=1-2">In Defence of Food </a>by Michael Pollan and I am looking forward to checking in regarding this book as well.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039653022534234446.post-50189526828893259212009-11-11T17:25:00.003-05:002009-11-11T17:51:08.992-05:00Grandma Who<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHABpVyQSw14t8aDD0SkdLv_-xZXMIasO6iLelami_zv9MGWUEXqcJKoRRjHoC6neutjmdDETNY6r4LRvwhZmboEskZ214V8K8__4dTV6FdnFSIGMELPsUdTthJnMdY9DFShSONlovFXc/s1600-h/ea.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 122px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHABpVyQSw14t8aDD0SkdLv_-xZXMIasO6iLelami_zv9MGWUEXqcJKoRRjHoC6neutjmdDETNY6r4LRvwhZmboEskZ214V8K8__4dTV6FdnFSIGMELPsUdTthJnMdY9DFShSONlovFXc/s320/ea.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402982338071051202" /></a><br />My fathers mother, Grandma Donahue, that's who! She is the one who instilled in me the love of food. And not just any food — the-made-from-scratch kind of food. I barely remember my Grandmother buying anything in a box or a can. But what I do remember is that anytime Grandma Donahue was around you could bet you were going to learn to cook!<div><br /></div><div>For many years when I was young my grandparents lived in Florida. When we went to visit, we always had homemade pies, fresh fish and papaya juice made from fresh papayas. When my grandfather died in 1971 my grandmother moved back to Youngstown to be near our family. Anytime we spent with Grandma, we spent hours cooking and baking. She spent time teaching us to make chicken broth from a whole chicken (eww!) and some water. While the broth took it's time cooking, we learned to make dough for the homemade egg noodles that went in to the soup. We mixed, rolled, cut and dried all our noodles. If that project was done, we went on to make homemade pizzas. And of course, every meal needed a dessert. We learned to make apple pies and apple dumplings, starting with a good, rolled out homemade crust and filling or rolling it with lots of fresh cut apples, cinnamon, butter and brown sugar. </div><div><br /></div><div>My grandmother also brought her love to cookies in to our home. A great tradition that she started with us at a young age was making sugar cookies. We watched and helped while she made enough dough for all four of us. Each of us was able to roll out our dough and use her tin cookie cutters to create all sorts of shapes: circles, diamonds, snowflakes, a snowman and a gingerbread man. While the cookies waited to go into the oven, you could add your own touches with the green and red sugars. Grandma also made all the homemade frostings for an even extended sugar high! Every holiday, be it Valentines Day, St. Patricks Day, Halloween or Christmas, my girls and I are busy baking some sort of sugar cookie in honor of Grandma Who.</div><div><br /></div>driddlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08090255940894833233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039653022534234446.post-51173653934449079042009-11-11T01:56:00.001-05:002009-11-11T01:58:22.560-05:00The Tamales That BindOne thing about growing up in a traditional Mexican family is that the Mexican family is a matriarchy, despite all the machismo bullshit that characterizes it. Matriarchs run the family and they have a potent arsenal they use to full advantage, food.<br /><br />Food is the heart of the Mexican family and has a mystique all its own. Cooking in a Mexican family is more than an act of feeding the family. Cooking is an expression of love and caring and eating the food is an expression of appreciation. Mexican mothers pour their heart and soul in every meal they create and we know it. If they can’t buy you everything you want, at least you will always have good food made by the hands that love you and with a taste you can’t find anywhere else. The meal is one of those things that bind families together and sharing it as a family is one of those rituals that stitch the family together and embed us with lifelong memories of hearth and home that we struggle to recreate for the rest of our lives.<br /><br />One ritual that stands out above all the others is that of making and eating tamales. Tamales are a traditional celebratory food typically made during the holidays when the whole family gets together. One of the reasons they are used for family celebrations is that they take a long time to make and because you’re feeding a large group with over 100 tamales, you need everyone’s help in making them (typical of Mexican families, women are usually the ones who cook them). The men are left to do man stuff while the children hang out in the kitchen watching the whole thing unfold before them.<br /><br />The family begins gathering the night before when the various matriarchs get together, under the tutelage of the grandmothers, to begin preparation. First there is the masa (or dough) to make, then the filling, then the softening and laying out of the corn husks, then assembling the tamales, then the steaming while other dishes are prepared. In order to have tamales ready for the family to eat on Christmas morning, the process begins the night before and goes on through the whole night.<br /><br />But the process is more than an assembly line. It is the bonding among the women that happens as the art of tamale making is passed from one generation to another. Recipes are passed down, spices are tested for the right flavor, consistency is taught and everything is made by hand, the slow way. In the midst of spending the whole night getting the consistency of the masa just right, the preparation of the meat just right, the salsas to just the right bite and potency, the women share life stories and histories together, motherly advice is passed on, problems are talked through and all the while the women are aware that with their hands they are creating a special meal filled with love and the bonding they are experiencing for the entire family. It’s as if that special cross-generational bond occurring at that moment becomes a secret ingredient in the tamales. You can almost see the passing of the torch from one generation to another occurring as the younger women absorb the knowledge and secrets of the older ones. The children sit by or run around and eagerly try to lend a helping hand (the boy children just try to annoy the girl children who think they are becoming women by helping).<br /><br />As the tamale ingredients are ready to be put together into the finished product, each one is handled with care. Each corn husk must be perfect and free from tears, they are laid out flat and the masa is applied to the inside in even strokes. Every tamale gets a generous portion of filling and sauce spread evenly throughout to make sure that nobody gets an imperfect or unsatisfactory one. They are then perfectly rolled and hand tied with a string and a simple knot. Each one is perfection and carefully and lovingly prepared. At around 3 in the morning, they are arranged standing up in the steamers and left to steam while the women clean up the kitchen and prepare the table for breakfast. The kids have long since pooped out and were put to bed by various women. Now the real talking can begin while they prepare the beans, rice, potatoes, and anything else they need for the morning.<br /><br />In the down time while the tamales steam, the real juicy stuff is talked about. There is a lot of laughing and giggling and one or a few of the ladies will take a quick nap. It’s one of the few times you can see all the women of the family together and exchanging life’s lessons. Grandmothers, aunts, cousins, daughters, wives, from 80 years old to 20 are all there in the kitchen sharing and bonding.<br /><br />All of that bonding is expressed in the tamales. As the men and children wake up or start arriving from their own homes, the sweet and meaty scent of the tamales wafts through the house like an open invitation. Everyone starts gathering in the kitchen, the women are scurrying to get all the plates and glasses and utensils laid out.<br /><br />As the voluminous greetings of the men begin to reverberate through the house, you can almost feel the energy mounting. Everybody is here. The anticipation of the tamales is building. The men have waited months for a tamale occasion and know the women have been working on them through the whole night. Over a hundred tamales, beans, rice, handmade tortillas, potatoes, chiles, red sauce, green sauce, mole sauce, nopales (cactus), and anything else you can think of has been put together while we were all asleep. The women are tired but look none the worse for wear having spent a spiritual night of bonding while creating a meal of love together for the whole family.<br /><br />As the men and the children sit down, we are giddy with anticipation as the women scurry about getting everyone served. Most of them already sampled everything before the men got there so they are not starving like we are. The men relish the attention being given to them by their mothers, their wives, their aunts, their grandmothers, and their nieces. The women are waiting in anticipation for the men to taste their first tamale and exclaim their appreciation with wide eyes and wide smiles.<br /><br />The tamales are not only delicious they are creations of love and effort. The women are seeing the fruit of their labor in the glee and cheerfulness of the entire family gathered together by the tamales. The matriarchs are proud to have passed on their tradition to the mothers of the future and that their families are at that moment bound together by their special talent and the special ingredient, their love for their family. Everyone is aware of the work that went into them and the appreciation is boundless.<br /><br />The men, despite their machismo, know that they are nothing without the women who care for them and can get together to perform such a culinary feat for them for this is a special gift of family that no broken family can recreate. For the young women who learned that night, this is a moment of transcendence from a girl to an accepted equal among the matriarchs. For the children, it’s a special memory of seeing the women of the family work as one proudly through the night, the wisdom of the old passed on, the special bonds shared and seeing the men of the family utterly so appreciative and happy for they know that by eating the tamales they are partaking of the tremendous love and care that was cooked into each and every one of those tamales and because of that love and care, they are the most delicious tamales they have ever had. <br /><br />For that moment, the whole family is one big harmonious loving unit, the warmth is imprinted on every child’s memory, when everyone is happy, laughing, smiling, happy to be together, bound together through the delicious and tender tamales exuding that special ingredient of love and warmth and that the mothers of the family, the matriarchs, are the ones responsible. They are the key to keeping the family together and the tamale is the symbol of the love required to keep the family together. From that point on, eating a tamale alone is almost sacrilegious and doesn’t taste anywhere as good as when the whole family is together under the loving watchful eyes of the matriarchs.<br /><br />And if you do have to eat one alone, the spirit of the matriarchs is always there with you; grandma, momma, and your favorite aunt. Maybe that’s why tamales are the ultimate Mexican comfort food.Bryan Cejahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07085174521750379255noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039653022534234446.post-9512824060926334802009-11-10T23:51:00.008-05:002009-11-11T00:40:04.332-05:00Verve: A New Energy in a Gritty Cleveland Corner<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXvwtbYK31Z_Fw2upX6kj8fhx6D11Z7mn8COW8vUhz-OdwYXAGxk-mNzvQEuu_Y6-1FFuilhwiqsZYNUtFpEcgjCnPylGZ0cGtIguigd0j590mh8YEuJFUoI1bRZsuEqc4gGKefxXUz5Q/s1600-h/cake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXvwtbYK31Z_Fw2upX6kj8fhx6D11Z7mn8COW8vUhz-OdwYXAGxk-mNzvQEuu_Y6-1FFuilhwiqsZYNUtFpEcgjCnPylGZ0cGtIguigd0j590mh8YEuJFUoI1bRZsuEqc4gGKefxXUz5Q/s320/cake.jpg" /></a><br />
</div>One of the things I miss most about living downtown is my leisurely weekend strolls tradition with Sonia: to the lake, near the tulips (w/ Bettina), to Starbuck's or even the time we snuck into the Cleveland Convention Center and explored every corner of that fascinating building. For those who don't know, it was Sonia's invitation to dinner one Spring evening two and a half years ago that led to a walk near the Q the night of the Cavs last game of the playoffs that set off the events for the script. A very talented medical professional, Sonia is a creative at heart and her curious soul has propelled us into all kinds of city adventures - she notices what others don't - and this time it was a new restaurant that opened on the corner of Carnegie and East 14th.<br />
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We wanted to have lunch and initially decided on sushi, but after passing by Verve, tucked away under a large CSU billboard, we, ok, I, took a u-turn in the middle of a four lane street and we parked in the adjacent parking lot. When we entered Verve, we immediately sensed a new energy, an energy that didn't feel very Cleveland. Unlike the social restaurants in the Warehouse District or the commercially successful East 4th Street gastronomic mecca, with its open, industrial and minimalist feel, large windows overlooking busy Carnegie and sophisticated and professionally-dressed customers filling almost every white tablecloth covered table, Verve felt more like it belonged in (dare I say it?) Chicago.<br />
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Sonia and I were seated right away by the nice hostess, who also took my raincoat. Our waiter approached us quickly and provided the menus, that listed items like Verve Fries (hand cut potato with sausage gravy), Roasted Onion and Garlic Soup (w/grilled fontina cheese bread) and City Chicken (crispy pork and applesauce). The restaurant menu is like an album of classic 60's rock songs covered by your favorite 90's bands: you recognize the titles, but Verve puts its own spin on things. <br />
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After Sonia and I ordered soup and a few salads, I excused myself to go to the ladies room. First, I noticed that instead of "men"/"women," the doors were marked with framed photos of gender-appropriate children. Very clever and cute. Once inside, in the mirror I also realized that all this time my sunglasses were on me - not on my head, but on my face. I felt so pretentious and silly and took them off, thinking that, perhaps, the staff was being so super nice to both of us because they thought I was someone far more important than I really am. (It was either the sunglasses or my continuous photo-taking with the iPhone.) But, then, perhaps something about Verve, and the aura of "important discussions happen while people eat our soup" resonated in the subconscious and allowed me to play dress up.<br />
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</div>For dessert, Sonia and I split a slice of a chocolate torte, pictured here. The presentation was wonderful, the texture a little dense, but, then my dear friend and I felt like a little escapism that dreary, late-October Midwestern afternoon and Verve certainly delivered. On an intersection sandwiched between the highway ramp, a busy driving street, a church and a three-story white storage building that, with its gorgeous large window arches, since first moving to Cleveland I've wanted to own and convert into a giant creative loft, this new restaurant is filling a void in a part of town that's just one block away from the country's second biggest theater district. Verve's vitality is just what the doctor ordered. Even Sonia would agree.Alexsandra Sukhoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09155564677578333591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039653022534234446.post-3092643837237272592009-11-10T12:53:00.000-05:002009-11-11T00:38:01.861-05:00More than omelets and teaGo with me here. What's the first thing that pops into your mind when you hear "Denver Cuisine?"<br /><ol><li><a href="http://www.mrbreakfast.com/display.asp?categoryid=1&subcategoryid=1&recipeid=1426">Omelets</a></li><li><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rocky_mountain_oysters">Rocky Mountain Oysters</a></li><li>Denver has cuisine?</li><li>Boy, that<a href="http://www.denverpost.com/ci_13748100"> game last night against the Steelers</a> was brutal!</li></ol>Let's try another one. What's the first thing that pops into your mind when you hear "Boulder Cuisine?"<br /><ol><li>Home of the Vegan Lifestyle<br /></li><li><a href="http://www.celestialseasonings.com/">Tea</a></li><li>Boulder has cuisine? Can <a href="https://www.cu.edu/">college kids</a> <span style="font-style: italic;">afford</span> cuisine?</li><li>Damned pot-smoking dippy hippies, get off the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pearl_Street_Mall">lawn</a>!</li></ol>While some of this is indeed true, trust me when I say I wouldn't be happy living out here if there weren't some tasty places to dine. I grew up outside of Chicago, and my parents' hobby was trying new restaurants. I'd rather go out for a nice dinner with my husband than anything. Unfortunately, we seem to be raising small monkeys instead of young boys, so we don't get out as often as we'd like...but I digress.<br /><br />There are wonderful places in Colorado to eat. I've been out here 12 years now, have had many memorable meals, and not one has included an omelet or deep fried bull testicles. There's <a href="http://www.thefort.com/">The Fort</a> west of Denver, which is <span style="font-style: italic;">the </span>place to take a date...or the in-laws. Fancy-schmancy restaurant, specializing in Old West cuisine, with a killer view of the lights of Denver from the foothills. Is seafood more your thing? Try <a href="http://www.jaxfishhouseboulder.com/">Jax Fish House in Boulder</a> (which <span style="font-style: italic;">will</span> be our next dinner out). What? Seafood in the mountains? Dude, yeah. The kitchen is run by Top Chef Season 5 winner <a href="http://www.bravotv.com/top-chef/bio/hosea">Hosea Rosenberg</a>. There is also a wide variety of little joints beloved by regulars; you need only to ask a local.<br /><br />Now, the question is, "Jen, do you really go out <span style="font-style: italic;">that</span> often?" Nooo...I wish; see aforementioned young monkeys...erm... children. We save dining for adult time, and take full advantage of a fantastic week in February. <a href="http://www.denver.org/denverrestaurant/">Denver Restaurant Week</a> (also known as <span style="font-style: italic;">cheap week to eat out</span>), is the week that we suck it up, get a couple of sitters and hit the top restaurants on our "to try" list. Restaurants have a set menu, priced at $52.80 for two...and not just the inexpensive items on the list. They showcase some of their best meals; it's the only way we were able to dine at The Fort a few years ago. It started a few years back and was such an stunning hit that many restaurants participate for two weeks, and the list of restaurants grows every year. I highly recommend planning a ski trip around Restaurant Week. I may eat rattlesnake that week, but certainly not bull testicles. A girl's gotta have limits, you know!<br /><br />Denver may not have a signature item, like Chicago's deep dish pizza or hot dogs (ooh...I could go for one of <span style="font-style: italic;">those</span> right now), but this is a food town. Just a very quiet food town. If people came here and realized how beautiful the weather and town and mountains were <span style="font-style: italic;">AND</span> we had good food, no one would leave. Come to think of it, that might explain all the California license plates...Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06600711458051601834noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039653022534234446.post-59709018141637627452009-11-07T17:16:00.003-05:002009-11-07T17:56:50.477-05:00Memories<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy_ojhLALyDsvEtoANeFoj210bdLBfdc_Cbgv-neEfBWsAWWLYPDsHqWzJz6YcGh1FKPFBivhrcMHm_jNGidE2VxUlv8IzWoA_Y0sjmUpITYQ9q6td1cOnnJ1RckRKxIocBkeUkqtdKdQm/s1600-h/6Nov2009+012a.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 237px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 166px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401491571724032082" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy_ojhLALyDsvEtoANeFoj210bdLBfdc_Cbgv-neEfBWsAWWLYPDsHqWzJz6YcGh1FKPFBivhrcMHm_jNGidE2VxUlv8IzWoA_Y0sjmUpITYQ9q6td1cOnnJ1RckRKxIocBkeUkqtdKdQm/s320/6Nov2009+012a.jpg" /></a>Often I hear people talking about their love of a song or some music because it is tied to a certain memory. I have that with food. Take this staple Fudge Shoppe cookie from the Keebler Elves. Frankly, it is nothing spectacular. Basic Chocolate. Basic Cookie. But I LOVE them. I spent a lot of time with my Grandparents on my father's side while growing up. My Grandpa often ate these morsels and washed it down with a Pepsi. To this day, few things are as satisfying as this silly combination. Funny how these things don't often transfer. <br /><br />My wife's family goes on and on about this family tradition they have of these little fried potato dough chunks called Knefles. They have a flavor akin to a potato pierogie but are much starchier. It is one of the few foods that actually has the feeling of rocks settling in my stomach.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039653022534234446.post-31855308920515719802009-11-04T18:00:00.001-05:002009-11-04T18:10:08.704-05:00We Just Want to Find a Place to Eat: A Short Story with Food as Its Theme<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZu5jJzajIdB_hH4wDnAvud2ksiAik1zmurcOJj8_RDW4zHl8_JWsjWBw98xkaYXJRjSEWrKjclxfMZKT7JMtySPW7aAXTvmr1MeaSu6QkuVZvaHrcSL-yu5k4P-FkXshrK2aa20rrqmg/s1600-h/photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZu5jJzajIdB_hH4wDnAvud2ksiAik1zmurcOJj8_RDW4zHl8_JWsjWBw98xkaYXJRjSEWrKjclxfMZKT7JMtySPW7aAXTvmr1MeaSu6QkuVZvaHrcSL-yu5k4P-FkXshrK2aa20rrqmg/s320/photo.jpg" /></a><br />
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Currently teaching a screenwriting class at the local college, I keep asking the students 3 questions:<br />
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1. Who is your protagonist?<br />
2. What does he want?<br />
3. What is his obstacle?<br />
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Without these key ingredients, there is no story. Perhaps an anecdote. But no story.<br />
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This past Friday, Daniel and I embarked on our favorite Cleveland journey: dinner and a movie. Usually we head east to the Cedar Lee, which quenches our thirst for films not targeted at 18-year-old boys. Prior to watching the grown up / indi / foreign films, we tend to have dinner at the local Thai place and, if the film ends early enough, we then head to the Starbuck's on Cedar / Fairmount to discuss the main characters, plots points, story, etc. Little did we know, that on Halloween Eve, we'd end up as the characters in someone else's tale.<br />
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Because the Capitol Theater, run by the same management company as the Cedar Lee, has just been renovated and is closer to my West Side home, we decided to meet by the marquee and give the old / new film house on West 65th and Detroit a try. Unknown to us, having a meal prior to the evening showing of "Where the Wild Things Are" was not going to be easy. No, it was going to be ridiculous.<br />
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Some pseudo-punk kids saw us looking out of place and recommended the coffee shop across the street. With bright lights and a warm wood interior, it looked friendly enough, but Daniel and I craved dinner food, thus we walked right past the pleasant aroma corner shop. We then saw a sign for a family type restaurant and as we approached the sign, realized the location itself was a closed art gallery. We then crossed the street where we saw a pub and agreed getting a burger wasn't so bad. But as we walked near the door, and peeked in, the narrow dark interior, the several decade old absorbed stench of nicotine and the sole patron at the bar gave indication that perhaps the culinary skills were not to be trusted here.<br />
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Next, we headed in the western direction, as we spotted a Mexican dive. And for Daniel, nothing is better than Mexican food. For my educated, world-traveled and uber cultured friend, chips and salsa are the earth's most perfect food. In fact, this blog concept was named after him. As we approached the door to the Mexican restaurant, also brightly lit in contrast to the dark, mostly vacant street, we saw that the sign indicated an 8PM closing. It was 7:45. We hoped. We prayed. But when the owner walked up, unlocked the door and asked us if it's "to go" she might as well have yelled "No chips for you!"<br />
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Next, we meandered to the fast food places: a neighboring sub and pizza chain. Unfortunately for us, neither establishment had any seating room. And was filled with patrons of the most interesting appearances. Now, I lived my first three years in America in Chicago's housing projects. I also spent most of my college years riding the el, boarding and departing on stations in good neighborhoods and in shady ones. Street life does not frighten me. And if it did, I would never show it. Until this night.<br />
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With growling stomachs, frustrated by the lack of gastronomic choices in an "up-and-coming" neighborhood, on an unusually warm night - especially since, whenever Daniel and I go to the Cedar Lee, summer or winter, we always complain of how cold it is - we finally decided to bite the proverbial bullet, because, well, we needed a bite of something. And we saw the familiar arches that have, in a Pavlovian manner, given millions of us a sense of calm and exhale, especially on long cross-country road trips: McDonalds. "I guess we're having Big Macs tonight," said a happy Daniel. "I guess we are," I replied.<br />
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As we entered the standardly constructed location we could both sense that the clientele had reached its lifecycle ceiling: not in age, but in everything else; this was as good as anything would ever be for the adults and children dining in this particular fast food restaurant. It felt kind of sad, because, well, sometimes destinies are created and sometimes they are born into. This group fell into the latter. And, just as Daniel and I were going to order our Big Macs, my good friend, with his eyes wide open, signaled me to look at one of the patrons. As I turned around I saw a thug: tall, almost albino-pale, relatively young man, extremely overweight, wearing all black. But what I didn't immediately see was the large black gun in his right pocket. Ready to be used at any minute. Very quickly, Daniel and I exited the golden arches. And, again, we were back on our quest for food, with West 65th and Detoit as our obstacle.<br />
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The one restaurant that we noticed as soon as our adventure commenced was Luxe: bright signage, sophisticated glass with writing on it and packed interior. We initially wanted to avoid Luxe as a. we had no reservations b. we weren't in the mood to drop snooty restaurant money for a casual night. As we walked in, we were pleasantly surprised: a. they don't take reservations b. they could seat us within 10 or so minutes. And, about 15 minutes later, we had a wonderful table. <br />
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We ordered burgers - the cheapest item on the menu - no apps, no alcohol and two soft drinks. They must have loved us. The music was great, the food pretty good and yet, the evening's contrasting surprises continued: crystals chandeliers hung from the ceilings while, in place of tablecloths and napkins, the restaurant uses coarse, wrinkly dish towels. Given the evening's David Lynch like unveiling, I'll take dishtowels over a gun anytime.<br />
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As we exited Luxe and crossed the street we both commented on the very cool outdoor public benches: curvy and lit up from underneath, solidly situated in what are clearly new sidewalks. You can sit in this neighborhood. You just can't dine in this neighborhood.<br />
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Finally, we entered the Capitol Theater - beautifully redone, with a staff friendliness not yet eroded as it is at the Cedar Lee. We bought our popcorn and soft drinks and headed upstairs, to a beautiful 2nd floor lobby, complete with luxurious couches, a fireplace and vintage artwork. We proceeded to the small theater, what was once considered the balcony, and is now sectioned off from the main screen downstairs. Exhaling from the evening's adventures, we sat down. And within a few seconds, didn't know if someone was playing a joke on us: the original cement, preserved, created the steps to the tiered seating and, like passengers on a regional jet, we both realized that the leg room is missing a good six inches. Not to mention no cup holders for our soft drinks.<br />
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At last, the movie started. A film about a little boy who creates a fantasy world on a desolate island, complete with war, happy music and giant monsters. Monsters who could eat that boy at any minute. How lucky for them.Alexsandra Sukhoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09155564677578333591noreply@blogger.com1