Her Imperial Majesty Junior and the Untidy Josephs

Her Imperial Majesty Junior is eight years old and is an expert in getting what she wants. Sometimes it starts as a suggestion. Other times, it's a complaint. The one constant is that it is constant. And in a moment of weakness or inattention, we give in.

Most of the time, it's another stuffed animal. She has so many I've lost count.

The latest though, came in the form of dinner, something near and dear to my heart. She wanted something she called an "Untidy Joseph". I agreed, not realizing that what she was really asking for was a Sloppy Joe.

Yeah, I know. I haven't had one in about 40 years either. I seem to remember they were a staple of Friday nights for a while, snarfing one down right before The Wild Wild West came on.

The simplest way would be to open a can of Manwich™. But what's the fun in that? No, the only way to make a really sloppy Sloppy Joe is more or less from scratch.

Ingredients:

• One large yellow onion, diced
  
• One red bell pepper, diced
  
• 1 pound of ground beef – 90/10 will work. Anything with a higher fat content will require you to drain the rendered fat off
  
• ¼ cup brown sugar
  
• 15 ounce can of tomato sauce
  
• 1 tablespoon of Montreal Steak Seasoning (I know it's cheating but, hey, it's good)
• 1 tablespoon each red wine vinegar and Worcestershire Sauce

Technique:

• Sauté the veggies in a bit of olive oil until soft, about ten minutes or so.
  
• Add the ground beef and sauté until brown. If there is excessive render fat, this is the time to drain it off.
  
• Mix the sugar and steak seasoning mix, then add to the beef and veggie mixture.
  
• Next, add the tomato sauce, Worcestershire sauce, red wine vinegar and cook until thickened and reduced.
  
• Served on toasted rolls.
  

Our results turned out pretty darn tasty and it did give me the opportunity to do some cooking with Das Kinder. Sloppy Joes – Untidy Joseph's if you will – are a great way to have a little kitchen interaction with your own little ones. And it's a good way to take a step, albeit a small one, into your own past.

I see that Netflix has the Wild Wild West. I think it's time to for Das Kinder to meet Jim and Artie. All while eating an Untidy Joseph.


 

Persistence of Memory – Beef Burger

When one leaves home and goes out boldly into the world, the world changes. The home that one once knew evolves, slowly, almost imperceptibly, like tectonic plates that move only a few inches a year.

You turn around, and almost everyone you knew is gone. Friends move away. Their parents die. That oh-so-fun basement where you used to party with your mates belongs to somebody else now.

But, most of us go back, if only to catalog the changes.

Roads move. Intersections turn into roundabouts. My elementary school was bulldozed and turned into a Super K Mart. True story.

It's an obvious point. Think Einstein's relativistic traveler: you get on a space ship and go away only come back to a place you don't recognize. Only a few remaining touchstones of the past are around to give the returning traveler solace.

In Greensboro, where I once lived, things have changed radically. The Sears I went to in order to sit on Santa's lap is long gone. The University continues to expand, turning ball fields into buildings. The dive bar where I once saw REM play is an upscale coffee shop. So it goes.

But on Lee Street there is a little bit of the past preserved like a fly in amber. And it really hasn't changed since the 1970s.

Beef Burger.

I drive 90 minutes in each direction for their Superburger, all the way, dipped. It is as close to a singularity in the universe as exists. The backstory:

Once upon a time, there were Biff Burgers across the south. The chain started in Florida and slowly spread northward. Biff – an acronym for Best in Fast Food – was a regional chain with two very interesting features. The first was a tangy barbecue-esque sauce that the burgers were dipped in prior to being placed on the bun. The other was an ingenious device called The Roto-Grille™. It consists of two circular grills, one atop the other, that turn like a turntable under broiler units. Burgers go on the top grill to cook, while buns go underneath to toast. But more often than not, the fat from the burgers drip down unto the buns. The result is cholesterol and bliss served in waxed paper.

I remember them from my time at UNCG and I drive back every so often for that taste that can't be duplicated.

Ralph Havis has been running the place since he bought it from the original owner in 1971. Once, I asked him if he was ever going to retire.

"No," he said. "You keeping eating them and I'll keep cooking them."

Succinct.

In the late 1970s, the Burger King chain bought out Biff Burger. All the Biff Burger franchisees where given a choice: they could stay Biff Burgers, or they could switch to Burger Kings. But the choice came with a catch – Burger King was only going to advertise the Burger King line. The Biff Burger owners would have to go it alone.

So they all switched. All except Ralph and a fellow in Tampa. Those are the only two Biff Burger's left in the world.

Ralph changed the name a few years back just to make sure he didn't get sued by somebody. I can't imagine anyone doing that but I suppose it's prudent.

As far as burgers go, it's a mess. With the special sauce and other condiments dripping off the bun, it is definitely a napkin intensive sandwich. Still, I wouldn't miss a bite.

Someday, Ralph will retire. And it will be sad. But as long as he keeps making them, I'll keep eating them. And driving 90 minutes in each direction to do it.

Beef Burger

1040 West Lee Street
Greensboro, NC 27403

(336) 272-750

Cuisine: Burgers to die for

Rating: *****

Prices: $

Atmosphere: Unchanged since 1971

Noise level: low to moderate

Open: Mon – Sun 11 am to 11 pm

Reservations: Of course not.

Other: Cash only, 'natch

We rank restaurants in five categories: Extraordinary***** Excellent**** Above average*** Average** Fair*




 

Abbey Road Grill

The 21^st Century is really cool when it works. However when it doesn't, bad things tend to happen.

Our collective reliance on the internet, cable / satellite television and GPS is probably not a good thing for humankind. Don't get me wrong, having 500 channels including seven ESPNs is pretty nifty. And don't start about the internet because it allows me to work from home. Without broadband, I'd be punching a clock in Long Island – a truly ugly proposition. However, if it goes down, I'm dead in the water. Contracts don't get sent and things grind to a halt. That stated, the local broadband provider (who shall go nameless) is pretty reliable so downtime is kept to a minimum. There is very little hooky being played here.

On a recent excursion to Cary, both her Imperial Majesty and I had GPS failures, or, more correctly, smart phones with GPS failures. We had heard that there were great burgers to be had at the Abbey Road Grill. We had heard that they grind their beef fresh daily so we could have a medium rare burger. We heard that the beer was cold and cheap.

So away from North Raleigh we went, armed with healthy appetites and GPS enabled smart phones to the wilds of Cary. Only halfway there, they both stopped working and went into The Droid™ Reboot Death Spiral that didn't end until we had found the place by dead reckoning and finished our meal.

But Providence was with us and we made it to our destination, despite an intervention from the 21^st Century: the Abbey Road Grill.

From the outside, it looks like it once was a gas station or a C-store or perhaps a combination of the two. No matter. As has been published in this space, former gas stations can crank out genius (see Merritt's Store and Grill).

The atmosphere is relaxed, the beer is cold and the burgers are stupendous. A medium rare burger made with freshly ground beef (10 ounces of Angus, I believe) is something very much out of the ordinary since the state government passed laws dictating how normal citizens can order their sandwiches. Served with French fries or hand cut onion rings (or both in our case), our sandwiches were flavorful and juicy. They were, in a word, marvelous.

The ambiance is that of a quintessentially local joint, where everybody knows everybody else and has for years. Not that they are stuck up; they were very welcoming to my wife and I every time we visited. It is genuinely relaxed environment, where friends gather to root, root, root, for the home team. Comfortable like an old pair of Birkenstocks, it is a place to slip into time and time again, with or without your GPS.

Abbey Road Tavern & Grill
1195 West Chatham Street
Cary, NC 27513
(919) 481-4434

Cuisine: Pub grub done right

Rating: ****

Prices: $

Atmosphere: Relaxed neighborhood tavern

Noise level: low to moderate

Open: Monday - Sunday 11:00 AM - 2:00 AM
Late Night Menu Served Only From 11:00 PM - 2:00 AM
Lunch Menu Available Monday - Friday 11:00 AM - 3:00 PM

Reservations: Nah, not necessary

Other: Come hungry, leave happy.

We rank restaurants in five categories: Extraordinary***** Excellent**** Above average*** Average** Fair*

The dollar signs defined: $ Entrees average less than $10. $$ Entrees $11 to $16. $$$ Entrees $17 to $25. $$$$ Entrees more than $25.




 

The Roast Grill – hot dog Nirvana

When Adam Richman of Man v. Food stopped, he had 17 of them. That's probably a bit over the top, being as he ate them in a manner of minutes. Perhaps, if one is trying to crack Joey Chestnut's record at Nathan's in Coney Island, its okay to snarf hot dogs – 'cuse me, Hot Wieners – in that manner. But here, there should be the proper reverence.

Because they aren't merely good; they are the standard against which all other are judged.

The first time I drove passed it, I was taking her Imperial Majesty le Grand Dame aka My Mother to Captain Stanley's in Garner. This was long before the opened their fine establishment in North Raleigh. I remember seeing the sign and commenting: "If that place is still open, I bet they make the best dogs in town."

In short: they do.

At the Roast Grill, the chili is made on premises from a 70 year old recipe and they don't serve burgers. Or fries. Or cheese dogs. Or combos. Or chips. Only dogs, sodas and beer. That's it. The menu is even more stripped down that Johnson's in Siler City. On a recent visit, Her Imperial Majesty and I (sans Kinder) got there shortly after they opened. Seated at the counter was a fellow buying a dozen or so for a "tailgate" party at a buddy's place. Apparently NC State was playing out of town so they wanted to replicate the tailgate experience without standing in a parking lot.

So they called George and ordered a dozen to go.

I spoke to the owner, George Poniros, and asked him how many dogs he does a week. "Twelve to fifteen hundred was his reply". That's a lot.

We had a couple of dogs for breakfast before decamping to points south. Mine was "all the way", garnished with the afore mentioned chili, onions and mustard. The missus had hers all the way plus slaw made fresh on the premises.

The results? Hot dog perfection. The burnt skin of the dog snaps in the mouth like my favorite New York City dogs from Gray's Papaya. The difference is the toppings, with the chili in particular being particularly tasty. An utterly marvelous experience.

But don't ask for ketchup, because they don't any. I asked George about that too.

"My grandmother used to keep a bottle in the back for the Greek Orthodox priests," he answered.

Ketchup for the local clergy but nothing for the rest of us sinners? That's okay. His dogs are so good, adding ketchup would be a sin. Even if you don't snarf down as many as Adam did.

The Roast Grill

7 S. West Street
Raleigh N.C. 27603

Phone (919) 832-8292

www.roastgrill.com

Cuisine: Quintessential hog dog joint

Rating: ****

Prices: $

Atmosphere: Utterly paleo

Noise level: low to moderate, but who cares?

Open: Lunch Mon – Sat 11 am to 4 pm

Reservations: Are you crazy?

Other: Cash only, 'natch

We rank restaurants in five categories: Extraordinary***** Excellent**** Above average*** Average** Fair*

The dollar signs defined: $ Entrees average less than $10. $$ Entrees $11 to $16. $$$ Entrees $17 to $25. $$$$ Entrees more than $25.




 

Alton Brown and the Mashed Chipotle Sweet Potato Quesadillas

Of all of the folks on the Food Network, the only one who comes off a genuine genius is Alton Brown. The idea that he (and his production staff) can explain the molecular chemistry that happens when something gets cooked and do it with sock puppets so that even her Imperial Majesty Junior can understand it is nothing less than remarkable. Genius is as genius does.

That's why Her Imperial Majesty, das kinder and I recently braved a sojourn to Quail Ridge Book Store inside The Beltline to see Mr. Brown. The place was absolutely packed with (my guess) something like 700 fans, each clutching a new $40 cookbook written by Mr. Brown.

I greeted him on the way in, welcoming him to Raleigh. He said "thank you", then looked at Junior and said "hi, there". She was thrilled.

He took questions for about 30 minutes before signing books, letting those with children go to the front of the line so the little kids could go home and get in the bed. It was a school night after all.

Class. Real class.

His latest endeavor, Good Eats 2, is lavishly illustrated and follows his show episode by episode, showcasing the recipes, procedures and "Knowledge Concentrates", giving a thorough background as to the ingredient in question. The one that jumped out at me while I was standing in line to get the thing signed was for Mashed Chipotle Sweet Potatoes. Alton created this as a side dish. I wanted to take his basic recipe and stick it in a quesadilla, turning it into entrée (and something I can eat on the sofa while watching a baseball game). The result was…well, you'll see.

Ingredients (what he calls software)

• 2 Large sweet potatoes, peeled and cubed
• 2 tablespoons for butter
• 1/2 teaspoon of kosher salt
• 1 Chipotle pepper in Adobo sauce, chopped
• 1 teaspoon of Adobo sauce (from the pepper can)
• 1/4 cup shredded cheddar or jack cheese – prepackaged blends are cool
• Large flour tortillas

Steam the sweet potatoes in a steamer basket for about 20 minutes or until fork tender. Remove them to a suitable bowl, add the butter and salt and mash them with a potato masher. Add the Chipotle pepper and Adobo, then continue to mash.

Next, prepare your tortilla by covering one half with cheese, then top with your mashed sweet potato mixture. Cover the sweet potato mixture with more cheese and fold the tortilla over. Grill or pan sear your quesadilla until golden brown. Garnish with sour cream, guacamole and refried beans.

Dare I say? It is Good Eats.




 

Road trip to the NC Zoo: Johnson’s in Siler City

When one has children, one must go to the local zoo. It is a parental rite of passage. Das kinder need to look at the exotic animals and the parental units need to traipse along with all the accoutrements of child rearing: strollers, hats, water bottles, diapers, etc. Thankfully, her Imperial Majesty Junior is passed that stage so all the 'rents have to do is get there and back without losing sanity.

And it is a long drive from the Triangle to the N.C. Zoo in Asheboro, and the very first time I saw it, I knew I had to stop. Even though it was closed, it just had that aura of down to Earth goodness that a 70 year old roadside diner has.

But that first time I drove passed, it was Sunday so I would have to wait. And waiting is what you do at Johnson's. Get used to it.

One recent Saturday, Her Imperial Majesty, Her Imperial Majesty Junior, her BFF and myself made our way from the wilds of North Raleigh to the wilds of Asheboro to see the lions and tigers and bears (your cue: "Oh my!"). We took US 64 west through the bucolic rolling hills of Chatham County in order to have the burgers at Johnson's in Siler City. We arrived at about 11:15 and the place was packed. I was told that there's a line waiting for them to open at 10 am.

It has everything you need and nothing you don't. The menu is refreshing simple: cheeseburgers, hamburgers, hot dogs / cheese dogs / combos, lettuce and tomato sandwiches, fries and sodas. That's it. Cash only, 'natch.

My wife and I each had a burger and we split a hot dog. The kids each had a burger with Pepsis (no Coke here) all around. So after waiting 20 minutes to be seated and another 15 minutes for lunch, how was it? Great. Everything was served hot on waxed paper – no plates or styro-food here. My burger was Carolina style – chili, mustard, onions and slaw – and was a study in simplicity. And while the Carolina Burger maybe an acquired taste to my transplanted friends from up North; it is the authentic flavor of Central North Carolina. In this, Johnson's succeeds.

In the line, we spoke to a man who had been in Johnson's "20 times" but never had the time to eat lunch. He said he came during the week but his lunch break was too short to actually get served. So he came on Saturday in order to have the experience of actually being fed. He was still waiting in line when we left. We were told on the way out that sometimes they run out of food and close up early. I can see why.

Johnson's Drive In

1520 E 11th Street, Siler City, NC 27344

Cuisine: Roadside diner

Rating: ***1/2

Prices: $

Atmosphere: Another time, another place

Noise level: moderate to high

Open: Lunch only Tuesday through Saturday

Reservations: No

Other: Counter and booth service, cash only

We rank restaurants in five categories: Extraordinary***** Excellent**** Above average*** Average** Fair*

The dollar signs defined: $ Entrees average less than $10. $$ Entrees $11 to $16. $$$ Entrees $17 to $25. $$$$ Entrees more than $25.






 

Dave's Rules of Restaurants -- v 1.0

“Smokey, this is not 'Nam. This is bowling. There are rules.”

 John Goodman as Walter Sobchak in The Big Lebowski

Ever since the advent of cable television, broadcasting stopped being broadcasting and started being narrowcasting. There are channels devoted to every tiny sub-slice of American culture. From Baseball only to Big Ten sports only, there’s a channel for that.

I had just moved back to The Triangle from Baltimore in 1994, when I first saw The Food Network. I had just come off a stint working in the hottest restaurant in town, Tabrizi’s. They were showing an episode of Cooking with Master Chefs and Julia Child was doing a spot with young and skinny Emeril Lagasse on how to deep fry a turkey. I remember thinking at the time: “who in the hell, other than me, is going to watch this more than a couple of times?”

How short sighted of me. The Food Network is a behemoth, launching dozens of celebrity chefs into superstardom. Emeril has his own line of cookware. Paula Deen and Rachel Ray each have their own magazines. Guy Fieri does Aflac commercials.

I begrudge them nothing. I’m glad they’re successful and I’m sure they inspired many that a life in the kitchen is a good thing. One can look upon The Food Network as the Genesis of The new American Culinary Tradition.

But that being said, there are plenty crummy restaurants out there. While there is plenty of talent, there are also plenty of wannabes and fraudsters. Separating the good from the bad can be complicated and difficult. Even if one can believe a published restaurant review, reviewers can very easily wrap themselves in whatever is the fad of the moment. Like Culinary Fashion-istas, they hop from the hottest joint in town to the next hottest joint, their entourage playing follow the leader down the road to foodie hipness.

It’s as simple as that. So there may be a hidden agenda in the subtext. Mine point of view is that I like Paleo-foods. It’s my take on the way food should be prepared – simple and without pretention. You may not agree with it but it’s out there in advance and you know it before you digest a word.

And that’s okay as far as it goes.

But the practical diner needs more than a review from a self-styled foodie that thinks he/she has found the next great thing. There is nothing worse than going to a recently reviewed restaurant to find that the kitchen is so slammed that they can’t get the food out the door and onto your table. Diner’s need a short list of do’s and don’ts so that they can experience the joys of discovering the next hot spot themselves. What diners need, is Dave’s Rules of Restaurants, a simple guide as to what to look for, and what to avoid. They are some general rules:

•  It’s foolish to defy a restaurant’s DNA. If the place is famous for burgers, don’t order the chicken.
• Food is not entertainment.
• Chefs, who do small things well, usually do big things well.
• Over tip breakfast and lunch waiters. I do.
• Sumner Redstone, the Viacom CEO, once said that a really good hot dog is almost as good as a steak. He’s right. Find your local joint and support it.

There are some definite things to look for:

• Anyplace that has a parking lot full of cab drivers and cops is doing something right. These cats have limited time and limited dough to eat so it’s got to be relatively cheap and relatively fast. This is one rule that’s never let me down, from Aruba to New York and everywhere in between.
• If you see a line outside of a road food truck, it’s worth a stop.
• Eating at the bar is good. Generally, you’ll get better service with a more relaxed atmosphere.
• You can usually get a reservation at the hottest place in town on Super Bowl Sunday, providing it doesn’t have a TV.
• Simple is generally better.

And there are some definite things to run away from:

• Never eat in any joint that has a “help wanted” sign on the door. They either don’t have the staff to cook for you, or the staff to deliver it to you, or both. And they’re advertising that fact on the door of their business. Run away.
• A chef being overly ambitious is a quick way to kill a good meal. Unless the chef has a serious reputation for running a tight ship, avoid overly complicated dishes. More ingredients equal more moving parts. More moving parts can lead to skipped steps and ingredients. That can lead to mediocrity and disappointment.
• Sunday brunch is where line cooks pretend to be chefs and bus boys pretend to be line cooks, since the A list chef is probably at home after working a busy Saturday night shift. While there are some exceptions (and Ali from The Hibernian I’m talking about you specifically), bail on brunch unless you can order from the regular menu. And when ordering, see rule b above.
• Mother Day’s is a bad day to go out to lunch. Everyone else in America is doing the same thing: taking Mom to lunch. Ditto Valentine’s Day. Stay home and cook something made with love.
• Regarding wine table service, don’t sniff the cork. You’ll look like an idiot and you’ll learn nothing. Do check to see if it’s moist, though. That means it was stored correctly and probably won’t be vinegar.

With a bit of luck and some perseverance, intrepid diners can find their own hidden gems without having to rely on professionals.

North Raleigh and Chubby’s Tacos

North Raleigh, where I live, gets maligned for all the right reasons. It's full of Yankees from places like Long Island and Boston. It's also Generica, with massive Master Planned Developments that truly looks like Stepford America. There are row after row of little (and not so little) houses that seem nearly identical. One could easily say that it's Levittown all over again, only with bigger houses, less land and better weather. Call it McMansions'R'Us writ large.

Culturally, there's not much going on. There are no hot spots where the beautiful people congregate to see and be seen. No, beautiful people hang out inside The Beltline. Or in Durham. Or in Chapel Hill. But not North Raleigh. Much like Cary to the south, North Raleigh is a place to warehouse those people with funny accents and Yankee / Red Sox Nation paraphernalia affixed to their SUVs and mini-vans. And while it might not be as bad as Chernobyl, it's certainly not high on anybody's must visit list.

As far as the culinary scene goes, there really isn't that much going on, either. The Generica that are the Master Planned Developments supports all the usual chain fare. If you can get it anywhere else, you can certainly get it here. Even the independents offer tame menus aimed at either a) empty-nesters looking for an early bird special or b) something kid friendly for the generation with crumb crunchers. In short, if you want fresh and innovative, hop into your SUV or mini-van and hit the trail to points west.

That is, until last week. Chubby's Tacos opened in North Raleigh.

Now, normally, I adhere strictly to Dave's Rules of Restaurants which states that one should never go to a restaurant during its grand opening; that savvy diners wait about a month or to let the kitchen work out the kinks and the servers to master the menu. There is a caveat though: if the new place is a new location not a new restaurant, then you should be cool.

I went, and it was.

We went on a busy Tuesday at lunch, and the line stretched from the counter to the door. "Mr. Chubby" himself was taking orders and coaxing the system along. Her Imperial Majesty had a Chubby Burrito made with Spicy Tinga – chicken with onions and chipotle peppers – and spinach. I had a pair of tacos – one with carnitas – mild, shredded pork, with onions, lime and cilantro – and one with grilled shrimp in a mild chipotle sour cream sauce. I also opted for sides of rice and refried beans.

Her Imperial Majesty made a quick stop at the Salsa bar, where Chubby's offers at least eight different varieties, each with a different level of spiciness. Our favorite was the Chile de Arbol.

My tacos were perfect. The carnitas taco was light and fresh with a nice balance of cilantro and lime juice. The shrimp taco was marvelous with the chipotle sour cream adding a nice counterpoint the shrimp and tomatoes. Her Imperial Majesty's burrito was a massively over-stuffed thing that we – meaning both of us – could only manage to finish half. It was delicious with the Spicy Tinga nicely complemented by the crispy lettuce and the just wilted spinach. In retrospect, we probably should have approached it with a knife and fork.

Just like the other locations, the food was well prepared, relatively cheap and quite tasty. Service was swift. Is it an asset to North Raleigh? Yes. Is it a reason to visit North Raleigh? Only if our Chubby's is closer than yours. Will it make North Raleigh fashionable? No, but it's a heck of a start.

Chubby's Tacos Falls River Town Center

10511 Shadowlawn Drive
Suite 119
Raleigh, NC 27614
Tel.: 919-846-7044

chubby@chubbystacos.com

Hours of Operation

Mon-Fri		11:00 am-2:30 pm lunch
Mon-Fri		5:00 pm-10:00 pm dinner
Sat		11:00 am-10:00 pm
Sun		Noon-9:00 pm

Cuisine: Modern taqueria

Rating: ***1/2

Prices: $

Atmosphere: North Raleigh strip mall chic

Noise level: low to moderate to high

Open: Lunch Monday-Friday, dinner Tuesday-Saturday, brunch Sunday (11 a.m. to 5 p.m.)

Reservations: No

Other: Self service, credit cards okay

We rank restaurants in five categories: Extraordinary***** Excellent**** Above average*** Average** Fair*

The dollar signs defined: $ Entrees average less than $10. $$ Entrees $11 to $16. $$$ Entrees $17 to $25. $$$$ Entrees more than $25.




 

Everything is better with pork: Salmon with Prosciutto, lentils with yogurt and wilted spinach

I like early fall. It means that here, in Raleigh, it's no longer 90 degrees everyday. And that's the signal I use for firing up the oven.

Turning the oven in summer is an idiotic enterprise that only raises the temperature of my home and, subsequently, jacks up my already high electric bill.

So I don't do it. I wait until autumn to do any roasting, and then, only short snippets. I mean, it's not that cool yet.

At this time of year, if I do anything in a hot oven, it needs to go in and  come out quickly. That doesn't leave much time for big flavors to meld.

The solution: thinly sliced pork.

Now, despite what my vegetarian friends tell me, I still believe that everything tastes better with pork. Don't believe me? Take almost any recipe from the famous Moosewood Restaurant Cooks at Home from 1994 (save the desserts, ' natch) and add pork. Almost all of them come out better because, as Emeril LaGasse says, "pork fat rules".

I love to cook on Saturday nights and this is one of my favorites: Salmon, wrapped in prosciutto, served with lentils and yogurt and wilted spinach. It's a simple, two pan / two mixing bowl dish that only takes about 20 minutes to cobble together. And since the prosciutto is so thinly sliced as to be translucent, it crisps up beautifully in only a few minutes. Oven on. Oven off.

What you need:

• Salmon filets – 6 to 8 ounce portions should work fine. They should be long and narrow as opposed to short and wide, for reason that will become obvious
  
• 8 slices of prosciutto – the prepackaged stuff will work fine
  
• 8 ounces of cooked lentils – cooked pretty firm. You don't want mushy lentils. The pre-cooked stuff from Trader Joe's works great.
  
• ½ cup plain yogurt – I like Greek yogurt for this assembly
  
• A handful of spinach, coarsely chopped
  
• Juice of a lemon
  
• Olive oil – here you can break out the EVOO but it's not necessary
  
• Thyme, basil and oregano, coarsely chopped
  

How to do it:

• Preheat your oven to 425 degrees.
  
• Season the salmon with salt and pepper, then wrap the prosciutto around the salmon, leaving some areas of the fish exposed.
  
• Place in a pan, and douse with a bit of olive oil
  
• Broil it for 10 minutes or so. If you like it pinker, go less.
  
• Meanwhile, take your cooked lentils and drain most of the water out. Add your chopped spinach and herbs, then crank up the heat, cooking the spinach and herbs until just wilted.
  
• Now take your yogurt and combine it with the lemon juice and about a quarter as much olive oil. Whisk so everything gets blended. Now it's time to plate,
  
• Place on piece of your beautiful salmon on a plate. In a bowl, take your lentils and spinach and toss with you lemon yogurt sauce. Arrange on the plate with your salmon.

Simple, easy and healthy. The prosciutto adds a nice salty edge to the salmon while the lentils and spinach balance everything out.



Bon Appetit!


 

 

 

The perfect BLT -- Merritt’s Store and Grill

Back in the mid 1990s, when I lived in the wild, bucolic, rolling hills of Chatham County, I used to drive pass a run down Esso station on US 15-501, built circa 1945, every few days on the way to Chapel Hill in order to pick up this or that. In those days, this or that usually meant a trip to the Wellspring, a stop at the Mediterranean Deli on Franklin Street or occasionally a pizza from Pepper's. And every time I drove passed it, there would be cars – Beamers, Volvo wagons and the like – in the parking lot, but little evidence that anything was going on inside. It looked to world that or at least to me, that this was nothing more than a little family run country store, eking out an existence on its way to being bulldozed and turned in a TGI McFunsters.

Tragic, in a personal way for the family trying to make it in an age where corporate behemoths rule the universe and little guys get trampled underfoot.

I moved away to New York for five years, only to spend hours commuting into The City and freezing myself nearly solid as blizzard after blizzard finally disabused me on the notion that the horsey part of Westchester County, New York was Currier and Ives landscape made real. Sure, it looks great dressed in white, but how in the &@#$%^! do I get to the train station in this mess?

A Double on Sourdough, with mayo

So five years later, we came back and the little Esso Station that could was still there, complete with the same complement of high buck Euro-steel in the parking lot. It was only then that I learned the magic secret: this little Esso Station was no Esso Station eking out an existence. This Esso Station is Merritt's Store and Grill and they make BLTs like nobody's business.

Hipsters knew but I didn't. But I do now.

There are other things on the menu and I have heard of people ordering fried bologna sandwiches but I never have.

No, the star of the show is the BLT, which comes in three variants: the Single, the Double and The Triple and they are exactly what you think they would be. A single is Bacon, Lettuce and Tomato between two slices of the bread of your choice – mayo optional. The double is Bacon, Lettuce and Tomato, and then another layer of Bacon, Lettuce and Tomato. The triple is three layers of the BLT between two slices of bread. To put it in perspective; a triple is almost as big as my head.

This time of year, the Tomatoes are perfect. The Bacon comes from Cliff's in Carrboro and has the right balance of fat to lean, smoke to salt. Is it worth the drive from Raleigh? You betcha'. Is it special? So special, in fact, I took my Mom to lunch there for Mother's Day (okay, it was the Saturday before since they're closed on Sundays).

The prices are reasonable, with a double coming in at about eight bucks. Worth it.

Merritt's Store & Grill

1009 S. Columbia St.

Chapel Hill, 919-942-4897

Cuisine: Road food
Rating: ****
Prices: $
Atmosphere: Ex-gas station
Noise level: low
Open: 6 am to 8 pm Monday through Friday, 8 am to 8 pm Satuday. Closed Sunday.
Reservations: No
Other: Self-service, cash only

We rank restaurants in five categories:

***** Extraordinary – Intense attention to ingredients and preparation and devoid of pretense. Everything right.

**** Excellent – Attention to ingredients and preparation; in down scale environs, its something that’s absolutely true to its DNA.

*** Above average – Spotty attention to ingredients and preparation; okay but not great.

** Average – Will do in a pinch but not worth the journey.

* Fair – Don’t bother, as it probably has a help wanted sign in the window. Always the harbinger of a bad time on the horizon.

The dollar signs defined: $ Entrees average less than $10. $$ Entrees $11 to $16. $$$ Entrees $17 to $25. $$$$ Entrees more than $25.

What happens when an ancient restaurant dies – Cheese Soup at The Old Drover’s Inn

Opening montage: bucolic country settings, old barns, portraits of the people mentioned in the voice over.

Ambient sounds: crickets and other appropriate country sounds.

Music: soft, melancholy fiddle music should start midway through the opening narration.

Voice over (should be David McCullough-esque): In 1750, Louis the 15^th presided over the Court at Versailles. Across the channel, 12 year-old Edward the 6^th sat on the throne on England. In America, Benjamin Franklin had just captured nature's fury with his invention the lightening rod. It was an invention he never patented and freely gave away to the world. In China, the Qing Dynasty ruled and would continue to until the early part of the 20^th Century. The Pope, Benedict the 14^th, officiated services at St. Peter's in Rome.

In 1750, Philadelphia was the largest city in the English speaking American colonies with a population of some 25,000. New York had just 15,000 people and Baltimore, a mere 7,000. The average life expectancy was 35 years of age.

In 1750, the Declaration of Independence was 26 years in the future. Its author, Thomas Jefferson, was seven years old. The United States Constitution was 39 years away. Its author, James Madison, had yet to be born.

In 1750, in the town that would later be named Dover Plains in Duchess County, New York, John Preston opened his house to the folks driving cattle from farms in Upstate New York to Vermont. Eventually, it would be called the Old Drover's Inn and it would operate for the next 260 years, serving hearty fare and its famous Cheese Soup to anyone that came by. Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton famously fled there to avoid the glaring eyes of the paparazzi and her then husband, Eddie Fisher, in 1962.

Then, in July of this year, 2010, it went through foreclosure and was and shut down. Gone forever. It was sold for less than $350,000.00. So rapid was its demise, it was reported that dirty dishes were simply left on tables and food was allowed to rot in refrigerators.

The economy can be blamed. Changes in diners' tastes can be blamed. Lax management or inattentive service could also be culprits. It's out of the way location -- miles from the nearest Interstate -- may have been a factor.

Whatever. The fact remains, it's gone. And while this one restaurant's closure may or may not be a big deal, it is part of a disturbing trend: America is losing some of its culinary heritage. 

Now, some may argue that we never had any great culinary heritage; that we were all immigrants, bringing our old school recipes and culinary culture with us from Africa, Asia and Europe. America was not France or Italy or China or Japan or some other country with a great culinary tradition; that only now are we learning to cook and care about food in the way that those countries with great culinary traditions did way back when most Americans didn't have indoor plumbing. And you'd be right. But that misses a larger point.

The food our grandparents and great-grandparents ate at the turn of the 20^th century up through the Eisenhower era is alien to most hipsters today. People in Middle America in the early part of the last century -- the non-urban, rustic, bucolic countryside of the Depression -- often ate something they killed in their backyards. Preparations were simple. Restaurants, such as they were, churned out regional comfort food. And as more of these ancient restaurants die, they take their traditional recipes with them to their graves.

I have a cookbook from 1950 that lists the Old Drover's Inn as a destination and includes the recipe for their famous Cheese Soup. Her Imperial Majesty and I visited the Inn during happier times when it was open and, yes, we had the soup. It was astonishing and I can see why it made it into the book. But the book is long out of print. Now, thanks to the internet, the recipe for its' Cheese Soup may live forever. Here it is:

• 12 ounce cheddar cheese, shredded
  
• 4 tablespoons of butter
  
• ½ cup diced carrots
  
• ½ cup diced green peppers
  
• ½ cup minced onion
  
• ½ cup minced celery
  
• 1/3 cup flour
  
• 1 quart, chicken stock
  
• 3 to 4 cups of milk
  
• Salt and pepper
  

Melt butter in 4 quart pan, melt the butter. Sauté all vegetables until soft. Blend in flour to make a roux. Cook one minute, then add stock and stir until thick. At this point, the recipe calls for straining the veggies, but since I don't have a strainer, I put the stock and veggies in a food processor and pureed them. Then, back into the pot. Add the cheese and stir until it melts, then add the milk until it reaches a creamy consistency. Season with salt and pepper. I like to add a shot of sherry at the end for a bit of an extra kick.

Wholesome and savory. Hale and hearty. One can close one's eyes and with the aroma alone be magically transported back in time to a much different America, an America before it had its cultural ADHD, a time when everything didn't have to be oh-so-up-to-the-minute and the 24 hour news cycle simply didn't exist. A time when things were much slower and people stopped at out of the way inns and watering holes to take in the local fare. Sadly, it's an America that slowly going away, dying one by one like the last veterans of wars fought long ago. Soon, they will all exist only in our collective memories, their recipes in ancient, out-of-print cookbooks, preserved for the ages.


 

Of Swedish cars, Birkenstocks and Tofu – Vit Goal Tofu, RTP

For decades, I used to make fun of people who drove Swedish cars, wore Birkenstocks and ate tofu. Volvos and Saabs always seemed a bit too much like fashion statements to me. Priced like Benz's and Beamers, but with less horsepower, they didn't make sense to me. I always thought of Saabs as BMW wannabes. 

Indeed, when I was living in the horsey part of Westchester County, New York, there was a couple down the street who had one of each. Their house was immaculate and their gardens were so perfect they look Photoshop-ed™. It was like they were making a statement about their hyper-sensibilities and their sterling non-conventionality. The cars, the house, the garden were all statements. Like obnoxious political bumper stickers or those stupid Darwin fish affixed to the back of people's cars, "statements" as political fashion gave me headaches.

However, in my advancing age, I seem to have mellowed and ripened like -- dare I say it -- French cheese. Now, I stare into my garage and there is a Saab and a Volvo parked right next to each other, each a different shade of gray. No, there is not a obnoxious political bumper sticker or a Darwin fish on either. They are well designed and well engineered machines and I like them both and will drive them until their wheels fall off. I now think of my Saab as a BMW don't wannabe. As for Birkenstocks, 15 years of waiting tables and bartending ruined my feet. So now, I own six pair including two pair that looks like real shoes. They made my heel spurs go away.

And yes, I even eat tofu. I love it in fact.

What I once maligned out of sheer ignorance and did not enjoy when I did try it because of sloppy preparation, I have returned to out of devotion to one dish from one restaurant. It's an unassuming Korean place in a strip shopping center located next to an Asian grocery store in Durham, just outside of Research Triangle Park, off the 54/55 exit north.

Vit Goal Tofu. Just typing this makes me hungry.

The dish of choice sits in the middle of the place's DNA: the tofu soup with vegetable dumplings. Delivered in a smoking hot stoneware bowl, the soup is mixture of broth, vegetable dumplings and massive amounts of tofu, with the creamy consistency of scrambled egg whites. One can order it with a variable level of spiciness. Her Imperial Majesty Junior likes hers plain white, while the Missus and I take ours a bit spicier. It's served with rice and the usual compliment of pickled kim chee sides. My glasses always fog as this soup is served steaming hot.

The other dishes I've had there – beef short ribs, bibimbop and scallion pancakes – are all good. But one of Dave's Rules of Restaurants is that you should never go against the DNA of the place. Just like you should never order chicken in a place named for burgers, if tofu is in the joint's name, you need to go with it. In this case, it's nothing less than spectacular. The food couldn't get any simpler or any better.

Vit Goal Tofu Restaurant

919-361-9100

2107 Allendown Dr. Ste 101
Durham, NC 27713


 

Circa 1981 – Ruelle’s and Café Central

Her Imperial Majesty is a bit eccentric in a charming sort of British way, and no, it’s not for the obvious reason that she married me. No, she’s a bit eccentric in a charming sort of British way because collects matchbooks from restaurants that are long dead.

The downside: I have lots of packs of matches that I can’t use because they’re “special”.

The upside: As far as collections go, it’s inexpensive and it doesn’t take up much space, unlike collections of shoes, horses or BMWs.

One of her favorite stories is about a long dead restaurant that was once the talk of the Upper West side: Ruelle’s. At 75th and Columbus, it was the place to be single and be seen. A New York magazine piece (starts on page 42) at the time goes to great lengths to talk up how it re-vitalized a neighborhood and went to greater lengths to talk up the singles scene and celebrity sightings.

Bobby DeNiro. Warren Beatty. Calvin Klein. They all popped by at one time or another.

But despite all the attention given to "The Scene" and to the celebrity sightings, there is nary a word about the food. Oh, they do mention that it is a restaurant and not a disco and there is a passing reference to its "nouvelle cuisine", but that’s where it stops.

You see, that was back in the early 1980s. All food was comfort food and, thanks to the absence of The Food Network, not every restaurant was trying to be high-end gourmet. You can call it the “bad old days” if you want. I call it Paleo-food. Paleo-food is simple, honest preparations devoid of pretense and attitude. It was food as "food" and not as "food-based entertainment."

So Her Imperial Majesty and her two mates – Susan and Linda – would hit Ruelle’s for a quick bite before running off to that other west side hot spot (read "meet market"), Café Central. There, they would hustle single men to buy them drinks. And there, Bruno the surly bartender, would sling liquor and abuse the customer base as if he were a future movie star. Heck, every waiter or bartender in New York thinks they’re a future movie star. However, in this case, the surly bartender – Bruno Willis – did turn out to be a future movie star: Bruce Willis.

The ladies all tell me he was a jerk. I wasn’t there and don’t know if it’s true, but that’s what they told me.

Anyway, since they were young and struggling to live in The City, the girls had to eat the cheapest thing on the menu. At Ruelle’s that was the vegetable plate. It’s simple and direct.

Ingredients:

• ½ cup broccoli, steamed
• ½  cup cauliflower, steamed
• ¼ cup diced carrots, steamed
• ½ cup snow peas, steamed
• ¼ cup walnuts 
•  ½ cup each Cheddar and Gruyere cheeses
•  ¼ cup white wine (the cheap stuff will work)
• Juice of one lemon
• Pinch of salt.

 Directions:

• Fire up your broiler
• Take your steamed veggies and walnuts and arrange in some artful way in a broiler proof pan
• Combine the wine, with the lemon juice and salt. Whisk.
• Pour the wine/lemon mixture over the veggies
• Top the veggies with your cheeses
• Broil until the cheese brown and happy
• Serve

Can’t get much easier than that. It’s works as both a side dish and as a main dish, if combined with brown rice. Pair this with a fruity white wine and it should make a easy mid-week meal.