Bourbon Article

I've been a fan of premium Bourbons for two years now, and argue they should at least be considered as existing at the same level as single malt scotches. I was happy to see this New York times article all about the 'Spirit of America', found here.

Turkey Recipe Images

Carve a Turkey

A great video for carving a whole turkey efficiently can be found after the link here. It is definitely not for table side presentation, but it helps in showing how to get the meat into serving sizes.

Thanksgiving Turkey Recipe

I've developed this recipe over the past several years. It involves a process called brining and a Shallot Herb Butter. The brining takes more planning but guarantees moist meat, and the cooking time is pretty forgiving. The shallot herb butter can be used on other poultry, rich cuts of beef, bread, and veggies. This version feeds 5 to 10 people depending on the fixings and appetites, but can be easily expanded to fit a bigger bird. The shopping list tends to fall between $30 and $80 bucks depending on what's around the house, but per person this is not too bad. Preparation time with an uncooked bird is half an hour of work followed by waiting 12 hours, with 3.5 to 4 hours cooking time.
Needed Equipment
Disposible Aluminum Roasting Pan
Cookie Sheet of the same size
Insta-read thermometer
Large Tongs
8" or longer knife
Tinfoil
12 Quart or larger container with lid
Shopping List
10-15 Pound Turkey, thawed
1/2 lbs Butter
1 Bunch Carrots
4 Medium Onions
1 Bunch celery
4 Shallots
3-6 Cloves Garlic
1 Apple
1 Lemon
1 Bunch Fresh Sage
1 Bunch Fresh Thyme
1 Bunch Fresh Rosemary

1 Cup Brown Sugar
1 Cup Kosher Salt, plus a little more
Fresh Ground Pepper
2 lbs Ice

Preparation: (4-12 Hours or more in advance)

1. The Brine- In a sauce pan bring 2 quarts to a near boil. Stir in the brown sugar and kosher salt and poor into the 12 quart container. Add the ice and put aside. (This dissolves the sugar and salt for what will become the brine).
   
2. The Bird- Rinse the bird and thoroughly under cold water, and pull out the little plastic popper (this is useless). Clean out any giblets and pieces from the cavities, and trim the piece of fat off from where the neck would extend. Place the bird in the container from step one and top off with cold water until the whole turkey is submerged. Cover and place in a cool, safe place (like the fridge or outdoors should you be north). Half way through the 4-12 hour period flip the bird end over end. (This is brining, and it opens up all the muscle mass in the bird, hydrating and flavoring all the meat. This should keep the bird moist and delicious).
3. Shallot Herb Butter- Take out the 1/2 lbs of butter and allow it to soften on the counter. Dice and crush the four shallots, and 3/4 of the bunches of sage, thyme, and rosemary. Blend these with the butter into a smooth paste and add salt and pepper to taste. Put aside until 1 hour before cooking time (This will be a major source of flavor when cooking the bird, and make your house smell great).

Cooking The Bird (3-4 Hours)

1. Ready the Bird- Preheat the oven to 450 degrees Fahrenheit. Remove the bird from the brine, rinse lightly, and pat dry. Put it aside. Allow the Shallot Herb Butter to soften by removing it from the refrigerator, but make sure it doesn't melt.
   
2. Setting the Pan- Slice the onions into sections about 1 inch thick, and half the carrots to be about the same thickness. Separate and wash the celery. Place these vegetables across the bottom of the aluminum pan flatly, building a little rack. Reserve half an onion and one carrot for stuffing the bird later. Place the aluminum pan on top of the cookie sheet. (This provides a natural roasting rack for the bird, as well as flavor, aromatics, and a good start for a pan gravy later on, and the cookie sheet makes it easy to move in and out of the oven).
3. Butter and Stuff the Bird- With your hands rub the Shallot Herb Butter over the entire outer surface of the bird, and under the skin where it has started to separated. Stuff any remaining butter into the cavity. Split the lemon, apple, and remaining vegetables so they will fit inside the cavity of the bird and put them there, along with the garlic (peeled) and remaining sprigs of thyme, sage, and rosemary. (While most people put their actual stuffing in the bird I prefer to cook it separately, focusing on these more flavor intense fillings).
4. The Hot Roast- Place the bird into the 450 degree oven on the middle oven rack as far in the center as possible. Allow to cook for 20 minutes and then remove from the oven and turn it down to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. (This stage begins the roasting process and browns the outside of the bird. The rest of the process is done at a lower temperature).
5. Tinfoil Protection- Quickly fashion a triangular shaped shield large enough to cover the breast of the turkey and fit it over the bird, making sure it is secure. Fashion similar shields for the tips of the wings and place the entire bird back in the 350 Degree oven. (The tinfoil acts as a heat diffuser, making sure the breast meat doesn't dry out and the keeps the wings from burning while the dark meat gets the temperature it needs).
   
6. Roast- Allow the turkey to roast at this temperature for 15 minutes for every pound the turkey weighs. If using a 12 pound bird this should be roughly three hours. Rotate a half circle once in the middle of cooking to adjust for an uneven oven.
7. Finishing the Roast- Towards the end of the cooking time remove the tinfoil and insert an insta-read thermometer into the thickest part of the breast, being careful not to touch the bone. Allow the thermometer to stop moving to get an accurate read. If it is less than 155 degrees Fahrenheit than place the bird back in the oven (sans tinfoil) and check again in 10 minutes. Once 155 degrees is reached take out the bird and let rest for 10 to 15 minutes. (The heat will carry over and bring the entire temperature to at least 165 degrees, making it safe to eat. The resting period lets the juices settle as well, so less moisture will be lost).
8. Carve and Serve- Carefully place the bird on a large cutting bird and carve. (Carving can be challenging, and I recommend using a longer sharp knife as well as doing some research. Gravy can be made using the pan drippings. Dig up more information from sites like the Food Network and the Butterball page).
   

Dealing with the first Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is less than two weeks away, and I am loosing my mind. Its not that I'm busy, or intimidated, just the opposite. This Thanksgiving well be the fourth one Nicole(the better half) and I have hosted since becoming contributing members of society, and we've cooked a whole turkey at least half a dozen times. I consider us a well oiled machine, and last year we hosted my mother, a woman who has basically prepared the bulk of T-day meals on her own for the past fifteen years. She was amazed at how independent Nicole and I were, and sat in the corner feeling like she was somehow letting the universe down by not being busy. I loose my mind over Thanksgiving not because of stress, but at the excitement of putting a ridiculously good meal together for some friends and watching them stuff themselves silly. Its one of those special events, like Superbowl or the yearly Crayfish boil hosted by Paige and Jeff, where we all go overboard.

I know many of us younger folks who are far from home find ourselves hosting our very own Orphan Holidays, and are intermediated by the shear mass of that infant-like 15 pound bird thawing in the sink, and the fear of holding a poor substitute for how Mom does things. But over the past several years Nicole and I have managed to reign in the meal to something that is easy to time, provides little stress, and is relatively light on the wallet. It just takes some planning and restraint, and expects your friends to pull a little bit of the weight. Here are some tips for making your first Thanksgiving a manageable affair. I'll follow up with another entry detailing a great turkey recipe.

• Roast a Chicken: Not necessarily for the Thanksgiving meal (though a good idea for five people or less), but sometime before hand. Its hard to know where to begin with something so large and unprocessed like a turkey, and while a chicken is not quite the same thing I think it helps get over some of the intimidation factor. Roasting a whole chicken helps you realize what goes into preparing a big piece of meat, builds confidence, and makes you think about timing. And is just a good skill to have.
• Bet on Your Friends: Trying to cook every little side dish and dressing yourself on top of the big bird is really hard. and most apartment dwellers will run out of pots, pans, and space before they get halfway through the meal. Ask that your guests bring their own stuff, so you can focus on the big ticket items like the bird, mash potatoes, and gravy. Everyone has specific dishes from their family's holiday table, and its really cool to share these traditions with one another.
  
• Turkey Rules: Chances are you never have had to shop for a turkey. While I'll get to the recipe in another post, there's some tips for grabbing the right size bird. Frozen is fine, just make sure you have several days to let it thaw in the fridge (or run cold water over it for long time). I go with about a pound and a half of turkey per person. Eight ounces is a generous protein serving, but you have to account for the bird's bones, left overs, and gluttons. Another rule of thumb for guessing the cooking time (using my method) is 15-20 minutes for every pound. You want to yank the bird out when you have an internal temperature of 155 degrees Fahrenheit, and the bird will continue to cook the last 1o degrees to the FDAA poultry guideline of 165. Butterball has a fancy site if you can stomach adver-info, found here.
• Got the Gear: Make sure you have enough plates, glasses, forks, knives, etc. to hook up all your guests (unless you're going for a medieval theme). If not, go plastic or get cheap stuff from a place like Target or Ikea. Beyond that, you're going to want an Instaread thermometer, a sharp knife at least 8" long, a big cutting board, one or two long pairs of tongs, a cookie sheet, oven mitts, and one of those throwaway aluminum roasting pans. These are the essentials, and I'm sure you can borrow, steal, or jerry-rig anything else you need.
• Relax: Get drunk, eat too much, have fun. If it is a complete disaster, so what? You've got a funny story and why don't your friends offer to host if they could do better. Perfection is for trophy wives and Martha Stewart, but Thanksgiving is all about giving into your inner fat bastard with friends and family.
  

To Eat and Live in LA

I found this fun but short article on the New York Times website that really captures the dietary contradictions of living in Los Angeles. It is bizarre that the land of raw food and steamed fish diets is the birth place of fast food and the bacon wrapped hot dog. I can't speak to these recipes, but enjoy the article.
The Hollywood Diet
by Jennifer Steinhauer

Business & BBQ in Dallas

This week business brought me to the greater Dallas/Ft Worth Area. While I didn't get much time to chase after food in the two days I was there, my hosts took me and my associates to two different BBQ places, one for dinner and one lunch. The dinner joint was disappointing. Love & War in Texas is a two location operation with a great name. Inside the enormous structure of their Grapevine shop there's huge ceilings and lone star flags, those double saloon doors you see in cowboy movies, and a couple of empty stages (no music on Wednesday nights I guess). The menu felt like something from a national chain, tons of options printed in large text across four stiff, glossy folds. The way the BBQ was divided up between different regional schools of ingredients, techniques, and sauces was a nice touch for a food nerd like myself, and wild boar did show up in several spots.

I wanted to try the BBQ brisket, as its what Texas is suppose to be all about. Every region of the US has its own style of barbecue (an excellent wikipedia entry here), with its own favorite cuts, and in Texas its hot smoked brisket, a tough cut popular with European immigrants. The menus, with their commercial fonts and registered trademark signs, made me suspicious, but one of the Texans at the table said the brisket should be alright. Wishful thinking. Relatively dry, tasteless meat smothered in an average sauce was what I got. My friend Jeff (who is from Texas) does a better job on his balcony in a little smoker. The meal was not a total wash, as our young waiter kept the enormous pints of local brew Shiner Bock flowing. The boar, tried in quesadilla form, tastes like little more than roast beef, but hey, its another critter I can check off the list as eaten. The only real highlight was the Oatmeal cookie sundae at the end. Cinnamon ice cream (worth the trip alone) over hot oatmeal cookies, with whipped cream and caramel makes any meal better. Even our host was disappointed, and secretly vowed to blow our minds with lunch the next day.

Hard Eight BBQ will be remembered as a special place as far as my gregarious appetite is concerned. After loading up the party of 12 or so in several different cars and driving to the suburb community of Coppell, we pulled up to a well maintained but industrial looking building. The railed-in line runs a zigzag underneath a large awning, and it took me a moment to realize we where not surrounded by empty picnic tables, but smokers measuring at least eight feet in length and five feet in hight. Each a menacing sarcophagus of smoked goodness, they stood like flat black steam punk arks, pipes and gauges popping out above the top. Above all this swung the menu on a well varnished plaque, listing several types of cooked meats to be ordered by the pound. Round the corner, one of the big black boxes is presented open to the line, prostate before those brave enough to take in the gastronomic glory with their eyes. Think the ark of the covenant from Indiana Jones, but instead of your face being melted you get really hungry. Warning signs about eyes being bigger than stomachs where hung from the entrance to the pit.

Friendly staff passed trays of food from other smokers too one another between the light Thursday lunch crowd. One of the guys working the pit added a tray of fresh half chickens, wedged somewhere between the roasted corn (with a little husk left for convenience) and pork ribs. As he worked his tongs through the tray of fresh supplies he looked at one piece of chicken and pitched it into the garbage. Dave, a co-worker asked why, and the pit worker said 'I didn't like the look of it'. This blew Dave's mind, as he is a big fan of Cheese Cake factory, Chile's, and several other chains not known for strict quality control. Dave also cringed as they cut slides off a large piece of brisket, flagging himself as a modern man, deeply removed from the fact that meat once strolled across the ground, had pretty brown eyes, and made cute noises.

The display, covering the entire smoker rack, included smoked turkey breast, plain and jalapeño sausage, a vat of butter with half cobs of corn floating about, two different cuts of steak, seriously thick pork chops, and pork ribs. A highlight where the Brush Poppers, bites of turkey wrapped in bacon and smoked. After some soul searching I went with the pork ribs (in retrospect I should of hit the brisket...I bet that one would of been up to snuff) and a roast corn cob, declining the offer of dipping it in butter. The man with the massive knife chopped up some ribs, getting my okay before weighing the grub and printing out a sticker. Sliding inside, a selection of fluffy white bread (in Texas Toast or Roll form), sides, and deserts are offered before cashing out. I have to admit this one was on the company dime, and I didn't get a chance to see the total. I can tell you it was all worth it. Beyond the bar with, constantly running frozen drink machines and the soda fountain was a pot filled with navy beans, jalapeños, and who knows what else, offered self service style.

While the ribs where not the best in the world, I most definitely did not complain. A good rib does not let go of its meat without some resistance, but a mouthful should be tender, as the Hard Eight's pit master had done. The dry rub on the outside offered complex mix of sweet and spice, and I did not need to add any sauce. While you can argue any way, I believe good BBQ should not need sauce, and any addition should be left to the diner. The meat was pink (a sign of good smoking, not being rare). They left the membrane, a layer of tissue on the back side of the ribs, on the bone, but I get the sense it did nothing but add flavor. The smoky flavor, primarily mesquite, had the distinct personality of a down home piece of barbecue done by someone who not only likes their job, but respects the cuisine. The corn was roasted to perfection, and my Styrofoam cup of banana bread pudding was great, pushing me from happily overfed to slightly uncomfortable. Our host, the one who mistakingly led us astray at Love and War in Texas smiled as we waddled back to the office, trying to stay alert for the rest of the meeting. Dave even had to run to a smoothie place near by, needing something resembling fruits or vegetables so he could feel like a good person.

Barbecue, in my mind, is the national cuisine of America. I know other nations do it, but ours blends old world cuts (much of Texas can thank German immigrants for its BBQ tradition) with new world ingredients, and the process of smoking meats speaks of the frontier, the deep old growth forests and endless prairies that helped define the American identity. BBQ reflects the unique regions of the country, with even neighboring states claiming different (and superior) methods and styles. In Texas I had some the best BBQ of my life, presented in an awesome restaurant, obviously built by someone who decided to run their joint just the way they please. Sure, the night before I was eating dry, un-inspired commercial knock off versions, but without these bad meals we never can appreciate the great ones.

San Francisco: Lament

As stated in a short post a long time ago, I went to San Francisco. If there ever was a great city for food lovers and fat bastards, it is that one. The proximity to prime growing areas, like the vineyards of Napa and Sonoma and the incredibly fertile San Joaquin promises a source of high quality regional ingredients and wine. The massive Chinese population, a people who have been serious about food before the rest of the world had moved beyond 'Cold or Not Cold' must help. At one point the bay was over flowing with seafood, and an influx of European immigrants built a style of cuisine around it. These factors, along with a bunch I am more likely completely ignorant of, has led to an awesome region of food excellence.
A figurehead in this San Franciscan tradition of culinary excellence is chef Alice Waters, and her restaurant Chez Panisse. Established in 1971, the restaurant serves a fixed menu which changes on a daily basis. The ingredients are as local and fresh as possible, and the emphasis has recently focused on organic food, but served with the quality and passion of the French tradition. While I can not say Waters and her restaurant are responsible for cuisine as we now know it in America, Chez Panisse can be pointed to as a leader in many of this countries food trends, and a pillar in the eating scene of the Bay Area. With all this said, I did not eat there.
The worst part about my trip to San Francisco is how I managed to avoid amazingly great meals, and pursued a itinerary of mediocrity. Average Chinese in China Town, so-so pasta in the Italian North Beach neighborhood, both meals where not bad, but not good, and walking up the street we passed numerous locations that looked like better choices. The breakfast we had at Cortez, the upscale Mediterranean restaurant located in our hotel was forced, overpriced and disappointingly simple. This is a sharp contrast compared to the high quality of the Hotel Adagio, which had excellent service, nice rooms, and a top notch snack selection in the mini-bar.
This isn't to say the food of the entire trip was a let down. Located in the waterfront district called the Embarcadero across from Market Street is the restored Ferry Building. Not only is it a working terminal for cross-bay boat commutes, but a market of high quality food vendors have set up a permanent residence. DELICA rf1 takes the small dishes bento box and fills it with dishes inspired by the ingredients and philosophies for which the bay area is known, making a refreshing and fun work time lunch option and a new deli fusion concept. At this market you can find high quality meats, a stall devoted entirely to mushrooms, and belly up to counter service caviar. We picked up a sourdough loaf, and an excellent artichoke and olive bread from the artisan bakery Acme Bread Company. Another cornerstone of the market is the CowGirl Creamery Cheese Shop, the retail arm of a nationally respected gourmet cheese maker. A small selection of cheeses with the breads made for a great mid day meal, and the entire market is one of those tributes to eating that tend to make me loose my mind, skipping about with glee like a child, or some sort of escape from a mental institution/weight loss clinic.
We had another great meal on our last day during an excursion deep into Marin county, the area just North of San Francisco across the Golden Gate Bridge. Fairfax, a small town tucked in the hills of the county Northwest of San Rafael, is home to a small and pleasant space called the Barefoot Cafe. The menu doesn't go much beyond a simple American and Mediterranean selection, and my party of four focused on hamburgers and sandwiches. But each item was crafted with care and ingredients not often found in similar joints elsewhere in the country. Even the side salads consisted of crisp micro greens and excellent whole radishes, going beyond the typical browning and iceberg lettuce and pale tomato slices that usually accompanies lunches. The Barefoot Cafe embodies the spirit of bay area cuisine, where the time taken in selecting and preparing ingredients elevates even the most basic dishes to something special, making the region a top priority travel destination for anyone who loves to eat.

San Francisco Bound

Tomorrow morning I leave for San Francisco, where I hope to eat myself silly. San Fran is an epicenter of much of today's high quality food, from good things like the Slow Food movement to the ugly, like ridiculously self righteous vegan restaurants (food can be free of animal product and still taste good guys). I am almost worried we'll show up and not know where to begin, going into the wrong restaurants and ordering the wrong thing. The expedition will be fully recorded and reported here, success or failure.

Resturant Review

I intended to do a restaurant review for this second post, and after giving it some thought, realized I have no idea where to begin. In all honesty I do not read many restaurant reviews. I'll poke at websites like citysearch to get some ideas, but tend to leave that site suspicious of the authors and with the taint of adspeak in my mouth. Zagat's Guide, a reviewing standard has become so stuck in its methods that the entires are not helpful at all.
I can't really speak to any format, but I know the star ratting, as made famous by Michelin is one of the most popular systems. One to five stars may be a simple, neat metric for rating a restuarant, but what do you really learn from this information? If it is so efficiant how come it isn't used in everyday interaction? 'How was your day at work? Two Stars. How you doin? 3 Stars. What's the weather like? 1 star.' If someone talked to you that way you'd at the very least stop asking for their opinion. At the worse you would poisin their drink, bury the body in someone else's yard, and go to be feeling you made the world a better place. Beyond the announce factor the star system doesn't seem to pay much attention to the type of restuarant. Should a gourmet restaurant requiring a reservation one month in advance be judged on the same scale as the take out Chinese joint around the corner. Both are important for entirely different reasons and represent completely different meals, making the same star system useless.
So instead of writing a review I am going to first establish how I review, set a standard which I hopefully can stick to in the future. All day long I break game concepts into their basic elements, summarize what they offer, identify the strong and weak elements, and note how it compares to whats been done before. What's good for games is good for grubs, so my reviews should at least cover the same steps. Here's the scaffolding for my opinions.
The What: Where is the resturuant, what type of food it offers, and any little amusing anecdotes about its history. I believe the context and company make a meal as much as the cooking, so including what kind of crowd accompanies me is crucial to defining the experience. What we ordered, and how much it all cost should be included as well.
Ambiance: More pertinacious than 'vibe'? You do decide. While I could get bogged down and design, lighting, blah, blah, blah what this really comes down to is how the place looks and feels.
Service: This subject could fill several posts on its own, so we'll just leave it as good or bad.
Menu: What the menu has to offer, and how well it is presented. Does it make sense? Other stuff I need to think about.
Food: What it all comes down to. What I ate and how was it.
Overall: This is the fast answer

Eat 'Till I'm Dead

I spend my days writing about video games, and a good deal of my free time thinking about them. In an effort to get some variety out of my life, I am trying to write about the one thing I spend just as much time with; food. I love food, and have the build to prove it('Jolly' is the preferred way of describing myself). So I've staked out this little corner of the Internet to spew forth thoughts on all things gastronomic, from eating out and preparing meals at home, to all media concerned with food to deep, overstuffed philosophies on what filling one's pie hole has to do with the human condition.

The title is inspired by fois gras, a delicacy I have yet to enjoy, though wish to pursue. Fois gras is the liver of force fed ducks and geese, a big, rich, fatty treat often used in French cuisine. The birds are force fed for the last two weeks of their life via a metal tube shoved down their throats at meal time. While the method does sound cruel and deserves a serious ethical debate, the concept of eating one's self to death has a certain romantic appeal for a fat bastard like myself. Should I ever catch a terminal ailment, I will most likely pursue an epic quest to consume great food until my body gives out, preempting whatever nasty condition I may suffer from. I understand that a life of excess could lead to such a fatal condition, but it still sounds like a way to check out to me. Until next week, cheers.