Food Tour of Iowa

Shutting down this blog

2009-05-04T19:30:00.001-07:00

Hey everyone-

I have migrated this blog over to wordpress. It will still be available etc, just click here.

Downtown Farmers Market

2009-05-03T10:46:00.000-07:00

First of the season!

Say what you want about Iowans, but don't say that they lack appreciation for the Spring and Summer. Around this time the entire landscape seems to erupt with joyous celebration for the warmer climes. Tulips erupt out of the ground like rockets, barbeques are lit with haste and Iowans look forward to the agriculture on display at the market.

Such was the case this Saturday at the first official Downtown Des Moines Farmers Market, held in DSM's Court Avenue district. As you can see, the courthouse presided over the masses of people who came out to see the (admittedly meager) offerings of the farmers after such a cold and depressing winter.

However, come out they did, and the farmers market tried its hardest. LIve musicians played at corners and a variety of food vendors were on hand, including quite a few of my friends.

My first stop was to the Niman Ranch booth, where Larry Cleverly was handling the grill- cooking some delicious Niman sausages, bacon and chops which he fed to Jim, my FM companion, and myself. Dripping with grease and hot off the grill they were the perfect way to start a day.

From there, we drifted down to the booth of La Mie, my favorite bakery (ever) where they were selling sumptuous pastries and delectable savories, such as the baguettes pictured above. Bonus: I got to shake the hand of Joe Logsdon, the amazing baker behind the flour power of La Mie. I don't think I will wash that hand ever again; it was like talking to a demigod of the baking world.

Just down the road Lois Reichert, the wonderful woman behind Reichert's Dairy Air goat cheese dairy, was selling her cheese. Actually, business was pretty dull when I got there. She had sold out of all of her flavored chevre's, her robiola and her feta. All that remained was a culinary joy ride: a coffee infused chevre topped with a chocolate ganache. It was delish though, and we had a fun time catching up. She is looking forward to the end of the kidding season: her goats have been popping kids out gangbuster style: she recently had to deliver quintuplets! Let me relate to you a notable exchange:

Lois: So far the most interesting thing I have learned how to do is to dilate a cervix manually
Me: Wow!
Lois: It wasn't that hard- just common sense really.

I will keep that in mind the next time I see a cervix in need of dilation- I will just use my common sense.

While I focused my attention mainly on my friends among the farmers, there were a variety of wonderful restaurants. including the above Salvadorean place. They had a link at least 20 people long for the duration of the market, as they churned out papusas and canele (I think thats the name): fried plantain covered with sweetened condensed milk and raisins. I didn't have one, but they looked good!

Jams were well represented- this lady had at least 20 types, if not more!

Des Moines does not lack for amazing Indian, as Saloo's showed. Jim told me that they have been an installation since the first market. Everything looked fresh fresh fresh!

Equally authentic were the pastries on display at the booth of the Strudl Haus in Altoona (www.strudlhaus.com). They had a variety of Austrian style pastries that hearkened me back to Berlin. Frequent readers will remember that I believed the Northern countries (Denmark and Germany) to have the superior pastry making style, and Strudl Haus' wares reminded me that I do favor those hearty dense concoctions, jammed with berries.

Less authentic, but no less delicious, was the assembly line of Farmboy burritoes. As you can see, proud Iowans cooked huge pans of eggs, bacon, potatoes and sausages to keep up with the insatiable breakfast burrito demands of block-long line of hungry Farmers Market patrons.

My friend Boonie, upper left, looked at the double pans of bacon, a wistful look in his eyes.

With the farmers market winding down around 12:30, Jim and I adjourned to Centro, one of my fave places in the city. George Formaro, thew owner, pioneered an 850 degree pizza oven in this upscale Italian joint. I could taste the difference in the amazing pizza margherita I had.

George started his career as a baker, and he grasps the fundamental importance of a great crust. The pizza was basically incredibly good bread, that he been zazzed up with some excellent fresh mozzarella, delectable tomatoes (not too much!) and a sprinkle of fresh basil. The crust was crispy, delicious and overall FLAVORFUL. All pizza makers should take note: a flavorful and crisp crust is everything! The toppings are just enhancements! Take care of the crust first, and then a delicious pizza will follow.

As you can see, the pizza was the best type of simple: good ingredients, unadorned, produced a superior pie.

Simplicity was not the name of the game for the Kill Bill sandwich. Bill Overdyke, the executive chef of Centro, had pioneered this sandwich for a, lets just say different type of gourmet. Whereas I prefer the simple elegance of the Pizza Margherita, some prefer this:

On top of a delicious bun was a breaded and fried pork tenderloin, shaved Niman Ranch ham, bacon, pepper-jack cheese and an egg. All together, these things were too busy- it had no cohesion. As Jim and I discussed, the sandwich was best when pared down into 3 separate meals. It was an amazing tenderloin sandwich, a great ham and cheese and superb bacon and eggs. Together? Not so much. I can't say I was a fan. The wait staff all seemed to adore it though, and gave me suspicious looks when I professed my love of the Margherita instead. They gave me looks as if to say, "We have a traitor in our midst".

Is it World War 1 all over again?

2009-04-25T14:40:00.000-07:00

Jim Duncan, my good friend, has recently posted a good bit about the causes of the swine flue outbreak in Mexico.

Although the facts are hardly in yet, he cites a report from a firm called Veratect, which maps outbreaks for clients like WHO and the CDC. From the report:

"They believed that the farms, operated by Granjas Carroll, polluted the atmosphere and local water bodies, which in turn led to the disease outbreak. "

I have a hard time believing that some of the blame for this cannot be laid at the feet of factory farm, with their well-documented scarcity of hygenic oversight.

I look forward to see what this outbreak does to cleanliness on hog farms.

Niman Ranch

2009-04-18T19:24:00.000-07:00

I enjoy farm visits. I love tromping through the fields, seeing where the ingredients which I use to cook everyday are grown, that kind of thing. But what I enjoy the most is meeting the farmers. I have yet to meet a farmer who hasn't embraced me immediately as their best friend, piling my car with food.

The Willis', who are the founders of Niman Ranch Pork Company, took this hospitality and friendliness to a whole other level.

I should have known this; I have heard from numerous sources that Paul Willis, the orginal founder, was "a really great guy" who, I was assured by multiple people, I would love. I unfortunately did not get to meet Paul, but I had a fortuitous meeting with his equally-generous daughter Sarah at an event in Des Moines, which culminated with one of the most pleasant farm visits I have participated in.

I should start off with some history of Niman Ranch and what it means to be their "pork company". Niman Ranch retails a variety of meats and products; all sorts of beef, lamb and pork. Their business model is based off of helping small farmers, who sell their product (which must be raised in accordance with the tenets of Niman Ranch) to Niman. Niman then transports it and retails it to stores like Whole Foods and Trader Joes.

So to say Paul Willis "founded" the Niman Ranch Pork company is a bit disingenuous. Really, as Sarah explained to me, it was more of a bet that Paul had with Bill Niman. Bill was, at the time, getting his pork from a small farmer in Northern California. At a party the two men met and (allegedly) Paul attested that his pork was better than whatever Bill was getting. Paul followed through and mailed some of the pork from his farm out to Bill, who was forced to agree: Iowa pork is the best. And thus Iowa became pork central for Niman Ranch, and eventually much of the United States.

Paul and his farming practices fit naturally into the Niman umbrella. Paul had been pioneering free-range farming for a long time before he met Bill and was, like many Iowans, a sensible individual: he didn't think it was right to add antibiotics straight into the pig's food. Free range farming, without antibiotics, is now a cornerstone of the philosophy that all 620 pork farmers in Iowa who produce for Niman must follow. And it all started with Paul.

So, needless to say, I was excited on the ride to Thornton, where the Willis' still live. Along for the ride I had my esteemed friend Jim Duncan, who instead of being a deadbeat college student avoiding work, is an actual writer. We spent the time discussing, as are wont to do, food.

After a few wrong turns we arrived at the picturesque farm where it had all started. The farm was probably much improved by what was becoming one of the finest days I have yet encountered in Iowa: sunny, clear as a bell and warm. Sarah welcomed us warmly and showed us around the farmhouse, which was once the Willis' home but has now become a dedicated set of offices.

We walked around the interior, oohing and aahing at the pictures of chefs (signed) and the map on the wall which showed, via push pin, the locations of the numerous small farmers which comprise Niman Ranch's pork producers. We talked for a long time about NR's policies, but it really can be summed like this: the pigs raised by the Willis' only have one bad day in their life. And they are working on making even that day better. Sarah ushered Jim and I out back to demonstrate with a live example.

My first question, when I saw the fields where the pigs are raised, was how the pigs didn't run away. From a distance the fields simply look like a collection of cozy aluminum sheds. When I got closer, I realized that all that was needed to keep the pigs in was one length of electric wire strung about 12 inches off the ground. Why would the pigs want to go anywhere anyway?

It was peaceful out on the fields. The sows laid happily in their sheds, nursing adorable litters of piglets. We walked around quietly, simply observing the pigs in their element. Piglets ran around, while the mothers would occasionally run around playing with them as well. Although I have heard of pigs as some of the more ornery animals, I realized that these pigs at least did not conform to that image.

Sarah explained to me, as we quietly, reverently almost, strolled among the pigs, that their pigs are different. All piglets of a certain cohort are raised together, so that they were all of about the same age. For example, all the pigs (not the sows) in each enclosure were of an age. Pigs are social animals; this structure lets them thrive. Additionally Niman does not dock their pigs' tail nor cut their teeth. Normally this is done so as to prevent pigs from biting each others tails. It turns out that this is only necessary when the pigs are stressed: Niman Ranch pigs need no such treatment.

As you can see, the pigs seemed more concerned with scratching themselves in the beautiful Iowa sunshine than being aggressive. I approve.

Even the piglets roam around fearlessly; they were absolutely adorable!

This free-range lifestyle translates into better meat: happy pigs, apparently, do make better pork. The breeds of pigs used (farmers hybrid and berkshire)are more hearty and also more fatty than the lean "other white meat" pig varieties used by factory farm producers, such as Hormel. These pigs develop meat that is full of intramuscular fat from a life full of frolicking.

Each sow gets her own enclosure, which is filled with straw.

The sows felt free, after a while, to frolic with their little piglets in our presence.

At length, we were getting cold and Sarah took us over to the "dream farm", where her father Paul and mother Phyllis live currently. Paul, unfortunately, was in California, but Phyllis was generous and kind enough for any 5 people. The reason it is called the dream farm, by the way, is because it is surrounded by 140 acres of virgin prairie. The Willis' had just finished burning it, but already shoots of wildflowers were poking through. I can only imagine how beautiful it is during the summer, when Phyllis and Paul can sit on their porch, listen to the frogs in the pond and the chickens in the yard, while the fireflies dance about the flowers. Amazing, I am sure.

Phyllis' chickens, like their pigs, are also free-range. As you can see, they make their nests everywhere. When we went for a ride in that truck later, we first removed 2 eggs.

It really was a magical visit. I don't think I have ever met people who live their own philosophies as effortlessly at the Willis' do. I hope they, and Niman Ranch, continue to thrive.

Free Range Trichinosis? Hardly!

2009-04-12T07:57:00.001-07:00

In an op-ed published on April 9, 2009 in the New York Times, entitled “Free Range Trichinosis” , James McWilliams argues that free-range pork is more likely than conventionally farmed pork to carry diseases and parasites such as salmonella, toxoplasma and trichina. Additionally, he argues that confinement farming is based on tenets of animal husbandry; that is, that raising animals indoors, fighting their diseases with medicine and feeding them carefully monitored diets produces meat that is “more reliably available, safer to eat and consistently flavored”. He concludes that we “should not be deterred from realizing that…instead of setting the animal partially free, we might have to take greater control of it”.

However, McWilliams’ piece is misleading at best and false at worst. While he is correct in noting that there are higher incidences of salmonella, toxoplasma and trichinosis in free-range pigs, he glosses over the dangers of methicillin resistant staphylococcus aureus (MRSA) in confinement-raised pork. Additionally, he plays the “responsible animal husbandry” card, asserting that modern pork farming has given us more reliable sources of cheaper meat with more consistent flavor by “raising animals indoors, fighting their diseases with medicine and feeding them a carefully monitored diet”. He glosses over the worst aspects of factory farming, instead referring to a utopian confinement farming system that does not exist in this country.

McWilliams’ first piece of evidence that free-range pork is more dangerous is a piece from the journal Foodborne Pathogens and Disease. The article studied 600 pigs in North Carolina, Ohio and Wisconsin and found increased levels of salmonella, toxoplasma and trichina. While I could not find the article he mentions, I do not choose to dispute these findings; I will accept that free-range pigs are exposed to more vectors and therefore may have higher incidences of parasites or bacteria. However, this evidence is immaterial for two reasons. The first is that both types of pigs carry these pathogens: really, there is a 50% chance that a free-range pig has salmonella versus a 40% chance a confinement-raised pig has the same pathogen. In either case, the exposure risk to salmonella is large-if the person hasn’t used appropriate food handling procedures! For both types, the pork must be cooked and cross-contamination limited- as all food should be. Secondly, the three pathogens he mentions are not particularly hazardous. Sure, it is unpleasant to get salmonella (which causes some decidedly unpleasant symptoms for 4-7 days) or trichinosis (which causes you to feel decidedly anti-social for 4-6 months). However, in both of these cases proper food handling procedures reduce the risk to negligible levels. In the case of trichinosis, the danger is far more real if you are handling game. The Center for Disease control reports that from 1997-2001, there were only 12 cases per year of trichinosis, and that “it was less commonly associated with pork products and more often associated with eating raw or undercooked game meats” (1). And as for toxoplasma? You are more likely to get that by cleaning your cats litter box and failing to wash your hands than from a pork chop. Therefore, this claim is dismissible due to the prevalence of these pathogens in both types of pork, as well as the relative harmlessness of the threats they present.

However, what McWilliams does not discuss is the prevalence of MRSA in confinement-farmed pigs. Nicholas Kristof, in two superb pieces in the Times entitled “Pathogens in Our Pork” and “Our Pigs, Our Food, Our Health” exposes the danger and prevalence of MRSA in confinement-farmed pork. The reason MRSA is so scary is that- as its name suggests- it is resistant to the primary types of antibiotics we use in our hospitals. This resistance is largely due to irresponsible use of antibiotics in pig feed (which I will discuss later). In the US, 18,000 people per year are killed by MRSA. Now, they were not infected through pork consumption (and indeed, the link between eating pork and getting MRSA has not been proven), but the prevalence of a unique strain of MRSA (called ST398) that appears solely on confinement pork farms is growing. In addition, confinement-raised pork is more likely to have other bacteria, like salmonella, that are antibiotic resistant.

In his article, Kristof relates the anecdote of townspeople in Camden, Indiana contracting “pimples from hell”, which turned into lesions “as big as saucers”. Tom Anderson, a doctor in the community, sent cultures off to the lab that identified the culprit as MRSA. Before Kristof could interview the doctor in person, Anderson died of a heart attack-possibly caused by MRSA. The prevalence of this ST398 is growing. A University of Iowa epidemiologist found 45% of farmers tested (and 49% of hogs) carried this strain of MRSA.

So if free-range pork has more salmonella, it must have more MRSA, right? Wrong. In an article entitled “Antimicrobial Susceptibility of Foodborne Pathogens in Organic or Natural Productions Systems”, the authors examine the antibiotic resistance of multiple types of pathogens in conventional versus organic or natural production systems. Now, free-range, while not necessarily organic, oftentimes is, and free-range pork rarely receives antibiotics du jour, as conventional pork does. Therefore, I will conclude that the results are, for the most part, applicable. In the study, the authors find a statistically significant difference between conventional and free-range pork: prevalence of antibiotic resistant bacteria (including E. Coli, salmonella and campylobacter) was much lower in free-range pork- oftentimes stunningly so. The author concludes that, while “the associations were not always observed, they were rarely reversed”.

This leads into my final rebuttal against McWilliams’ article: that raising animals indoors, fighting their diseases with medicine and feeding them a carefully monitored diet is a good thing, because it makes pork more reliably available, safer to eat and consistently flavored. I have 2 main arguments against this. Firstly, those methods are rarely followed by big “factory farm” producers, and secondly, that the “benefits” of such farming are actually positive. He preempts my argument by stating that “the critique of conventional animal farming is right on the mark”; however, he is being disingenuous through the rest of the article when he fights against free-range pork farmers and fails to mention the atrocities of factory farms.

As the ever-formidable Kristof notes, 70% of all antibiotics go to animal feed for healthy livestock- causing this explosion in resistant strains of bacteria. Legislation to block the non-therapeutic use of antibiotics in feed has been blocked by agribusiness interests. Now, as I mentioned, free-range pork could still technically add antibiotics to feed. However, free-range pork is often organic, which means they cannot. In addition, even non-organic farmers, such as Iowa Farm Families, will not sell pork that has been given antibiotics under their label; pigs that are treated are noted and sold under a different brand. Generally, free-range farmers are more responsible than their more monopolistic brethren, and forgo the use of antibiotics. Therefore, I feel confident linking the superior safety of organic foods to free-range pork as well.

Finally, the benefits of this system (more reliable supply of consistently flavored and cheap pork) are not really benefits. You know what else is consistent and cheap? McDonalds. This is a normative statement, but I like my pork to be meaty, with a unique flavor, and even a little unusual. It’s true! While the benefits of more unique heirloom and free-range pork varieties, while existent, are beyond the scope of this article, I would direct you to an excellent Times article on the same topic.

In conclusion, McWilliams’ article misses the point. He over exaggerates the dangers of diseases that are easily prevented and treated, and ignores the dangers of antibiotic resistant strains of bacteria such as MRSA, E. Coli and salmonella which are not. Additionally, he cites the “more is better” argument: that we shouldn’t complain that we can now get more pork more cheaply. I think we need to return to a time where we didn’t spend so indiscriminately, and took quality over quantity.

Spring Break: Chez Panisse

2009-04-07T19:03:00.000-07:00

My trip to Chez Panisse

The sun was in my eyes!

The menu

Chino ranch leek salad with egg and mustard flower vinegarette

Dungeness crab and lobster ravioli in herb broth.

Spit roasted Becker Lane ranch pork loin and braised belly.

Crepe suzette

If you aren't planning on attending Cochon 555, why not?

2009-04-05T12:27:00.000-07:00

After I interviewed Brady Lowe, the man behind Cochon 555, I realized I had no idea where to find the tenderloin on a butchered pig. What is this Cochon 555? And what does that have to do with tenderloins? Let me explain.

On April 19th, 5 local chefs from Des Moines will be provided with 5 heritage pigs (one each) and then asked to prepare the whole pig, every part, for a crowd of 200-plus hungry Iowans. 5 family-owned winemakers produce wines for this porcine feast. All the proceeds for the Des Moines event go to support the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. This sounds simple, and it is, but I believe it can have a profound effect in changing the attendees into consumers who engage with their food purveyors to find out the full story behind their food.

Competing in Cochon, Des Moines version, we have a star-studded line up of some of my favorite chefs: Andrew Meek (Sage), Matt Steigerwald (Lincoln Café), Jamie Monaghan (The Embassy Club), Tag Grandgeorge (Le Jardin) and Bill Overdyke (Centro). All of these noble competitors are top notch and will churn out a feast that will shock and awe those who are unfamiliar with their work.

I have always considered myself to be a fairly enlightened gourmet. I can tell you the difference between free range and organic chicken, I support family farms and I say things like, “I deplore the commoditization of food”. But my conversation with Brady made me realize how much I could learn, and how much his event, with its emphasis of education and outreach, can teach our society, not about what we eat, but where it comes from and how it is raised- the “story” behind our food, if you will.

Cochon is more than just an excuse to (pardon me; I can’t resist) pig out on some good food. As Brady Lowe explained to me on the phone the real goal of the event is to educate the attendees (whether they be experienced gourmets or someone who just loves food) about the importance of engaging with the farmer behind that pork tenderloin, steak or chicken breast.

All the pigs for the event are “heritage” varieties from small, family owned farms- a stark contrast to the pork in most grocery stores; shrink wrapped and bearing a label from “Hormel” or some other monolithic producer of commoditized, flavorless meat. Heritage pigs are lesser-known varieties, which are not as widely raised, generally because they do not bulk up as quickly, which reduces the meat yield relative to investment. However, oftentimes they are much more delicious, as these varieties will be. Mr Lowe hopes that the exposure to the succulently tender, flavorful and healthy pork that comes from these rapidly disappearing varieties of hog will show the audience the importance of engaging with food and finding out its story: where it came from, how it lived and how it got to the plate. In the end, he hopes to expand this dialogue between consumers and producers.

This vision comes is particularly evident in the chef selection process. Practicing what the he preaches, Mr Lowe explained that the three main criteria are that the chefs have an “in house pig program”, that they source food from local farms (“For protein and produce”) and that the chefs are ambassadors to the community. In house pig programs, if you do not know, are the procedures and equipment that allow chefs to take an entire pig and break it down into manageable pieces, as well as create some of the finest products of the butchers art- pates and other charcuterie. Generally, the presence of such a program is intimately linked with the other facets for which Mr Lowe looks.

Honestly, I cannot recommend this event enough. Is there anything not to love about it? Great food, a good cause and wine: what more encouragement do you need to go to their site (www.amusecochon.com) and buy a ticket as soon as you read this?

Applecart Orchards: Vinton, Iowa

2009-04-03T20:13:00.000-07:00

Quick: how many different varieties of apples can you name in 10 seconds? I'll try as well.

Golden Delcious

Red Delicious

Gala

Braeburn

Fuji

Pink Lady

And...stop. How many did I get, 6? And I know my apples. Over at Applecart Orchards, Allen Isreal grows over 35 varieties of apples-from standards like red delicious and gala's to more esoteric varieties, such as arkansas black and blushing goldens. That isn't all his 35 acres contains though- he also manages to grow 4 varieties of peaches and 7 varieties of pears (of those, he has 5 different varieties of asian pears). Even the winter is no barrier to biological diversity over at Applecart. In his 2 greenhouses he grows 7 or 8 different varieties of lettuce, esoteric vegetables (kohlrabi, bak choi) and more tomatoes than I could even imagine. Allen didn't brag about the orchard of eden he has created on his small farm in Vinton, just west of cedar rapids, although as I strolled around the orchard, I could feel his pride in the variety by which he was surrounded.

I should back up and mention the mechanism by which I met Allen: at a winter farmers market Iowa City. When I walked by his orchard's stand, I was dazzled by the array of apples. As I talked to him, I realized that he was a man who knew, not just the names of his apples, but the flavors as well. When I asked him about what type of apple to get, he peppered me with questions like "Do you like sweet or tart apples?" and "How do you feel about _______" where the blank would, invariably, be an off the road variety which I barely knew. As I left, I was sure to snag his card, confident that the hour and a half drive to Vinton would be worth it, even if he didn't have any more than the 6 or 7 varieties of apples he had with him that day.

Anyway, when I arrived at the farm last Thursday I was not disappointed. He took me briefly through the store, which also houses an apple sorter and a cider press, in the back. In the storage room he asked me what type of apple I would like, red delicious or blushing golden, and I grabbed the latter. And thus, chomping happily on the fruit (I later found out it had been in storage since october-some apples are still good up to a year later with careful storage) we walked into the greenhouse, which contained the aforementioned sprouts of various lettuces, tomatoes, herb and vegetables.

Above: The apple sorter. It sorts apples.

In the warm, humid air of the greenhouse Allen explained the variety of lettuces he was growing, along with well informed editorials about their flavor. I was amazed he could even remember the names of all the plants, let alone their culinary qualities. He showed me a few new varieties he was trying; mostly exotics like kohlrabi, red bak choi and sweet basil (also called thai basil). Multiple times, he invited me to grab a little seedling and bite the top of it off to taste a particularly unique flavor. it was a grand old time.

Above: Tons of lettuce! Or at least tons of lettuce sprouts. Note the variety.

Above: A tender shoot of red romaine lettuce, just before I popped it into my mouth. Nom nom nom!

As we exited the greenhouse and walked through the rows of gnarled apple trees, he talked about the pruning process; something about which I now very little. Allen is a very careful pruner, removing the older branches so as to allow the tree as much sunlight as possible, which produces better fruit. This careful pruning also pays off: the trees last longer. A tree, he explained, is only as old as its wood. By pruning carefully, so that the branches are quite young (3 or 4 years old, on average) he extended the lifespan of his trees to about 25. He doesn't think much of this. However, I happen to remember that Hinegardner's Orchards expects its trees to last 15 years at the maximum.

Above: Allen Isreal explains the dynamics of pruning and apple production. He is a wonderful teacher; full of interesting facts, he understatedly imparted knowledge to me during the entire tour.

Above: a row of pruned apple trees. They look sad now, but they will be happy come summer, when the Sun's warming rays reach all the leaves.

Above: an un-pruned apple tree.

As we walked slowly towards the end of the orchard, we passed a pet project of his, 3 rows of asparagus. Strolling back, he talked about the health of his trees in relationship to this year's winter. It was particularly bad, he said, and had reached temperatures of around 35 below zero in the orchard. While his apple trees were mostly fine, none of his peaches (which are only good to -25 degrees) would be producing fruit that year- if it gets to cold the tree spends its energy repairing, not producing.

On the other side of the greenhouses he showed me another work in progress: the pears. He has 5 varieties of asian pears, with names like Golden Olympic (that type I remember; he said it tasted lightly of caramel). In addition, he has 2 varieties of normal pears.

I left, slightly disappointed I had not discovered this array of fruitly pleasure earlier. I would have gorged myself on tomatoes, lettuce, pears, apples and peaches, as well as loaded my car full to bursting. As it is, he can expect to see me at his booth, come summer.

San Francisco Trip-Spring Break 2009

2009-03-25T20:53:00.000-07:00

During the middle weekend of my two week spring break, my Dad and I took a culinary road trip up to the Bay Area, where we dined at Chez Panisse. However, that was not the best meal we had; not by a lpong shot. Rather, my Dad's friend JB (below) whipped the best meal of the trip up.

Here, you can see him slaving over his cippolini onions. These are special italian onions, which JB tends obsessively for 4 hours while they are simmered in beef stock. As the stock level dips down, more broth is added, always only going halfway up the onion, which is wide and flat. As the onions cook they are saturated, more than I would believe possible, with the thick, rich taste of a beef demi-glace. They were by far my favorite part of the meal; an unbelievable accompaniment.

For appetizers, some hummus and pita bread appeared.

Everyone knew that the real start was going to be the spit roasted prime rib. JB rubbed it lovingly with salt, pepper and mustard before piercing it through with the spit in preparation for the barbeque.

He is very proud of it.

Here JB (right) posed with my dad (left) after we put the prime rib on the grill for its hour and a half long revolving ordeal.

It came out beautifully. The crust crisped up beautifully, creating the elegant roast which all prime rib lovers crave.

We sliced into its delicious pink interior and plated it next to some of JB's heart bustingly so-good-but-so-bad-for-me twice baked potatoes.

For desert, we went to the James Beard ward winning bakery Tartine, where we bought a chocolate hazelnut tart (front left), blackberry tart (middle right) and banana creme pie (back left.

The meal just knocked me out of the park; honestly. It had everything one wants in a meal. Great food, great old friends.

Spring Break 2009: Sushi Gen, Los Angeles

2009-03-17T16:22:00.000-07:00

During spring break, my friend Chris and I decided to get some nice sushi. We normally head over to Studio City when a sushi craving hits, to a place called Midori. They offer a really affordable all you can eat that has some delicious sushi and really fun rolls.

I will admit it- I love a good roll. Sushi Gen offers no such things. Here, you will find only the most traditional edo style sushi, as well as other japanese dishes which we did not try. I do not remember the names of everything, but I can describe the taste of all.

Sushi Gen is located in Little Tokyo, in downtown LA.

When we walked in, we knew that they were serious people. The bar was sparklingly clean, and there 9 (I counted!) chefs behind the bar preparing sushi only. The rest of the cookery was handled in back.

I think this was mackerel. It was pretty good- honestly though, it was not the best piece. It wasnt a great start.

Salmon is my favorite type of sushi, and the beautiful pieces they served at Gen more than made up for the sub-par mackerel. You can see the gorgeous marbling in one direction, but if you look REALLY closely, so can see the individual muscle fibers with the fat running in glistening strands along the side. Needless to say, this was great. It had the creamy, unctuous flavor which all salmon lovers crave.

Next, we called for the king of sushi: prime otoro. Otoro is the meat from the belly of the tuna fish, when the fish is at its most slothful and fatty. As you can see, it is thickly marbled and very fatty.

I was glad I tried this, but not overwhelmed. It had good flavor, but I cannot say I loved the texture- it was a little odd.

Their unagi (eel) was incredible though. It was like they had plated damn near the entire eel- the sushi was huge! It was at least 5 inches of delctable unagi, and the sauce, which can sometimes be cloying or overwhelming, was just perfect. Probably my favorite.

Great story: as we were eating the eel sushi, a chef holds up two large, wriggling shrimp. Chris and I immediately yell that we want those! The chef kills the shrimp, peels them and plates the shrimp. Fresh as can be.

And that wasn't all! We then ate the crispy fried head of the departed shrimp. The head, in my opinion, was better than the body- it had a great crunch to it, due to the exoskeleton.

I think this was albacore- nothing special.

I forget what this was- we asked the chef for his favorite, and he gave us this. It was completely forgettable.

Some excellent hawaiian king mackerel. Silky and smooth.

We ended the night by splitting the monkfish liver- by FAR the best. It tasted like rich, delicious pate or foie- just amazing.

Overall, I really liked Gen. My friend and I disagree, but in mu opinion I will stick to Midori, my all you can eat place. I didn't feel like this was that much better. Or maybe I just can't taste the difference.

Spring Break 2009: Sunday night JJ's Run!

2009-03-17T16:10:00.000-07:00

At 10:30 Sunday night, my friends Chris and Haley, as well as myself headed to our favorite Hong Kong style cafe in Monterey park: JJ's.

They are pretty much always open; to my knowledge they close for about 3 hours-from 4Am to 7AM.

We got there by 11: just in time to order from their special 11PM-4AM menu.

We had some pork and preserved egg congee: rice porridge. Like everything I have ever had at JJ's, it was delicious. The pork was all at the bottom, but once we stirred that up it was a perfect porridge. Just the thing to put meat on one's bones.

With the porridge came some chow fun. Now, all of JJ's noodle dishes are just wonderful: they come out in something like 2 minutes after ordering, steaming, blisteringly hot from the pan. I do prefer the chow fun with beef, but the order above was good as well. The chow fun (the thick noodles) have the nice elasticity that I crave from a chow fun.

Haley ordered her personal favorite: the fried rice with seafood and smelt roe. A heaping pile of rice, it contains scallops, shrimp, egg and all sorts of other greasy deliciousness.

Haley, like a champ, wasted no time in digging in.

And no trip to JJ's would be complete without some milk tea: tea with condensed milk. Nom nom nom!

Spring Break 2009: Sunday Dinner

2009-03-17T16:06:00.001-07:00

My family loves cooking; I thought I would show you what a typical Sunday dinner at our house looks like.

We started off with some Iberian shepherds cheese; a hard sheeps milk cheese, traditionally served with a type of cherry jam.

My Dad and I had been to the farmers market earlier, where we bought some golden beets (above). They would be roasted.

In an intriguing turn, there was a man selling salads with flowers in them at the same farmers market. It turned out to be delicious; some of the freshest, crispest salad greens I have ever had. Plus, flowers!

For the main course, my Mom whipped together a pasta with roasted tomatoes and asparagus. A little bit of olive oil, and we had a perfect spring pasta.

Spring Break 2009: Paella at the beach

2009-03-15T11:51:00.000-07:00

Spring Break 2009: My farewell to Des Moines

2009-03-15T11:39:00.000-07:00

Spring Rolls with Shrimp

Vietnamese Coffee

Pho Ha Dao: Pho with beef tendon, brisket, meatballs and beef eye round. I ordered the beef raw, and on the side (below)

Dinner: Namaste Indian

REALLY spicy peppers stuffed with lentils. Too hot to eat.

A dosa that must have been 18 inches long. A dosa is a crepe like thing, filled with potatoes and lentils. Along side was served sabmhar, a soup, and a ginger chutney.

Interior shot of the dosa. Note how crispy it is.

Onion kulcha: naan stuffed with onions and banked in a tandoori oven, and then smushes down.

Lamb vindaloo. Very yummy.

Spring Break! WOOOOO

2009-03-12T06:51:00.000-07:00

Time flies, doesn't it?

This Saturday, I will fly back to the sunny climes of Southern California, to absorb sun and companionship. Never fear, however, dear readers: I have these exciting items on my itinerary!
Restaurants:
-Excellent dim sum place
-Excellent HK style cafe
-Sushi!
-Fish taco place!
-Chez Panisse (WOO WOO)

And also, less we forget that I also love to cook, I will be working on the following culinary projects:
-Building my own smoker
-Making a paella on the beach (twice!)
-Grilling outdoors! Like a man!

Some thoughts on dining and companionship

2009-03-09T16:00:00.000-07:00

Overall, I would say I approve of Europe. It was a lot of fun; I saw incredible places, tasted excellent food, but most importantly I shared incredible experiences with two good friends. That is what I wanted to talk about in this post: not what was the best part of Europe culinarily, but rather some thoughts on what makes food good.

All the best food in the world means nothing if you do not enjoy the people with whom you are eating. In Europe, I had the fortune of dining with two old friends with whom I have shared many meals. Even with them though, I always felt myself wishing that (and still do, when eating a great meal) some other people could join me- my friends from home, my parents or others. I would always prefer to have a take-out burger with a good friend than Alinea alone.

That is why I am looking forward to Spring Break- catching up with old friends. The rest, as they say, is gravy.

Europe: Denmark

2009-03-08T15:25:00.000-07:00

****************
NOTE: This is part of an ongoing series of articles concerning my Europe trip. See below for links to the previous articles:

Zaragoza: Part 2 (Tapas!)

Zaragoza: Videos

San Sebastian (Pinxtos)

****************

And thus we left the Germanic confines of Berlin and hit the rails for the 7 hour ride over to Copenhagen, for the last stop on our pan European tour. It was a bit bittersweet, getting onto my last European train, knowing that my Eurail pass had served its purpose. However, I was defintely ready to go home; I was tired, smelly and pretty full.

However, the poignancy of the moment was shoved aside when I opened up sack containing the bagel I had bought before I departed in Berlin. I know what you may be thinking. That bagel? In a food blog? Was it really that good?

Yes.

Let me explain about this bagel sandwich. It was a wheat bagel with brie, arugula and cherry jam. Was it amazingly good? Yes. Yes it was. The brie was really good brie, the bagel had great chew, it was everything I wanted.

Dinner wasn't bad either. I do love a good lamb shank, and the one above, while unbelievably expensive, was what I wanted after a long day of travel. It was served in a sauce that was really, quite good. Probably better than the shank, honestly. I was a tidge disappointed when I pulled some of the meat off and the bone popped right out: I prefer to gnaw on them, much like a cavemen. It gets me in touch with my primitive, ape-like self.

Never one to pass up desert, I could not resist ordering the desert tapas platter. I think it was meant to be shared. I did not share. I wrote down everything, so here is a bulleted list:

Panna cotta
Chocolate fudge cake
Creme caramel
Chocolate Mousse
"chocolate ball"
Cookie (I kid you not; this is what it said under the description)
Passion fruit sorbet
A selection of mousses (in the middle)

Honestly, most of the stuff was emminently forgettable. The standouts were the passion fruit sorbet, which was perfect. It was incredibly fruity and smooth, and just had the tiniest ice granules that gave it character.

Above, you can see the selection of mousses which inhabited the center of the plate. They were OK.

All in all, I will be honest: Copenhagen's restaurants did not thrill me. I thought the food was overpriced and the quality mediocre at best. The same, however, could not be said for their bakeries. While expensive, the gooey, creamy and chocolately pastries they served up are among the best I have ever had.

Also, the bakeries are adorned with golden pretzels.

This was a custard croissant. Nothing special, but really good. It was merely a decoy for the real star..

...The cranberry muffin. Oh. My. God. Best muffin I have EVER had. Ever ever. The cranberries were tart, the top crispy and the middle was SO gooey. I think you can see it a little bit in the photo above. This muffin was an epiphany.

That day, we took a 15 minute rail trip to a small, typically Danish town called Roskilde, which holds the distinction of being the burial site of the Danish royal family as well as having one of the best museums I have ever been to: the Viking Ship Museum.

Also, they had a penchant for filling chocolate balls with creme.

See? I said they did!

After walking to the museum, we were awed by the ships. Not only do they have the remains of 5 ancient ships which sunk off the coast, they also have an ACTIVE VIKING SHIPYARD. They made a ship which they sailed around Ireland. In addition to that one, they have a large variety of smaller ships on which they take school children for daylong jaunts.

Kyle had been raving about the street hot dogs of Denmark for a long time; in Roskilde we sampled one for lunch. It was good, but the lack of a table made eating it, with its variety of toppings, quite challenging. However, it was a very good hot dog. Not the best, but good. It had a really great casing, which just "popped" with every bite.

This was a pastry. I honestly don't remember anything about it.

The next day we went to Carlsberg breweries for a tour. At the end, we found a completely empty tasting room. The two extremely kind bartenders plied with an amazing array of beers- my two companions sampled at least 10 types each. I was saving room for lunch, which we thought would be smorbrod; the open faced sandwiches which are Denmark's main culinary distinction.

Unfortunately, the place where we wanted to go was competely booked, and we had to settle for another place. I got a meatball smorsbrod and a beef tartar smorsbrod; they were OK. Honestly, I wasn't thrilled.

However, it was all worth it for that night. I had long been craving a "street waffle"- my term for a waffle from the street vendors of Europe. Something about their batter made these waffles unlike anything I have had in the states. The batter produced thick, meaty waffles. And the outsides almost tasted like there was caramelized sugar there.

So on my last night, Kyle and I walked up to a waffle vendor. I ordered a nutella and banana waffle. He started to prepare one that was already made. I interrrupted him, and asked for him to make one special. He hesitated, but under my insistent eyes made one.

Delicious.

And thus, I left Europe.

Europe: Berlin, Germany

2009-03-08T15:14:00.000-07:00

I was a little sad to leave Bordeaux. Germany would have a distinctive new culture, new langugage and all the trouble asociated with going to a new country.

It was so totally worth it however. Berlin is still comparatively cheap, and has some of the best food in Europe.

Yes, that's right: Berlin had the best food, on the whole, of anywhere I went in Europe.

Anyway, on to my trip:

After a very long train trip we arrived in Berlin. We disembarked on the Waschaerstrasse, which is one of the main streets in Berlin and the location of our Hostel, which was one of the bet in which we stayed on the trip. It is a testament to Berlin that the pastries which I bought at a street stand outside the train station were some of the best I have ever had.

We walked to our Hostel, dropped of our stuff, and decided we really weren't quite ready to go to bed, even though it was about midnight. So, considerably lightened, we left the hostel and pursued that whily temptress know as adventure.

We walked around our neighborhood and then stopped at a Pizza place.Pizza and beer? What better. I knew Germany had the best bier, but I didn't know about the pizza. I had good feelings though.

Tyrone and Kyle helped themselves to two icy cold beers from the cooler, which they cracked open on the bottle opener on the bar. They then slouched, happy and flushed with warmth and the promise of a good beer, towards the table, where I had seated myself after ordering two pizzas.

Our first was a pizza with arugula, prosciutto and fresh tomatoes. It was a really good tavern style pizza- stiff and crunchy crust, with good flavor. Even though it was a random pizza place in Berlin at midnight, it was one of the best pies I have ever had.

You can see from the second one (mushroom and pepperoni) that the crust was spectacular. Also, it was in a good hot oven, so the cheese and other toppings got good and crisp. Together it was a superb meal, an incredible welcome to the wonders of Berlin.

This was a rumkogel; I bought it on a bakery cart one the way out of the train station. It was about 2 inches in diameter, and squishy and dense. It tasted of rum and wonderfulness. It was a wonderful nightcap.

We woke up to face a day full of promise. We left our hostel, the sign for which you can see above, to wander into town. Our plan for the day was to walk the 1.5 miles into town, and from there tour the beauty of Berlin. But first, sustenance!

We walked into a delightful bakery, with, as you can see, a...plentiful selection of Ritter bars.

While I pondered my breakfast, I ordered a latte.

In Berlin, to my delight, they served all the lattes in tall clear glasses, which showcases the beautiful layering of a latte. I am also very happy to report that the barristas of the town could pull a very proper shot of espresso, as could every city in Europe.

For my breakfast, I selected a delightful spinach burek. A burek is an open-faced pastry, generally fried or baked, which can contain any number of things. Mine contained spinach and cheese. It was OK- not the best burek I have ever had, but it was fine. It lacked an overall flavor; the filling lacked a decisive punch that really makes or breaks ones burek experience.

Kyle and Tyrone went off together, walking quickly, while I opted for a more sedate walk into the center of town. As is my wont, I stopped by a small bakery and got some butter cake. It was everything I wanted from a German pastry and more. It was large and hearty; covered with delicious crumbly morsels of pastry and butter, which had soaked into the top. Down below the pastry was hearty and tough. This pastry was of the kind that make men large and blond; it sets you up for a serious day, during which you will invade Poland and, eh, why the hell not, continue into Russia.

One of the most endearing thing about Berlin- besides its prices, that is- are the colored bears that ornament the fronts of the larger stores. I am not really sure about the origin of this. A search on the internet shows it has something to do with "buddy bears"? I will let my intrepid and more interested readers delve into the mysteries.

Another endearing thing-you know, besides the huge beer bottles everywhere- was that they had lots of small "smart cars" advertising stuff. Mostly beer.

Tyrone liked to sit on the laps of statues. I have a picture of him riding a large iron turtle in Bordeaux. I hope he one days runs for public office so I can flood the internets with these pictures.

As teenage boys, we deeply appreciate cheap, large bottles of beer. Here, Tyrone and Kyle show their gratitude, as well as the overall sense of goodwill towards men that Berlin inspires.

It is an infectious feeling. The food is cheap, good and ample. There is tons to do and see. Our hostel was comfortable, and we had not killed each other yet. Berlin was by far my favorite city.

For lunch, had decided to go to a certain restaurant. We searched and searched and search, to no avail. We decided to go to the above: The Berliner Republic. We later found out this was the restaurant, but it had changed its name.

Despite other, more delicious sounding options, I went for the blood and liver sausage with potatoes and saurkraut. It was just fine- the only problem was that the sausages lacked that "OOMPH" that I do love. Their were definitely more subtle than I had been expecting, let me say that. I guess it is less that they were bad than that they let me down. The same could not be said for the entree chosen by Kyle and Tyrone: the Honorable Goering.

A thick length of delicious, smoky heart sausage laid on top of a bed of potatoes and saurkraut; the entirety covered in a beer sauce. It was really flavorful, and it just said, "Welcome to Berlin. We do not mess around with wurst." The sauce was rich, the saurkraut flavorful, and the sausage as big as a man.

However, no meal in Berlin could match that of Pasternak, a Russian restaurant in the Northern sector of Berlin. On a dark and snowy night, we trudged through the snow to the restaurant.

From the outside, it looked neat and tidy. On on side, the name of the retaurant was in Cyrillic lettering.

I walked in to find a beautiful relic of 1950's Russian Berlin. Vested waiters walked around, carrying towels over arms, while ladies and gentleman in furs talked quietly. Over the entirety, a live piano player traced out twinkling melodies. The overall sensual experience of the restaurant seduced me before I had even seated myself.

Upon seating, we were immediately served a small amuse bouche of salmon with creme, with a small dollop of persimmon chutney.

I perused the menu, and the decided on three delicious courses. Little did I know that they would be some of the best of the Europe trip.

I started out by sharing a blini platter with Kyle. It had, as you can see, four types: spinach, chicken, pork and smoked salmon. In every case, Pasternak's commitment to quality showed. The blini was fresh and hot; the filling had obviously been wrapped in the blini to order. The entire platter (which was at least 18 inches to a side) was strewn with persimmons and cloud berries. In the middle there was some creme fraiche, and another sauce that tasted strongly of ginger.

The salmon was a favorite of mine- it was really high quality salmon, and I added a dollop of creme fraiche to just make it perfect. In the other blini they used a heartier dough, but in this one they used a more subtle one, probably to allow the smoky flavor of the salmon to stand out.

The spinach blini were really good as well. Creamy, delicious spinach. I topped it with the ginger chutney.

For the next course, the process of ordering was as enjoyable as the dish. After I ordered the blini, I asked the waiter which he would reccomend of two dishes. "Well", he asked, "Do you HUNGER?", while clenching his fist and moving it upward. I answered that I was quite hungry. "The Skaroje" he answered, "It will fill the belly of even the most ravenous". I took his word, and was not disappointed.

The skaroje was essentially a hunters stew with winter vegetables; eggplants and potaotes mingled in a hearty stew with lamb, potatoes and eggplant, all baked under a dough "cap". When the dish came, the waiter popped it off expertly and served the stew inside, much like a bread bowl.

You can see above how the top of the stew served as a bread bowl for the steaming hot and hearty stew.

For desert, I had a delectable blini with almond paste inside and hot cherries on top. As you can see, it was also served with an ample assortment of persimmon and kiwi.

This was one of the best blini I have ever had- the blini itself was hot and crisp, while the inside was delectably flavorful. The entire mess was topped with great cherries, which just cemented the desert together.

You can see its innate deliciousness above. That is almond paste coming out of the inside.

Pasternak was, I think, my favorite restaurant of the trip. The ambiance, of the elegantly dressed waiters, cyrillic lettering and delicious food transported me back in time and place, to the Russian sector in the Cold War. It was amazing. So amazing, in fact, that we came back the next morning for breakfast.

We were glad we did.

I ordered the "assorted cheese platter" and a latte. As was standard in Berlin, the latte came in a clear glass, so one could see the beautiful dichotomy between the esperesso and the steamed milk. My platter came with a bread basket, which included croissant, dark and light bread and butter and honey. The meal itself hadn't even arrived!

The bread was all delicious; I got a refill because Kyle and Tyrone kept stealing it!

Then my main course came. Starting closest, we have some creme fraiche. Working counter-clockwise, we have sirniki (fried cheese curds), munester cheese (sliced) which is concealing some cheese blintzs. Off to the right is the ubiquitous persimmon, kiwi and cloudberries which seem to accompoany all entrees at Pasternak. The fruit was delicious. In the middle of the platter are some of the creamiest, lightest most delicious scrambled eggs I have ever had.

This entire platter was incredible. The most delicious part was the eggs, once I had folded in some of the muenster. However, the fried cheese curds (at the 3 o'clock position above) were a novel new sensation. Topped with some of Pasternak's home made jam, they were superb.

However, Pasternak had some formidable competition from the next nights dinner, at Marjellchen: a silesian restaurant. I must say, with all honesty, Berlin had some of the best food of the trip. Both of these restaurants were extremely affordable and incredibly delicious.

At Marjellchen, we plopped ourselves down in an elaborately old world dining room, presided over by the formidable owner. When I asked for help between two entrees, she unhesitantly recomended the above: Masurain jugged game. It was another hunters stew, this time containing hearty cuts of stag and boar. It was also served with potato dumplings, cabbage (on a seperate plate) and a cranberry sauce. It really stuck to my ribs, but I managed to finish it..and desert!

For desert, I got the dumpling platter. As you can see, it was the best part of ridiculous. Starting at the bottom and working clockwise, we have an apple dumpling, chocolate cake with whipped cream, blancmange, a poppyseed dumpling and home made vanilla ice cream. In the center was cherries.

And with that wonderful desert, I boarded the train to Denmark. Stay tuned, avid reader!

Musings from my brainpan: Dumplings

2009-03-07T09:58:00.001-08:00

A few weeks ago, while on a jog, I was contemplating dumplings. That's not an unusual occurrence for me- I frequently listen to NPR's fantastic show "The Splendid Table" while jogging, which naturally makes me think about all things culinary. However, this was a topic that had weighed on my mind since Spring Break.

It all probably started at Dim Sum with my friends in December; won ton soup, it must be said, is awfully similar to ravioli. And the more I thought of it, the more I realized the universality of the "dumpling": boiled dough, sometimes wrapped around meat. In Europe, especially in Berlin, I noticed, more then ever, the variety of Eastern European adaptations of dumplings.

All of this simmered on the back burner of my mind until last week, when I went to get a pork tenderloin sandwich at the Made Rite before seeing Milk, a superb movie. Anyway, I asked what they had for desert that was home made. The apple dumplings, the girl responded. And as I ate my dumpling, I got fed up that I didn't know why I could get this same preparation Italy, Eastern Europe and China. So I decided today to do some research.

I was all ready to do a long project here in Grinnell's Burling Library, consulting dusty old manuscripts with yellowing pages. However, a quick Google search showed me a website had already done most of the research for me (with much more depth). Let me summarize their results here.

NOTE: Unless otherwise cited, everything below is from the website linked above. None of this is original research, and I fully admit that this is in no way original, just a summation.

"Dumpling. A term of uncertain origin which first appeared in print at the beginning of the 17th century, athough the object it denotes--a small and usually globular mass of boiled or steamed dough--no doubt existed long before that. A dumpling is a food with few, indeed no, social pretentions, and of such simplicity that it may plausibly be supposed to have evoloved independently in the peasant cuisines of various parts of Europe and probably in other parts of the world too.

There are quite a few types of dumpling, starting with the Ancient Roman Isicium, which I assume to be the starting point for most European "dumpling", including Eastern European varieties. In Europe, one sees Russian Pelmeni, Jewish Matzoh balls and Italian Ravioli (and later Gnocchi). They also moved East to China, where one sees Wontons.

According to the site, Isicium (literally: minced meat) could refer to multiple types of dumplings. Apicius apparently offered 2 varieties: meat filled and simple. His pheasant dumplings were phesant meat, roasted, and then chopped and shaped with seasonings and trimmings from the bird. The "spoon dumplings" were then boiled in salted water. His simple dumplings were just that: simple. Any meat could be minced, shaped with fat, and then boiled in a liquid. Sometimes tis liquid would be more like what we might consider a glaze.

This Roman dumpling branched out to create the classic European dumplings: your traditional yeasty dough, filled with a regional favorite and boiled. However, the dumpling landscape dramatically changed with the addition of the potato to agriculture.

You see, the potato is not native to Europe; it was imported from the new world. However, with its introduction dumplings were able to expand to their full glory, with the introduction of gnocchi, by those enterprising Italians, and the subsequent adaptation of potatoes into most dumpling doughs. This practice reached even the Eastern most reaches of Europe, to Poland, where potato dumplings remain very popular.

"That's all very well and good", you may ask, "But what about Chinese dumplings? Those are delicious! And they don't taste like gnocchi at all!"

Ah, my dear reader, you are correct. However, this issue is much more tangled.

There are multiple asian versions of filled dumplings, which may more correctly be called ravioli if we wish to apply the western name: the meat is wrapped in noodle, rather than being incorporated into the dough itself.

However, whatever Western name you may wish to use, dumplings can be traced as far back as the Sung dynasty, which ruled from 960-1279. They can be seen today as mantou, which refers to essentially leavened bread which is steamed. A similar preparation is seen in Tibet, where it is called "momo", but is essentially the same dish.

Above: Mantou (Image from Wikipedia)

So did all these dumpling spring from a common origin; perhaps the Roman Isicium, discussed above?

While it is possible, the explanation need not be that simple. Dumplings, at their most fundamental level, are simply boiled carbohydrates. It could simply be that dough, boiled, it an extremely fast and cheap way to get some carbohydrates.

Whatever the explanation, I hope you have enjoyed this short history of one of my favorite foods: the dumpling, either Eastern or Western.

Europe: Bordeaux

2009-03-06T19:32:00.000-08:00

****************
NOTE: This is part of an ongoing series of articles concerning my Europe trip. See below for links to the previous articles:

Zaragoza: Part 2 (Tapas!)

Zaragoza: Videos

San Sebastian (Pinxtos)

****************

And thus, we were dropped off at the TGV (high speed rail station) by Jean-Michelle and Sylvie. As Sylvie, as always, most diligently ensured that we were ensconced safely, I made some last minute purchases of pastries and then hoped on. As I watched Jean-Michelle and Sylvie dwindle in the background, I felt a little sad: I could have stayed happily with them, exploring quaint French towns forever.

However, Bordeaux was not bad.

Bordeaux is an ideal wine city. It is on a navigable river, ensuring its wines can be shipped easily to all the ports of the world. However, the soil is what makes it really special. Its rocky soil drains water easily, so the grape vines are perpetually deprived of water; leading to a more concentrated grape, which makes the hearty reds which take their name from this region.

Bordeaux is a handsome town: we didn't ever take pulic transit here; it was too small. However if we had, the tram runs entire along the waterfront.

One of the things on my list was to visit some vineyards. The second day, I got my wish and we boarded the bus, where we went to explore two winemakers of the region.

The Chateau Kirwan, the first stop, had a beatiful French villa. Once we stepped off the bus, the owner gave us a short but comprehensive tour of the operations, from the grape fields, to the juice extraction, to the lines of oak barrels in which the wine ages.

At the end, we tasted some of his wines. I enjoyed learning the process of tasting. First, you smell. Then you swirl then smell, and then finally you sip. Informally, I noticed that while sipping you swirl the wine while looking contemplatively into its depths, as if trying to find some deeper mystery. However, I believe that was our guides Gallic nature, rather than official protocol.

I didn't take many pictures of the city. However, Kyle, Tyrone and I were really getting into the swing of meals. I could identify restaurants like no other, and led us to our first stop, which we visited right off the train.
Note: the above trip was in the middle of the trip: now I am once again starting from the beginning.

I located this restaurant on the way to our hostel. Tyrone and Kyle seemed uneasy as to its quality, but I triumphed. Later, Kyle mentioned that he had been uneasy due to the fact that it was next to a strip club. I am sure it says something about me that I noticed only the menu of the day: saute de porc a la creme aux herbes (pork saute with a herb cream sauce).

I was not wrong at all for dinner. The saute de porc was mouth wateringly tender, and in a fantastically rich and complementary cream sauce. Notably, it also had one of the most delectable baked potatoes I have ever had. It was an incredible meal for 8.50 euros.

We stopped by a grocery store on the way to the hostel to pick up some wine and cheese for later. While there, we noticed the multiple varieties of nutella: a whole shelf's worth.

When I asked Sylvie for food reccomendations in Bordeaux, she gave me two things. I must have a canele, a traditional Bordeaux speciality, and I had to try La Tupina. I tackled the first one while walking around one day, and saw a baker selling the small, domed snacks.

The outside has an almost burnt, very caramelly flavor and a crisp texture. It yields readily to your teeth however, and betrays a chewy and gooey interior. I quick visit to wikipedia gave me the whole history, but basically confirms: it is a custardy pastry, baked in a way so as to make the outside crispy and leave the interior gooey.

The other thing I had to do was visit La Tupina, one of the best bistros in France. I was ready to plunk down some serious Euro money for this.

We walked in to see a roaring wood fire in a hearth. Apparently, almost all of their food is cooked over this hearth. I saw a variety of grates and carbon-coated cast iron pans, within which sizzled beautiful ingredients.

I ordered the six course tasting menu.

The meal started off with a little sample platter of radishes, sauccison and fried pork cracklings. It was a good way to cleanse the palate and get ready for the meal.

We also invested in a bottle of good bordeaux. It made the meal quite a bit better.

Also, some sweet breads also hit the table, another Amuse bouche. I love sweetbreads, a trait not shared by my companions (in life as well), so I had these perfectly cook babies all to myself.

My meal started off with a block of foie gras, garnished with some salt and pepper around the side and a piece of toast.

My favorite thing about French cooking is the simplicity. They only supply what is needed for the dish. In this case, all I needed was some toast to cleanse my palate after each creamy, complex bite of foie.

The main course was a "seven hour leg of lamb" served with a bordelaise-garlic sauce. The sauce was a thick reduction of the jus from the lamb leg, thickened and heartily enriched with good red wine and garlic. The lamb was amazingly tender; the entire construct fell apart with the lightest application of pressure from my fork. Needless to say, no knife was required (however, the meat knives at La Tupina were impressive affairs- razor sharp and quite large).

The incrdibly rich, decadent sauce went well with the tender lamb. If the lamb had been any less flavorful, the sauce would have overpowered it; however, this was not the case.

Kyle and Tyrone ordered some cassoulet, at my insistence. It is a perennial favorite of mine, and Bordeaux had the weather for it: cold, windy and damp. Nothing better than a casserole of white beans, duck confit and sausage to take the chill off.

After my lamb came a small round of amazingly good goat cheese, served with a very garlicky toast and some delicious cherry jam. Not much to say here, except everything was superb.

The last course of the night was the standout. An amazing apple tart. The apples had been carefully sliced and layered in the pan, so as to create an immensely dense and flavorful tart.

It was served with some of the richest vanilla ice cream I have ever had. Tyrone and Kyle looked at it with envious gazes. It was covered in a caramel sauce which enhanced, but didn't overpower, the apples and their flavor. Everything about the tart was calculated to enhance the natural "goodness" of the apples, not to hide it in sweetness.

That is the thing I love most about French cooking. It can be simple, because they use a small amount of high quality ingredients, and then they try to enhance them. Sometimes these enhancements take a long time and are expensive: pastry dough, for example. However, its flaky complexity betrays that it is in fact quite simple, but time consuming.

This meal was a hallmark of French culinary simplicity. In each course, there was, what we would term in English or Art History, a "single effect": the entire course was there to reinforce one effect, and give you the strongest feeling of that. For example, in the tart, you were to understand what an apple is. Each course had a ingredient that was front and center: foie gras, lamb or goat cheese.

The next day, while wandering around, we stopped at a nice little bistro on the Rue St Catherine, the main pedestrian only shopping street in Bordeaux. We had a nice little meal. Nothing spectacular, but just the sort of meal that Frenchmen take for granted, and that I will remember UNTIL MY GRAVE.

The meal started off with a nice little goat cheese salad; garnished well with two crostini of cheese, and well dressed. It had a walnut vinegarette which went very well.

My main course was simply entrecote with pommes frites. The steak was superb; tender, flavorful, accompanied by a simple pan sauce.

As you can see, the French know how to cook their meat. It was just cooked enough to bring out the full flavor and get a good char on the outside, but never were the juices hampered by the cooking.

The pommes frites here were OK; great by american standards, but they did not live up to the Gallic ideal I applied to meals in France.

Desert

For our final meal, we ditehred in a little square surrounded by restaurants. In the end, I chose Chez Edouard, based on its amazing menu. It wasn't until the next day I learned it was the 2nd bes bistro in the city, after La Tupina- the restaurant from the night before.

I got the 22 euro tasting menu, and started off with the (decevingly) simply named "Warm Scallop Salad"

This salad, as you can see above and below, it was far more than just scallops. It was a hearty collection of chrimp, mussels, clams and caviar, with some big divers scallops thrown on there as well. I think there was at least 22E of seafood on this dish alone.

Everything in this salad was excellent. Nothing was overcooked, or potentially questionable. All the shellfish were beauties, both by sight and by taste, and the overall effect was one of decadence, tempered by the discrete nature of everything: you ate it one piece at a time, savoring the variety overall, and the simple flavor of each piece individually.

For my main course, I got the duck magret with a honey sauce. I was excited for this, as I love duck, but I was also worried: would it be good?

Yes.

Moving from left to righ on the photo below: tomato filled with a brown sugar something, scalloped potatoes, a huge quantity of duck in one of the most delicate honey sauces I have ever had.

Above, the tomato and scalloped potatoes. The tomato was amazing; I would give up fingers to find out with what it was filled. The potatoes were also perfectly cooked and had texture while not being overly crunchy. However, both paled when compared with the duck.

As you can see, it was both a large quantity of duck, and perfectly cooked.

The outside had great sear, and the interior was perfectly rare. But really what knocked me out on this dish was the honey sauce. I was afraid it would overpower, but it did anything but. Both my companions were amazed at its subtle complexity; the sweetness had been tempered by the pan juice from the duck, and they combined to add another layer of depth to this dish.

The desert was very much in keeping with my ideas of a proper desert: dense, chocolate cake, covered in a heavy, heavy fudge sauce. The cake was dense and gooey, permeated with sauce.

This cake was the perfect end to a near unforgettable meal.

Chez Edouard, I think, was even better than La Tupina. At only 1/3rd the price, it delivered an experience that wasn't as complex, but in my mind more enjoyable. I think I enjoyed the main dish of duck more than the lamb the previous night.

On the way back, I was peckish and got a overpriced banana and nutella crepe. In retrospect, it was OK.

The next morning I had some quiche lorraine and coffee, as I prepared to leave Bordeaux for the long slog to Berlin, by way of paris.

I had a berry tart on the train in midmorning.

Alas, the trip to Berlin took forever, and were stopped in the wilderness for a few hours. However, we had sandwiches and money, which we converted into beer. It could have been a lot worse.

Grinnell: Revisited

2009-03-06T17:59:00.000-08:00

My last post about Grinnell has gotten some great reviews- both from friends and from my Mom's family who grew up here.

We were graced again today with another beautiful day- sunny and warm, just a little cooler than the previous. I had some more errands to do around town, so I decided to make a few detours and get some more pictures.

This picture may be inscrutable to most viewers, but the Taylor's will know it immediately as their childhood home on 608 10th Ave. I am happy to report it is still very handsome.

I stopped next by Hansen's, where I was immdeiately recognized by the propeitor as a Taylor. According to him, I look just like my Uncles and Grandpa. We chatted for a while, during which time he mentioned their handsome size (in my previous post but reproduced below) may be getting renovated as part of downtown beautification.

As part of the renovation, its faded neon would once more return to its full luminescent glory.

Before I left, I just had to tell Bill the long history the Gordon kids (and Taylor's before us) have had with Danish Maid baked goods.

When I was a little kid, every time we came to visit for the summer we would grab some of their hamburger buns on the way to visit my Grandparents. Once there, the delicious, petite buns (only about 2 inches in diameter) would be dressed with a thick slice of summer sausage, or else with some very chunky Skippy peanut butter. We would have these childhood snacks always with milk and some of my grandma's cookies.

Another childhood destination of ours was the Dari Barn, where you can get a variety of frozen treats on hot and muggy Iowa evenings. Just a few blocks away from my grandparents, we would amble down with my Mom to get double scoop chocolate dipped cones, which never failed but to drip down our chins.

They also had delicious malts, as I would discover when I came here in college. They are closed, alas, for the winter.

The Dari Barn is also next to a tractor retailer. During our visits, we would clamber among the tremendous wheels, climbing up the treads and generally scaring my mom.

Finally, the Made Rite. Well, when I was a kid it was the Made Rite; famed for their loose meat sandwich and pork tenderloin. Recently, however, they have un-franchised (de-franchised?) and returned to their original name: Montgomery's. I go their every so often, always getting a pork tenderloin sandwich (below). My mom believes that the girls who work there are descended from the founders.

I hope you enjoyed this post!

A trip around Grinnell

2009-03-05T17:47:00.000-08:00

Today, the weather was absolutely superb- sunny, in the upper 60's- so I decided to take a troll around my little town of Grinnell. I have posted about all sorts of crazy places in Europe, but I wanted to offer a glimpse of the town in which I go to school.

I started out along the fringe of campus as I headed towards downtown- a 2 block by 2 block square about 4 blocks from where I live.

On my way, I wandered past the vegan co-op's greenhouse, which, as you can see, is starting to sprout something.

Grinnell is a very religious town, in its understated way- I am sure the town has over 10 churches, of all sorts of denominations. We are the "big" town in the area, so a lot of farmers come in to do their banking and praying. Above is the Catholic church, which shows another endearing characteristic of Grinnellians: they love to make nice, imposing brick buildings.

Case in point: our handsome post office, with a flagpole that proudly flys the colors. Note the impressive columns. This is the northern edge of downtown.

As I headed down the street, on the way to my favorite coffeeshop, I stopped to cross the street in front of the old Stewart library, which is the town's, not the colleges. There is a very clear delineation between the town's stuff and the college's.

Some of downtown's storefronts. Grinnell has some nice sidewalks, which are great when not covered with 2 feet of snow. That isn't often, but pleasant when it happens. On the right of the above picture is the bike store, and on the left is Saint's Rest, one of two coffee-shops in Grinnell. Both are independent, and excellent.

Everyone was out on this beautiful day, so all the shops had put out their merchandise. Above is an awesome bike at the bike store.

I settled down outside to an iced americano, which I drank while contemplating the library and post office.

As you can see, the berries are still shriveled from their long winter encasement in ice. They have just now unthawed, and you can see hungry little finches eating them

Grinnell's stores have a legacy of independence. The Music Shop only recently turned into a Radioshack, and it still has a very...independent character inside.

Also, just like Harry Potter, we have addresses that are fractions.

At one of the cafe's in town, a raccoon had taken up residence by the light. When I left, there were 2 police cars and multiple firemen there.

As I headed back to campus, I stopped by flowers on fourth to get something to liven up my Grandparent's house. They live in town as well.

When I was a kid, we would get rolls from the Danish Maid (above) and sit down at my Grandparent's house to peanut butter or summer sausage sandwiches. They also have some delectable pastries and cookies. My mom and uncles have many stories about getting a piping hot Cinnamon bun and biking their newspaper routes.

We also have a darling downtown movie theatre- the strand- with 3 screens. Just recently remodeled however, and very comfy.

Lonnski's pub is a college icon, for their great sandwiches and soups.

Finally, I strolled past Pagliai's, which has some of the best pizza anywhere. Their special- green peppers, onion, and sausage- is spectacular.

Grinnell is a good town; I hope you enjoyed this (very brief) glance into where I live.

Europe: Pays Basque (resolution)

2009-03-04T18:02:00.000-08:00

****************
NOTE: This is part of an ongoing series of articles concerning my Europe trip. See below for links to the previous articles:

Zaragoza: Part 2 (Tapas!)

Zaragoza: Videos

San Sebastian (Pinxtos)

Pays Basque: Part 1
****************

The next morning, we woke up and toured around the small village of Hendaye, where JM and Sylvie live. It was a kind of gloomy, drizzly day, so we stayed close to home, and thus, no pictures. For lunch though Sylvie whipped up some "simple" potatoes and steak. Yeah. Amazing.

Cripsy, golden potatoes. Perfectly rare steak tenderloin, finished with a pan sauce. Mmmm-mmm good.

As you can see, this dish was quite clearly the most amazing lunch of steak and potatoes anywhere.

The previous day I had snagged some of the most delicious macroons from Biarrtiz. Sylvie mentioned they were good, and she was not kidding. They were completely different from the macaroons I have had as a Jew during passover, during which time we can't have leavened goods. The main difference was that these were good.

In the afternoon, JM and Sylvie drove us to the beautiful town of Bayonne, which is renowned for its wonderful architecture.

We browsed the loggia of the cathedral, meandering along pleasantly, tranquilized by our delicious lunch. It was a very tranquil visit.

I stopped at a chocolate shop for a hazelnut rocher- delicious. Very decadent, and much larger than it appears in the picture.

We stopped for some delicious hot chocolate, as the day was getting colder.

On the way out of town, I bought some roasted chestnuts. They were roasted made in front of my eyes. How could I resist!? We drove back tired, but deeply happy from a very peaceful and enjoyable day.

Back on the homestead, Sylvie whipped up some bread with pate, as my friend Kyle mentioned he had never had any.

Our main course was some delicious shrimp in the shell, very lightly flambeed with pastis. Probably one of the best new unique flavors on the trip was this dish. The shrimp was perfect, and the anise/licoricey flavor of the pastis was the perfect accompaniment.

For desert, Sylvie trotted out a fun assortment of French puddings. Amazing.

Here is the final state of the cheese tray:

Our stay in Pays Basque was unforgettable. I will never forget the beautiful towns I viewed, the incredible food I sampled or the un-paralleled hospitality Jean Michelle and Sylvie showed us. It was an experience I will remember for the rest of my life.

Awards!

2009-03-03T18:21:00.001-08:00

OK, that picture was to get your attention. This post isn't actually about La Mie's incredible brie and roquefort omelet.

Since I started this blog a few months ago, I have been amazed at the friends I have gained. What started out as a simple excuse to get out of the dorms has morphed into an endeavor that has put me in contact with some amazing people, whom I hope will remain friends. In addition, it has made me recognize some old influences that I had not before considered. Here are, in no particular order, some people I would like to thank for their help:

My Parents:

I never knew how much my parents had indulged my culinary whims as a child. Looking back now, I can remember my mom indulgently helping me make flan when I was 12 or so years old, or standing outside with my dad grilling burgers. I can safely say that without their culinary indulgence, I would not have the same appreciation for food I do now.

Jim Duncan:

I first reached out to Jim, a freelance food writer who most notably writes the “Food dude” column for the Des Moines Cityview on a whim: to see how “real” reviewers did it. I did not think that he would become a friend and a mentor for my blog. Very few, I believe, share his in-depth appreciation of food, but I think his true defining attribute is a defining vision for what food can be. He has a singular vision of how to improve Iowa’s food scene, in practical, no nonsense terms, and he has a way of finding the people in Des Moines that are furthering that vision. Whenever I need any culinary advice, he is the first person to whom I turn.

The Farmers of Iowa:

I would like to thank, as well, the subjects of my articles. I have harried, annoyed and pushed myself on quite a few, and I am happy to count some of them among my friends here in Iowa. I would particularly like to recognize Lois Reichert, who is ever so kind and runs the kind of diary that I wish every other farmer would emulate. She is motivated by her twin passions of food and her goats, which elevate her chevres, fetas and robiola’s to a level of excellence that few can achieve.

I would also like to recognize Steve McNeal, who works with Iowa Farm Families. He and his firm have created a strong Iowa brand that represents local farmers and gets high quality pork on the shelves of Iowa supermarkets.

My Friends in Des Moines:

Also, I would like to send out thanks to my new friends in Des Moines, with whom I have had the pleasure of dining- you know who you are. It has been a pleasure discovering fellow foodies in Iowa, and talking with you. To you all: I look forward to more meals in the future.

My friends in California:

Finally, I would like to thank my childhood friends from California, with whom I have had so many culinary adventures. Chris and Andy, thanks for all the good times, and I look forward to chilling more this summer. Without Andy's relentless mocking of my culinary close mindedness, and Chris' dry commentary, I might not have enjoyed the actual process of dining as much as I do now. Also, with these two as my team mates, we kicked the butts of a group of burly norwegians at an all you can eat Korean BBQ place.

In addition, I can always count on Allison and Sarah to chat with me when I am bored and hungry for food. Thanks all!

Baconfest 2009!

2009-03-03T16:03:00.000-08:00

This last weekend, instead of doing homework like I should have, I went to Des Moines to attend Baconfest '09, at El Bait Shop. I regret nothing. That is my entire motto about this festival.

I was tipped off about Baconfest (BF) by Jim Duncan, who mentioned I should just say I am "media" and they will let me in. I was skeptical, but I did know of the generosity of Iowans and their desire to share bacon with everyone. However, I needn't have worried: I had friends here.

I walked past the ticket counter into a bar overflowing with people and bacon;a glorious heaven. The sign above showed it all.

Jim Duncan and Steve McNeal escorted me back into the fortified bacon area, outside the kitchen. From here we escorted bacon to the table which ringed us. It also meant we could check out the behind the scenes action.

I started the day off with these puppies: mini bacon sliders with bacon wrapped hush puppies on top. I had unfortunately missed the BLT served before, but this started the day off correctly. It was not a revelation, but a decent bacon burger. I approved.

Above, you can see those bacon wrapped tater tots better. They were OK- they just tasted like bacon. Not that's a bad thing.

Throughout the day, bacon would just come out. There was a continual stream of it, from all sorts of different producers and varieties. Iowa Farm Families produced, as always, some excellent product, which I tried in pepper, maple, applewood and hickory varieties. I liked the applewood and hickory the best. It tasted like bacon should taste. Also up was Eden Farms, which was pretty good as well. It had better texture and marbling than flavor though.

The day also included various amuse bouches. The above was bacon wrapped chorizo- very nummy. The spiciness of the chorizo complimented...

I can't even feign pretension. It tasted like bacon. Delicious, delicious bacon.

After that, we went outside to the smoker, where the bacon explosions were smoking. Above is Brook, the organizer of the event, as well as my good friend Jim Duncan.

I mentioned that my camera would smell like bacon for a week, and some smiles came out.

A bacon explosion, by the way, is bacon, wrapped in italian sausage, bound together with a bacon weave. Burnt Finger BBQ, who was also in attendance at BF09, provides a good overview.

Here you can see the torpedo-shaped calorie logs smoking.

The bar was packed with people. It was a great old time, and I met some really nice new friends.

There were always eager young lads diving into the bacon tubs, which were always filled with hot and fresh bacon of different varietals.

Every so often, I ventured into the kitchen, just to be overawed by bacon. As you can see, every hot surface was grilling up bacon.

Here is some Eden Farms bacon sizzling under the broiler. Let me repeat: everything that could cook bacon was being used to satiate our unending hunger!

Later in the day the Bacon Explosions came. They were first coated in Burnt Finger BBQ sauce...

And then sliced. To be put on biscuits.

Back in the front, more people enjoyed their bacon. Look at those smiles!

When the bacon explosion sandwiches hit, people were digging in by the handful.

I had two, because I was starved. I christened mine with extra BBQ sauce. I believe the double bacon explosion sandwiches would be responsible for worst stomach ache of my life later.

Some more amuse bouches: pineapple wrapped in bacon. Just tasted like bacon.

Fongs also donated their bacon popper pizza. I could see having this more often. Whereas the explosion was a lot of "fun", this was legitimately good. It had a far better crust than it needed to, and the toppings were most excellent. Two slices of this went down the hatch.

As the afternoon wore on the crowd became more lethargic. The Bacon Explosion sandwiches did not go at such a high rate.

Brook kept on trucking though. Shown here devouring bacon ice cream.

Some of my friends from Burnt Finger BBQ, as well as Mr Baconpants. Check the link for his excellent website.

For desert, we had bacon ice cream with bacon truffle, topped with a little of Templeton Rye's excellent whiskey.

I think that picture sums the event up: booze and bacon. Thanks to all that made this such a success!

To all bakers besides Joe Logsdon: You have lost

2009-02-28T18:04:00.000-08:00

This is an open letter, to the bakers of the world:

You have lost. Joe Logsdon, of La Mie Bakery in Des Moines, has won.

I don't want to sound mean, but really, you should try harder. I have traveled quite a bit- from LA, to London, to Ireland, to Spain, to France, to Germany, to Copenhagen- and his croissants, brioche, puff pastry, breads and cinnamon rolls are better than anything you have made, bakers of the world.

Have you ever made any chocolate croissants like his? If so, you've been hiding them from me! When I bite into a La Mie chocolate croissant, the dough fights back. It holds it shape, it resists. It doesn't just yield: it crunches and rebounds, so that every subsequent bite is just as chewy and toothsome as the first, sublimely textured-crunchy and chewy at the same time. And the chocolate! Never too sweet, never even the slightest bit melty, or overly hard. I could wax poetic about the chocolate croissants forever. But I will move on!

And his rhubarb puff pastry- my god! Who else could take some Rhubarb, the most quintessential Iowa foodstuff, and turn it into a masterpiece. At any other bakery, anywhere, the rhubarb puff pastry would be a product that would bring people from miles around. Logsdon turns this humble cousin to celery into one of the best pastries I have had in my life.

Every time I go to the shop, walk in and take a box, I look for the worst thing on the self serve tables. What looks like it is going to be the worst pastry? What is his weak point? Doesn't he suck at making something? I mean, no one can be good at everything.

Or so I thought.

So far, I have just found that the man has no weak spots. He is as proficient in puff pastry as he is in cinammon rolls. He can make a baguette, a dinner roll, a loaf of multigrain bread, like a champion. His baguettes could make the most devout Francophile repent, or the most ardently militant multi-grain bread hater start using them for all of their sandwiches.

"OK Ben", you might say. "He can do sweet pastries; fine. He can do breads, whatever. How are his savories? And who are you to judge, you arrogant blogger you?"

First off, his savories are perfect. His omelets, impeccable. His quiches move me, frequently, to a state near tears. If I ever need to convince a girl that I do have a soft side I will take her there and then order one of his soups. The tears of joy that stream down my face would convince anybody of my softer side.

To conclude: Joe Logsdon's cafe, La Mie, produces the best baked goods, whether sweet or savory. Period. And I will back that assertion to the hilt.

Centro Dinner: La Quercia Acorn Edition

2009-02-25T13:31:00.000-08:00

Last Sunday, I got an email from Herb (from La Quercia) mentioning that there was a dinner with Acorn Edition prosciutto products. Of course, I cleared my schedule and jumped into my car last night to join him and some other gourmets at Centro Restaurant in Des Moines.

La Quercia's Acorn Edition products are their cured products made from pigs that have been raised on a diet of at least 60% acorns. This gives the products made from the pork an incredible intesity of flavor, that is further enhanced by Herb's skills as a prosciutto maker. Those products were what was featured at the dinner.

The night started off with some delicious crudites (toasts) topped with headcheese, pate or shredded pork. All three were delicious, with a simple, unadorned "porkiness" that shown through.The crudites were served with a Windmill Chardonnay from Michael~David Vineyard's, who provided all the wine for the event. The chardonnay went very well with the charcuterie, and allowed the meats to shine on their own.

We then sat down, and were presented with the luscious acorn edition prosciutto from La Quercia. It was sublime; just the smell was enough to transport one to rapture. However, when it hit my tongue and just dissolved, I knew that this was what pork was all about. Herb has managed to truly capture the essence of prosciutto with this Acorn Edition.

To go with this sublime prosciutto, we had some Incognito Rose, which was dainty enough to stand aside to the assertive flavors of the prosciutto. I would take a bite of the prosciutto, savoring it as it melted on my tongue. Then I would take a sip of wine, and then a bite of the breadstick, which cleansed my palate completely and allowed me to face the next bite with a blank slate. Each bite was a revelation.

The next course was a frisee salad, topped with a perfectly fried egg and porcetta (thick cut "country" bacon). I boldly sliced through the egg and let the yolk soak into the crisp frisee, which wilted slightly under the heat of the egg.

For my first bite, I boldly speared some of the porcetta, some egg and frisee and took a bite. The creaminess of the porcetta with the egg and the frisee; they were all perfect together. Fried egg may be the hot new trend, but with good reason.

To go with this course, we had the Incognito Viognier, a very high alcohol white wine. It really cut through the creaminess of the yolk well, and didn't have acidity which would have gone badly with the subtle creaminess of the egg and porcetta.

The next course, while good, was my least favorite of the night. Braised acorn pork ravioli, over vegetables. The ravioli wrapper was superb, but the pork filling lacked "oomph"- it could have used some prosciutto in there to give it some flavor. It was served over some vinegary vegetables that were merely OK as well. Overall, the flavors in this dish didn't work together terribly well.
It was paired with a Syrah, which was very enjoyable however.

Then the main course arrived, and I forgot all about the ravioli. A single Niman Ranch pork chop, with gorgeous sear, arrived. It floated on a bed of George Formaro's excellent white beans, which I so enjoy at Centro's sister resaurant, Django. The pork chop had true pork flavor, with an excellent dry rub that complimented the juciness inside. The beans had a delightfully mild spiciness. At the end, I gnawed on the bone like an animal, the chop was so good.

To go with this course, we had the vineyard's masterpiece: Rapture Cabernet Sauvignon. While I enjoyed this wine, I actually prefereed the chop with the syrah from the previous course. I sipped the cab while waiting for desert; a far better use.

As you can see, I drank sparingly of my wines. From left to right: Rose, Syrah, Cabernet Sauvignon, Syrah (the desert wine)

Our final course: apple tart with vanilla bean gelato and cinammon sugar cracklins.

Let me tackle this piece by piece.

The cinammon sugar cracklins (fried pork fat) were crunchy and delicious; they could have been anything. They added a great crunch to the dish.

The gelato was decadent, creamy and perfect, with a very strong vanilla flavor that complimented the apple tart.

The apple tart was a work of art. The apples were great and not to sweet (that was the gelato's job) and the crust was flaky and delicious. For someone like me, who has a sweet tooth like no other, it was a perfect ending.

As we left, Dave, one of my dining companions, got a bottle of the Cab and had it signed. Myself, I got my menu signed by Herb Eckhouse and David (the winemaker).

Some people get broadway tickets signed, others get baseballs. I get menus.

Miscellany

2009-02-23T11:18:00.000-08:00

Just a few things. Bullets will work best here:

I am trying to get Europe posted as fast as I can. My goal by the end of this week is to be done with France.
Tomorrow, I am going to a 6 course "Acorn Edition" dinner at Centro in Des Moines. It is being hosted by Herb Eckhouse, whom you may remember as the owner of La Quercia. It will feature 6 courses, using pork made from hogs that have only been fed on acorns. Look for updates tomorrow/wednesday!
I am winding down the amount of visits currently, as I will be on Spring Break in 3 weeks. Currently in the pipeline is a visit to Pavelka's organic beef and lamb, as well as a visit to Lois Reichert's DAiry in April to help her with the new goat kids.
Spring break is going to be pretty quiet, blog wise. I am trying to watch what I eat while I am home, but I will be visiting the bay area for 5 days or so. While there, I look forward to visiting Chez Panisse, Yank Sing dim sum, and hopefully many more places.

Europe: Our Halcyon stay in Pays Basque, France (Days 1 and 2)

2009-02-22T12:17:00.000-08:00

****************
NOTE: This is part of an ongoing series of articles concerning my Europe trip. See below for links to the previous articles:

Zaragoza: Part 2 (Tapas!)

Zaragoza: Videos

San Sebastian (Pinxtos)
****************

I was sorry to see Spain dwindling in the back window of the car as Jean Michelle (Sylvie's dapper and kind husband) whisked us on the motorway out of Spain to the Pays Basque region of France, to stay in their country house in the rural village of Urrugne. However, I realized I wouldn't miss Spain that much. From the back porch of their house, one could clearly see a lighthouse which, I was told, was on Spanish soil. In fact later on in our stay with them we would take a 5 minute ferry ride to get accross the harbor into Spain.

That night, we settled our weary bones into the house. As dinner approached, Jean-Michelle (JM) invited us into the living room for some saucisson and scotch. I wasn't going to argue.

Above, Kyle and JM chat amiably. My conversations with JM were always extremely enjoyable; he speaks a little English and a little Spanish. I speak a little Spanish, so we could chat well enough, but more often than not Sylvie served as a translator.

The saucisson, of course, was delicious. I should mention, before I get any further in this narrative, that Sylvie is one of the most amazing cooks and gourmands I have ever met. She is an effortless host and chef, and I did not have a meal with them that was anything less than amazing. Most of them, in fact were well abnove the level of amazing: they were awe inspiring.

For dinner, she just "whipped up something simple"- one of the most delectable quiche lorraine I have ever had. Rich with egg, ham and cheese, in a delicate flaky crust, it made me realize that this trip was going to be an immense pleasure. I went to bed that night profoundly happy, and slept the deep sleep of the dead- or at least sedated by food.

The next morning I woke up early, with the sun- a habit of mine since early childhood. I walked out of the house with the dog Hugo to go for a walk. I met their donkey, Pepieu (peh-PEW) in the yard. He couldn't join us.

Their house, as you can tell, is gorgeous.

Hugo was kind enough to blaze the trail for me; running ahead and looking back periodically. He was a splendid travel guide as he led me through the sheep fields, up to the top of the hill on which Sylvie and JM have the great fortune to live.

The view from the top was simply amazing. The house on the far right was where I stayed. On the far left, you can see the Spanish shoreline. Pays Basque was an amazingly beautiful place, and my morning walk with Hugo (and in later days with Kyle and Tyrone) would have been the highlight of my day, if Sylvie and JM did not also do all possible to show us even more wonders of their corner of France.

I arrived back to see Tyrone and Kyle digging in to toast and coffee. the bread here was amazing, and the toast, with that rich, creamy French butter, was a revelation of simplicity. Their kitchen, with its big window, let in those sun beams which seemed to warm the body and the soul.

Over breakfast, we discussed our itinerary for the day, In the morning, we would go to the seaside resort town of St Jean de Luz, and then return to the house for lunch. After lunch, Sylvie and JM would take us to Biarrtiz, and then we would return for dinner. It sounded like a plan!

Kyle piloted us expertly along the French roads to St Jean de Luz. He had, it must be said, a lot of fun driving. We stopped in the outskirts at a a bakery. Sylvie would later joke that I visited every bakery in France.

Bakeries are some of my favorite places- I love the smell, the warmth, the atmosphere. The beautiful round boules, the crusy baguettes and most of all, the pastries.

This is a mini apricot croissant.

An amazingly good chocolate and almond croissant.

One of the most amazing things about Europe-I mean, besides the foreign language signs that look silly- are the pedestrian only shopping roads. This is an amazing thing, that makes shopping so much more pleasant. Over our trip, we strolled along more of these wonderful trails than I can remember. Every major city had one.

We walked to the seaside, where we got a crepe with nutella. I am obsessed with crepes, and nutella.

The city was filled with beautiful views of the sea, through the gorgeous condos.

We arrived back at the house in time for lunch. I should mention here that after every meal, we brought out the cheese plate. One of my favorite parts of my days in France was acquiring new cheeses to try. At the front we have some emmental. Working clockwise, the orange one is a fermier, then a basque shepherds cheese, then a goat brie.

The cheese was served on some of the delicious local baguettes, which had great crust and good chew.

For lunch, Sylvie whipper us up another "simple" meal of chicken a la roquefort (chicken with a roquefort sauce) and some tagliatelli noodles. Of course, it was delectable.

The cheesy roquefort sauce coated the tagliatelli perfectly, and the creaminess of the sauce was great with the chicken, which she first sauteed and then stewed in its own juices with the cheese.

After lunch, we all piled into the car to go to the coastal town of Biarrtiz.

Biarritz is a resort town, full of fancy hotels, casinos and beautiful architecture. As you can see, they even had a carousel!

We spent a pleasant 3 or 4 hours walking around the windswept town, looking at the nautical facets of the town, as well as its gorgeous cathedral and grand houses.

Many of those houses commanded noble views, from which the lucky owner could examine the whole sweep of the French coastline. The coastline in the far background of the above picture is actually Spain. As pleasant as it was walking around though, we decided to take a respite in a tea shop.

We stopped at the beautiful Miremont patisserie, where we got some hot chocolate and a pastry.

The pastry was like, almond and pistachio. It was REALLY amazing though.

For dinner, Sylvie made is a traditional Basque dinner, often done by families. Essentially, she whipped up a batch of batter, somewhere between pancakes and crepes. Jean Michelle ladled these out onto an electric hotplate with 6 indentations, where the crepes cooked. Each person then flipped over the crepe, and then added toppings.

As you can see, the indentations formed little pancakes with a radius of about 3 inches.

My favorite way to make them was to flip them over, and then crack a quail egg onto the hotly flipped edge. The heat cooks the egg slightly, and then one adds some ham and cheese. The egg only slightly coagulates.

That was far from the only way to make them though. Sylvie had prepared a huge assortment of toppings. Another favorite of mine was salmon and creme fraiche.

I also tried some with egg and morcilla sausage, which we fried up on the burners.

As you can see, the cheese plate was gradually getting larger, larger and larger. Some additions included membrillo (quince paste), robuchon and a goats milk brie- another type.

And thus ended our first full day at the Lambert's residence in Pays Basque. I will be uploading the rest of the stuff sometime this week- stay tuned!

Europe: San Sebastian, Spain

2009-02-21T18:12:00.000-08:00

****************
NOTE: This is part of an ongoing series of articles concerning my Europe trip. See below for links to the previous articles:

Zaragoza: Part 2 (Tapas!)

Zaragoza: Videos
****************

We stayed in San Sebastian for 2 hours. However, in those two hours I had one of the most amazing meals of my life. So follow my narrative as I spin the story of mi almuerzo de pinxtos ("My Pinxtos lunch")

Here we are, arriving in San Sebastian. For those of you who do not know much about San Sebastian, let me enlighten you.

San Sebastian is just south of the French border, and it on the seaside. They are renowned, among other things, for their pinxtos bars. Pinxtos are the western Spanish equivalent of tapas.

While San Sebastian is Spanish, we would actually be driving to the Pays Basque region of France later that day; it was only 20 minutes over the border (from the house at which we were staying in France, one can see Spain). Above, you can see Sylvie, our extremely kind French hostess, who met us at the train station in San Sebastian. I will talk about her more later, but allow me just to say here that she was the exemplar of generosity and kindness to us, and I do not think anyone could have made us feel more welcomed than she did.

As you can see from the above pasteleria, San Sebastian, like the rest of Spain, is a magical place for a gourmet like myself. However, I hadn't seen anything until Sylvie guided us to our lunch spot.

I nearly cried when I went inside. The colors, the atmosphere, the food; it was all nearly too much for poor me. You can see the bartendress above pouring sidra, the traditional Basque apple cider into the glass. I grabbed it, and then I was off!

The pinxtos all come with toothpicks. At the end, the bartender counts all the toothpicks and then charges you the appropriate amount. Essentially, I took this to mean that I could eat as much as I wanted and answer for it later. Above, you can see pinxtos of morcilla sausage, manchego cheese, and at the front, alcachofa: deep fried artichoke heart wrapped in ham.

Above is a closer shot of the alcachofa, once I had bitten into it.

Some of their delicious jamon serrano, ruby red, on a fantastic baguette. You can't see it in this shot, but from the ceiling hung entire legs of ham, ready to sliced to order and plopped on top of a piece of bread.

Another plate of more stuff: I don't really know what any of this was. The black sausage in the foreground LOOKED like morcilla, but was extremely soft, not hard. It had great flavor though.

Same plate. The front thing in the pastry crust was something like an eel salad in pastry sherll. Pretty good. In the background right is brie cheese with sardine on bread. Very nummy.

All that follows are just gratuitous food porn shots. I ate a lot more than what I showed above, but honestly, it looked similar.

Tortilla espanol, waiting to be picked up and eaten.

More pinxtos in the pastry crust.

After this delightful feast, we piled into Sylvie's car and bade farewell to Spain. In hindsight, it treated us extremely well. I enjoyed the laid back Spanish culture immensely, from the coastal attitude of the Barcelonians, to the hectic and frenetic lives of the Zaragozans. I was sorry to leave, but I knew my trip was just getting started.

Mom's Tour of Iowa: La Mie Bakery and Cafe, Des Moines

2009-02-21T14:05:00.000-08:00

La Mie is a wonderful place. You step in, and you see all their delightful pastries arrayed out on tables. You simply get some paper and a bag and grab whatever you want. This is a horrbile temptation to me, as you can well imagine.

Above: One of the tables arrayed with sweets. You simply grab as many as you want, and pay at the front counter. It is a temptation most foul.

Today, my mom and I went there for breakfast before she headed back to California. She started with the Rhubarb Tart. Huge chunks of rhubarb decorate the luscious puff pastry, which truly is some of the crispiest and heartiest I have ever had. The pastries as La Mie are never greasy. Rather, they stand up to your bite with a heartiness that elevates them to a masterwork of flour and butter.

Above: My Mom's Rhubarb pastry. Look at those tremendous hunks of rhubarb!

Above: My Mommy enjoying her pastry.

For our "real" breakfast, she ordered the Quiche Lorraine. I opted for the egg white scramble with creme fraiche, smoked salmon and onions, served with a side of their lusciously delicious toast.

Above: My Mom's Quiche Lorraine. It was delicious, but as big as a man!

Above: My meal. Egg white with smoked salmon and creme fraiche, as well as some toast and fresh fruit.

Overall, I cannot recommend La Mie enough. It occupies and incredible space, serves foods, both sweet and savory, that left my mom and I yearning for a place of this quality in LA.

My Mom's Tour of Iowa: Pella

2009-02-21T13:57:00.000-08:00

My Mom was recently here, and we went to Pella. Here are some photo highlights:

Above: They celebrate Tulip Time in Pella during May. This is the tulip time monument.

Above: The interior of Ulricht's Meat Market, in Pella. Mmmmm...bologna and blue cheese.

Above: I don't know what that is, but it sounded cool.

Above: Jaarsma bakery. One of the best bakeries in the state. I bought an apple fritter, almond crispie and a straberry rhubarb pie.

Above: A nutritious breakfast of "chicken pot pie over biscuits." It was a lot better than it looked. The biscuits were light and fluffy, and the chicken pot pie "topping" soaked beautifully into the biscuit.

Above: One of my almond crispies from Jaarsma bakery. The outside was SO flaky; probably some of the best, most tender and beautifully layered pastry crust I have ever had the pleasure of eating.

I am alive!

2009-02-21T07:57:00.000-08:00

Hey everyone-

My apologies for the dearth of postings. So far on my "to-do" list, I have to finish the Alinea post and upload the rest of the pictures for Europe- believe it or not, I haven't even finished Spain! I still have to post about France, Germany and Berlin. Copenhagen might get a nod too, I guess.

Items of note in my life:
-Jim Duncan, also know as the Cityview Food Dude, has written an excellent post about Iowa's culinary future. I am mentioned in it, and everyone should check it out.
-Cochon 555 is coming to Des Moines April 19th! In it, 5 of Des Moines' best chefs will use an entire pig to produce a porcine bounty for 250 guests, of which I am one. More updates on this to come!
-Last but not least, I visited an old friend this week- Lois Reichert, of Reichert's Dairy, which is a small Goat micro-dairy. While she has stopped production for the winter, she has two darling goat kids, which she hopes to use to build up her herd in the future. In April, when her current mothers start birthing, I will hopefully be helping- stay tuned in April for some good pictures of me birthing goats!

Ben out!

Other things I ate in Chicago

2009-02-10T13:43:00.000-08:00

Once again, I will have to post descriptions later. I am super busy. It is only a feast for the eyes now, but I promise I will update with descriptions soon!

Bongo Room: Saturday Breakfast

White Chocolate & Caramel Covered Pretzel Pancakes crushed pretzel coated pancakes topped with warm white chocolate cream and topped with buttery caramel:

Above: The Chocolate and Caramel Covered pretzel pancakes- with extra banana!

The "chocolate tower": chocolate french toast:

Above: Before digging in

Above: After I attacked the tower.

Saturday Lunch: Cafe Spiaggia

My lunch: Gnocchi with wild boar ragu

Saturday Dinner:

Fakeout! This was at Alinea, see the post below.

Sunday Brunch:

At a place called M. Henry. I will use their descriptions.

blackberry bliss cakes

our fluffy hotcakes layered w/warm blackberries and vanilla mascarpone cream, & topped w/ a brown sugar & oat crust. bliss such as this, needs to be shared!

dulce banana rumba french toast

our thick brioche french toast layered with warm bananas, rum and golden raisins, drizzled w/crème caramel & toasted pecans.

Alinea

2009-02-08T19:32:00.000-08:00

At some level, I cannot even try to describe the experience that I had at Alinea. Everything came together perfectly: the food, the ambiance, the mystery. It really was like re-discovering why I enjoy food: because of the pure, simple pleasure it brings. From the simplest hole in the wall Mexican taco place, to the temples of haute cuisine, customers at these places are united by the simplest human desire and need: to eat.

I will do my best to describe the experience, but I will not be able to do so to my full satisfaction. Really, the details can only emerge face to face, and only be truly appreciated by someone who was also there. The details of the food, I fear, will be lacking as well: more often than not, I could merely grin and sputter at my companion as I tried to rave about a particular course.

The understated entrance to Alinea, in a chic neighborhood in Chicago.

My companion and I. We were giddy with anticipation, and had been so all day.

Upon arrival, they set this mysterious black...thing on the table. At Alinea, the experience is what is important. The food is the centerpiece of that, certainly, but everyone and everything contribute to the incredible time you have there. The mystery of this black thing is one such example (you will see for what it was used later).

As the waiter explained when I first sat down, there are no table clothes. Instead, little pillows are placed in the center, and new silverware is provided for each course. I would anticipate the next course eagerly, trying to guess what it was from observation of other groups dishes and the silverware provided.

That was the first dish: Char Roe: parsnip, licorice, ginger.

At the beginning, no menu is provided for the 12 course tasting menu. Instead, with a theatrical air, it is presented and described with poetic mystery to you by the waiter. This one was not as explicity described, and honestly, I was not thrilled. The licorice and giner interacted bautifully with the roe, which had been flown in overnight and removed from the fish ON THE SITE. It was a delicious dish, and even though it was not my favorite of the evening, it highlighted the chef's ability to try new and wonderful flavor combinations that will inspire me to try new things with food.

I should also mention: the bread was incredible. We had two types of butter. The one on the right is a cow butter with fleur de sel, and the one on the left was a goat butter. The goat had just the slightest tinge of "goatiness", and was my favorite.

The first type of bread, I think it was fennell. They were all amazing, and I can still taste them. The center was chewy, the outside crisp and the fennel shone through, while not upstaging the simple wheat flavor.

The second course, and one of the larger ones. Cauliflower with five coating, three gels and cider.

Essentially, this dish was served, and then a "cider", which was more similar to a cream of apple soup, was poured into the dish, rehydrating small pieces of dehydrated cauliflower.

The cubes above are cauliflower cream coated with one of 5 things: I can remember cumin, salt, onion..that is about it. There were three "gels": vanilla, nutmeg and horeseradish. Each one was a completely new and different flavor sensation. The coatings fell off into the soup, which gave it a rich and complex flavor, transcening that of a mere "apple soup".

Here is a picture of the cauliflower after I had taken a slice out of each one, dredged it in the soup, and eaten it lovingly.

Close up of the cauliflower. In the left is the vanilla gel.

At this point, the black volcano had started to frost mysteriously....

The next bread course: this one was once again savory, and my favorite of the night, It had some very light spiciness, almost like a curry powder, and it was shaped like a cinammon roll. Very good.

At this point, the waiter came bearing jamon serrano (pata negra) that had been frozen in liquid notrogen. This was the prime jamon serrano from Spain, made from pigs that ate only acorns. It would gradually thaw, and be used in the 5th course. In the mean time, it served as a beautiful accent to the table, with its ruby red meat contrasting beautifully against the black of the table.

The third course, and my "Dorothy" course (I knew I wasn't in Kansas anymore). It was atlantic cod: chamomile, shellfish and celery. Essentially, that yellow sheet was a gelatin sheet of chamomile, draped over a perfectly tender and immensely flavorful filet of atlantic cod, which was on top of a celery and cod puree. Above the sheet, were pieces of shellfish that had been dehydrated and "popped"; those are the little orange things.

The next course was served with this toast. It was, by far, the most amazin toasted bread I have ever tasted. It was slightly sweet, and just thick enough that it had a toasted exterior with a moist and delicious interior.

This dish was called lobster: popconr, butter, curry. All I can really tell you is that it was delicious. I remember every detail vividly, but I don't think I could actually tell you what was in it.

On the bottom of this portion of the lobster dish were three types of corn: popcorn, dehydrated kernells and regular "creamed" corn. There was a nice big chunk of lobster, as well as some other stuff which escapes me now. The effect overall, however, was quite amazing. The butter, curry and lobster all worked together collaboratively, yielding new taste combinations that I had never considered. The courses will definitely influence how I view complementary flavors.

That beautiful orange cube was a cube of some of the most concentrated and delicious mango essence I have ever had. Behind it is a yellow "blog" of curry. The creamy colored strip running underneath it was a kind of butter flavored cream, that unified the entire dish.

That agressively yellow ball at the front is a ball of clarified butter. You pierce it with your fork, and the butter pools in the bottom. Needless to say, it was delicious with the lobster. The toast also provided a nice foil, both in flavor and texture.

A shot of the dish. I did the right side first, then the left, then the middle.

After I "popped" the clarified butter. That is a chunk of lobster to the left.

Another shot.

The bread for the next course: a dried cherry "scone"- it was quite small, and was sort of a cross between a cracker and a scone. It was, of course, delicious.

This was the course prepared with the jamon serrano. The waiter came to the table with two plates, containing what looked like tubular potatoes over a creamy, reddish sauce. The waiter (Jason) then draped the jamon over the potato, and covered it with a smoked paprika and hazelnut oil.

The ham was fantastic. It just had such concentrated flavor that it oculd have carried any dish. However, it was perfectly complemented by the potatoes and sauce, called "salsify", which was like a cream de salsa- very good. Overall, this dish just "worked"- everything worked together in taste, texture and layering. You pierced through the ham, hit a potato with salsify, and put the result in your mouth. Wonderful.

You can see the beautiful ruby-red color of the ham. This course was called Iberico Ham: salsify, hazelnut, smoked paprika.

At the outset, I asked the waiter to pair a wine "with the course that will most benefit." He brought out a delicious, full bodied Provence red to pair with the next course. The wine was slightly sweet, ann, as you would expect, went perfectly.

I cannot stress enough how amazing the unity of effect was here. Everything, from the service, to the silverware, to the plates, to the food, worked exactly perfectly together, and elevated this dining experience to something more than the sum of its (very substantial) parts.

The black thing was finally used! Out came our dish of meat and potatoes (their title) and in the waiter poured...something..which billowed out in a grey cloud and filled our table with the scents of a steakhouse!

My meat and potatoes. A cube of the most succulent, tender beef I have ever had. In the background is a cube of potato, coated with onion.

Absolutely amazing, although it was not one of my favorites. While it was great, it was kind of boring. It didn't blaze new culinary territory for me.

Oh yeah: served with A1 sauce. Dehydrated. Very cute, and I sprinkled it onto the plate to go with the steak. Honestly, the meat was so good I didn't season it much at all.

Needless to say, my hearty red went extremely well with this course. Next time, I will get the full wine pairings. In an extra bit of value, the wine went with the next course, said my waiter. I, who am very much a novice with wine (I am 19; many people believe that at this age I haven't even developed enough taste-discernment to be able to fully appreciaite great wine) accepted this.

This was my favorite of the night: hot potato, cold potato. It is descibed on the menu as "Hot Potato: Cold potato, truffle, butter".

I knew I was in for a treat when the waiter told me to have my camera ready; the next course would be, as he said, "time sensitive." In short order a business-like waitress came, place the above in front of me, and said the following:

"This is time sensitive, to do it with me. Pick up the wax bowl in your left hand. Grasp the bottom of the skewer with your right hand. Pull out, so that the potato and butter fall into the truffle below. Take the entire thing as a shot, like an oyster"

I did so, following her instructions. The hot potato, on th skewer, dropped with the butter into the liquid, and I then threw it back like an oyster shot, channeling the vodka-drinking skills of my Russian ancestors.

It was amazin; a flavor explosion in my mouth. My eyes lit up, partly due tot he surge of adrenaline due to the frentic nature of the instructions. The hot, the cold, the cheesy, the truffle: all were actors in an amazing play being performed on my tongue. I swallowed regretfully.

You would think this course was served in that glass, right? Wrong!

After it arrived on the table, the waiter pulled the glass away with a flourish and this ice-creamy concotion poured out. It is titled "chestnut: quince, chocolate, baked potato." It contained those elements in a savory ice cream- the brown colored type was baked potato ice cream.

This was definitely the most experimental, and also my favorite. Everything just worked with the potato, and the different textures and temperatures were very interesting.

A "cookie" to go with our ice cream.

You can see the sweet potato, baked potato, fried potato, chocolate and quince in the ice cream.

Another "shot course." In the glass was a yogurt "truffle" with persimmon juice in the bottom. One simply slugs it back, and bites into the yogurt ball, which explodes in your mouth, mixing with the persimmon in a most satisfactory way. This marked the transition into the 3 desert courses.

The night was getting late, and our waiter asked us what breads we enjoyed most; the kitchen had extra.

I was really looking forward to this course- all night, I had been seeing pillows coming out and placed on people tables. I wanted to find out what was up.

Apparently, the pillow was filled with the scent of the persimmon spice cake (our next course) baking.

The cake then was placed on top of the "pillow" which started to deflate, so that it was flat as I took my last bite, oozing the scent of baking cake as I ate.

The persimmon spice cake was superb. Probably one of the dishes that I would love to make at home.

This next course was very interesting. To left, a variety of objects (nuts, olives, etc) had been covered with a chocolate blanket. The effect of this was that, every time you took a bite, you weren't sure what would end up in your mouth. The ice cream at the front was actually pine (as in tree) ice cream.

A close up of the chocolate and ice cream. You can see the bums under the chocolate.

After the ice cream had been demolished.

The final course: sweet potato tempeh that had been skewered on a long piece of cinammon bark. You picked it up by the burning end, and ate the tip. It was an amazing and magical ending to a superb meal.

I felt a little sad as I placed the still glowing cinammon stick on the plate; in many ways, it felt like the magic of the night had been extinguished. However, it will still always glow and smoke in my memory. Alinea utilizes every sensory facet of the eating experience, giving one tremendous recall. However, the magic, I feel, can never be fully articulated.

The waiter snagged one last picture of us- this was at 1:30 in the morning. We had been there since 10 PM-3 hours and 30 minutes of eating. I wish it could have been longer.

Chicago Food Itinerary!

2009-02-03T16:03:00.001-08:00

Hey Guys!

I am off to Chicago next weekend. Here is where I plan on eating:

View Larger Map

Friday Dinner:
Avec

Saturday Breakfast:
A place called "orange" that specializes in "fruit sushi"- it is pretty much exactly what you would expect- fruit over (sweet) rice
OR a place called Hot Chocolate

Saturday Lunch:
Urban Belly

Saturday Dinner:
Alinea

Sunday breakfast:
Bongo Room

Bakery Run!

2009-02-02T15:57:00.000-08:00

Hey Guys-

On Saturday I also was in charge of procuring some baked goods for a party. However, I am also a fat, greedy pig, and ate all of them on the way back to Grinnell from Des Moines. A photo recap:

Some baby boomers cookies. Obama had these when he came by, and now the bakery can't make enough! They were pretty good, but I prefer thinner cookies: these guys were pretty meaty.

My next stop was "La Mie" bakery. It's a gorgeous little space, with no clear delineation between where the pastries are and where the customer sits.

Above: The display of pastries and breads.

Here is what I got:

Above: An almond and chocolate croissant. the pastry shell was FABULOUS- crunchy and chewy and buttery. I think this may be the best almond corissant I have ever had. The fillings were perfect to- just the right ratio of almond:chocolate:crust.

Above: From upper left, moving clockwise: Rhubarb puff pastry, chocolate croissant, "cluster bar" (basically a delicious bar cookies full of nuts, fruits and chocolate chips) and a mixed fruit tart. The fruit tart was the only one I didn't eat on the way back to College.

Above: A close up of the rhubarb puff pastry. Look at that Rhubarb- the chunks were enormous! A great pastry.

Restaurant Review: Pho Ha Dao, Des Moines

2009-02-02T15:42:00.000-08:00

Pho Ha Dao

The history of pho represents the variegated and complex history of Vietnam. Many people believe that pho is a relatively modern dish, created sometime in the first two decades of the 20^th century in Vietnam. Many believe it was a response, or regional adaptation, of the rich stocks and consommés of traditional French cooking. In the years since the First World War, Vietnamese immigration and migration have ensured that even here in Iowa, one can get great pho- as Pho Ha Dao in Des Moines proved to me.

It really isn’t much of a surprise that pho resonates here in the Midwest. On an elemental level, Midwesterners, and all humans, dearly love something warm and meaty in their tummy on a cold winter day. Goodness knows Iowa is certainly chilly, and pho is undoubtedly warm and meaty. So last Saturday, I headed into a place I didn’t think I would ever find: the “Asia town” of Des Moines.

It was primarily Vietnamese and Thai, with a little Chinese. I got the feeling that there was definitely enough of a Southeastern Asian population to support the 3 or 4 shops around pho ha dao, but not necessarily more than that.

I started my visit by ducking into one of my favorite types of shops: an Asian supermarket called the Double Dragon, right next to Pho Ha Dao. I was not disappointed: the Double Dragon had an incredible butcher counter, fresh noodles, jin dui and banh mi beside the cash register, and all the “asiany” foodstuffs that I just adore, and never thought I would be able to find in Des Moines.

Above: Thai tea in a can! Note to AC: they did have the type in the bottle (which I bought and am drinking now)

Above: Fresh noodles, ready to be cut up and made into delicious food. If only I had a kitchen!

After my visit there, I headed over to meet Jim Duncan for lunch. We started off with two appetizers: some spring rolls (pork) and some fried pork rolls. Both were delicious. Vietnamese spring rolls are quite different from the Chinese variety. They are usually filled with a variety of greens, some light rice noodles, and cold pork, all wrapped in an translucent and cold rice paper wrapped- they are never fried, and are usually cool and uncooked. PHD’s were no exception- the greens were crunchy and the pork was flavorful. They are usually served with a chili and peanut dipping sauce that one ladles into the roll. The fried pork rolls- slim and golden brown- were also great.

Above: Our appetizers. You can see how the spring roll is filled with greens, noodles and pork. On the far left of the plate is the pork roll.

I was giddy with excitement when the waitress put the platter of sprouts, basil and lime on the table- traditional accoutrements to a big bowl of Pho. I had elected for a basic beef and meatball pho, although Jim had gotten his beef served raw, which he then added himself to insure it would be rare enough.

Boiling beef bones a lot- up to 14 hours in the best cases- to get a really rich, delicious stock first starts Pho. This stock is the foundation of a good bowl of pho- without it, everything else falls flat on its face. The chef then ladles in the ingredients to a bowl- thin vermicelli rice noodles, beef and meatballs in my case- into a bowl, and then pours the piping hot broth over the mixture to cook everything. When the pho hits the table, one adds in basil, chili and lime according to ones taste. I also add sprouts just before eating so that they don’t wilt too much in the steaming broth. Then, you swirl it all around with your chopsticks and take a big, delicious bite.

Above: Some pho fixin's. You shred the basil with your hands, get some sprouts in there and you are ready for a great pho experience.

Above: My prepared pho bo, beef pho. You can see the rice vermicelli noodles, as well as some of the meatballs and a few sprouts.

My first bite at PHD’s did not disappoint- it was some of the best pho I have had. A thin, glistening layer of fat and a beautiful deep color to the broth told me I was in for an experience. Next time though, I will follow Jim’s lead- some nice rare beef would have been just perfect. I give Pho Ha Dao two thumbs way up!

Dreesman Bison Ranch

2009-02-01T16:09:00.001-08:00

Food Tour of Iowa: Dreesman Bison Ranch

As I packed my camera, sturdy boots and sunglasses into my car and plugged in the address to Dreesman’s Bison Ranch into the GPS, I reflected how much I have done with this blog. You see, Dreesman is only about 10 miles away from Hinegardner’s Orchard, my first entry in this blog.

As I revved my little Nissan Sentra up the hil;l that leads into the ranch, I felt like I was on a safari: the bison skulls and pelts on the fence gave it a definite sense of place. I pulled into the ranch just as Tom was getting some hay on the pickup to feed to the bison out in the field. I pulled on my boots, tugged my cap lower against the winter day (which wasn’t as bad as I had feared) and hopped into Tom’s pickup.

Above: Imagine going 30 mph with that bale of hay behind you. Now imagine doing it in a foot of snow, over fields. It was good times.

Tom uses his pickup like they are meant to be used. With a big bale of hay in a trailer behind, we blazed along at 30 miles an hour through snow covered fields to the entrance to one of the pastures where the bison graze. On the way out, Tom gave me a rundown of the history of his ranch. He started his in 1989, and maintains a steady herd size of about 200-250 bison, and tries to slaughter about 40-50 a year. He uses, as you might say, all parts of the buffalo. The meat is converted into jerky and burgers and sold to grocery stores all over the state. Tom sells the pelts to people, who use them as throws over couches or beds. I saw some of them in the shop; they looked warm! A full grown bull can weigh up to a ton- one of the most recently slaughtered netted 900 pounds of meat, although that is more than average.

In addition, Tom entertains hunters and horseback riders, who are welcome to use a small cabin he has added to the property. All in all, he owns 360 acres and rents a further 40, giving the bison quite enough space to roam.

Above: Iowa is actually quite picturesque. I would not mind camping out here when the weather gets warmer.

Above: Buffalo in their natural habitat
After dropping off the hay, the fun began. While Tom loaded up another bale of hay, I hopped on an ATV. Tom was going to give me a tour, and the snow had yet to melt enough to allow a pickup to get through most of the property. I was again transported back to my first visit to Hinegardner’s, when I also rode an ATV. This was, however, quite the other thing.

Above: This time, I was in the driver's seat. Watch out Iowa!

I revved along behind Tom at about 30 miles an hour, the cold wind whipping past my cheeks as I blazed along laughing beside the pickup. It was incredible! I barreled through thick snowdrifts and absorbed the scenery. After Tom dropped off the bale, I let him drive and hugged on to the frame of the ATV tight to keep from falling off as we went up and down hills, touring the extent of his property.

I hopped off the ATV, back at the ranch house, pretty happy. Bison really are majestic creature; I am glad there are people like Tom Dreesman who continue to raise them.

The jerky I had, by the way, is excellent. It had good chew at the beginning, which gradually gave way to a really complex, meaty flavor, the likes of which I have never had in jerky before. I also got some summer sausage and beef sticks- once I try them, I will report back!

Europe: Zaragoza: Videos

2009-01-27T20:12:00.000-08:00

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NOTE: This is part of an ongoing series of articles concerning my Europe trip. See below for links to the previous articles:

Zaragoza: Part 2 (Tapas!)
****************

Here are some videos from the trip:

This is a video overview of the tapas I had that night.

A toast!

Europe: Zaragoza: A Tapas Redux

2009-01-27T19:57:00.000-08:00

****************
NOTE: This is part of an ongoing series of articles concerning my Europe trip. See below for links to the previous articles:

Overview

Barcelona

More Barcelona

Zaragoza: Part 1
****************

Zaragoza, a redux: Tapas time
“Oh my GOD”, I exclaimed as I stepped out of the restaurant into the alleyway, “I just spent 50 real dollars on finger foods! I need a waffle!”
That was how my epic tapas night in Zaragoza ended. Or, as I like to think of it, how my epic tapas day, in which I had tapas for all 3 meals in less than 24 hours, began. Please, follow me as I lead you throiugh part 1 of this magical 3 meal saga I will call: Ben Gordon: The Bar Food Chronicles (BG:TBFC).
As I explained in my previous posts, tapas are the class of bar food unique to northern spain. Frequently they are ready to eat nearly immediately, requiring mere seconds in a fryer or broiler. I would direct you to my previous post, where I left after exiting the first of 5 restaurants that night. In order, this is how the night went down:
-Tapas bar A (in previous post)

-Tapas bar B

-Churros y Chocolate tapas “break”

-Tapas Bar C “Meli e Melo”

-Waffle Time!

I will let the photos tell the story of this amazing journey.

Tapas Bar B:

To start off, we basically ordered a selection of everything. Let me try to remember what these were. I will go from left to right accross the top row, then left to right across the bottom row
-This was a seafood something, I think. It was served in a metal container to give it shape. I think it had shrimp? Most of the tapas here were fairly forgettable.
-This was a seafood gratin- like a seafood salad with cheese (manchego?) melted over the top. I should mention we shared this plate. Have you ever cut a 2 inch wide tapa into three pieces? While drunk? It's hard! At the next place we did no such thing. I wish I had taken more pictures of these- it would help me remember.
-the little one to the right I do remember- it was a croquette, specifically a mussel one. A croquette is essentially potato wrapped around something that is then deep-fried. You cannot see it, but it was actually served in a mussel shell. This one was quite good.
-The next one (at the far right of the top row) was really different. It was a triangular flaky pastry, and it contained piping hot spinach- it had obviously come right out of the oven.
-On the bottom left: that BIG buy is a croquette of jamon serrano and cheese. It was DELICIOUS. We fought over this guy.
-This next one was a seafood salad, in a flaky pastry "boat" almost. It was baked so that it was like a little cup, which held the salad.
-This next one was my favorite. I will talk more about it below.
-I don't even remember the one on the far right. It wasn't very good.

The one above was really good though. It was essentially another flaky pastry "boat" which held cheese, membrillo (quince paste) and some really caramelized onion. It was very complex- the membrillo was really sweet, which balanced the unami flavor of the cheese and onions, all held together on top of this pastry crust. It was the best tapa there.

Overall, I was not a fan of this place. Although it had the best wine (we-or at least I- was drinking heavily throughout this even) it was also the most expensive, and the tapas were merely average- the previous joint and the next place were much better.

Churros y Chocolate "break"

After the 2nd place, Tyrone and Kyle were both feeling a bit full. So we decided, "Hey-lets get churros y chocolate!". For those of you who don't know, Spain specializes in the churro; a delicious pastry that is very similar to funnel cake, but not "looped" around into a cake form. One then gets these piping hot churros, dripping with grease out of the fryer, and dips them in the thickest, most velvety and sensuous hot chocolate. It really has a consistency of a melted hersheys bar- it is just incredible.

For our mid-dinner chocolate fix, we chose a very serious looking place, called Valor. From outside, we saw gleaming white marble, with crowds of happy people chowing down on the MOST delicious looking churros, which were steaming hot. We were hooked.

As you can see, Valor takes its chocolate seriously. Each of those 5 machines has a different type of chocolate, with different cocoa percentages. The third one from the left, as you can see, has white hot chocolate. We stuck to the traditional: middle of the road hot chocolate with 3 churros.

This is Kyle's look when I said I was still pretty damn hungry. He thought I was drunkenly boasting. I wasn't.

I literally saw them pour these churros into the oil when we ordered. Each one of those suckers is nearly a foot long. This was just one order by the way.

That is the chocolate. One dips the churro in it. This was incredibly thick- it was literally like they took the best chocolate they could find, melted it, and put it in a bowl. This was not a drink; it was more like a condiment for the churro.

Oh my god- I don't think there is any better drinking snack than this. The hot, delicious chocolate just coated the greasy hot churro, and combined to form the most delicious snack. It just sank into the moist center. So good.
Tapas Bar C- My FInal Stop. It was called "Meli e Melo"

This was my first order of 7 items. Keep in mind a few things. First, I ate all of the following myself. Kyle and Tyrone were pretty much checked out by this point, and they were my runners- keeping my wine glass (above left) filled and ordering more stuff when I asked. They were a perfect support team. Thanks guys!

The bartender was also clearly impressed by my skills at eating, and was clearly amused by the fact that I was eating everything they had on sale.
I am going to work around the selection from bottom left, to upper left, moving in a "U" shape.
The tapas here, by the way, were all the bestof any place I had gone. They were all cooked to order, so what was displayed in the counter was a uncooked and ungarnished version of what hit my table. So without further ado:

This was montadilla of sausage and vegatable, with a little cheese. This was really very good- the cheese was crispy, and the suasage and vegetable (celery maybe?) we both flavorful. It was like a really good, open face sausage sandwich. Also, please note: the plates were all about 2.5 by 2.5 inches, so keep that in mind when mentally sizing the portion. These were usually 3 or 4 bite tapas- a bit bigger than normal.

This was another montadilla- this time of some very lightly seared steak. Seriously, it was still ruby red in the middle. It was really good thoiugh. I should mention that all of the montadillas were served on some of the most delicious bread I have ever had. In this case, the bread was just firm enough to soak up the delicious steak juice, which dribbled down my chin with every bite.

I was so happy. This was probably one of the best nights of my life. Great wine, incredible food, my best friends next to me, in a Spanish bar, surrounded by people having a great time- it had it all.

This was another montadilla, of lightly marinated and shredded beef wrapped in jamon serrano. This guy was a beast- the meat portion was an inch in dimater, without a lie. I bit into it the first time, and it was a revelation. First, I got the saltiness of the jamon serrano. Then, the taomato-y bread. Finally, the dense, delectable and incredibly meaty center of shreadded beef. Make no mistake- these were not delicate little finger sandwiches. They were food, with one mission: fill up your tummy!

This was after two or three bites. You can vaguely see the beef in the interior.

Going through these photo's is like living that night all over again. This was a deep-fried shell of some kind, kind of like a canneloni, wrapped around shredded pork, very similar to carnitas. I think the sauce that you see around it was a pan sauce from the pork. This was really good- both the shell and the carnitas style pork were really crispy from the frying, but also very distinct, as you would expect from a protein and a starch. All through this meal, Kyle and Tyrone were watching me. This would be a theme throughout the trip, as I routinely ate tremendous amounts. I am also a very slow eater.

I think this was another tapa of breadcrumbs around more shredded pork or beef- I honestly don't remember.

You can see the interior here- I want to say it was shredded beef because of the color. Anyway, it as really good. The beef was mixed with some little veggies before being lightly breaded and fried.

Best dish of the night, right here. I will let you try to guess what it is you are seeing. Is it meat? Is it chicken? What the hell?

This was queso de cabra- goat cheese. I literally had NO idea what this was when it was plunked down on my table. What they had done was taken some of the most DELICIOUS chevre I have ever had, and then rolled it in a top secret, spanish mix which I think included pistachios, almonds, and maybe bread crumbs. The entire thing was then fried, and garnished with a mixture of quince paste and honey, and then drizzled with some of the most delctable balsamic vinegar I have ever tasted.

This dish was over the top good. Incredible. Give up my day job and becomes a profession tapas eater good. Marry the chef good.

The goaty flavor and creamy texture of the chevre was perfectly balanced by the crispy outside of fried nuts. Keep in mind, the outside was piping hot, and the inside was gooey and delicious, corresponding to how deep it was. The balsamic vinegar was the kind of balsamic that you always hear people on Food TV telling you to buy. It was very sweet, very complex, with hints of fruit. The quince and honey "marmalade" on top of which it was served was delicious as well. The sweet/salty/cheese combo of the marmalade/balsamic/chevre mixture was simply sublime.

When this hit the table, I saw the glint in the eyes of my companions. I shut them down immediately, and made them get their own. I would make my own mother get one of her own rather than sharing this incredible treat (sorry mommy!).

At this point, I was nearly in ecstasy. You could have shot me and I wouldn't have minded; nothing could get me down.

This was another croquette, but I quickly realized here that this was a very special restaurant where I was eating. They obviously were doing new things with old tapas staples.

This was a croquette in the same way that the previous item was "only" some cheese.

First off, it was fried in incredibly hot oil, for a very delicate, incredibly cripsy crust.

Second, the mixture was one of sublimely smooth and buttery potato, mixed with cheese and artichoke that had been pureed into a very fine blend together, forming a gooey, molten center, which you can see above.I bit into it, and just as my teeth moved past the delightfully crispy crust, my taste buds were assaulted by a full compliment of cheese, potato and artichoke. It was just incredible. I can hardly describe it in words.

At this point, I had ordered more. Thus, the item above is not featured on my full table shot, nor were the following.

These were lean strips of pork, which had been lightly breaded and then fried. These were merely OK- at this point, I was in sensory overload. To be noticed, anything I put in my mouth would have to be amazing. The next item did that.

What the hell is that, you may ask. Well, allow me to dissect it for you. What you see on top are tiny, tiny eels.

This is it after a bite- I nearly swooned here. Basically, what you have is a GIANT calamari, into which the chef had put a mix of much smaller, incredibly tender fried calamari with a very light tomato sauce, and then topped it all with the eels. At this point, my mind, she was blown. I was amazed- it ewas just the most creative, delicious thing. The giant calamari was crunchy and flavorful, and I hit this incredible hot mix of smaller calamari, the juice of which had permeated the bread on the bottom.

In any sort of lesser meal, this tapa would have dominated. In this case, it was above average. What the chef had done was, taken a baked potato and filled it with shredded beef, and topped the entire thing with a savory custard of egg and cheese, and speared the entire thing through with rosemary sprigs. I love the presentation on this.

Desert: Waffle

After that, I walked to a waffle place and proceeded to order the most ridiculous item I could think of. I knew I wanted it to be a waffle.

I had them cook me up a fresh waffle, and cover it with two scoops of dulce de leche ice cream, a chocolate shell, and then top it with more chocolate, caramel, almonds and walnuts. I then got some more of that incredible spanish hot chocolate to drink. I also drizzled it over every bite.

Here, you can see the waffle and chocolate.
So, what did I think of the meal?
Probably one of the best nights of my life. I had so much fun. The entire experience was one of travel- from bar to bar, tapa to tapa, wine to wine, cuisine to cuisine., I felt like I was riding a wave that didn't stop until I collapsed, exhausted, in my bed. And I would do it all again, plus more, in the drop of a hat, without a seconds hesitation.
I hope you enjoyed the photographic journey as much I did eating it.

Restaurant Review: Dim Sum at Kwong Tung, Des Moines

2009-01-25T16:03:00.000-08:00

Dim sum in Des Moines. It sounds like something to avoid, doesn’t it? In fact, my last foray into the world of little dishes (last year) was OK- below average, but whatever. The choice is important. It comforts me to be able to get dim sum.

However, I am now happy to say that there is a above average dim sum place in Des Moines now. I know- super exciting!

Kwong Tung first came to my attention when my friend Jim Duncan- who writes the excellent Cityview Food-dude column, as well as his own blog- reviewed them in his column. I immediately emailed him, to make sure that I wasn’t hallucinating as a result of Iowa water. He confirmed it, and we went today.

For those of you not familiar, dim sum is the traditional Chinese weekend morning meal, which is characterized by small dishes of various sorts of dumplings. In general, DS is only available on weekends. At Kwong Tung, it is only served Sundays.

I walked in to find the dining room pleasantly full. There were no carts, but all food was made to order, and always piping hot. I should mention they do an excellent job of showing you the food (through a pictographic menu), which takes some of the scariness out of ordering.

I will let the photo’s show you what I ate, rather than simply telling you.

Above: Some shu mai- open dumplings filled with a mix of pork and shrimp. The filling was the strong point of these- I could clearly taste chunks of ginger, pork and shrimp, which was a pleasant reminder of what they are. It was obviously homemade, which is a good thing.

Above: Next up, we had some har gow. These were OK- the shrimp was not particularly good (as could be expected in Des Moines). In a dumpling where the filling is only shrimp, that is a fairly serious issue however. I would not reccomend these, although the wrapper was good- a theme that held up throughout the meal.

Above: Rice noodle roll with shrimp. I did not like these at all, even though they are my favorite at home. The wrapping on these was not very good, and the shrimp tasted like cotton swabs. The fact that the wrapping was no good is interesting, because later in the meal I had the same rice noodles with pork, and the wrapping was fantastic- I don't know why it skipped this dish.

Above: Lo Mai Gai, which is sausage and chicken in dense sticky rice in a leaf. I was surprised by this dish, as I normally dislike it in LA- I find that rice too dry and overly starchy. However, here the dish was just superb- the rice, chicken and sausage were all very moist and well flavored- a far cry from the dish I dislike in LA. Very interesting.

Above: Stuffed green peppers. This dish was a standout- the peppers were thick, crisp and perfectly cooked- tender, but still with a crunch. The filling was good as well- shrimp over rice, covered in a black bean sauce. It is rare when I say that the best part of a meat dish is the vegetable portion, but there you go. I should also say that I have never had anything like this. However, I am sure my friend Andy will tell me more about this than I ever needed to know. (Hi Andy! Don't kill me for the various issues in this article! I love you!)

Above: Char Siu Bao. Oh bao, what a troubled relationship I have with you. You see, I used to love bao: they are sweet, fluffy and delicious. I'm bored of them now. However, my companions dug into these guys, which is unsurprising: they are delicious, if a little boring. However, Kwong Tung does a very good rendition of them, with some of the best bao that I have had. However, I was disappointed by the char siu (roast pork) inside: I thought there was too little, and what there was not very high quality. That is a fairly common issue. Because of the labor involved in making really good chinese roast pork, only the best dim sum places make their own- most buy it from somewhere else. In Des Moines, I could imagine sourcing good Char Siu is rather difficult, so I will let it slide.

Above: Fried taro filled with meat. These were excellent- both the wrapper and the filling were superb. I had also never had these before, and would definitely order again. Andy- maybe you have had these before. They were new to me.

Above: The same dim sum, but an interior shot. They were piping hot as well.

Above: A dish of char siu (roast pork) over rice. As I said before, the char siu, which is used as a filling in a variety of dim sum, was merely OK. It wasn't bad, just not great.

Above: The single best dish of the meal: beef tripe with ginger. It was absolutely superb. The trip was tender, cooked to perfection, an delicately flavored with ginger. I loved this. Plus, it get major points for being both weird AND delicious.

Above: Jin Dai, or fried dumpling with a sweet filling. They are really good, but more of a desert. However, we devoured them. Kwong Tung's rendition was quite superb.

Above: Rice noodles with pork. The wrapping on these stood out, and I very much enjoyed them.

Overall, I really enjoyed Kwong Tung. They did a great job of making some delicious dim sum subject to the ingredients they had. I look forward to visiting again and trying some more of their dishes. I should also mention this- dim sum is not like sushi. The prices are extremely reasonable- most dishes are in the 2-3 USD range. Go there!

2nd Course

2009-01-24T19:13:00.000-08:00

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NOTE: This is part of an ongoing series of articles concerning my Europe trip. See below for links to the previous articles:
Overview

Barcelona

More Barcelona
****************

2^nd Course: Some light snacks: Zaragoza
My winter break was a marathon

Training started early: Thanksgiving. I tried to cram as much food in there as I could. Pies, turkey, cheese- I did it all. Then I went back to school.

The period before my trip was one of intense, last minute training to my digestive system: I had to be able to handle multiple rich meals a day. I trained on a rigorous diet of LA’s ethnic food: Mexican, Chinese, Japanese. I did it all, and then boarded a plane to Europe.

Barcelona was like the start of a race: I was a little disoriented and lacked discipline. I didn’t quite know what to do. In Zaragoza, I started to hit my stride. I tried to identify cute and interesting little local eateries. I gauged the climate of cafes before entering, dissected the exterior menus with a more practiced eye. At bakeries, I only went for the most exotic or delicious looking, trying to avoid the mundane or ordinary.

This is an activity one can only indulge in a city packed with restaurants, cafes and bakeries. Fortunately, Zaragoza is just that.

Above: Some more of that delicious foccacia pizza, which I bought for the train trip to Zaragoza from Barcelona. I forgot to tweak my camera settings back to normal for this picture, which is why it looks so vivid. It was actually a much more normal color.

Above: The tremendously large train station at Zaragoza. It was also quite cold, and tremendously empty.

Above: Some totally awesome street lamps in El Tubo.
My friends and I stayed in the heart of “el tubo”, a compact warren of small streets and alleys that plays host to most of the action in Zaragoza. It abuts the river on one side, with a gorgeous square dominated by two magnificent cathedrals, which cast a shadow (literally) over the entire area. When I hit the ground out of the train at 11, I wasted no time.

Above: One of the magnificent cathedrals.

I dropped my bags off at my very cute (and very family run) hotel and went to find lunch for my friends and me. We stopped at an OK little café with a prix fixe menu. It was relatively mediocre, but had a desert that was unique in my experience, called cuajada. It was essentially unsweetened panna cotta, served in a very narrow bowl, with some honey on top. When I took a spoonful, I got a little honey and a little desert. The honey then slid slightly into the indentation, making the bites subsequently less and less sweet until you were left with only the desert. While very cool, and definitely unique to me, I was not thrilled with it, or with the meal as a whole.

Above: The cuajada. You can see the honey on top.

However, my afternoon snack at Leonidas was more in keeping with my idea of a desert. It was located on the main pedestrian thoroughfare that bisects el tubo into two halves, and commanded prime real estate next to the square with the cathedrals. I entered to find stands lined with all sorts of amazing chocolate creations, but I had eyes for only one thing: waffles.

Above: The aforementioned pedestrian thoroughfare in Zaragoza. One could walk down it, and at the end see the imposing mass of the cathedral. It was filled with really cool shops of all stripes, as well as alleys that led, ever so enticingly, to food.

I should explain that a properly made gaufre (as they are called in France) is a European art that I have not seen replicated in the States. The waffle is rough, undisciplined around the edges: they do not worry about using the entire waffle maker, which gives it this incredible abstract shape. In addition, the texture is much thicker, much doughier, and the outside is very crispy. I would not be surprised if they dusted the waffle maker with sugar before pouring in the batter.

Above: Nutella Waffle. As you can see, the edges are browned. They are not in fact burned- that it actually caramelized deliciousness!

My Leonidas “street waffle” as I referred to it was topped in the only way known to civilized men: with nutella. It was incredible. Hot off the waffle maker, the nutella was slathered on haphazardly, and melted into the crisp indentations of the waffle. Delectable.

That night was Tapas night.

Tapas, for those of you who don’t know, are unique to Spain. They are small portions of food, usually either ready or very quick to cook, that one eats at bars. In cities such as Zaragoza, one hops from bar to bar, nibbling and drinking until you are both drunk and full of delicious food. I love tapas.

This was probably my favorite night of the trip.

I started off, accompanied, as always by T Dog and K Spitz, in a fairly normal bar, where I had three standards. The first was just some really good shrimp in a beer batter, hot out of the fryer. The second was cuesco de cabra: goat cheese that had been baked. Both of these were very good. I consumed these with some Spanish beer, the name of which I forget. For the rest of the night, I opted to instead go for wine, which was a good call- much more delicious.

The first two were very good: the shrimp was searingly hot, and very juicy- not at all overcooked. The cuesco de cabra was delicious, but I do love goat cheese, so it was a bit of a gimme. My next tapa, however, shined. It was a montadilla, a sub-genre of tapas which means that it is something on toast. In this case, it was a montadilla de bacalao: salted cod on toast. It was stellar- the toasted baguette was hot and crunchy, while the (fried) cod was thick, and covered in a very thick, creamy cheese that made it taste like a gratin on toast. The thing was nearly too large to fit into my mouth, which would be a theme with montadillas. I bit through, and first encounter the creamy cheese, then the crunch of the toasted baguette, and then finally the soft, creamy center of bacalao. That was really when the night started.

I ended with two more tapas: one order of jamon con choreras and a montadilla del alfochas. The first was a hard boiled egg, which had then been wrapped in jamon Serrano, dunked in batter and then deep-fried. My readers should note that I had no idea of this when I ordered- I literally simply saw a row of batter covered things, and pointed at them with no knowledge of what they contained. The moment of realization would only come after the first bite, as the taste hit my tongue and I was able to peet inside the mysterious tapa.

The second tapa- the aforementioned montadilla de alfochas- was incredible. A deep fried artichoke heart, filled with mushrooms, balanced precariously on top of toast. At this point, I was on my third glass of wine. In a later post, I will detail the rest of the night- maybe even in full multimedia splendor (movies!). Stay tuned! Suffice it to say, the rest of the night was legen-(wait for it)-dary!

The next morning, early, we left for San Sebastian. Let me just say this: you have not heard the last of tapas!

Amuse Bouche: Barcelona

2009-01-22T11:56:00.001-08:00

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NOTE: This is part of an onging series of articles concerning my Europe trip. See below for links to the previous articles:
Overview

Barcelona
****************

Just a quick article here:

I wanted to give a little bit more flesh to the article about Barcelona; maybe some more editorial comments about Barcelona, as well as our experiences there. The main lessons I took away from Barcelona was their attitude towards food, the importance, as Epicurus said, "Of not just what you eat, but with whom you eat it", and the pleasures of simple things.

Barcelonians, as I talked about in my previous article, devote the "proper" amount of respect to their food. What this means to me, is that they think about what they are eating, and with whom they eat it. I saw very little fast food in Barcelona; very little food, even, that could be eaten easily without sitting down. And that is the cornerstone of the quote above from Epicurus. Barcelonians, and Europeans in general, understand the importance of food as both a social gathering and as a necessity to live. Their culture, especially leisurely mealtimes, that last a long time, with many bottles of wine, reflect their view of the importance of the social ties that are generated through the shared experience of dining.

To wit: the picture above. At the beginning of the trip, we immediately felt this different culture of slowing down and savoring both the experience of dining with good friends, as well as the actual food. I think that is a lesson many in the world do not take away. That is the idea of taking activities that you have to perform, such as eating, and turning them into a pleasurable experience. I have found that as I try to apply this philosophy more and more that tasks that are neutral, to even mildly unpleasant, can become a simple pleasure in life is you stop and think about how you can enjoy that experience more. Often, its not much more difficult than taking a deep breath and looking around you.

End of philosophy! Here are some photos to give a sense of place to the Spanish restaurants.

Above: A menu of a bar where we went on our last morning for breakfast. You can see breakfast is 2.70 euro for a bocadillo and a drink. I cannot overstate how delicious a bocadilla de tortilla and some coffee of "chocolate fuerte"(literally: "strong chocolate") is when you just wake up.

Above: a bocadilla with Tortilla Espanol. Nummy.

Above: One of my favorite things about Europe: the signs advertising the menu. These are a visual representation of the "personality" of the restaurant, in my view. The font, the way it is decorated, all of these things give one subconscious cues about the restaurant.

1st Course: Barcelona

2009-01-20T19:31:00.000-08:00

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NOTE: This is part of an onging series of articles concerning my Europe trip. See below for links to the previous articles:
Overview
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1^st Course: An assortment of fresh seafood

Barcelona

Barcelona is a gourmet’s Disneyland. When I stepped out of my hostel to begin my first day exploring the city, I was overwhelmed, both with the scope of culinary specialties in Barcelona and the scale of the city. It is the kind of city where one can spend years and never fully know; it has a predilection to dark, windy side streets and alleys that are invariably stocked with bars, restaurants, bakeries and small markets that beckon seductively.

Above: A storefront of a butcher. There is a definite connection in Barcelona between the death of an animal, and your dinner.

Food is given serious attention in Barcelona. Women stroll along the alleys, deep in serious thought to the merits of the baguettes at a particular bakery, to the deficiencies of the tapas displayed in the window of a bar. I spent many hours during my stay wandering those back alleys, going wherever the window displays looked good.

Above: A man playing a leg of jamon serrano as a guitar. In an advertisement.

Besides my aimless, bohemian wandering, I really did have definite goals in Spain. I wanted to have paella by the seashore, and I wanted to enjoy a hearty meal of raciones, the hearty bar food of Catalunya, preferably with some of their young, sparkling white wine called cava. Neither was difficult to complete, I am happy to say.

I scratched my itch of paella at a delightful seafront restaurant along the Barceloneta; the shorefront that was renovated for the 1992 Olympics. Along the shore there are dozens of paella restaurants, all with excellent patio seating under heatlamps, because it was just slightly too cold to do without. So after a morning of exploring the seafront, it was a pleasure to sit down along the Spanish seashore and order two paella, some sangria and a few tapas as appetizers. To sate my ravenous appetites, as well as the hunger of my traveling companions, we ordered small, whole squid that had been sautéed very simply in some olive oil and garlic, as well as some croquetas de jambon: potato croquets with that succulent Spanish ham.

To say that this food was bursting with flavor would be to gloss over the delicious nuances of each of these dishes, even though they were but mere appetizers. The very small, baby squid were chewy intiailly, but quickly yielded to ones morsels, allowing you to savor the delicious combination of garlic, oil and squid- a combination that is undeniably nautical, and will, I am sure, forever take me back to that restaurant. The croquets were not as nuanced, but rather more juvenilly delicious. Who can resist the siren appeal of cheese, delicious, mouth-wateringly tender and flavorful ham, and fried potato? While not as “exotic”, they were equally delicious, and went great with some fruity Sangria.

To follow, we ordered two paellas. The first was a paella mixta: a typical seafood paella of whole shrimp, prawns, clams and mussels in a golden bed of saffron rice. The second was a paella de arroz negra: a paella with rice colored black with squid ink. It tasted strongly of ham and calamari and mussels, and was far better than the simpler seafood paella. It had all the elements that make a great meal for me: good food, great company and great location.

For dinner, we cleaned up and headed into the charming area of town know as the barri gotic; a winding sprawl of small one lane roads that contains that vast majority of the cities small, charming restaurants. We happily wandered into an inviting cava bar, which we later found was recommended by the Lonely Planet guidebook that was my bible.

We wandered in starving, as we would to most meals in Barcelona, because dinner is usually eaten at 2, and dinner can be as late as 11. The Casa Delfinn’s wood paneled ceiling was great, but what we really craved were some hearty raciones. Fortunately, the cava hit the table quickly, as did our food. We started off the omnipresent pan con tomates: a simple baguette, toasted, and then rubbed with garlic, olive oil and the flesh of a tomato. It kept the cava company as we waited for the real meal to begin. The following courses did not disappoint. The first racion was a dish of inch thick octopus tentacles: perfectly cooked, tender and flavorful, although aggressive looking. It was followed by an Iberian sampler, which included manchego cheese, jamon Serrano, copa and a morcilla sausage. We concluded with a seafood sampler of salted cod (bacalao), cuttlefish, prawns and shrimp. The meal was a wonderful sampler of Barcelona’s many specialties, and whet our appetite for slightly more sophisticated fare.

Above: A selection of montadillas; snacks on toast, in other words. From left to right, you are seeing salted cod, anchovie, and jamon serrano.

Above: One of the most crazy looking dishes. This was octopus a la catalan. On the right are some golden potatoes. The octopus, by the way, was perfect, and nearly and inch thick.

Above: Assorted mariscos (seafood). We have shrimp, prawns, squid, and then salted cod that had been cooked. This was OK- I am not a huge fan of the work needed to de-shell shrimp and prawns.

Above: That quintessential bar food: pan con tomates.

You see, while my companions and I do not mind sharing per se, we enjoy having “our own” food. Café Gloria, in the same old neighborhood as Casa Delfinn, provided exactly that on our second night, with a prix fixe menu that was the foundation of one of my favorite meals on the trip.

I should mention at this point that in Spain and France, the prix fixe menus almost always include wine; a very civilized practice. The Café Gloria, it should be noted, was no exception. Their straightforward housewine, served in an unadorned bottle, was the perfect lubricant and companion for my three course meal.

It started out with homemade cannelloni (yes- Italian!) in a cheese gratin. Following it up was some classic café food: a entrecote ternera (steak), which was gorgeously seared on the outside and juicily rare within. For desert, I had the quintessential flan. It is not my favorite, but I felt I had to get it once. My companion Tyrone picked the best main course, however: cornero al horno en su jugo (shank of lamb braised in its own juices). I should note this was to be a trend- Tyrone always seemed to pick the best looking entrees. Anyway, the lamb was flavorful and tender, and while my steak was no slouch, his entrée was far superior. We got up from dinner to discover that it was somehow 1:30 in the morning: we had been at the table for two and a half hours. I am happy to report we maintained that pleasurable dining speed for almost all of our dinners.

Above: My friend Tyrone's lamb. Excuse the camera work. I was tipsy.

I’m not going to lie about that meal: that wine definitely hit my bloodstream before the food, which really led to a splendid hour long debate concerning communism versus capitalism- a argument that was ongoing throughout the trip. However, it was a academic argument, and led to a pleasant night with no hard feelings.

Above: This desert was not as good as it looked. I am not sure what it is.

Barcelona’s dining hours cannot be bettered. My day started bright and early. I would hit a cerverceria (a bar) or a cafeteria for some coffee and a pastry.

In general, I was not the most impressed by Spain’s pastries- I think that the Germans cannot be bear in the noble art of making a hearty breakfast treat, and the French are far superior in the flaky, more delicate style of pastry-smithing. The arena in which Spain excels is the savory pastry, that golden-brown pinnacle of fast snack, the empanada. An empanada, when done correctly, is a flaky, delicious crust that is folded over a savory, meaty interior. In the US, I have seen that filling be either ham, beef, chicken, seafood or vegetables. In Barcelona, the only filling I ever saw was tuna with tomatoes and olives. Make no mistake-this wasn’t just some grocery store “Chicken of the Sea”, water packed tuna- this was tuna with some real flavor! Juicy and tender! An with every bite, delicious little morsels of olive explode in your mouth. My first empanada was such a flavor revelation that I literally could not identify the filling when I first bit into it. I had to become a culinary private eye.

Above: Emapanada de aton- that delicious tuna emapanada.

This was not the first time I had to assume that roll- throughout the trip, I had to use all five senses to tease apart what a dish actually was, especially as we left Spain and France, where I had a basic grasp of the language. While the menus were all in English, the descriptions could be of any quality. This was really a blessing in disguise. For example, the dish I described above- cornero al horno en su jugo. On the menu, it was described simply as “baked lamb”. The more literal translation is “lamb roasted in the oven in its own juices”, or, as I would title it, “some of the delectable, tender lamb you will ever have. It has been braised with a delicious blend of spices in its own juices, and it now falling apart tender. Don’t even go for the knife- you won’t need it”. Obviously, that is too long for a menu; however, I think you get my point. We would find frequent surprises like that on our travels.

Back to meal times: Barcelonians are night people. At 8, we would just be catching the bars and coffee shops opening up. We would sight see until about 10 to 11, when I would usually swing by someplace for a bocadillo and some wine. Bocadillos are the ubiquitous Spanish sandwiches, made on a relatively thin baguette. The fillings can be over any variety, although the most common varieties are tortilla (an egg preparation very similar to a frittata- served room temperature), jamon Serrano or sabrosada- a type of delicious sausage. However, the filling can be anything.

Above: Two bocadillas and a delicious cafe au lait, or as it is called in spain, "cafe con leche".

The bocadillia would give me the inner strength to continue onto a late lunch- around 3 in Barcelona, and a bit earlier in the rest of Spain. Lunches could be anything- from paella, to foccacia pizzas and apple crumble (pictured below). It really depended on our mood.

Above: Foccacia pizza's are big in spain. I don't really have a better word for them- essentially, they were toppings on a very light foccacia bread. This one, which I had for lunch in Barcelona, was the best in Spain. On top are some delicious sausage chunks, as well as a thick layer of well caramelized onions. I should mention they are also quite large- this was about 8 inches long, 4 wide, and at least 2 thick.

Above: Desert. Some of the best apple crumble I have ever had. It was absolutely incredible- mouth-wateringly flavorful.

Around 7 or 8, I would generally get a trifle puckish- snack time! This could be anything. Oftentimes, it would be whatever I picked up in a market- from tapas, to chocolate, to more bocadillas.

Finally, around 12 to 1 we would have dinner, as I have described. The great thing about these hours is that they let me eat the food of three days in one- very handy! Keep in mind that I was also snacking on any sort of unique candy bar, pastry or other culinary delight that was for sale. Damn those Spaniards and their gorgeous window displays! See below: the beautifully sculpted marzipan creations that some of the more gourmet candy shops specialize in.

Above: Some marzipan creations in the window of a pasteleria

Above: My friend Kyle (left) and myself (right) on the plane to Barcelona.

Restaurant Review: Django, Des Moines

2009-01-19T18:35:00.000-08:00

Food tour of Iowa: Django, Des Moines
Django is one of the many hip, excellent new restaurants that is turning Des Moines into one of the better cities to go for some food. I have had the pleasure of dining at Django twice, and cannot recommend it highly enough to anyone visiting our little corner of the Midwest.

The first time I walked in to the restaurants distinctive lobby in Downtown Des Moines I was struck immediately by it’s motto- “All French, no attitude”. While I don’t know how my French friends might feel about the entire menu, Django delivers some extremely solid Gallic cuisine at prices that are fairly easy to stomach.

I have had the pleasure of dining at Django twice. The first time, I dined on an appetizer of some of the best sweetbreads I have ever had. They were served with brioche points (brioche is, quite literally, a sweet bread- very clever), and were delectable. I had chosen a vegetarian dining companion, so I had the entire plate to myself. For an entrée, I ordered the sea scallops on a bed of ratatouille. I know- seafood in Iowa? However, it was a great entrée. The ratatouille was perfectly cooked- not to well done, but not too crunchy. The scallops were similarly well done. Overall, it was a solid entrée, although it paled in comparison the short ribs Bourgogne, which I ordered on my next visit.

The short ribs were falling off the bone tender, and coated with a delectable red wine sauce. There was nothing delicate about the presentation: it was a big hunk of meat, served on a bed of green beans (which, might I add, accompanied it perfectly) with “Parisian gnocchi”. I had never encountered that type of gnocchi before, but a quick Google search confirms my suspicions: it is similar to Italian gnocchi, but with more cheese, and I believe it was fried. The gnocchi, whatever their composition, absorbed the red wine sauce perfectly.

My first companion ordered the wild mushroom crepes, which were good, but a little plain in my opinion- they needed a little something to make them more interesting. My companion on the second visit ordered the hanger steak with a bordelaise sauce, which was served with some of the most delicious pommes frites I have ever had the pleasure of tasting. The steak was similarly good.

I had desert once- a baked apple galette, which was flaky and delicious, with a nice cold scoop of vanilla ice cream, which slowly melted on the warm apples. A fantastic end to a great meal.
To conclude: Django delivers extremely good food, in a wonderful atmosphere at very reasonable prices. Go there.

Europe: An Appetizer

2009-01-15T10:00:00.000-08:00

The party is over. I shaved two weeks’ beard. My jeans all fit a bit more snuggly. My room is a mess, with clothes, guidebooks, maps and foreign currencies in every corner, much like confetti. My cheeks, like those of the Iowan squirrel, are chubby, and I have enough cushion around my midriff to see me through long Iowan nights in February. All this evidence leads to one inescapable conclusion: I am back from my Europe trip!

This is simply a foreword, a teaser, an appetizer if you will, to preface the articles proper. Here is some set-up of my trip.

Over the summer, I shanghai’d two friends of mine to join me on a trip through Europe. Tyrone, a friend from Grinnell College, and Kyle, a friend from High School who is currently studying in Copenhagen, agreed to accompany me. We had six destinations, selected (partly) to get me the greatest culinary exposure possible in two weeks. We started in Barcelona, the great Catalan food mecca, and then went West, as young men are want to do, to Zaragoza. Continuing on, we visited friends in the Pays Basque region of France, just over the border from San Sebastian. Moving North to wine country, we visited Bordeaux. Finally, we cut across into the cold heart of Germany to Berlin, and then finally north to Copenhagen. I was gone from the 29th of December to the 14th of January. I will present each of the six cities in its own article, picking only the most delectable stories so as to allow all to vicariously live my adventure through Europe.

First, allow me to give some thanks. I would like to thank first, my parents for giving me the support to make this trip a reality. I would like to thank Tyrone and Kyle for putting up with my constant forays into bakeries, as they tried valiantly to sight see. I would like to express my most sincere thanks to Sylvie and Jean-Michelle Lambert, who were inexpressibly gracious hosts to us in Urrgune. Thank you all.

Food Tour of California: Farmers Markets and Sisterly Crepes

2008-12-28T13:56:00.000-08:00

I realize I hadn't posted this yet: allow me to quote the Des Moines Cityview Newspaper:

Best New Food Photographer: Ben Gordon (www.foodtourofiowa.blogspot.com)
This Grinnell College student and Phoenix Café line chef created a well-researched, photographically splendid Iowa food journal.

However, to say that I merely felt remiss when my last post- in which I regal my dear readers with tempting prose-based glimpses into the life of culinary opulence I have been leading- contained no pictures! Therefore, this post is dedicated to the writer of the article quoted above.

Anyway, on this wonderful Sunday morning before I head off to Barcelona and my sister heads off to camp, we decided to stop by the wonderful local farmers market, grab some fruits and make ourselves some delicious crepes!

Above: My favorite salsa guy's selection. The one on the far right- the jalapeno and garlic- is particularly delicious.

Above: My dad grabbed a tamale on the way out. We haven't indulged yet due to the crepes, but I am sure it will be delicious. (EDIT: Have now indulged. Was excellent.)

Above: Gratuitous food porn to tease poor snow locked Iowans. And yes, all that food is as good as it looks.

Above: Close up shot of the pomegranates and avocados. It was from this same vendor that we bought the apples and pears which would be swaddled in a delectable crepe.

Above: Some more greenstuffs. I love swiss chard.

Above: Two shots from the sprouted salad stand. He has all sorts of seeds that have sprouted that are delicious mixed into salads. During the summer I buy ample quantities to mix into my lunch salads all week. However, during this break I have regressed into some of the WORST eating habits. No salads for me!

This is a shot that I couldn't get in Iowa. After my family and I got back from the market, my sister and I whipped up some crepes.

As you can see, I just sauteed some pears and apples with a little lemon juice, cinnamon and vanilla. They didn't need any sugar: they were absolutely delectable without it. For those that love varietal names, I only ever buy Fuji apples and asian pears. In the back left is a simple blueberry syrup I made. The ingredients were similarly simple: 1 tablespoon maple syrup, the juice of a lemon and a pouch of frozen blueberries. I threw in a tiny bit of water and cooked the entire thing down until it was reduced to about 60% of the original volume.

For my crepes, I just threw in some pears and blueberries. My sister and dad went for the apples. I apologize for the lack of pictures of the crepes: I was either too busy cooking or eating. Let me tell you right now, it took serious will power to whip out the camera to take the above shot rather than a fork.

Tomorrow I leave for Barcelona, so don't expect any updates for about 3 weeks. However, I want to take pictures of everything I eat. For those interested, here is my itinerary:

Barcelona
Zaragoza
San Sebastian
Bordeaux
Berlin
Copenhagen

-Ben

Food tour of MY VACATION: Part I

2008-12-28T09:46:00.001-08:00

Hey everyone--

I have been bad about posting- mostly because I have been so busy with family and friends I haven't had the time nor inclination to talk about what I have been up to. Here is a quick roundup of my culinary experiences so far:

Senor Fish: Delicious fish tacos and shrimp burritoes
Manna Korean BBQ: My friends Andy, Chris, Konrad, his 3 buddies consumed a tremendous amount of food between the 8 of us. It was ridiculous. Probably my favorite meal by company of the break
Dim Sum: Nuff said. I love Dim Sum so much. Probably my largest culinary regret of living in Iowa is the lack of good dim sum.
Cafe Bariloche: A South American restaurant near my beach house in Ventura. We had 3 outstandingly different dishes, which is a new one for me. The amount of times a restaurant serves me a truly original dish now is so rare. Cafe Bariloche was a breathe of fresh air
HC Seafood: a little hole in the wall fish market near my beach house. My friends and I ordered all sorts of fried delights: scallops, calamari, fish and chips. You watch them dunk the pieces into the batter and fry. Please note: this is a very japanese place, they bread everything with Panko bread crumbs. Those are the japanese super bread crumbs.
Sushi Midori: My friends Andy and Chris return. The refrain between the three of us on this trip is "Are you hungry!". It is part battle cry, part query about the availablity of them for lunch. Anyway, we packed away a ridiculous amount of all you can eat sushi. Notable highlights: delicious unagi (eel), hawaaian king mackerel, some of the most tender salmon I have had in a while, as well as a delightful selection of hand and cut rolls.
Dish in La Canada: had a delectable belgian waffle with strawberry compote: a tradition of mine.
Apple Crisp. I am sinfully fond of a great apple crisp, and will eat the entire thing if not watched. We made a really fun one, which my family and I decoured while watching old episodes of Julia Child.
Home-made oatmeal with an apple-cranberry compote. As soon as I woke up and came upstairs to find a pot of oats simmering away, I immediately lept into action (clad only in boxers and glasses) to make a cranberry apple compote.
Venison loin with a raspberry vinegar sauce. I made this to take to a friend (Kyle's) party upon his return fron Copenhagen. It was called a Hyggefest, which is apparently a type of Danish party in which everyone brings loads of food and you sit around and catch up. It was a great party, with some incredible food, and I want to recognize the entire culinary lineup:
- Swedish Meatballs with gravy (delicious)
- Asparagus and potato salad (a welcome spin on potato salad)
- Cheddar and pecan bread (great)
- Chocolate and marshmallow bundt cake (this sounds really plain, but was in fact INCREDIBLE)

I think that is everything- one more anecdote before I leave regarding probably the best family dinner I have had. Yesterday night, my sister and dad and I went to a movie (Valkyrie) and then out to dinner at Cafe Bariloche. I want to tell this story to illustrate how my family does business. We walk into the restaurant, having already combed the menu online. We sit down, and order our three dishes, my dad ordering for all of us. The waitress compliments us on our familial togetherness, to which I reply with something like, "We don't mess around with food". We share all three main dishes, with my sister, who I should mention is 15, tucking into the food like a champ and discussing it right a long with us. She is already a gourmet with more distinction and adventurous habits than many will be in their entire lives (at sushi over Fall break she ate octopus- quite the feat for a girl her age!)

After eating dinner, we spend the entire car ride home discussing the three foods with which we could not live without. If you are curious, they were something like: pizza, good green salads, great cheese (my sister's selection), pasta, noodle bowls (either pho or ramen) and candy lands. For desert, I whipped up some candy lands, which are essentially ice cream with all the toppings. Quite the great dinner.

The Red Avocado, Iowa City

2008-12-16T19:54:00.001-08:00

I am just posting away today, mostly because I am playing catch-up with reviews.

Anyway, this last Saturday my friend Tyrone and I took an excursion to the bustling metropolis of Iowa City, to get some lunch and chat. We stopped first at the New Pioneer Co-Op, the original. I have already profiled their Coralville branch, which I like much more- bigger and better equipped. However, this one had a lot of character.

It also had the advantage of being right across the street from our brunch spot- an all vegetarian restaurant called the Red Avocado, of which I had heard a lot.

The interior was very cool as well. We sat down, and the very attentive waitress (she really was very good) fetched us two Americano's, which were just the thing for a cold and wet morning. We waited for our food nursing our coffee, and I don't mind saying I was very happy when my sampler plate came.

On the top is the french toast, with some jam. Below that in the middle is a tofu scramble. Bottom right is a barley and black bean salad, and to the left is marinated tempeh.

Let me start by saying I wish I enjoyed this meal.

Don't get me wrong; it was perfectly decent, if a little expensive. It just wasn't very good, and at 10 dollars for the meal, I was expecting much better. For all the items on the plate, I got bored after a bite.It was just...flavorless. For all the items except the french toast, the seasoning seemed to consist of a mild level of curry, and then nothing. The french toast was good, but I mean, its fried bread: of course it was good!

Bottom line: if you are a vegan or vegetarian, you will enjoy the Red Avocado. If you eat meat, don't waste your time here.

Pancake Dinner

2008-12-16T19:34:00.000-08:00

Hey Everyone-

This wasn't so much a food visit as a study break at college. But there was food. And it was awesome. I will let the pictures speak for themselves on this one honestly, because basically all it entailed were firefighters making us some delicious pancakes!

Above: Some of Grinnell's finest at the helm of one of the two tremendous griddles they ported in to cook pancakes with.

Above: The toppings! Although this doesn't do it justice, we had:

Chocolate Chips

Strawberries

Chocolate Sauce

Syrups of all sorts

Three types of milk and two types of juice

The Grinnell humance society brought in therapy dogs for us to pet! One such adorable example, above.

They also gave us tons of games- the event was in the auditorium. Above, hungry hungry hippos

An example of a incredibly crafted pancake. Strawberries and whipped cream

Behind the scenes: Another fire(wo)man mixes up some delicious pancake batter, with the aid of a drill.

The dead soldiers that gave their contents to fill our tummies!

Cooking up some blueberry pancakes.

You can see their dispenser on the far right, which rolled on tracks and dispensed batter from a reservoir. Very cool.

Houston Dougherty dispenses whipped cream

Mmmmm....Blueberries!

My friend Collin brought in Nutella with which to slather his chocolate chip pancakes. This was the best idea ever.

Lyle Bauman, who is also the head supervisor of student employees in the Grinnell Dining Hall. He is an incredibly nice man.

A student (my friend Stephanie) enjoying her pancake and games.

Neo Morake, our Student Government President loves her some pancakes!

Gateway Market and Cafe

2008-12-10T17:34:00.001-08:00

The Gateway market and café in Des Moines is a visit to which I always look forward. There is nothing more pleasant than browsing their interesting and diversely stocked shelves, enjoying the ample samples with which they thoughtfully provide their patrons along the way, and then settling down by the fire in the attached café with a big bowl of their delicious ramen.

Gateway Market was started by George Fomaro, the same genius behind Django, one of my Des Moines faves, and South Union Bakery. His talent and business acumen extend to the stores; the bakery is delicious, and the selection of food manages to mix practicality with diversity. It is the kind of place where you can do everyday shopping for your bread, butter and produce, but still find new and exciting things with which to spice up dinner. I do not know who looks for their products, but he or she should be given a metal.

The café is similarly good. I have had the opportunity to sample most of their selection, but in the winter I cannot resist the appeal of their ramen. The broth is rich and hearty, although I had one unpleasant experience (at their West Des Moines store, which I would not recommend) in which the broth was much too salty from soy sauce- something that has yet to happen to me in their downtown location. Their slider sampler is similarly excellent, containing 3 different sandwiches in small portions, and their breakfast options all are sure to please.

Reichert's Dairy Air

2008-11-22T17:57:00.000-08:00

Above: The real reason people read my blog. Pictures of goats (see below for more!)

I knew Lois Reichert and I would get a long when I first emailed her about visiting. In her response, she was sorry to say that she would be in Roccaverano, Italy, as a delegate to the Slow Foods convention. She would then be working with a small Italian goat cheese dairy nearby to learn the secrets to making Italian robbiola cheese. She could not squeeze a visit in before her Italy trip either, because she was going to be at the National Goat Cheese Competition, in Sonoma.

As I read that (rather meaty) first correspondence, I reconsidered my career choices in international business. Being a goat cheese maker sounded pretty good! However, much to the relief of my parents, the jet setting life Lois leads was not enough to tempt me away from my course of study in economics.

However, now that Lois is back in the states, I went to visit her. Well, let me rephrase that: I had scheduled a time to visit with her, but bumped into her one week early at the New Pioneer Co-Ops sample fair- what a small state (see my previous post)! After tasting her cheeses in the in the busy atmosphere, we vowed to talk more during my visit the upcoming Thursday.

When I first stepped into the dairy, I was overwhelmed. It was very different, to say the least: more like a kitchen than a barn. It was all aluminum counters, pyrex beakers and thermometers. In a corner, a rack held bulging vari-colored sacks of something dripping into a bucket. A sink contained slotted containers with a cheese-like substance. Perhaps Mario Batali’s adventures on the Food Network had made me believe that cheese is made in ancient, underground rooms, where aged artisans turn blooming rind cheeses amidst the shrieks of the French mistral.

Above: The chevre may not look too appealing while it is hung to separate the whey from the butter cream, it turns into a delicious product.

Above: Lois first run of robiola. While she in Turin, Italy for the Slow Food convention she worked with a small robiola producer. I will report back on how hers turns out!

That may sound like criticism; believe me, I mean no such thing. Lois represents, to me, the epitome of what I would like to term the “new” food artisan: clinical and clean, trying new things that are informed, but build upon, the wisdom of the ages, but with a passion for excellence and a perfectionism that comes from having a clear vision of what you want. Both Lois and Herb, of La Quercia Prosciuterria (whom I featured previously), have this vision, and it characterizes these new artisans that are reshaping the culinary landscape of Iowa.

Anyway, enough about that. Let me tell you about Reichert’s Dairy Air!

Lois’ dairy is the first micro-dairy in Iowa. From her herd of approximately 15 Nubian and La Mancha goats, she gets 10 gallons a day-barely enough to satisfy customer demand. However, she is more focused on creating the perfect cheese rather than making large amounts of a mediocre product. Her philosophy of quality over quantity expresses itself in every detail of her operation, and it springs from her passion for her goats and cheese. For example, her goats, produce very little milk, but what little they do produce is of the best quality, with plenty of the delicious butter cream that makes good chevre- the main product of Lois’ dairy. Lois milks them one at a time in a very tidy and clean milking parlor- a necessity in the cold Iowa winters! The small yield of high quality milk provides her with the optimal starting point to produce some of the finest chevre I have ever tasted. She is also a perfectionist and adventurer: while we talked, I was amazed by the amount of uses and things she had tried, from new chevre flavorings to whole different cheeses (such as blooming rind, brie style cheeses) and yogurts.

Above: The two goats on the right (brown, without big ears) are Nubians. The one on the left, with the larger ears, is a La Mancha. Now you can impress people at parties with your knowledge of goats!

While I was there, I tasted her plain, cranberry walnut and roasted red pepper chevre’s, as well as a feta. They were all delicious, and dare I say it, the prime exemplars of what chevre should taste like. They had the creamy texture and taste, with a pronounced mineral flavor that lacked the “goaty” taste that drives many away from chevre. The flavored chevre’s show insight into Lois’ impeccable sense of taste as a chef, not just as a cheesemaker. The cranberry walnut tasted, first and foremost of the cheese, and then the chevre taste is complemented, not overpowered, by the taste of walnuts and cranberries. The roasted red pepper, again, serves as an enhancement to the natural purity and deliciousness of the cheese. Her feta though, really was a showstopper. It was salty, with that delectable mineral finish that I always can detect store bought cheeses striving to imitate and then failing at. Alice Waters, a shared idol of Lois and myself, would be completely unsurprised by Lois’ results: Lois’ “secret”, if you can call it that, is simple, old fashioned trial and error, combined with the freshest and highest quality ingredients. All this is motivated by one thing: love of her goats, their milk, and the cheese. I realized this vividly when we stepped outside into the chilly breath of a Iowa winter in the barn.

Her love of goats was instantly obvious: they were more like dogs in their personality than farm animals. The Nubians pushed their heads up to be patted, and they flocked to Lois with obvious affection. I could tell immediately that was why she makes her cheeses.

And her love of chevre and her goats have not gone un-rewarded or un-recognized. At the extremely competitive National Goat Cheese competition in Sonoma, Lois took home 2^nd in the unflavored feta category, 2^nd in the unflavored chevre category, and first in the flavored chevre category. After tasting the cheeses, I am unsurprised by her results, simply happy that the rest of the world recognizes the superb work Lois is doing.

Above: Lois proudly shows her three ribbons (two second place, one first place!) from the highly competitive Sonoma goat cheese competition.

Artisan chefs like Lois are reshaping how the world should think about Iowa. They are tapping into Iowa rich natural resources to make products that are truly world class, and they are doing so with a modesty and perfectionism that is unmistakably Midwestern. I don’t exaggerate when I say that Lois should be a model to anyone considering making any product, culinary or otherwise.

Food Tour of Iowa: Iowa Farm Families

2008-11-18T18:52:00.000-08:00

Food Tour of Iowa: C and C Farms (of Iowa Farm Families)

If La Quercia’s prosciutto was the food product I most wanted to see, the pork industry is the one that I most wanted to write and educate people about when I started this blog.

In my opinion, factory farmed pigs, pumped full of hormones, antibiotics and steroids, are one of the worst travesties in the modern food landscape, and epitomize the change in the food landscape of foods into “products”. The flavorless, tough and fatty cuts of meat the Hormel’s of the world turn out don’t deserve to be called food, and have unnecessarily soured many people to the delicious and healthy meat that is pork. The same can be said of so many things: of picture perfect tomatoes that are flavorless, of honeydew melons that are a gorgeous green, but taste of nothing. It’s an epidemic.

Thank goodness, Iowa Farm Families are trying to change that perception, at least with pork. They popped up on my radar screen about a week ago, when my delightful neighborhood grocery store started carrying their delicious looking cuts, from chops to ham to bacon. They all looked great, with good marbling and very little fat. Their pork also appealed to me because it was in small packages. For a student, being able to buy a pork chop that weights a quarter of a pound means that I will actually be able to eat it without freezing it: a godsend. However, I know how labeling and packaging can be misleading, and I didn’t want to be fooled. Perhaps anticipating this, IFF thoughtfully provides a pamphlet of who they are, and why their pork is superior, and worth the (very minor, in my opinion) price premium. This of course piqued my curiosity, and made me want to find out more. To find out the difference in person, I visited one of the “farm families” down the road, about 20 miles away (how’s that for local?).

C&C farms is owned by Craig and Corey Daumann. However, they had to be absent, so I was led around by Steve McNeal, director of marketing for IFF. The first difference between commodity pork and IFF pork, Steve explained, is the breed. All IFF pigs are Duroc hogs, which have a good, marbled flesh but overall lower fat content. This makes for healthier food. In addition, IFF hogs are never given antibiotics, hormones or synthetic growth chemicals. Instead, they are allowed to stay with their mothers longer to grow up large enough to weather the harsh Iowa climate. This means that the final product is not artificially enhanced, as it usually is in larger factory farm setups. You can even feel this difference in IFF pork: the flesh is much firmer, less watery and more tender than a comparable Hormel chop.

In addition, they are not “confinement farmed”- contained in a cage that leaves them unable to do more than scarcely turn around, if that. Instead, they are raised in “hoop” barns, in which they can frolic and walk around. This makes for a happier pig, as well as flesh that has had some exercise. From my experience on the farm, I could definitely see friskiness and running around- those pigs were having a good time! Steve assured me that the lack of hormones and synthetic growth additives, presence of the ability to exercise and unique breed combined to create some of the best pork in Iowa.

But does this pay off? I did the work to find out.

Having sampled a variety of their chops, bacons and other cuts, I have to say that IFF makes some of the most delicious pork products in the market. While cooking with their meat, I used fewer spices and marinades, as the tender and delicious flavor of the pork was front and center with their product, in a way that I had rarely tasted before. For their pork chops, I like to just chop them up and stir-fry then with a little soy sauce; they need nothing more. They impart their own unique and delicious flavor to whatever they are cooked with.

What Iowa Farm Families is doing is extremely laudable, and gourmets everywhere should celebrate their efforts. Their commitment to a return to local, real foods that, first and foremost taste good, is something that is lost all too often in today’s world. I tip my hat to them, and look forward to a delicious culinary relationship with their pork.

Food Tour of Iowa: New Pioner Cooperative

2008-11-17T14:48:00.000-08:00

Food Tour of Iowa: New Pioneer Cooperative and the Local Foods Festival

I love the Iowan attitude towards giving food to strangers: Please! Take some!

That seemed to be the motto of the many different vendors who were present at the Coralville branch of the New Pioneer Cooperative Grocery Store. First, I’m going to talk about the fabulous vendors and local food producers who were present, and then discuss why the New Pioneer Co-op is such a representative Iowan store.

When I walked into NP this beautiful Sunday morning, I was immediately faced with two types of home made applesauce, from apples grown not 20 miles away. With a shameless greed that I have developed since starting the blog, I devoured both samples and squirreled away the business card. This would typify my visit.

The festival was lively, with music from local bands The Beggerman and Gilded Bats, which set a lively mood that definitely perked me up. Local restaurants, such as the Red Avocado and Falafel Oasis were represented, as were growers of apples and chestnuts, and food producers, such as Sutliff Cider and Reicherts Goat Dairy.

I will just run down a bulleted list of the independent producers who were there, and then I will discuss the samples that the store (which houses its own bake house and delightful dairy) was offering.

-The Red Avocado: A local (and very popular) vegetarian and vegan restaurant was giving out samples of it delicious veggie burger, as well as its delicious vegan-cheeses, which were served on top of crackers with a smidge of Red Pepper Jelly. Both were delectable. The Veggie burger didn’t strive to re-create beef flavor- instead, it tried for its own vegetable heartiness, an endeavor in which it succeeded. The cheese spreads lacked the consistency, but not the unami flavor, of real brie and mozzarella- a delicious (and healthy!) alternative for cheese, if it is ever needed. Link: http://www.theredavocado.com

Above: The Red Avocado's table. On the right are some of their dairy-free cheeses.

-Cocina Del Mundo: A local spice blender, she had a particularly delicious spread of home-made samples, ranging from delicious quiches to a hearty veggie stew. See picture below

Above: Cocina Del Mundo's delicious quiches (on the left)

-Annes Gluten Free bread: A vendor of ready-made gluten free bread mixes. They showcased four different types, the mixes for which were all available: herb, pumpkin, banana and wheat. Their gluten free nature, atleast to me, was not readily distinguishable: they tasted simply like delicious breads. The highlight of the booth? Their banana bread. Link: http://glutenevolution.com/

-Sutliff Cider: A local cider maker of both hard and soft varieties. I much preferred the soft; I felt the hard sacrificed apple flavor. Link: http://www.sutliffcider.com/Sutliff%20Cider/Welcome.html

-Reichert’s Dairy Air: A local Goat Cheese dairy in Knoxville. I am actually going to visit her this Thursday, so stay tuned for more news about her and her dedication to Slow Food and Goat Cheese! At the fair, she had samples of her plain, chipotle, cranberry-walnut and herb chevre’s. They were all delicious. Link: http://www.reichertsdairyair.com/

-Grass Run Farms: Definitely the best smelling booth; they were grilling up beautiful hamburger sliders, which enclosed some of the most tender and flavorful beef I have had in a long time. I look forward to trying to visit them in the future. Link: http://www.grassrunfarm.com/

-Falafel Oasis: Another local restaurant, they had samples of their pita, both in the fried and un-fried variety, along with some delicious Hummus. Based on the quality of their pita (thick and flavorful) I look forward to getting a Falafel from them when I am next in Iowa City.

There was also a booth from Kalona Organics. For notes about them, I direct my dear readers to an earlier post in which I visit them.

In addition, the NP was showcasing many of its delicious products. Their bakery was giving out liberal samples of their delicious pecan and pumpkin pies. The deli had huge slabs of a delectable onion tart for the taking. Their ready-made lunch section had samples of their California rolls. All of their products gave me the utmost faith that any product made at or retailed by NP will be of the utmost quality and taste.

However, they did not just have fantastic foods that were made on site. They also were showcasing their impressive selection of bulk foods, such as nuts and cereals, as well as their jams. Overall, I was extremely impressed with the entire NP operation- from their on site bake house, to their dedication to only stocking high quality and local products. If you are ever in Iowa City, I cannot recommend a stop at the New Pioneer Co-Op Enough- either to dine on one of their delicious sandwiches or ready made lunches, or to stock up on high quality produce, meat or dry goods.

Above: New Pioneer Co-Op's staggering collection of bulk goods- they had everything from nuts, to flours to cereals.

La Quercia Prosciutteria

2008-11-13T20:05:00.000-08:00

Food Tour of Iowa: La Quercia

This was a notable visit for me. You see, La Quercia was the place that inspired me to travel around Iowa and look for local foods and local producers. To me, it is an exemplar of how I think food should be produced: Herb Eckhouse, the owner and lead prosciutto maker at La Quercia, describes what he does as making food, not making a product. I could not agree more fully. Both he and his wife, Kathy, are prime examples of people who live and preach the idea of “real” foods.

Herb’s commitment to quality is evident in every part of the prosciutto production process at La Quercia. From the rigorous standards with which he selects his pork, to the scientific precision with which he controls the curing process, everything in La Quercia speaks volumes about Herb’s unstinting commitment to creating the best prosciutto he can.

It all starts with local, organically raised ham, which he gets from a handful of local purveyors, depending on what the final product will be. All the pork is from local, sustainably raised animals. The reason for this is obvious: only three ingredients are ever in his products: pork, sea salt and spices. The essence of great prosciutto, he told me, is the rich concentrated flavor of the pork after it has been cured. This is only possible when you start with best pork.

Above: The fresh hams start with a chilling period, which emulates the fall and winter.

After the pork has been sourced, it is brought by truck to the state-of-the-art prosciuterria at La Quercia. There, a variety of climate and humidity controlled room’s mimic the four seasons, in order to produce prosciutto that is not too dry or salty. At the most basic level, prosciutto is very easy to make. Italian peasants originally made it, in order to preserve the meat so that it could be eaten in the winter. However, there is nothing simple in the process Herb employs today, although the product speaks volumes to its correctness. Essentially, the entire process simply involves rubbing the ham with sea salt, and perhaps spices, and then curing it over a long time. However, Herb has perfected his technique with a state of the art curing process. His involves a set of rooms that cool and warm the prosciutto slowly, so that the salt has the optimal conditions to extract the water from the ham and concentrate the innate flavor of the organic Iowa pork. All of Herb’s equipment is imported from Italy, and a computer controls the humidity and temperate of each room individually.

Above: The central computer the ensures that La Quercia is cured in the optimal conditions

As we walked through the rooms, I saw the results of the process at each step. The hams were slowly condensing and becoming smaller, as the salt leached the water out. Herb is currently expanding his operation, so as to be able to approximately double his weekly output in response to strong consumer demand.

Above: As you can see, the hams become more and more condensed and finished. The second photo is of an experimental batch, where Herb cured the entire leg. Usually, the ham is separated. Note the yellowing of the salt cure.

Above: The coppa; a lightly smoked and delicious product.

But the real question is, what are the results like? I am happy to report that Herb’s perfectionism yields some of the best pork I have ever tasted. Considering the complexity of the process, the result, when seen on a plate, is deceptively simple: a gorgeous ruby-red slice of prosciutto, with some snow-white fat on the bottom. To taste it is to know the essence of pork and ham. It had a pronounced flavor, which is very simple and very strong. Even minutes later, I could still distinctly taste the prosciutto’s unctuous flavor. It was incredible. You don’t have to take my word for it; no less prestigious foodies than Robert Parker and Mark Bittman have given the prosciutto of La Quercia their highest regards. The list of chefs who use La Querica Prosciutto is no less impressive; Mario Batali and Wolfgang Puck both are users.

Above: Boxes ready to be shipped out to eager gourmands and restaranteurs

Afterwards, we chatted about matters of importance to the slow foods movement. Herb, like myself, is a fervent believer in the necessity of creating food, not a product, and doing so in the best way one can. I can honestly say that if every food producer approached their work with the honesty, integrity and pride with which Herb approaches his, the world would be a good deal closer to perfection.

Food Tour of Iowa: Wine Tour of the Amana Colonies

2008-11-09T14:55:00.000-08:00

Food Tour of Iowa: Visits

Wine Tour

Hello dear readers!

Sorry I have been so long updating; school, in cahoots with a very pleasant Fall Break in California, have kept me too occupied to post much. However, this last Saturday I had a touch of wanderlust and headed out to the Amana colonies to sample some of their gourmet delights.

My itinerary for the day was fairly simple: I was going to go up and down the main drag (it’s a very small colony) and go into fun and interesting looking shops. In the end, I wound up visiting Millstream Brewery, Collectively Iowa (a wine distributor), the Amana Smokehouse, Ackerman Winery and the germanically named “chocolate haus”.

The visit did not start off well at Millstream; while they produce some very fine beers, which I sampled, the brewer was not in and the tap was manned by a young man whose main qualifications were enthusiasm and friendliness over knowledge. The beers were sampled, a Oktober lager and a winter ale, were both very good, with hearty flavor obviously informed by the frigidity of the air.

We then traveled up the road to Collectively Iowa, a wine distributor with a very comfortable tasting area, staffed by a pleasantly well-informed older woman. There, we sampled some of Iowa and the Midwest’s more serious grape wines, which were good, although they had a much stronger mineral note than the varietals I had encountered before. In addition, we tried a cranberry wine, which was very good. Similar to a very concentrated cranberry juice, it had a sophisticated kick that would go extremely well with a smoky Thanksgiving turkey- or, on that note, a good smoky pork chop, like the ones we smelled cooking next door at the Smokehouse.

In addition to delectable smoked pork chops, a personal favorite of mine, the Smokehouse makes country-cured hams, summer sausages, jerky and turkey. They also make a variety of sauces and dips to accompany the meat. The ham, sampled both with and without a horseradish-corn cob jelly, was delicious. It was melt-in-your-mouth delicious, and accompanied very well by the jelly. The two varieties of summer sausage, which is similar to a cured, ready to head salami, were also good, and brought back memories of simple summer sandwiches at my Grandparents house, assembled with thick slices of summer sausage, fresh bakery rolls and butter. The jerky, unfortunately, was very bad. It lacked any sort of taste, and was too tough to eat at all comfortably. However, the turkey breast was delicious, and my host assured me that they were currently working on the whole turkeys that many families buy for their Thanksgiving meal.

Ackerman winery was my final stop. A family producer of over 20 fruit wines, they produce such unique flavors as dandelion, rhubarb, apricot, cranberry and many more. While most of the wines were interesting and far too sweet for any type of large consumption, certain wines stood out. The tart cherry was excellent, as was the cranberry. They would do well with a smoky or spicy cheese appetizer, as well as perhaps for cooking. Fruit wines, while illuminating, are not something that will end up in my cellar.

I departed the colonies with wanderlust fulfilled and a new appreciation for the Midwest. The Amanas are a representative sample of Iowa; making do with what they have.

Kalona Organics

2008-10-27T19:39:00.001-07:00

Food Tour of Iowa: Kalona Organics

Because I went to driving school in LA, I was not taught certain driving skills that might be important in other parts of the country. I don’t really know how to drive on snow, nor do I know the etiquette about passing an Amish farmer who is in a horse and buggy. Do I tailgate? Do I pass? It’s things like this that they really should teach you. Anyway, I would have appreciated that lesson when I drove into the heart of Amish farm country today to visit the Farmer’s Henhouse (FHH) and creamery (FANC) in Kalona, Iowa, right outside Iowa City.

I met up with Joanna, my young, cheerful and knowledgeable guide at 3 o’clock at the Farmers All-Natural Creamery (FANC). While not an employee of FANC, she works with a group called Kalona Organics, who work as a marketing consulting group for small organic farmers in the area. They help represent the farmers and their cooperatives to distributors and retailers, and also provide branding aid. Joanna in her role as marketing director develops new products, designs labels and helps the farmers craft products that her colleagues can easily sell to consumers.

She had thoughtfully put together a set of visits to expose me to some of Kalona Organics clients: FANC and FHH, two cooperatives for the local dairy farms and egg producers, respectively, which Kalona then represents to distributors and grocery stores. In addition, I was going to visit one of the Mennonite dairy farmers from which FANC gets their milk. So I hopped into Joanna’s truck and headed off to FHH to learn how eggs are processed.

When we arrived Mark Miller, the owner and creator of FHH, greeted us. He bought the factory in 2000, and has since managed to expand both its sales and size substantially, with the branding help of Kalona Organics. He ushered Joanna and I inside to give us a tour of what they do in an egg processing plant.

The processing of eggs is fairly minimal. The eggs are offloaded from the local farmers into the plant, where they are first washed to remove any dirt. During this process, a watchful bearded man removes cracked eggs.

Afterwards, an automatic boxer puts the eggs into flats, which are then packed and labeled.

From the FHH, the eggs go anywhere from California to Florida. Today, Mark’s factory uses about 20 employees each day, most of which are Amish children from the surrounding farms. He processes about 1,300 cases daily, with each case containing 30 dozen eggs. This breaks down into 39,000 dozen eggs per day; quite a number. He has managed to increase the amount sold per year by about 17% for the past 5 years, quite a significant growth factor. He attributes this to increased consumer awareness of organic, cage free eggs.

A bit of labeling background: eggs can be labeled “cage-free”, “free range” or “organic”. Cage free, in general, is not much better than caged. Free-range means the chicken can roam around a yard, and eat whatever they want in that yard. Organic eggs are from free-range birds on completely organic premises. Organic eggs are what one wants to look out for when shopping.

While not all of the farmers Mark gets his eggs from are organically certified yet, all of them have only free-range chickens. Joanna noted that studies have shown that free-range chicken eggs, organic or not, have been shown to be significantly better for you. The difference, she said, can even be seen: the yolk of a organic chicken which has had a varied diet is a brilliant golden yellow, compared to the drag yellow of a factory chicken egg. This translates into eggs with more “good” cholesterol and increased levels of omega-3 acids, which are good for you.

Part of Joanna’s job as marketing director is to research the health benefits of the naturally produced and minimally processed foods produced by clients of Kalona organics, as well as to help their clients implement practices that reduce processing.

While we were unable to go into the creamery processing area due to health restrictions, Joanna showed me the machinery through the window while talking about the benefits of FANC’s processing (or lack thereof). The creamery uses a special type of vat pasteurization, in which the milk is only heated to 145 degrees (compared to over 200 for most milk) for a longer period of time to kill germs. However, it also reduces shelf life from 60 to 15 days: in effect, FANC products sacrifice durability and convenience for flavor and nutrition. She had Iowa State University do a study about the chemical differences between FANC milk and regular milk: theirs had significantly higher levels of linoleic acid, as well as a much higher proportion of “active” enzymes (the same type you would find in yogurt). She attributes these health benefits to the milks minimal processing and low heat pasteurization process, as well as the work of the dairy farmers: most feed their cows only grass, as opposed to corn feed.

In addition, the milk tasted better. FANC produces “cream on top” milk: it is not homogenized, and therefore must be shaken to distribute the cream into the milk. As I tasted it, it did taste better than normal milk. It had a sweeter taste, and was creamy without being buttery, even compared against other milks of the same fat content. Joanna informed me that anecdotally many lactose intolerant customers had said that they could drink FANC milk: another benefit to their low impact processing policies.

Having examined the stunningly space age looking processing equipment, we went into a conference room so that I could sample some of the goods produced by FANC. IN addition to the milk, she also brought out some sour cream, low fat cottage cheese and a Muenster, the development of which she had guided. As I tasted each one, she related the challenges of taking a modern food product and changing it back into “real”, minimally processed food.

My first sample, and also the one that tasted the most unique, was the sour cream. While the sour cream is the most processed, it had a flavor and texture that was much more like a crème fraiche than a regular American sour cream. The cottage cheese was also delicious. Instead of being a soup of curds in whey, it was almost entirely curds. To develop a homogenized cottage cheese (thought by most modern dairy farmers to be impossible) Joanna had to research older techniques for making cottage cheese. Due to this approach, the flavor and texture are much more like a very light ricotta. It was very good, and would pair extremely well with a sliced up banana in the morning. The Muenster cheese was also very good, although substantially stronger than I am used to, most likely due to the grass fed nature of the milk used to make it.

Kalona organics also makes their own yogurt brand (Cultural Revolution), which Joanna helped develop as well. Although it is not made by FANC, and I did not sample it there, I have it routinely before bed, and Joanna and I discussed it. The yogurt is a much looser, liquidy concoction because it is completely natural and minimally processed; most American yogurts have significant amounts of artificial fixatives that give it a more gel-like texture. Joanna urged the producer of the yogurt to use a more European approach, which involves less processing and fewer additives, resulting in the liquid texture. As I can attest, it pairs extremely well with some fruit as a before bed snack.

Kalona Organics fills a unique roll in the local, sustainable foods landscape. By representing clients such as FANC and FHH, as well as encouraging them to use minimal impact processing practices, they both help consumers get access to local organic produce, and encourage more farmers to see that this is a profitable venue, increasing the supply. I can only hope more firms like Kalona Organics emerge to further the conversation about “real foods”.

Linn Street Cafe: review

2008-10-15T15:19:00.001-07:00

Food Tour of Iowa: Restaurant Review: Linn Street Café

On my way to Kalona Organics dairy, I decided to stop somewhere in Iowa City for lunch. It would only take me about 15 minutes out of my way, and I have a list of restaurants to try in Iowa City as long as my arm. After canvassing friends and checking menus online to find the best lunch spot, I settled on the Linn Street café. It was an excellent choice.

The trendy north side neighborhood of Iowa City, which is chock full of restaurants (including past fave Devotay), is within walking distance of the University of Iowa campus; this gives it a great youthful feel. Linn Street was located just a few doors down from Devotay.

When I first walked in, I felt a bit out of place; in my sweatshirt and sturdy boots (for my subsequent visit to Kalona and the dairy there) I felt a bit under dressed. However, the menu was more in keeping with my outfit: most of the entrees were pleasantly located in the 8-12 dollar range. After some inner wrangling, I opted for the slow cooked BBQ pork sandwich, with sweet potato coleslaw and a side of beet salad. They were all great choices.

The sandwich was served on a crunchy ciabatta roll that had the virtue of not being too bready- it was mostly a delicious crispy crust that complemented the juicier pork. The pork was perfectly tender and very flavorful, and tempered by the vinegary coleslaw which topped the sandwich. Also, it wasn’t too big; the sandwich was a pleasant size that didn’t leave me feeling stuffed, even with the salad on the side. I was very pleased with it.

The roasted beet salad was excellent as well; a mix of local greens topped with goat cheese and roasted beets. I was initially put off when I thought that the waitress had disregarded my request for dressing on the side, but upon closer examination it was just the juice from the roasted beets coating the greens; the dressing was indeed on the side. The salad was perfect without the dressing anyway, with the beet juice substituting more effectively. My only complaint was that the beets weren’t strong enough; they lacked enough “beety” flavor. However, the salad was still very good, and a great pairing to the heavier sandwich.

I was very pleased with the Linn Street café. The service and ambiance were great, and the food was correctly priced and quite good. I recommend it for anyone who wants a nicer lunch that wont break the bank.

Restaurant Review: Devotay, Iowa City

2008-10-12T15:17:00.001-07:00

Food Tour of Iowa: Devotay, Iowa City
I’m pretty happy I managed to get out to Devotay; for a while, I feared it would be my white whale, and I would never manage to get to go. A combination of bad luck and lack of opportunities conspired against me for a while to keep me from actually making it to the restaurant. However, I managed to reverse that trend and made it out there this last Saturday night.

Devotay surprised me right off the bat because of its location. While I am no expert about Iowa City, I thought I knew most of the cool and youthful locations; Devotay (and the rest of the surrounding area) proved me wrong. It was packed with trendy coffee houses, a nice assortment of restaurants and plenty of students from the nearby University of Iowa. I pegged a few places for future exploration (Falafel!!).

I walked into Devotay at about 6:30, and it was pleasantly full. There is a little bar in the walkway where waiting diners can enjoy some of the delightful tapas while waiting for a table. The hostess seated us promptly, and the dining area was very nice. Tastefully decorated, it struck a good balance between having an intimate atmosphere while not being too uptight or too rowdy; it was just in the middle. The atmosphere made for a very pleasant dining experience.

Devotay’s menu consists of cold tapas, hot tapas and entrée’s. I have quite a few friends who had been here before, and they all gave me different advice. Some said to only order the tapas; others suggested I not even bother and have whatever was the special of the day. Intense disagreement over what was best characterized my “research” over what to have, which is always a good sign in my experience.

I ended up ordering the cheese platter and the datiles (bacon wrapped dates) off the tapas menu to start, and then followed those up with a 1 person paella split between my companion and I; I felt like it was a good way to maximize my returns, and I was not disappointed.

The cheese platter varies from day to day, depending on what cheeses are available and in season. Ours had a manchego, which was a very pleasant sheep’s milk cheese from Spain, as well as a semi-hard goat cheese and a third, the names of which I missed when the waitress described them. The manchego was good; creamy, it had a distinct and pleasant flavor, but left me wanting a little something else. The semi-hard was the best of the three. It had a good goat cheese flavor that was assertive but not overwhelming. The third, a very soft goat cheese was not very good. It tasted very “goaty”, but of nothing else. The presentation and accompaniments were nice. The cheeses were served with some toasted almonds, some very decent balsamic vinegar and delicious Spanish olives, which I greedily devoured (my companion didn’t like olives).

While the cheese was slightly underwhelming, the datiles were anything but. The dates were wrapped in very smoky, delicious bacon and served with a pimenton barbeque sauce for dipping. The sweet date and smoky bacon was an odd flavor combination, but one that worked extremely well, and that I look forward to exploring in my home cooking. The dates provide a very sweet, sugary taste and grainy texture that is perfectly tempered and complemented by the smokiness and meaty texture of the bacon. It was excellent, and we devoured them.

For the main course, we split a seafood paella, which was great. The rice was the perfect texture, and was topped with tomatoes and peas, as well as chorizo, mussels, chicken, shrimp and a few olives (which promptly went onto my plate). The tomato sauce was great, as were all the meats in the paella, but the chorizo particularly shined. Imported from Spain, it was delicious. I mopped up my plate with a delicious heel of bread, provided obviously for that specific purpose, and was very satisfied with life.

Overall, I highly recommend Devotay. The atmosphere and service were excellent, and the food was superb. The Chef is one of the main proponents of “slow food” in Iowa City, and is a great supporter of local agriculture; the menu is packed with Iowa foods, from Northern Prairie chevre to Kalona cheeses, as well as the more predictable local meats and produce. This reliance on local, seasonal food ensures that everything is fresh and delicious; my experience there definitely confirms it.

Oktoberfest in Iowa

2008-10-07T19:44:00.001-07:00

Food Tour of Iowa: Reflection: Oktoberfest in the Amana’s
This post is a slight detour from normal, but still, I think, quite an interesting experience. This past Saturday some friends and I went up to the (slightly) touristy Amish colonies of the Amana’s, which are about 10 miles West of Iowa City for the Oktoberfest celebrations. Our goals were to absorb some German culture (Lederhosen on men of a certain age and dinner menus with lots of “wurst” and “schnitzel”), have a great meal at one of their family style restaurants and sample some of the beers from local Iowa brewers (Millstream brewery, mostly). I forgot my camera, so we will have to do this without pictures. I swear that will not happen again.

4 friends and I rolled into the picturesque Amana colonies at about 5:30 on Saturday night. We had planned to go to the “actual” celebrations in the germanically named Festhalle barn, but opted out after we saw it was $8 each (!). Instead, we walked around the main street, which was just as good, if not better. We stopped by a few old time general stores, which contained such quantities of jam I have yet to see equaled in one place, as well as other predictably tourist shops (furniture makers, geode sellers). However, the town had definitely gotten into the spirit of Oktoberfest. Most restaurants had a live band (always with an accordion) and lots of outdoor seating so diners could appreciate the gorgeous autumn day, if not the tunes from the accordion.
In lieu of the ludicrously expensive official celebrations, we walked down to the Millstream brewery at the end of Main Street, which was having its own brat and beer fest. A few of my compatriots who were above the age of majority ordered the Oktoberfest lager, which they said was delicious. We browsed the amply stocked Millstream brewery shop, and then walked back uptown to get to our dinner stop, the Ox Yoke Inn. We were in a bit of a hurry to get away, as the brewery, not to be outdone, had its own band with another one of those satanic accordions.
On our way, we stopped at a “Weingarten” (wine tasting) put on by one of the local wineries. While its serene and accordion-less atmosphere attracted us, we felt slightly out place in the august atmosphere of a wine tasting. However, the proprietor was extremely willing to share his knowledge with all, even delinquent college kids. We sampled three very nice wines before heading off for our reservation.

I have to admit, I headed through the restaurant doors that night with stratospheric expectations. You see, as a small child I had been to the same restaurant, and remembered it extremely fondly: bowls of sides that were both delicious and bottomless, as well as entrees that were finger-lickingly good. My friends had spent the hour-long car ride and subsequent walk around town listening to me gush hyperbole about never-ending sides and chicken that was “like, so good!” Needless to say, we were all ready by 6:30 to see what the reality on the ground was.

I am pleased to say that the visit did not disappoint. The sides at the Ox Yoke Inn are refilled as you empty them, and come free with the meal. One passes them around family style. We were provided with a breadbasket, cottage cheese, corn, scalloped potatoes and sauerkraut. They were OK- the cottage cheese was the best by far. It had a distinctly cheesy flavor that was subtle but memorable. We all agreed that it was delicious, and that more cottage cheese should have that much flavor.

For my main course, I got the barbequed ribs, which were delicious. Tender and falling off the bone, I thought it was the best choice. Others in my party got the fried chicken, a wurst plated (knockwurst and bratwurst), and a schnitzel. The chicken, despite being a favorite of my Mom’s, was merely good. The wurst plate was OK, but most disappointing was the schnitzel: greasy and gravy covered, it had almost no flavor, relative to the other entrees.

Overall, the dinner was a great success. Everyone had a great time, and despite my critiques, everyone was very happy with the food. At the end, however, there was definitely a sense of sticker shock- the meal came out to around 15-20 bucks a person! In my mind, an excessive amount for a fairly simple meal.

For desert, we went a block away to the Chocolate Haus, where I got a candied apple with caramel, chocolate and walnuts. Verdict: delicious. The apple was great, and you cannot go wrong with copious amounts of chocolate and candy. My friends got some truffles (very good) and some divinity, which I had never heard of, seen or tasted before. Apparently, it is a mix of eggs and sugar. Anyway, it was also excellent. On the hour-long drive home, we essentially passed out into a coordinated food coma. A great evening.

Food Tour of Iowa: Ebert Honey

2008-10-05T17:14:00.000-07:00

Food Tour of Iowa: Ebert Honey

The first time I e-mailed Phil Ebert about visiting his honey farm, the answer I received told me it would be a memorable experience. To quote:

I've got about 50 colonies of bees within flying distance of our

building. They have been trying to invade. It's a little daunting if

you have never been around bees.

It should be mentioned that I have, in fact, never “been around bees”. I was happy enough to wait until the cold weather and termination of whatever processes were causing the bees to invade to quiet down. Fortunately, they had done so by this past Thursday and I was able to visit.

Phil Ebert lives in the small Iowa farm town of Lynnville. He greeted me very kindly as I pulled into the driveway, and right away gave me a quick but thorough overview of the honey extraction process, which was carried out in the building which the bees were trying to invade earlier.

Above: The honey extraction shed

In fact, to my city based sensibilities, they still were trying to invade the simple aluminum building which housed all of Phil’s honey processing equipment. With the carefree advice of “Don’t mind the bees; they won’t hurt you. At worst, they’ll just bump into you”, he ushered me into the processing shed.

The first room was filled with 55 gallon barrels, as well as more bees than I cared to count. Phil, however, only commented on the barrels, which all contained honey. As I learned from Phil, bees will come after the harvested frames until they have been put into barrels- his task last week was to extract the honey from the frames into barrels so that the bees would stop swarming, and that mites would not eat the honey.

Above: Barrels of extracted honey, waiting to be bottled

Frames are the building block of the bee “colonies”, which I would call hives. Each hive consists of two boxes stacked on top of each other, both of which are filled with frames. The bees build their honeycomb on the frames which are the building block of the honey extraction process.

Above: In the field, Phil shows me a frame fresh out of one of his colonies

For Phil to get to the honey, he first removes the frames. This is a tricky operation for two reasons: bees get angry and honey is heavy. A smoke blower attached to a truck solves the first obstacle. The smoke calms down the bees, and the frames are then removed from the colonies and put into the truck. For the second, there is not such an easy solution; just smaller boxes for the frames. Honey weighs about 12 pounds a gallon, about 1.5 times heavier than water. This means a regular sized box (the type one sees on a normal commercial beekeeping facility) weighs 90 pounds. Phil uses a mix; normal sized boxes to breed the queens and drones (more on that later) and a smaller type to collect honey. The smaller only weighs 45 pounds when filled with honey.

Above: Boxes stacked after having their frames removed. Each one of these weighs about 45 pounds when filled with honey.

Above: Two colonies

After the frames have been collected and safely stashed in the extraction shed, the tops of the honeycombs are “uncapped” by a machine specially made for the job. This machine slices off the top of the honeycomb so that the honey can flow unrestricted out.

Above: The "uncapper"

Above: The wax extracting part of the uncapper. The metal drums in the background are the extractors, which spin the uncapped frames to remove the honey. The big yellow blocks are wax.

After uncapping, Phil loads the frames into an big metal cylinder called an extractor, which spins the frames to separate the honey from the wax. This mixture is then pumped through yet another machine called a refiner. The refiner pumps the honey through a series of filters to purify the honey, and then into a 55-gallon barrel for storage. When the stored honey is ready to be bottled, Phil warms the barrel and bottles the honey for distribution to grocery stores and farmers markets across Iowa, so that Iowans may add delicious honey to their biscuits and pork chops!

In addition to honey, this process also produces wax. Phil previously used this to make his own candles; now he sells it in bulk on the Internet, to be purchased by furniture and candle makers and such. He has also had such diverse buyers as a monastery (more candles) and a antique radio refurbisher. Interestingly, he generally does not have enough wax to keep pace with demand.

After viewing the refinery, Phil took me out to see the nearest set of colonies, where his son, Alex, breeds queens. At this point, it might be helpful to elaborate on just what beekeeping actually entails- there’s more to it than you might think.

Contrary to my belief, honey sales are not the only way for beekeepers to make money. There are actually 3 ways beekeepers make money: selling bees, selling honey (and wax) and providing pollination services.

Bee selling is the process of breeding queen bees (there needs to be one in each hive) and drone bees (the workers) and selling these bees to other beekeepers that have lost queens or workers and need to repopulate colonies. This has become increasingly important as the health of bees has become more and more fragile in response to changes in the environment. When Phil started in 1980, he would ask how many seasons a queen would last. Today, beekeepers hope more and more that a queen bee will last the season.

Honey, as discussed, is the process of removing the honey from the hives. The wax generated is also a potential revenue sources, although not a primary one for Phil.

The real money, Phil told me, comes from pollination services. In his case, this means he has colonies 75 miles away at orchards and other such places to ensure that the buds are pollinated and will come to fruit. For beekeepers, this is essentially free money; they just need to park the colonies and leave them alone, visiting occasionally to make sure that they don’t die.

The way Phil generates runs his business is radically different than the way the larger operations run theirs. The first difference is that Phil is mainly in it to make honey. He breeds some queens and drones for personal use (although he still must supplement by buying queens and drones-especially early in the season) and provides some pollination services to local orchards, but honey is his main revenue source. Commercial beekeepers mainly generate their revenue by carting their bees around in semi’s, motoring up states like California, pollinating orange and almond orchards. Commercial beekeepers that do that rarely produce honey anymore; preferring instead to focus solely on pollination services.

The second difference is scale. Phil, with only about 500 colonies, is a maverick in an industry where 1,000 colonies are widely considered to be the minimum amount needed to be commercially viable. The largest beekeepers have anywhere from 35 to 80 thousand colonies- a different scale altogether.

As such a small producer, Phil is exposed to unique pressures. He faces difficulties with the variability of the bees as well as the market for honey. He is entirely dependent upon the health of his colonies and the honey they are producing. For this reason, he is more sensitive than most to the pressures on bees and their honey making capacity that have emerged in the last 28 years.

On the most basic level is a decline in the robustness of the colonies. When he started, a bad winter might kill 5-10% of the colonies under his control. Now, 50% is not an uncommon death rate. This means he needs to buy more expensive drone and queen bees early in the season to keep up with honey production. He blames the increased use of sparingly tested pesticides, as well as the increased homogenization of agriculture on the sickliness of his bees. Corn and soybeans now come inoculated with pesticides to decrease the amount lost to pests; however, the effects of these pesticides on bees are rarely understood. In addition, the homogenization of pollen producing plants limits the health of the bees, which rely on a varied diet of high protein pollen to stay healthy. If the crop of the season is one that mostly has low protein pollen, the bees healthy drops.

This reliance of the whimsical health of bees, as well as the weather and the harshness of the winters, means Phil has a lot of volatility to contend with. In his best year to date, 2004, he filled 138 55 gallon barrels of honey; a bumper crop. A few years before, he filled less than 50.

Phil is operating in a world that doesn’t exist anymore. In 1950, there were 200,000 colonies of bees in Iowa. Today, there are only 30,000, and almost all of those are in the hands of a few commercial beekeepers.

A Dong Vietnamese Restaurant- Des Moine

2008-09-23T15:49:00.001-07:00

Food Tour of Iowa: A Dong, Des Moines

2 weeks ago, I started to get a serious craving for a good bowl of Vietnamese pho. I thought I was straight out of luck. No way, I thought, would I be able to find a good Vietnamese restaurant any closer than Chicago. However, when my dad and I went into Des Moines this last Saturday, I saw a slim chance to satisfy the urge for pho that had been gnawing at me. A quick search for “Vietnamese Des Moines” on Google popped up one destination: A Dong.

Located right outside of the heart of downtown, A Dong occupies a non descript but nice facility. However, the extensive menu immediately thrills. With over 100 (!) items, it takes on a little while to make ones mind up. My dad had never had Vietnamese food before, so my selection was what I considered to be “typical” Vietnamese food, if a culture with such a breadth of ingredients and styles can be said to have three typical dishes.

We started off with some regular spring rolls: cabbage, minced pork and rice vermicelli noodles (a Vietnamese staple) wrapped tightly together in rice paper. The rolls were good: crisp and fresh tasting, they compared well with what I have had in Los Angeles. The dipping sauce was not as good, but I prefer just a little hot sauce anyway, so it wasn’t a big deal.

For the entrée, I chose a standard beef pho as well as a shrimp and pork soup. Sorry for the lack of the “real” name; I cleverly nabbed a menu, and then lost it. Both were served with a bowl of raw bean sprouts, cilantro, mint and peppers to flavor the broths.

The pho was good; the stock, which is the cornerstone of the dish, was nice and hearty, with good beef flavor. There could have been a little more beef in the dish in general, but it definitely satisfied my craving. The other soup, which was a slightly spicy, tomato based broth with thin pasta noodles, as opposed to rice, was OK. The seafood broth was overpowered by the spiciness, and there were not enough shrimp in the soup to give it a distinct flavor. Not that is was bad, per se; just not as good as the pho.

A Dong provided an excellent overall Vietnamese experience. The dishes could have benefited from a little more meat in general, but otherwise were enjoyable. The prices were definitely correct (our meal was $17 for 2), and the service was good. I look forward to returning to A Dong and working my way through more of their menu.

Introduction

2008-09-23T11:04:00.001-07:00

Food Tour of Iowa: Introduction
Why should anyone ever write a blog about Iowa? Its cold in the winter, hot in the summer, and only has pigs and corn. That’s true, and that’s what I originally though when I came to Grinnell College, a small college in the heart of rural Iowa, from my home in Los Angeles. But I went beyond that.

As my first year at college wore on, I realized that instead of looking at what Iowa doesn’t have, I should look at what it does have. My mother, who grew up in Iowa, helped me realize that Iowa has more than just cornfields and small towns. As an avid foodie and adventurous eater, I had not expected much from Iowa. Now I realize that it has a wealth of culinary experiences and products to sample from. From prosciutto to goat cheese, to farm fresh milk and yogurt, Iowa has more than just meets the eye.

The purpose of this blog is to prove that Iowa, in fact, has things in it. It has fantastic local producers who are passionate about high quality and sustainable food, and that its restaurants are taking advantage of those local producers.

I hope you will join me as I roam around Iowa, sampling the gourmet products that this bountiful and fertile state has to offer.

Restaurant Review: Rubes Steakhouse of Montour, Iowa

2008-09-22T19:26:00.000-07:00

A quick glance down a menu can sometimes tell you more than the most experienced restaurant critic. What are the main courses? Is the menu in French? Italian? Are prices included? What about pictures? What are the prices? After the initial once-over and appraisal, one can then peruse for what they actually want to eat.

Rubes steakhouse in Montour, Iowa does away with the menu entirely. In favor of the utilitarian and practical butcher counter. Your waitress starts the evening by welcoming you to the “original grill your own steak restaurant” (founded in 1973), and half-heartedly urges you to enjoy the salad bar. One immediately gets the impression that vegetables are strictly second class citizens; mere accompaniments to the meat.

Rube’s “menu”is a quick but obviously practiced and well-informed briefing regarding the steaks behind the glass, on the aforementioned butchers counter. After a quick deliberation about which piece of Iowa raised beef, butchered and aged across the street, your decision is then deposited unceremoniously on a white porcelain plate. If you so choose, you can also get a mini cast iron skillet full of raw vegetables. Our waitress noted the best way to cook them was to “just throw in a couple of ladle-fulls of butter and leave it alone”. The butter, needless to say, sits in a metal vat on the side of the grill, with ladles for the sides and brushes for the texas toast that you can also grill up.

The steak, once you cook it on one of the 2 communal grills to your preferred level of doneness, is delicious. Rube’s has perfected a simple formula of good beef and casual atmosphere to create a sublimely enjoyable steak experience. Everything, from the smell of barbequing steaks as you walk in, to the butcher counter steak briefing to the first bite of a juicy New York strip steak declares that Rubes is a restaurant for meat lovers to kick back and enjoy their favorite.

My steak experience there was excellent. I had a delectable 12 ounce New York strip steak. After a few minutes on the grill, it was perfect; tender, flavorful, and not too fatty, although with plenty of marbling. My vegetable side of green peppers and onions was good, although it takes much longer to cook than the steak- I wish my waitress had cautioned me about it. My only gripe about Rube’s concerns the indoor grills. On their website, they proudly proclaim they can support 520 (!) people at full capacity. Maybe- however, with maybe 50 the grills were strained to capacity, and uncomfortably packed with Iowans trying to tend their beef. However, once can really just throw ones meat on and forget it, which is what I did- it still was one of the best steaks I have ever had.

Rube’s is a perfect metaphor for small town Iowa. The surrounding community of Montour is little more than a wide spot in the road. AS you drive through the two blocks of “downtown”, your only hint to the steakhouses presence is a small, unadorned building with the word “Rube’s”. Simple, honest and unpretentious, it is restaurant-ian representation of the farmers that work on the cornfields surrounding the town.

Since its inception 37 years ago in 1973, Rubes has grown. The small meat butcher that supplied them with steaks originally has been acquired by the restaurant, and now ships its premium-aged steaks anywhere in the US. The founder, Glen “Rube” Rubenbauer retired in 1993; however, the steak remains of the same high quality.

What should you expect from Rube’s? Look at the menu. A casual, honest DIY steak experience with the best elements of small town Iowa.

Hinegardner's Orchard

2008-09-22T17:00:00.000-07:00

Food Tour of Iowa: Hinegardner's Orchard

Iowa has a lot of nothing.

Not a particularly profound statement; but one that was reinforced on my drive out to Hinegardner's. It has a corollary though: that same absence makes the items of interest all the more notable.

As I drove out to the Orchard, I passed through rolling cornfields, quaint old country stores and old, Midwestern towns with names like “Tama” and “Toledo”. Because it was a Sunday, the Main Streets were empty; only ghosts seemed to inhabit the towns I passed through. There was one exception: the grandly appointed and architecturally imposing Meskwaki casino, which ironically marked the turn off to the very humble, but far more interesting, orchard.

Hinegardner’s orchard is Hinegardner’s Orchard. That is, it is in the most literal way the orchard of the Hinegardner family.

As soon as I got there, John, the current operator, urged me to “go ahead and hop on” the back of a red 4 wheeler. With that, we were off. The tour was very interactive; I probably ate 5 apples. John had knack for illustrating comments about flavor with a practical and tasty example.

“This is a Johnathan. Good taste; I prefer a JohnnyGold though”. He illustrated his point by pulling one off the branch as we passed under the tree. It was good; probably twice as good because I had just seen it picked off the tree. Crisp and delicious, but more interestingly room temperature. These apples hadn’t been chilling in a refrigerator. The entire trip was like that. As we wound our way through rows of Golden Delicious, Johnathan, Johnny Gold, Honeycrisp apples, as well as some Stark Delicious pears, John would drive under a particularly likely looking limb and urge me to pluck one off and give it a taste; they were all delicious. The tour was part history lesson, part family history, and part agriculture.

Johns grandfather started the Hinegardner estate, as I will call it, with just a horse and a plow in 1937. His mission: to plow out a lake for depression and World War 2 era customers, who were short on money and gas. At the lake, they would be able to get away for a small vacation. Later, he sold his 250 acres in Texas and upgraded to a caterpillar. Now it is a fine lake; large enough to accommodate water-skiers and fisherman who are looking for bass and walleye. While the entire farm was extremely picturesque, the lake was especially so. Nestled in between the rolling hills of Central Iowa, it stretched majestically between two banks filled with Oak trees.

As we bounced our way across the road to the lake from the orchard, John related the pleasures of growing up around the lake, roller-skating, fishing and having all sorts of outdoor fun. Looking around, I saw myself as a little kid; running through the trees, swimming and fishing; I could see myself getting used to it.

The orchard, in comparison to the lake, is a more recent development. It was started in 1967, but didn’t start really producing fruit around 1971. People did then, and still do, come to pick their own bushels of apples and pears, from the different varieties of trees in the Orchard. John keeps about 3,000 trees and has to plant about 100 per year to keep that number steady.

After the first lap around the orchard, while I was still reeling from the profusion of names, facts about apple trees and the giddying adventure of riding on the back of a 4-wheeler (a first for me; might I add. In addition, during the entire adventure I was hanging on with one hand, taking notes with the other and taking pictures with the hand that was supposed to keep me from falling off), we stopped at the cider house, where John makes cider with the extra apples.

Cider, for those of us not in the know, which until recently included myself, is simply 100% apple juice; completely undiluted. I had always thought of cider as a completely different beverage; apparently I had always thought wrong. Anyway, the process for making it could not be simpler. The shed consisted of a washer, a masher, a juicer, and two large stainless steel holding tanks for the finished product. The apples are first washed and blended together, to make a mixture very similar to applesauce. John then extracts the juice, and pipes it into the holding tanks. From there, it is conveyed to thirsty consumers across the state. I know I have some in the local supermarket (verdict: delicious).

I asked John about the type of people that buy from him. He told me he sells a lot of his produce in farmers markets, as well as to grocery stores. Might I add, my college is also a substantial consumer of apples: Grinnell College buys 3600 apples per week from John (A bushel is about 120 apples; the college buys about 30 bushels per week). However, the type of consumer has changed. Up until the 1980’s Hinegardner’s saw a substantial flow of depression era customers, who picked their own because it’s the economical choice (at John’s, a bushel of apples is $18- about 15 cents an apple-not bad). They would pick 10-15 bushels of apples to can and preserve through the winter. These days, the pick your own customers are mostly families looking to get out for a trip.

John really highlighted how little I actually knew about apples. For something I eat with every meal, I knew little about that delicious fruit. The trees live for anywhere from 20 to 40 years, and they produce fruit from late July to mid October, depending on the variety. Trees are mainly lost as the branches break off and become too gnarled to harvest from. They also do not have a very extensive root system, and can fall over.

I drove away tired, filled to the brim with facts and covered with a layer of dust, and deeply happy with life, apples, and the state of Iowa.

Figure 1: My Ride

On the way out to the orchard: a deserted Main Street

The Sheridan Store: Coming soon!

The grand Meskwaki Casino

The Cider press, and another young Hinegardner