A Slight Delay

This recipe was (nearly) written in blood, and underscores why it’s a good idea to keep bandaids and a good antiseptic in reach of your kitchen. But I digress. The following is a reasonably tasty potato soup. You’ll need:

5 lb. of Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled
1 32-ounce container of store-bought chicken broth*
1 package of bacon**
1 smallish bunch of green onions
3/4 cup or thereabouts of light cream or half and half
About 1/4 cup sour cream
Half a package (about one cup) of shredded sharp cheddar cheese***
Dash of black, white, and red pepper
Kosher salt, if needed

The procedure: (more…)

 My wife and I once spent the better part of a day trying to find a restaurant in New Jersey that served authentic Puerto Rican food. It didn’t turn out to be the easiest thing. I could think of one place in Elizabeth called La Lechonera, but I refused to go back to Elizabeth on general principle, and she remembered a little spot in Lakewood called Yolanda’s Coqui, which was a disappointment. So we were back to square one. Even though New Jersey doesn’t lack for other kinds of Caribbean, central- and south-American, it’s nigh-impossible to find an explicitly Boricua restaurant.

What’s ironic, though, is that Puerto Rico–at least outside of Viejo San Juan–wasn’t exactly an embarrasment of riches when it came to Puerto Rican food either. Luckily, however, it’s not all Chinese, McDonald’s and Pollo Tropical. Read on for a bit of what we found.

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 So we’ve just returned from Puerto Rico. Armed with the knowledge of a week in the Commonwealth, I feel fully qualified to offer this travel guide for your time on the Island of Enchantment.  

We’d been warned 1,277 times (conservative estimate) about not drinking the water and told to avoid the streets of San Juan after dark, but this advice, however well-intentioned, only goes so far. The following article picks up where the usual advice leaves off, letting you know where you can find those little touches of home throughout the island, so that you can alleviate homesickness, and so you need not be exposed to the local arts and culture, much less the locals themselves. Fear not; you’ll find reminders of home nearly everywhere you go.

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I happen to like Thai food, and tried to replicate a particularly good soup that I’d had at a particularly good Thai restaurant not long ago. I packed some of the leftovers for lunch, and when a coworker asked what I was eating, I rattled off the ingredients. “Oh. So you made Callalou,” he tells me.

Huh?

Well, I had to Google it, but as it turned out, I’d accidentally made a halfway serviceable batch of Callalou. Via Bangkok. It’s not authentic, but it’s tasty (if I may be so humble). It goes something like this:

1 32-ounce container of chicken broth*
1 15-ounce can of unsweetened coconut milk*
2-3 stalks of lemon grass
1 package frozen spinach, thawed and thoroughly drained**
Two decent-sized chicken breast filets, cut into chunks***
A clove or two of garlic, crushed
Half a tablespoon of red curry
A splash of sesame oil
Small onion, diced
A handful of diced scallions
A handful of diced mushrooms, if you like them (more…)

Here’s where I blow any small shred of geek cred I may have had left. See, some people get really enthusiastic over gadgets, gizmos, and electronics. They’re “early adopters,” the first to latch onto the latest iSomething or wireless Other. Me, I’m a late adopter. I like to wait ’til the novelty wears off, the bugs are ironed out, and the prices drop. So you can’t imagine my happiness at the maturation of the spork.

Yes, you read correctly. That kitchen oddity, the utensil equivalent of the appendix (you can find sporks everywhere, but what in God’s name are they really for?) has finally, belatedly, come of age. Herein, I invite you to share my joy.

Sporks used to be standard equipment at KFC and other fast food joints. The spoon part of the spork was usually useless, its capacity diminished by a sorrowful approximation of tines at the business end. I use “tines” loosely; you really do much with them, since they were too short to pick anything up. Eating with a spork was a baleful experience. (more…)

I wouldn’t go so far as to call freezer burn the bane of my existence, but it’s pretty darn close. When you’re in the habit of stocking up on meats when you find them on sale, it kinda defeats the purpose if freezer burn renders them un-usable by the time you get around to using them.

Well, after doing some comparison shopping, we’ve settled on the Reynolds Handi-Vac, and so far it’s proven to be money well-spent. The vacuum unit looks like a miniature dust buster, and the bags look like your standard Ziploc bags, but with a little porthole thingy (forgive the technical jargon) for the vacuum. We’ve frozen veggies, beef, chicken, and hot dogs thus far, and have been satisfied with the results. I won’t go so far as to say it eliminates freezer burn, but it comes pretty close; the trick is to “burp” the bags before and during the vacuuming process so that you don’t have air pockets that lead to patches of freezer burn. A London Broil that we bagged and froze about three weeks ago still looks the same as it did the day we froze it.

The starter pack is ten bucks, give or take, and includes the vacuum with three quart-sized bags. Boxes of bags cost about $3.29 for either 14 quart-sized bags or 9 gallon-sized bags. While that’s more expensive than average freezer bags*, it’s less expensive than the fancier countertop models, not to mention less expensive than throwing out meats and veggies that look like they came from between a yeti’s toes.

For information from the manufacturer, visit the Handi-Vac website.

*Although less labor-intensive since you don’t have to wrap, then burp, then bag.

You know how sometimes a bug will fly into your ear or nose, and even once you get it out, it still feels like it’s there? I’ve got the same vaguely crawly flashbacks from Goya’s latest commercial.

Seems that Goya’s now decided to target the anglo market, right down to a guy doing the voiceover who sounds even whiter than me (trust and believe, that’s saying something). But since when did their motto go from “If it’s Goya, it has to be good” to, “Goya: Even white people like it!”?

Now, there’s nothing wrong with crossover. I think every household should have a container of Adobo, a bottle of Mojo, and a can of gandules on hand. But when you’ve got some guy who sounds as squeaky-clean-enthusiastic as those Mormon kids that sometimes stop you in urban areas* extolling the virtues of “Latino Spices,”** it really sticks out like a sore thumb. Or maybe it’s just me. (more…)

When it comes to food, it seems like there’s not much that’s exotic anymore. Even the local Friday’s has Chimichurri Sliders, and everybody else seems to have dishes from every corner of the globe just for the sake of livening up an otherwise dull menu. The challenge, then, isn’t finding something eclectic on the menu so much as finding it done well. Thankfully, Churrasco Grill falls neatly into the second category.

Churrasco Grill’s interior looks a bit like a walk-in closet with tables and chairs, or perhaps one of the earlier parts of the Marx Brothers’ infamous “stateroom scene.” It’s not altogether uninviting, but it’s cramped. And cramped conditions, combined with a wait of over an hour just for the appetizers, didn’t do much to improve the moods of six people who were already starving when we set foot in the place. Combine that with some wine, and the wisecracks start flowing. Was the Chilean sea bass having visa problems?

Then, somewhat belatedly, the appetizers arrive, the talking stops abruptly, and the chef is your new best friend.

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It’s that time of year again: the season when you’re just finishing the first 75 pounds of leftover turkey when the time comes to plop another one in the oven and endure another several weeks of leftovers. So after you’ve done turkey salad, turkey tetrazzini, turkey pot pie, turkey fritters, turkey croquettes, turkey thermidor, turkey soup, and turkey pudding, what do you do with those last, stubborn bits?

I decided to come up with something that’d give you the turkey-and-stuffing experience without having to go to all the trouble of making stuffing. I’m not generally big on brand names, as I’ve mentioned elsewhere, but I’ll make an exception here for Thomas Corn Toasting Bread, and for good reason. Whatever you don’t use for the recipe can be toasted and slathered with butter (or used to sop up the leftover gravy), and enjoyed thoroughly. It’s some good stuff. Mind you, it should not be confused with Thomas Corn Toast-R-Cakes, which taste like… well, like you just spilled cream corn on your countertop, wiped it up with a kitchen sponge, and then stuck the whole mess into the toaster instead of the trash.

Having clarified that, let’s move on to the recipe, shall we? You’ll need: (more…)

I’m sure that Red Bank has some perfectly lovely restaurants. Names like Front Street Trattoria and Gustavo’s beckon locals and visitors alike, and I’m often told by friends and family that I have to try them. One of these days I’m sure I will. But for three years now, ever since owner and head chef Bob Guido himself invited us in, I’ve been hung up on River’s Edge Café.

The Café is an understatedly cheery little place, with its exposed brick, prints and tapestries on the walls, and a perfectly attentive staff. Don’t be surprised if (when) Bob himself comes out of the kitchen to see if everything’s alright. And outdoor dining is available in season if you go in for that sort of thing (I’m always slightly paranoid that passersby will start taking stuff off my plate).

But enough about atmosphere. How’s about a menu crawl? (more…)