Walking downtown today, I noticed a familiar logo in the window of the storefront next door to the Harris Theater (on Liberty, near the corner of Wood/ across the street from Strawberry Way): Dozen Bakeshop is preparing to open a third location.
It’s going to be retail only, with no baking done on site. Andrew reports that there are still a few details to be worked out, but that they plan to open mid-July.
The standard story for the origin of the sandwich goes something like this:
“In 1762, an English Noble named John Montagu, the fourth Earl of Sandwich, was on a gambling spree when he got hungry. He didn’t want to fold his hand, so he instructed a servant to place a piece of roast beef between two slices of bread. He could eat with one hand and play with the other. Thus the birth of what today is the most popular meal in the western world” (Brown, Alton. I’m Just Here for the Food. New York: Stewart, Tabori, & Chang, 2002. p 72).
While Mr. Brown’s book is incredibly informative and I heartily recommend to anyone who wants to understand more about the mechanics of cooking and transference of heat to food, on this topic, he’s just plain wrong.
Anyone who wants the skinny on the real origin of sandwiches should track down a copy of the Summer 2004 issue of Gastronomica, in which Mark Morton divulges the true story behind sandwiches: they have been a common peasant food since quite possibly the dawn of bread; they just lacked a clever name to refer to them and were known simply as “bread and meat” or “bread and cheese.”
As evidence, Mr. Morton provides an exhaustive review of old literature and the number of times the phrases appeared thusly vs. the scant number of times the words were reversed to “meat and bread” or “cheese and bread” and concludes that the phrasing refers to what is a natural meal, especially for those who don’t have the luxury of always being able to sit and dine. yet somehow, one rich guy eats the same thing in the company of his peers (who if they were paying any attention probably would have noticed their servants dining in a similar manner) and the whole concept gets named after him.
And really, that’s just a view of the western world of cooking. What about all the folks in the new world who were making flatbreads out of maize and using them to wrap up other foods? A) these were types of sandwiches that existed well before 1762 and B) the breads got named in Spanish as tortillas, not in the native language of the Aztecs who were making them. Once again, the language by which we know a phenomenon has little to do with those who invented the item.
But then again, we all know that there’s nothing new about classism.
Happy summer! I hope everyone is making the most of the season and getting fresh foods from local farmers. If you’re in Pittsburgh, there are farmers’ markets options around the city, every day but Sunday. This interactive map from the Post-Gazette can help you locate an option convenient for you. If you can, visit a couple options so you can increase your range of options–not all markets have the same vendors!
Last week, I was lucky enough to be hosted by PASA to cook at Farmers at Phipps, the Wednesday market at Phipps Conservatory in Oakland.
I won’t be at the farmers’ market this week, but will return on July 1, so please come out and support your farmers if you can. I’ll be on hand to give tips on using ingredients you might not be totally familiar with, and samples of whatever I can concoct from the ingredients the farmers have on hand (the mystery basket: I won’t know what’s in it until it’s presented to me).
Last week, I made several different dishes with the ingredients that were on hand, but this was perhaps my favorite: a sweet rhubarb and goat cheese omelette.
Don’t let the ingredients scare you—there was one guy who stopped by the tent to see what I was cooking. When he heard, he started walking away. “That’s way too cultured for me,” he said, “I don’t know that I’d like it.”
“I can’t guarantee you you’ll like it,” I agreed. “But I can guarantee that if you don’t taste it, you’ll never know if you like it or not.” He tasted. He liked it. Maybe you will too. But, feel free to substitute flavors. I used rhubarb because that’s what was available. But we’re in raspberry season by now, with blackberries and blueberries to follow. Either of those would make great substitutions for rhubarb though they would need to be cooked much less. If you don’t have goat cheese, cream cheese would work. But a local goat cheese would make it that much better.
One ingredient you shouldn’t compromise on is eggs. There are so many more local egg options I’ve seen on the market today as compared with even three or four years ago. What had been an item on the fringe is starting to seem a little more mainstream, which is a great development. Get some local eggs, your taste buds will thank you for it.
Sweet Rhubarb and Goat Cheese Omelette
* 1 stalk fresh rhubarb, diced to approximately 1/4-inch pieces
* 2 local eggs
* brown sugar, to taste
* vanilla (optional)
* 1-2 tablespoons goat cheese
* oil or butter to cook in
Get two pans hot: one a cast iron or non-stick pan for creating the omelette, the other a good saute pan for cooking the rhubarb.
Saute the rhubarb in a small amount of oil or butter. As it softens, add a sprinkle of brown sugar—maybe a couple of teaspoons or so.
Beat the eggs lightly with a very small pinch of salt, just a touch of brown sugar, and about 1/4 teaspoon vanilla, if you’re using it. Add oil or butter to the omelette pan and let the fat get hot. Pour the eggs around the bottom of the pan in a thin layer. As the omelette approaches doneness, add the rubarb filling and dot the surface with goat cheese. As the egg just barely reaches the point where it is set, roll the omelette out of the pan onto a plate. Garnish with fresh berries if desired and serve immediately.
Variations: If using fresh berries, add the sugar into the butter or oil, and then add about half of the berries you intend for the omelette. The juice they release will combine with the sugar and prevent it from turning into hard candy in the bottom of your pan. When adding this filling to the omelette, add in the other half of the berries and let them heat up with the omelette (if using strawberries, cut large berries in 1/2 or 1/4).
Freshly made lemonade is always better than the stuff from a bottle in my book. Here’s a simple yet tasty variation on the theme.
* A fistful of fresh mint (don’t be shy)
* 1 cup sugar
* 1 cup water
* 1 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice (about 8-12 lemons, depending on the size)
* 3-4 cups ice water
Combine the sugar and the 1 cup of water in a sauce pan and bring to a boil. Remove from heat and stir in the mint (washed), stems and all. Let the mint steep in the simple syrup for at least 20 minutes to half an hour, or longer if you have the time.
I made my syrup a day before I needed it and let the mint steep for about three hours as the syrup cooled to room temp, but if you’re in more of a hurry, the shorter time span should do fine. If you are doing the quick version, though, refrigerate the steeped syrup or stir it over an ice bath to chill it to room temperature before proceeding to the next step.
Strain the mint leaves out of the syrup as you pour it into a pitcher large enough to hold the finished lemonade. Stir in the lemon juice and ice water. Serve immediately, or keep refrigerated. Garnish each glass with a spring of mint and a slice of lemon, if desired.
I often have people ask me to identify the best dish I ever made. Never have I had anyone ask me the worst. Too bad, because it’s a much easier question to answer. By far the worst thing I ever made was a peanut butter, bacon, and toasted garlic sandwich. It was terrible.
I know what you’re thinking—it sounds terrible, I should have been able to know it would be bad without going through the agony of eating it. But, I lured myself into thinking it might be good: I like peanut butter and bacon sandwiches; I like bacon and toasted garlic together; why not unite all three?
As it turns out, sometimes the whole is less than the sum of the parts.
So, what’s the worst meal/ dish you ever created?
I stopped into a bar called Bodega tonight on N High Street in Columbus, OH, and the beer list was tremendous with more than 50 on tap. Even better, all drafts are half-priced between 4 and 8 pm, so my Stone Ruination IPA (a great beer, available in bottles at Hough’s in Pittsburgh) only cost me $2.75.
There were others I wanyed to sample, of course, such as the BORIS the crusher imperial stout from hoppin frog brewery in Akron, but with only one tv in the joint and a Cavs game conflicting, there weren’t no way I was getting the Pens game on the wall, so I vacated for other environs.
But, I must confess to snatching a beer list for my reference. As a note included in the menu explains, the list is obsolete by the time it appears because they swap out their kegs with such frequency. All the same, though, I took the plastic case it goes in and I feel sorta bad about that. BuÞ I tipped the waitress well and hopefully I’ll be sending a little more business your way.
!odega is located at 1044 N High Street in Columbus and you should check it out if life guides you toward that city for a day or three.
Not too many people realize that the Frick Park Lawn Bowls Club exists (for those of you who don’t know, the club is located in the 7300 block of Reynolds Street, off of Penn Avenue in Point Breeze). And of the people who do know of the club’s existence, only a small fraction take advantage of it. The club is trying to change that.
That’s why they’re bribing you with free food to go out and bowl a few ends. On Saturday, May 23, from 1 - 4 pm, the club will host an open house. The day will feature lessons, games, a raffle for door prizes, and a light buffet. “We ask people to come in and bowl with us all the time,” shrugs past FPLBC president Hank Luba as he laughs. “We’re hoping that if we say there’s free food, it might bring a few more people in the gates.”
The buffet will feature fresh fruit, artisan cheeses, locally-baked breads, Enrico’s biscotti, iced La Prima coffee, and more. The raffle will feature a $25 gift certificate to Parma Sausage as one of the prizes.
All the club is asking is that you give bowling a chance. “It’s a fun way to get outside,” says Luba. “We’ve found that most people who try the game really enjoy it. We just want more people to give it a shot.” Those who enjoy the game are invited to return—hopefully as members. “We’d love for even ten more people to join the club–but we’d love for it to be fifty!” grins Hank.
In order to help plan enough food for all who show up, please RSVP by email to Hank Luba if you plan to attend.
Full disclosure: I’m an active member of the Lawn Bowling club and I’m helping to plan the event.
I’m looking for mongoose cooking recipies, & cooking history, please let me know if you can find anything.
—Cobra’s Revenge
Dear Cobra Commander:
After a brief bit of research, I can understand why you’d want revenge on a mongoose. Most of the references I’ve been able to find to the species is in terms of their skill at fighting cobras (e.g. Rudyard Kipling’s Rikki Tikki Tavi).
In terms of eating Mongeese, though, it was tough to find reliable sources. As Mongeese live throughout Africa and Asia, I checked all cookbooks I could find that describe cuisine from those continents, and found zero reference to Mongoosophagy. The internets provided little additional information. The first reference I came across to butchering/ eating mongoose was guidelines for some sort of a role-playing game; hence, I’m hesitant to describe it as a credible resource.
After a bit more digging, though, I came across a reference from the scholarly journal Mammalia. In #73, published March 2009, there is an article titled “Mongoose species in southern Benin: Preliminary ecological survey and local community perceptions.” Among the more interesting purposes the article describes mongooses being used for is “the marsh mongoose… whose head [8% of interviewees recognized as being] used to consult the oracle.”
As far as food purposes go, 60% of interviewees recognized the mongoose as being edible, with some species “considered food delicacies because of their rarity,” though it is worth noting that “11% of interviewees did not appreciate the mongoose meat because of its unpleasant musky odor coming from their scent glands.”
Therefore, should you trap a mongoose and butcher it for meat purposes, I would recommend that you identify and remove said scent glands as quickly as possible upon dispensing with the animal so as to reduce their influence on the character of the meat. From there, unfortunately, you are on your own as the article provided no culinary guidance in terms of whether the Beninese tend to roast or stew their mongoose.
I figure the safest bet would be to stew all but the tenderloins: it is safe to assume that the tenderloins will respond well to roasting as they are little-used muscles. Otherwise, though, a meat that can be roasted will come out fine when braised, but a meat that should only be braised would be destroyed by the roasting process.
Hope this helps. if you actually eat a mongoose, please write up the experience for me and i’d be glad to post it as a guest post on this site.
There’s no reason to limit your mint julep consumption to the first Saturday in May. This drink is tasty no matter whether or not there’s an equestrian footrace afoot. I’ve discovered a very simple variation on the drink that makes it even better than it was before: replace the simple syrup in a mint julep with pure maple syrup. MMMM, MMMM! Tasty. I encourage all responsible adults over the age of 21 who enjoy whiskey to give it a try.
As a reference for all who don’t have the julep recipe memorized:
* 6-8 mint leaves
* 1 tablespoon cold water
* 1 tablespoon pure maple syrup
* 2 ounces of your favorite bourbon (which should exclude Jim Beam from the possibilities; I recommend Eagle Rare, Knob Creek, or Maker’s Mark)
* ice
Muddle the mint leaves in the bottom of the glass. Add the water and maple syrup and stir well. Add the bourbon and top with ice.
Garnish with a sprig of fresh mint if desired.
I got some beef ribs and some stuff called boiling beef that looks like ribs. What the heck am I supposed to do with them?
Braise them and they’ll be beautiful. Especially if you make a barbecue sauce to go on them and finish them on the grill.
First, season them. I like a nice chili rub: salt, black pepper, cayenne pepper, cumin, and paprika. Throw in a couple more kinds of pepper if you have them on hand; just adjust the toal amount of pepper used to match your idea of how spicy they ought to be. I like to mix my spices together and taste them alone before I add them to my meat, just to make sure I like the combination of flavors. At that point, I adjust as necessary.
So, rub your ribs with the spices and sear them quickly in a very hot cast iron skillet. Transfer the ribs to a pan with a rack and a vary tall lip, cover them, and put them in a 250F oven for about three hours. I repeat: make sure the pan has a tall lip–these ribs will drip a whole bunch of fat as they cook, and you don’t want it to land on the floor of your oven.
I like to save this fat when the ribs are done cooking. You can pour it off into a mason jar and store it in your fridge. This’ll be really good lard to saute with. Also, if you happen to make a beef pot pie, you can use it as the fat for the pie crust to really pull the flavors of all of the layers to pull together….
As soon as you take the ribs out of the pan— deglaze the skillet with a bottle of good, dark beer. Be quick! You don’t want the stuff that came off the ribs to burn! Stir with a wooden spoon to gather the fond of the bottom of the pan. Bring the beer to a b oil then reduce the heat to a simmer. Let the beer cook down. When it’s reduced by two-thirds, whisk in some ketchup, mustard, molasses, pure maple syrup, and the spices you rubbed the beef with (minus the salt). Whisk smooth, taste, and adjust to your liking.
Once the ribs have finished braising, slather them with the barbecue sauce you made and hit them onto a hot charcoal grill right quick to caramelize the sauce on them. Devour with gusto (and a cloth napkin handy).
