Misadventuring in New Mexico

Our trip to Hillsboro became an adventure. It rained hard after turning north from the Hatch cutoff, in fact so hard that we stopped at the first dip--and indeed, it was full of rushing water. We waited for 20 minutes, a couple of other vehicles came along, and it subsided enough that we crossed it although it had a strong current and was up to mid-tire. Two miles later we crossed a shallow running stream (over pavement) and then came up on a big new drainage coursing across the road. We decided to turn around and take the long way on the freeway, but on the way back a new wash had occurred, a big one, so we were trapped between two flash floods. We contemplated spending the night in our car--no problem, plenty of food and wine on board, and we were on fairly high ground. In a half hour the far stream had subsided and we drove on.

We got to Hillsboro at dusk and the town was so dead, we thought the power was out. Not so--the town of 200 people or so was just quiet, asleep. We had reserved a room at the single motel, but there was nobody there. Dad checked his notes from making the reservation, and Room 7 was mentioned. The door was unlocked, so we made ourselves at home. The owner came over later in the evening to give us a key. We took a walk around town in the lessening rain, and then ate our cold supper of smoked salmon, Jarlsberg, crackers, fruit, and chocolate, with champagne--we were prepared, as usual. The room was clean and comfortable.

The next morning the town's single restaurant was open for breakfast and we found two stools at the old-fashioned counter. We waited an hour for breakfast because apparently the whole town was there, but it was worth the wait: I had a bowl of homemade pinto beans topped with a fried egg, melted cheese, and Hatch green chile. This absolutely replaces the loco moco in my book.

On the way we had lunch in Deming, New Mexico, which has a terrible freeway presence and we usually avoid. But we found a nice little shady downtown area with several restaurants, including Campo's. I had the best chiles rellenos of my life. They were advertised on the menu as "lightly crisped." I can't decide if they were lightly floured and deep-fried, or lightly battered and sauteed--anyway, it was mostly chile stuffed with cheese, and on top of that, a homemade tomatillo sauce. Wow. The place was busy, mostly because of a large family having a First Communion lunch with a little girl in a white lace dress.

After that lunch we visited the local winery, Luna Rossa, which had lovely vines hanging with grapes, and the wine was pretty good. We bought a couple of bottles. We'll share them when you visit us.

Restaurant Review: One and Three-quarters Thumbs Down

We ate last night at Sur Real, an upscale Latin-themed restaurant on Skyline Drive near La Costalotta. Reviews have been good, and the promise of Cuban flavors excited us. I knew we'd made a mistake when I couldn't hear the hostess welcoming us because of the loud "Latin jazz" band that overwhelmed the room. The band did sound vaguely Latin, although the only tune I really recognized besides The Girl from Ipanema was The Days of Wine and Roses with the rhythm distorted.

The partial thumb up is because it was South of the Border wine night, and all the South American and Spanish wines were $5 a glass. I had a Spanish garnacha and an Argentinian white I can't remember the name of, and Dad also fared well. They were all delicious.

Because of the band and the cheap wine, the bar was filled with younger people, and they were having a good time. It was definitely a mismatch for us--all the old people like ourselves in the place (Tucson is full of them, they're everywhere) had strained expressions on their faces, and were frowning and cupping their ears when the waiter spoke to them.

But, the food: We had acceptable empanadas for an appetizer, filled with chicken and sweet potato. I ordered paella and should have been alerted by the mention of arborio rice. Indeed, it wasn't a pilaf at all, but a leaden risotto dotted with little shrimp, cubes of chicken breast, and some salami-like sausage chunks which I swear were flavored with Liquid Smoke. Small clams sat on top. The thing weighed a good five pounds--its remains sit in the refrigerator as I write, like a doorstop. Dad's a good sport and will eat it for the next several lunches. Pray for him.

Guatemalan Longaniza

Hey, Mom, I finally re-created the sausage you and Dad and I had at that Guatemalan restaurant (aptly named "Guatemalan Restaurant") in Tucson.

The menu, you'll remember, said:

Longaniza: Guatemalan style sausage stuffed with ground pork,

onions, jalapeno peppers, mint and spices.

The sausage was grilled over hot coals, almost blackened in some places but never burnt. It was stuffed in hog casings that the chef split open prior to grilling. The pork was quite lean and finely ground for sausage. The mint and chiles were fresh and abundant. It was like nothing I'd had before.

So I looked for a recipe. And it turns out this post is destined to become the top search result for the phrase "Guatemalan longaniza," simply because I couldn't find any such thing anywhere on the internet or in any of my cookbooks. There's Spanish longaniza, which is smoked and mint-free. There's Mexican longaniza, which appears to be like Mexican chorizo except in casings (look, a video from Arizona on Mexican sausagemaking in which the narrator has a Castilian accent. Seriously, listen to the Spanish version. Where did they find that guy?)

And there's Filipino longaniza, which is garlicky, spicy, sometimes sweet, and occasionally contains mint.

But no Guatemalan longaniza. I wonder if the chef, the older woman at that restaurant, has connections or family in the Philippines? Maybe there's a Filipino community in Guatemala? You'll have to do further investigative work for me, I'm afraid.

Anyway, I bought a Boston butt on sale at Publix and cut the meat off the bone. I used about three pounds of meat and froze the rest. I decided not to add any fat as I usually would for sausage: the butt was quite fatty already, and I wanted to keep it lean like what we had.

So I mixed the following together and sent it through my grinder fitted with the finer of the two blades:

• 3 pounds fatty pork, cut into strips
• a white onion, diced and sauteed in olive oil
• a clove of garlic, minced and added to saute pan at end
  
• a handful of fresh mint
• a jalapeno from the grocery store
• a few tabascos from last year's garden, frozen, since grocery store jalapenos are so lame
• red pepper flakes to round up the chile flavor
  
• kosher salt
• black pepper (lots)
  
• fresh thyme (not much)
  
• 1/3 cup light rum

I also separately chiffonaded another handful of mint and mixed it in after the grinding, since the grind was so fine and I wanted some visible mint leaves.

But it wasn't quite right. I put the mixture in the fridge and thought about it for a whole day...and finally realized the secret ingredient had to be a good dose of sugar. That would account for the scorched look of the restaurant sausages where the filling had burbled out of the slits. And it worked: it pulled the mint and spices together in a very Vietnamese way.

So I added:

• several tablespoonfuls of sugar

In fact, Lawson's first comment on the sausages (which he liked) was that they reminded him of the Chinese sweet sausages he used to eat in NYC and at The Orient, the Chinese restaurant in Columbia where he learned much of what he knows about Chinese cooking.

Next time I think I will add lime or orange zest or juice, just a touch. I may also play with some other spices besides thyme and pepper.

I stuffed these into medium hog casings, tied them into 5" links, and hung them in the fridge for two days. I used the gas grill to cook them the first batch, but I will grill them over wood next time. I have been enjoying my homemade sausages grilled over wood so, so, so much more than over gas. The wood seems to fill in the flavor gaps and mellow any dominant flavors -- like, my bratwurst over gas taste too strongly of nutmeg, but over wood they have the right musky, earthy-homemade nutmeg solidity but don't necessarily taste like snickerdoodles.

The longaniza was good. I'll make it again -- it's a very summery sausage.

I have sausages and pork on the brain after interviewing local food activist, politician, and fancypants pig farmer Emile DeFelice a few days ago for an upcoming Free Times story. We foraged for mushrooms (well, as much as my inappropriate footwear would allow). Fangirl and journalist struggled mightily within me. Fortunately, the best defense against asking questions like "How'd you get so awesome?" is to ask as few questions as possible and just let a guy talk. (Actually, that's pretty much my one and only interview tactic: Shut the hell up.) Look for the article on Wednesday.

No good sausage or Emile pictures, sorry. My camera woes continue.

Lunching Out

With Grandma in rehab (that's physical therapy, for those of you who don't know her), the last few days we have fallen into a pattern: we visit her in the morning and take her the paper; we visit her in the afternoon; and in between we go out to lunch. This will have to stop. Thursday we had trendy Italian; yesterday we had Greek (a grilled eggplant sandwich for me--Eva, we must find out how they do their grilled eggplant!); and today a Guatemalan restaurant called Maya Quetzal.

The place is completely uninspiring when you look in the cash register, linoleum floor, and plastic chairs. But if you go through to the back patio, it's pleasant. We were with Mary Ellen, so we could order three different things. She had pork in an amazing pipian sauce, Dad had chiles rellenos containing spinach, walnuts, and more, and I had the divine vegetarian plate. There was a turnover made of a thick corn tortilla stuffed with cheese, walnuts, and spinach; black beans; and then instead of the "Spanish" rice the others had, my plate had a side of white rice cooked with corn, sour cream, and cheese. It was really the best rice dish any of us have ever had.

Now I am going to drag you to that restaurant when you visit, and I'm also going to try to find that recipe.

We went to the local street fair two days in a row, once to look at woodworking vendors with David, and once on a Christmas shopping expedition. The Greek and Guatemalan restaurants were in that district, so we walked to lunch both of those days. It's been in the 70's at midday, with clouds and sunsets in the evening.

Election Night Eating

Patty ate one of the cat's toys, a tiny white mouse on wheels.

The cat hasn't been eating her canned food lately, so Patty ate that, too.

Lawson and I are going to eat takeout from Bangkok Restaurant, the little hole-in-the-wall Thai place by our house. It's not the greatest ever, but the semi-Americanized staples are good: pad thai, masaman curry, pad see ew. Maybe tonight I'll branch out to a red curry.

We were in the mountains this weekend. Sunday night we saw Billy Bragg in Asheville; before the show we ate at a mixed noodle joint that was pretty okay. My spicy wonton noodle soup had wonderful soft homemade wontons full of ginger and pork and sesame oil, but the broth was kind of bland.

Otherwise, we ate sandwiches and cheese and fresh North Carolin apples and things like that. And because we spent two days sawing and hauling trees and branches and cutting a new trail, we ate big breakfasts of fried eggs, bacon, and toast. Many, many calories were consumed and burned. It was fun.

Golden Bag

No cooking in this post -- nothing especially amazing in the Chinese takeout department, either -- but I was in love with this greasy bag our complimentary eggroll came in.

The mu shu pork was pretty decent: classic brown sauce, tender pork, finely shredded cabbage. The pancakes were kind of gross and prepackaged, but whatever. It was quite late on a Sunday night, and we were excessively pleased to find somewhere open.

The kung pao chicken? Fine. A little bland. No pronounced dried red chile flavor. Cashews contributed no flavor. Better with some fresh garden chiles.

I think we got five meals out of this two-dish order: dinner for two, lunch for two, and a snack for one. Quite a deal. But probably the last time I eat Chinese takeout for another few years.

More Whining About the Sad State of Food in America

I went to a conference of piano teachers over the last three days. We opened with a three-hour meeting of the board, with a break for "dinner" (menu: sub sandwiches, an assortment of chips, soda pop.) I wasn't too worried because there was to be a reception for the guest artists and presenters after the meeting. Oops--menu: doughnuts, brownies, soda pop.

A friend and I went out for food supplements afterwards--beer and salad.

Fortunately, I am very paranoid about getting caught with nothing healthy to eat, so I had brought with me yogurt, raspberries and other fruit, Wasa, Jarlsberg cheese, and two bottles of wine. I resorted to these many times over the three days, and gladdened the heart of several fellow attendees with a glass of wine.

I ate dinner once at the hotel restaurant, which had a reasonably priced Chipotle Chicken plate. It had a large serving of fresh vegetables and a side of roasted red potatoes, the chicken was a bland breast fillet with a little sauce but it was cooked well--i.e., not dried out. That was the purchased meal highlight of the trip. Hooray to them for the fresh veggies!

I visited two chain restaurants because I didn't wish to be a problem to my companions. The first was Rock Bottom, a brew pub. I can't complain because I ordered a small Caesar salad and a pale ale, and both were pretty much as advertised (they didn't brag). We ate outside, always a plus in the southwest. The second was My Big Fat Greek Restaurant, where I ordered a Greek salad. Raymond had a pomegranate mojito. The place was generic in every way including the food, except for the very loud music--the same at all their locations, I understand. I wouldn't go again, although I didn't suffer any actual digestive or hearing damage.

How did I get to be such a snob? I promise to be more positive.

At home tonight I made pork chops, brown rice, and zucchini, followed by fresh pineapple. This is a quick and easy recipe:

Pork Chops with Green Chile Sauce

4 pork chops

Flour, salt, pepper
Olive oil

Dredge the pork chops in flour, salt, and pepper. Brown thoroughly on both sides. Add to the skillet:

3 or 4 chopped tomatoes (I used partly tomatillos)

1/2 sliced onion

3 cloves garlic, sliced

2 to 4 chopped green chiles

1 teaspoon oregano

More salt and pepper to taste

Stir and cook until things begin to wilt, then cover the pan and simmer until pork is tender, 30 minutes or more.

Local Pizza

I am overjoyed to have a local pizza joint, the kind where we walk in and the waitress waves cheerfully and then ambles over to our table with a pitcher of the correct beer. Any deviation from our routine is cause for comment: once I placed a to-go order, and when Lawson went to pick it up she said "You're early, and your pizza's too small." (Usually we arrive late enough that we are the last people there and the waitress starts mopping with Pine-Sol as we are finishing our pitcher.)

About a year ago we decided to try every pizza in town. We've had some accomplices in the quest, most notably Ken and Melanie, but we haven't been very methodical and still have a long way to go. And much of the time when we want to go out for pizza, we go to our local place. It's less than two miles away and has excellent ambience: plastic checkered tablecloths, comfortable booths, wrestling on the TV, friendly pregnant teenagers, and assorted townie customers in camouflage hats and TapouT T-shirts.

It does not have the world's greatest pizza. We can make much fancier and more delicious pizzas at home. It's not New York-style or Sicilian or anything identifiably regional...it might be slightly Greek, but not intensely so. It's not super-thin cracker-style Southern crust. It's not soft bland pizza chain crust. But it has a few things going for it:

• It is HOT. It comes to the table steaming and crispy and perfect, with no delay between oven and us.
• The crust is crisp and airy such that its flavor doesn't much matter. The flavor is above average but not impressive in any way. But the texture is just right. It's also retrievable, in that a few minutes in the toaster oven the next day will return the crust to almost its original state.
• The sauce is subtle and balanced and not applied too heavily.
• The ingredients are applied with the proper hand. If we order four toppings, slightly less of each topping is used than if we order three toppings. There is never a glut of Genoa salami or mushrooms or cheese or anything else -- they are applied thoughtfully.

I wish we had more perfect local markets and eateries.

Foods Eaten in Washington, DC

I've managed to eat pretty well considering I'm on a dorky business trip, working all day in an office building in an office park and staying in a hotel in the very same office park, all of it surrounded by chain restaurants. But I'm with people who like food, so we've found some good things:

• A tiny Caribbean place with just a counter and two tables. I had curried goat with beans and rice. On the side were sweet plantains and a sort of cabbage vinaigrette. This was one of the best meals I have ever eaten.


• A fancy Thai place. I had broiled tuna with basil and red curry. The fish was overdone, but the sauce was good. My boss's duck was excellent.


• An Israeli deli. I had a beef kebab sandwich on the best homemade grilled flatbread with cucumbers and tomatoes and tahini dressing. A nice boy in suspenders and a yarmulke brought us a complientary bowl of homemade dill pickles (SO good) and green olives.


• A little deli/grill with an Italian name run by a Korean family and featuring such varied offerings as Denver omelets and sushi. I have been eating piles and piles of perfectly prepared vegetables from the salad bar, some of them quite foreign to me. The bok choy is great; the snow peas with dried cranberries are, too.

But then, of course, there have been meals of mediocre chain pizza and mediocre prime rib in Elks Lodge-like surroundings. It does not help that Lawson's garden far to the south is spitting out eggplant and zucchini faster than he can eat them. I am ready to cook again.

Restaurant food

This post may appear to have nothing to do with cooking, but there's nothing that makes me want to stay home and cook like a solid week and a half of restaurant food. Even when it's good, it's still too much -- too rich, too big. But I ate some wonderful food. Here are some of the highlights from my trip to see Mary, meet Alex, and watch Brent get married. Somehow Mary's hands appear in most of the pictures. I should have let her take the pictures -- she's the pro.

This Cuban restaurant was so good that I forgot to take a picture until after we'd eaten. Empanadas, beet salad, soupy beans, a Cuban sandwich, and many little roulade-type things I can't remember the names of:



Pizza at a bar in Belltown in Seattle (onions, sun-dried tomatoes, and sausage):



My daily breakfast from the bakery across the street from the hotel: a latte and a fresh fruit muffin (I failed to take a picture of the incredible lemon-lavender coffeecake):



Sushi in Portland. The best thing was albacore with basil.



Tapas in Portland (pre-dinner snack) -- that's salami, cornichons, cheeses, figs stewed in port, and crostini:



More pizza, wood-fired and incredible this time, with rare lamb in the background:



Not pictured: a falafel sandwich, a piroshky, airplane pretzels, good mayonnaise-based salads and cold cuts at Brent's wedding, and bad pickled herring at IKEA.

All in all, a wonderful trip for eating. But I'm happy to be home having a breakfast of plain yogurt, almonds, and a banana.