Queso-rah, so-rah

Heh.  

This weekend, I had made two big commitments: One to the advancement of style, the other to the advancement of cheese.

Texans, have you ever heard of the Hot Sauce Festival?  I'm willing to bet there's an individual one for each Texas metropolis.  Well the Mohawk adapted that idea this past Saturday for their first ever Quesoff, for which I was a tasting judge.  Let me tell you, it was a pretty tough job. 

And oh my God.  Did the queso contestants bring it, as you can see by the cone of cheese above.  

The challenge pitted regular folk against local restaurants, and of the three winners we selected, two were Everyday Joes and Janes.  One group made their queso using white cheddar and beer; others got all crazy with the cilantro and avocado.  My hands-down favorite was an entry from Frank, which was essentially Seven Layer Dip Queso: Avocado, beans, Rotel, brisket!  And other ingredients!  That I am genuinely forgetting.  Probably because I was in a mental fog due to the fact that I tasted 19 quesos before I got to that one.

I'm going on a macrobiotic / vegan / air-atarian diet for the rest of the week.  

This was my favorite part of the day: The cheese piñata!  My fellow queso judge, Addie Broyles (food writer at the Statesman) took a swing at it, too.

Below, we judges grin happily in a queso-induced euphoria ... me, Rose Reyes from ACVB, Hilah from HilahCooking, Tom Thornton from Austinist, and Addie.

Less than 24 hours later, I woke up and co-hosted the Tribeza Style Brunch, which was totally lovely.  But I really did get no shortage of pleasure out of this combination of events, and insisted on inserting it into conversation: 

"And good morning to you, Tolly!"

"Hello, [name of really pretty Tribeza Style Brunch person]!"

"My weekend has been a whirlwind!  What with Tribeza Style Week, so-and-so's trunk show, a boutique crawl ... !  What did you do this weekend?"

"I ate 25 quesos last night."

" ... oh!"

There's really no way to follow that.  Except to hand me an Alka-Seltzer.  

Midnight Pancakes.

Aren't they just exactly what you want sometimes?

I made these last night when Ross got home late, and hadn't had any dinner yet.  So wifely!

Pancakes may be the one food item I'm good at, which says something about the caliber of cook we're dealing with here.  We use a printed out recipe from the Internet titled "Dot's Whole Wheat Pancakes," and Ross and I theorize that Dot may or may not have been anorexic, because the whole recipe makes three pancakes total.  Not per serving.  If four people are coming to Dot's house for breakfast, each person is getting roughly 3/4 of a pancake.

So, I typically quadruple it.  I also add a secret ingredient: 

This makes it feel like said pancakes are "my" pancakes.  But modest addition though it may be, the coconut milk creamer really does make each cake silky and smooth.  Which came out sounding far sexier than I originally intended.

DOT'S WHOLE WHEAT PANCAKES:

1/3 c. whole wheat flour

2 tbsp. sugar

2 tsp. baking powder

1/4 tsp. salt

1 beaten egg

2/3 c. milk (any kind - I use coconut milk)

2 tbsp. melted butter

*Optional: 2 tbsp. vanilla coconut creamer

Stir ingredients in large mixing bowl, until slightly lumpy.  For each 4-inch pancake, pour 1/4 c. batter onto a warm, pre-greased skillet. 

Foreign Flavors, Domestic Policy.

There's something oddly familiar about Foreign & Domestic.

One year ago, the Austin eatery carved out a small, 42-capacity dining room and kitchen in an old skate shop on North Loop (otherwise known as E. 53rd St.), the perplexingly-named street that does not, in fact, loop.  Rather, it moves in a straight line, connecting the colorful bungalows of Hyde Park to North Lamar -- still the Wild West of north-central Austin, where one is equally likely to encounter an independent feminist book store as they are a Long John Silvers.

But Chef Ned Elliott and his wife Jodi, herself an accomplished pastry chef, enjoy contradictions.  When they broke ground for Foreign & Domestic, they envisioned a neighborhood-friendly atmosphere, with a menu that pushed beyond familiar favorites. Oh, the Brownie Sundae is there.  But it's served with Shoestring French Fries.  A side you could also pair with your main dinner meat, such as Foreign & Domestic's Beef Heart.  (That's Beef Heart Tartare, darlings.) 

Perhaps that's why Foreign & Domestic feels like someplace you've been before, only more interesting.  Its interior evokes that of a chic diner, or a sophisticated greasy spoon.

I stopped by last Thursday to talk to Chef Elliott about the restaurant's participation in Tribeza's Chef's Table Series, going on today through Wednesday.  

Foreign & Domestic in particular will be unveiling their Long Island-inspired multi-course meal -- think oysters, lobster, and cool-in-the-mouth desserts -- on Tuesday evening, and serving on Wednesday night as well.

Chef Ned Elliott and Chef de Cuisine, Nathan Lemley

While Chef Elliott and I were talking, Foreign & Domestic's Chef de Cuisine Nathan Lemley prepared me a hearty Flank Steak Wagyu: Their take on Korean Bim Bim Bap, with more proteins in one bowl than I probably consume in a whole day.  

Chef Elliott told me that as a child, he was raised by two mothers, both with a fondness for gardening, cooking, and an Appalachian-fostered sense of culinary resourcefulness.  Meaning, cow tongue for dinner was no big deal.  

So naturally, the flank steak in my bowl was carted in from Yoakum, Texas, roughly two hours away.  It was layered with salty bacon, soy beans, and poached egg (see what I mean about proteins?), along with shiitake mushrooms, fried orzo, basil, chives, and a savory, tart broth -- a welcome surprise, underneath all that rich, mouth-coating meat.  

The smeared streak of red on the side of the bowl is a fermented red pepper paste, which I scraped off with my steak-laden fork.  Its taste reminded me of hot chilis that had been doused with citrusy white wine.

Foreign & Domestic has always been one of those restaurants teetering at the very top of our Date Night list.  I don't know why it's taken me so long to visit.  

But now that I have, I suspect it will become a restaurant for me like Second, or even Uchiko.  One that I evangelize every chance I get, a restaurant that has me praising the Food Gods and speaking in high-falutin' culinary tongues.

Or in this case, cow tongues.

(You can get more details on Foreign & Domestic here, and Tribeza's Chef's Table Series here.)

The best thing you ever tasted.

People, what is the best thing you ever tasted?

I ask because you are likely with your families right now, or other people you love.  At least, I hope you are.  Are any of you still working?  Do me a favor.  Walk over to your boss, and kick him/her.  Then, proceed to the nearest exit.  Yay!

Anyway.  When we're around the people we love, we tend to eat really well.  I think this happens for two reasons.  A) Preparing good food is, for many, an expression of love, and B) from the eater's side, we actually let ourselves linger over what has been cooked for us.  And, lingering is a key component of eating well.  A component I fail at, grandly, but a component all the same.

This is me, "cooking."   I'm pretty sure I burnt this.

Here in Austin, we are blessed with a really thriving foodie culture.  There is much enthusiasm with little snobbery.  Perhaps it's because we are a relatively new culinary center, and truth be told, are still probably quite far off from being a New York or a San Francisco.  I mean, I guess?  Those two are always held up as THE American eating cities, but is that just the rich people talking?  Could be.

However, let's assume for now that San Francisco and New York host some badass chefs (fact) and diners who actively seek out amazing food (fact).  The difference between places like those, and places like Austin, is -- I think -- an issue of play.  We take food seriously here ... sort of.  All I have to say is "food trailer," and you know what I'm talking about. 

Still.  What those cities have over Austin, probably, is a set of vigorously practiced culinary traditions.  Tradition is powerful.  It is very comforting.  As we near the holidays, you are likely spooning up big mouthfuls of tradition as I write this post.

Food "play" and food "tradition" are two different concepts, and the reason I bring up tradition, juxtaposed against play, is because you get so much of the latter, dish-wise, when you eat out.

But the former?  Tradition?  That's not just San Francisco or New York.  That's Mom.

* * *

My mom makes these cheese grits that will bring you to tears (of joy).  She's making them for Christmas in a few days, and they might be the best thing I ever tasted.  Each bite tastes like a mythical South I want to visit, only more decadent -- more naughty.  The top layer of her grits always has a glistening, gooey layer of cheese on top, sheathing the buttery mash below.

In other artery-clogging delights, my dad used to make me this breakfast that he learned in Vietnam, and because it's so bad for you, we don't really eat it anymore.  But S.O.S, or, "Shit on Shingles," is one of those warm tradition foods that totally sends me back.  I remember thick, white sauce, mixed with sausage, poured over Bisquick biscuits.  Such a dad dish.  I loved it when I had a little bit of sauce, and a little bit of biscuit left, and could run the biscuit through the middle of my plate, soaking up the creamy remains. 

Getting to know your favorite foods is no small thing.  It says things about you, your family, the way you treat yourself, the way you deny yourself.  And all the time, we have to keep our favorite foods in such a delicate balance, lest we get sick of them.  Like grilled chicken salad.  Right, dieters?

Things get old.  We have to veer away from our favorite foods, just for the joy of coming back.  So maybe our favorite foods are also our special foods, things we save for occasions, like holidays or birthdays or second dates.  It's corny, but I believe true, that when something has been prepared with love, you can taste the love specifically.

* * *

So what is the best thing you ever tasted?  Here are some of mine.


1. My mom's Browned Brussels Sprouts.  I have a fierce, passionate love for brussels sprouts.  I think they are incredibly tasty steamed, plain, and because I am joined with roughly 2% of the population in this opinion, they are never out-of-stock at the grocery store.  But!  To make them truly mind-blowing, I do what my mom does:

Steam the sprouts first, then when they are "al dente," transfer them to a sauce pan with a generous amount of olive oil.  Saute until brown with lemon pepper.  Lots and lots of lemon pepper.

And then ... you eat them.

It's 5-year-old easy.  But so damn good.

So NOT my brussels sprouts, but I wanted you to get an idea of what we're talking about here.  (And, pine nuts?  Genius).  Thank you SlashFood for the image. 

2. Ross' Ostrich/Lamb Cranberry and Feta Meatloaf.  I am incredibly fortunate to be married to one hell of a cook.  And because of this I don't mind that he watches Giada de Laurentiis with slack-jawed attention, because GUESS WHAT, I get to eat her food.  It's a win-win.

Anyway, Ross takes Giada's recipe for Turkey, Sun-Dried Tomatoes and Feta Meatloaf, and tweaks it.  His version contains the afore-mentioned ostrich and lamb meat combo, since ostrich is incredibly lean, while lamb is incredibly rich and oily.  He combines equal amounts of both in the mixing bowl, and together, the two balance out each other.

Then, he subs out sun-dried tomatoes for dried cranberries, although I've had it with tomatoes before, too, and that is super delicious. Sometimes he adds other crazy things in it like cherries, or curry, or raisins, because meatloaf is accommodating that way.

When he's all done, we totally murder that meatloaf.  Nothing has ever made me feel so gleefully carnivorous as that big pan of baked meat.   Meatloaf has a reputation as "unsexy" food, and it's true -- it's not much to look at.

This is probably the most flattering shot you will ever see of meatloaf.

So, if you make this dish, just close your eyes and take a generous, greedy bite.  Don't look, just taste. 

3.  A dessert at Uchiko called Tobacco Cream.  Ok, I'm cheating.  This dish can obviously be had only by going out, and falls firmly in the "play" (vs. "tradition") camp.  And you're probably not going out to eat anytime soon, since it's the holidays, and if I had my wits about me I would try to tell you about a peppermint or gingerbread some-such ... but, look how pretty!

(Thank you to Orthogonal Thought for the photo.)

Uchiko's Tobacco Cream is made out of choco­late sorbet, maple budino, huck­le­berry, scotch.  Does anyone have any idea what "maple budino" is?   I do not.  All I know is, I ate this during Austin Restaurant Week, and silently freaked out.

Such an aggressive dessert, underneath that pretty presentation.  Smoke, and dark chocolate, and liquor.  Not everyone is a fan of the savory/sweet thing in desserts, but I AM.  Big time.  Give me your salted caramel macchiato, your rosemary apple pie, your bizarre cigar/chocolate dessert inventions!  I'll savor them all!

And you?  What is the best thing you ever tasted?  Ironically, I'm reading a book right now by the same name -- The Best Thing I Ever Tasted, by Sallie Tisdale -- but I'm afraid to report it turns rather whiny at the end! 

But, she did inspire the post, after all.  So cheers, Sallie.

Tomorrow night, it's wine o' clock.

It's a lushy week so far on Austin Eavesdropper, non?

Yesterday we were discussing cocktails, but today let's talk about wine.  A) Because it's the most universally accepted alcohol at Thanksgiving, and B) because wine is fantastic.  No argument there.

I have been a wino-in-training for years now, and for this I blame my educational path.  In college, I studied abroad in Italy, and in grad school, I lived just a few miles away from Napa Valley. This was all very fortunate, because unlike the majority of twentysomethings, I don't like beer.  How snobby is that?  My taste buds find most beer, even quality beer -- the kind made from wheat that's been delicately massaged and blessed by Belgian monks -- repulsive.  Historically I have been that girl at parties, the cupless one staring at the keg, a little too sober and a little too, "hey guys! Wanna hear something I heard on NPR?? Snort!" for everyone's taste.

But in Italy and Napa, my finicky wine preferences and I fit right in!  And increasingly, I'm finding my fellow wine flock here in Austin, too.  Ross likes wine.  So do our friends. And wine bars are becoming a rather trendy thing here, it seems: Vino Vino (my favorite), House Wine, Uncorked.

So for us -- the wine lovers of Austin -- there is something fun tomorrow night.  A tasting at Four Seasons' TRIO, with food pairings and tips for weaving wines into a Thanksgiving menu.  (Oh Four Seasons, my thanks will heartily given).

four seasons' first-ever virtual wine tasting
Wednesday, November 17
6:00pm

Wait, "virtual?" Allow me to explain. Four Seasons Austin is big on social media -- they've hosted two of our Bleet-Ups, including the very first one! And, for this event, they are conducting both a live tasting with participants, and Tweeting the session using this hashtag: #FSWine.

Twitter winos ("Twinos?") can pre-purchase the wines ahead of time (see bottles below), and Tweet along with the lesson, learning how to organize a wine tasting at home.

Or ... you can join me!  Meaning, live.  We'll do it live!

The in-person session at TRIO will feature Mark Sayre, one of Wine & Spirits Magazine's "7 Best New Sommeliers of 2010," James Tidwell, head of the Texas Sommelier Association, and Dana Farner, Beverage Director of CUT Beverly Hills. They will lead a tasting of ...

Loosen Bros. Dr. L Riesling

Paraiso Syrah

Chappellet Mountain Cuvee 

... and teach us the flavor profiles of each, and how to pair them with seasonal dishes. Dishes that TRIO's Chef de Cuisine, Todd Duplechan, will ALSO be sampling.

My gluttonous little heart just skipped a beat!

Tickets are a steal at $18. To get 'em, email Kerri Holden at kerri.holden@fourseasons.com or call 512-685-8048.

Also?  While we're on the subject, what's your favorite wine?  Because I can't stop buying Gnarly Head Old Vine Zinfandel.  It's getting a little out of control.

Thanks to Lee for above photo.

Would you do a mixology date?

Last Friday, I heard Richard Florida speak. Saturday, I saw Waiting for Superman. And on Sunday, folks, I watched The Millionare Matchmaker.

Now.  For those of you reading, I hope you'll come back again this week, because I have more to say on both Richard Florida and especially Waiting for Superman. About creativity and innovation in Austin, about the way gender resonates in the professional creative sector, and about nurturing creative and confident minds in the largely broken American public education system.

But today ... well today, I would like to talk about cocktails.

This is where The Millionaire Matchmaker comes in. Note the deliberate non-linking here. I'm a little embarrassed as it is to admit watching that show, so I'll hold off on sending you there directly. However, last Sunday, The Millionaire Matchmaker featured A) a hot mess millionaire, B) more hot mess millionaire-marrying hopefuls, and C) all of them together on a mixology date.

Now that last part, the mixology date, is truly genius. And it's an idea I want to float to Austin, in hopes that one of our bars or restaurants will invent this.

Whenever Ross and I go on Date Night, we usually go out to eat somewhere, and if we are feeling truly adventurous, we might also go see a movie. Wow! We've also taken cooking classes together at Central Market, but just for special occasions, since those are a bit pricey.

But I long to mix things up. A little change of pace, non?

Enter the mixology date.

Basically, a bartender / mixologist hosts a handful of people -- say, 10 max -- at their establishment, and shows them a few basics.  Each person or couple has a shaker and a mini-station of spirits and mixers, where they are taught how to balance and ratio ingredients.  So for the first hour, you learn how to make the classics: A Margarita, a Dirty Martini, a Whiskey Sour.  Depending on the skill level of the class, this hour could also be devoted to more involved drinks: A French 75, a Dark and Stormy, a Sidecar.

Also -- I lied. We're watching The Millionaire Matchmaker.


Alright, so that's the group part. You're learning together from the mixologist. The way this is set up on the show is kind of like elimiDATE, but ignore the guy / girl ratio: You could do this with fellow couples, as a bachelorette, or with a group of friendly strangers.

The second hour is devoted to you breaking off into small groups or pairs, then inventing some drinks on your own.  You have cards where you can write down ingredients and the name of your cocktail when you invent a winner.

And FINALLY -- this part I made up entirely -- you make samples of your winning drink, in shot glasses, and pass them around for the rest of the participants to try. Everyone votes on the winner, and for that week, the winning drink gets served at the establishment!

If some bar in Austin hosted this type of class on Friday nights -- Peche? FINO? -- I would be all over it.  I'm not the most creative cook in the world, but I do enjoy mixing drinks.  It was a revelation to me that one could appreciate a spirit's character all on its own, rather than mixing it down into oblivion. The science experiment aspect of drink-making really appeals to me for some reason, and when I get right down to it, I think I'm just a little impatient. It takes forever to cook a good meal, but just a few seconds to mix a fabulous cocktail.

A few of the "Mad Men"-themed cocktails Peche was preparing for a while. Drinks I would love to learn how to make!

who else is into this idea?

                          

La Dolce Vita Austin: Or, Attack of the Awesome Colored Suit People.

Last week, Ross and I went to the annual fundraiser for Austin Museum of Art, La Dolce Vita.  Perhaps you've heard of it.  La Dolce Vita is a food and wine event where all of Austin's fancy restaurants, regional vineyards, homespun bakeries, and close-to-home spirits line the perimeter of Laguna Gloria in booths, and bring their sampling A-game.

East Side Show Room

Cuatro's

At La Dolce Vita, it's never just, "here, try our tacos!"  It's, "here, try our pork belly tacos. Smothered in fresh avocado and tangy chimichurri sauce, wrapped in this flavorful corn tortilla."  Well ok, I guess I can do that.

Every year, La Dolce Vita plays on -- as one might expect -- an Italian theme. Last year, it was all very Federico Fellini. Sexy, 1950s Italy, with special parking for Vespas.

But this year? The theme was Italian Futurism.

Maybe this gives you a clue as to what Italian Futurism is?

Me neither. Friends, my art history background is patchy.

But the moment he stepped foot on the grounds, I was fascinated by this guy.

As soon as Ross and I got there, he made a break for the fountain.

Then, his friends joined him:

I said to Ross, "quick -- take a picture of me."

This clearly has 'Facebook profile pic' written all over it.

Ross eventually dragged me away from the color-suited men, and insisted we go try some food.

Sao Paulo's

Spicewood Vineyards

La Condesa

Word of Mouth Catering

All the little bites were, of course, impossibly delicious.

... But I kept getting distracted.

"Those people are scaring me," I heard several guests say.  Look at the guy above.  Manning the portable grill.  That is a face of concern.

But the more they kept running around, performing their colored suit people histrionics, the more I became OBSESSED them. I couldn't get enough! Who were they? Who hired them?

"Tolly, I think you're more into the colored people than the food," said Ross.

"You're right," I said. "Back to work."

Cake Ball

Cuvee Coffee (both)

Dusted chocolate truffle?  With salted caramel macchiato?  Don't mind if I do!

BUT THEN, out of the corner of my eye, I saw this little spectacle start to unfold.

It was like a dance, only the purple one was more sedate, and the blue one was more joyous.

Diva! The blue one is such a diva.

This is where things started to get weird. By which I mean, fantastic.

Don't you love how the guests are all, "what the f--?" They just don't know what to make of this!

I turned back around with my camera, just in time to capture his friend.

Stroke of genius, La Dolce Vita.

NOTE to Austin party planners of formal events: Please hire the colored suit people for your next affair. I highly recommend them.
asdfasdf