Showing posts with label Mardi Gras. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mardi Gras. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

What's the Big Fat Deal?

A recent Huffington Post email headline reads, "American Fast Food Reaches Glorious New Low." I'd gotten so used to seeing the phrase new low in association with national employment stats or the stock market that I was prepared to read about a decrease in the percentage of fast-food consumers. Given that fast food and diabetes are strongly linked, public health officials might laud a departure from high-calorie eating as glorious, and a health conscious reporter, perhaps the one who titled yesterday's email, might reveal his angle–or her personal opinion–in such a food-related headline. 

As it turns out, though, the word glorious, at least in this context, seems to have meant "wow, that got my attention," and not, "I admire or love that."


The opening paragraph of Tuesday's article reads: "Americans may or may not be ready for Taco Bell's Waffle Taco. (Could we ever be ready for a breakfast sandwich of sausage and eggs wedged into the crevice of a folded waffle, then topped off with maple syrup?)." 

To which I say, "Don't be so incredulous!" At the restaurant where I work, we have a cheddar and bacon pancake that patrons douse with syrup and butter. They also eat scrambled eggs on top of their french toast, and they slather jam on savory biscuits.

If, for example, it's okay to pair berries with stinky cheese, then encase it in phyllo dough before baking it, then what's so bad about Taco Bell's waffle?

This new waffle (unless someone decides to put Velveta cheese on it) is nowhere near as gross as the Wrigley's mint chocolate gum that I saw yesterday. But, should the gum get more credit because it's sugar-free? I intend to sleep on that.

I say that if we're going to fault anyone for our interest in tasty but unusual combinations of food, let us talk to Ben and Jerry of Vermont. It wasn't until I started eating their ice cream that my own had anything other than a spoon, and maybe some nuts, in it.

Ben and Jerry's used to seem kind of expensive, and was a novelty for a while. Taco Bell's waffle, I fear, isn't quite as creative.

But people are eating it, and you won't find me shaking a finger. Having looked through the window of awe-inspiring restaurants like Las Vegas's Heart Attack Grill, which serves customers a Guinness-certified "World's Most Calorific Burger," I'm not easily shocked these days. I also acknowledge that my upbringing in New Orleans, with its giant muffuletta and Po-boy sandwiches, has shaped the way I view food. With Fat Tuesday less than a week away, I wish I could share a gluttonous meal with my New Orleanian friends and relatives.


Courtesy of WikiMedia Commons

Some of them, no doubt, will sample Food Drunk's King Cake Burger. Let them eat alone! Though I love a good king cake with cream cheese filling, never in a million years would I add cheddar cheese and beef to a sweet brioche roll. It's not that I'm a hamburger purist. You can add cheese and pickles (even sweet ones), and mayonnaise, and all that stuff. But I draw the line at icing and sugar sprinkles.

My biggest objection to the King Cake Burger is that it physically leaves no room for the plastic baby. In New Orleans, tradition dictates that whomever gets the king cake baby in her piece buys for the next party. No baby means no tradition and I'm stuck paying the bill for a bizarre meal which I may or may not have eaten alone.

I may be a food adventurist. I may have been a cornbread pusher during childhood. I may occasionally be desperate to prove something. At the end of the day, though, I don't eat weird stuff for free.

Instead, on a very rare occasion, I go to Taco Bell. I order one small bean burrito and an absurdly large diet drink.



Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Crock Pot King Cake Fail. Well, mostly

Nobody's ever told me not to make a crock pot king cake–or shown me how for that matter–so last night I tried my hand with a conventional Epicurious recipe. And I had no trouble with the kneading or braiding the three separate pieces of dough. It was when I was putting it all in the crock pot that I saw it would be a challenge to keep the desired hole-in-the center form. 

Still, I set it to slow-cooking (4 hrs. is the shortest cycle on my crock pot) and got ready for bed. In less than an hour, a hunch propelled me into the kitchen where, sure enough, the failure was already in process. The outside of the dough was getting crispy and the inside was still very moist.

Why, I wondered, had I mostly botched the job?
I think it's clear there was too much dough. I also think it makes sense to bake any crock pot bread in a loaf pan, and this was news to me until this morning. 

I remembered that one of the best things about my favorite king cake is that it forgives a lot once you slather it with icing and sprinkles. So, I scooped out the middle of what was in the crock pot and baked it in the oven. The result was amateur, but delicious, as you might imagine. 



I'd like to mention some advice a doctor gave me a few years ago. After I'd run several long distance races, a podiatrist looked at my x-rays and said to me, "I'm not going to tell you to never run again, but you know the consequences if you do."

I'd say the same thing to anyone interested in making a crock pot king cake. It's doable, but be prepared for disaster.

If you want to keep it simple, try these mini baked king cakes or split the Epicurious recipe in half, plug in your slow cooker and watch it like it's your newborn child. I'm not sure how that's any more convenient than simply baking king cake in the oven, but it certainly builds character, something Catholics will need in the coming season of sacrifice.

-MDB

Saturday, February 9, 2013

Saturday Aristocrat Pancakes

As a child, I had the great fortune of having my grandfather whistle while he made breakfast for my sister and me. He often combined three or four different cereals with chopped apples, grapes, and whatever berries were around. In fact, his next door neighbor–a passionate amateur chef who railed at Emeril–was my first cooking inspiration. They've both passed away, and so if I find it too quiet on a leisurely morning when I'm at the stove, I tune into NPR. Today, I almost mistook the back-East accents of Tom and Ray Magliozzi for Big Easy Mardi Gras revelers.

This morning, while across the country my mother was draped in shiny beads, I whipped up a brand new recipe of pancakes with bananas, Bosc 'the aristocrat of pears,' strawberries and yogurt. No purple or green streamers but a mint garnish is in order next time.

Saturday Aristocrat Pancakes


Here's how it's done:

Saturday Aristocrat Pancakes
-1 c. of your favorite pancake mix
-3/4 c. milk (I use 2%)
-1 tablespoon oil (try olive oil)
-1 egg

topped with
-1 banana, sliced
-1/2 cup strawberries, quartered
-1/2 Bosc* pear, cut in small pieces
-1/8 c. low fat plain yogurt
-Maple syrup
-A sprinkle of granola

*I recommend a Bosc pear since it's denser and crisper than the Williams or D'Anjou. Also, I was nervous about substituting extra virgin olive oil, but it's much healthier than many of the alternatives, and I couldn't taste the difference. I'm making a permanent switch. 

1. Heat a lightly greased skillet over med-low heat or an electric griddle to 375 degrees.
2. Combine ingredients until smooth; do not over-mix. Let stand 1-2 minutes.
3. Pour 1/4 c. of batter for each pancake
4. Flip when pancakes bubble and bottoms are golden brown.

Since you're not cooking fruit inside the pancakes, the quantities are up to you. Nuts can also be added. Lemon curd or whipped cream can be used instead of yogurt, but the latter has more protein and less sugar. Have your favorite coffee nearby.

Carmen Sandiego Tip
I often wonder what other people are doing when they're up at the crack of jack.
Several summers ago, I visited Cadillac Mountain in Maine which, because of its height at around 1,530 feet is the first place light hits the continental U.S. October 7 through March 6. I didn't go to Jordan's Restaurant, but I will next time. It opens at 5 a.m.!

Lexi-Lingo Tip
There's some debate about the pronunciation of Mt. Desert Island on which Cadillac Mountain sits. Champlain called it the "Isle of the Desert Mountains" for its uninhabited, bare mountains. But I've also heard locals emphasize the second syllable "de-ZURT," as in sweets on a weekend morning.

-MDB

Thursday, February 7, 2013

Show Me Your King Cake Baby

The Adventures of King Cake Baby cracks me up!

I wish I'd taken this photo!
-Visit the Adventures of King Cake Baby on Tumblr-

Also, see Zazzle's Sumo Wrestler and King Cake Baby mousepad!

What's that, I heard? 

A 14-foot-tall king cake baby in the desert? 

The video is a bit lackluster but the story's fun: Baby Bon Temps Brulee at Burning Man. If I ever go to such trouble, I promise everyone will get to eat before the fire. Speaking of crazy, I'll attempt to make a crock-pot king cake this coming week. Stay tuned and cross your fingers.

Assuming the recipe pans out, I'll need to insert a king cake baby, but I don't think they're sold anywhere in the Bay Area. Last year, I used a fava bean. I hope to find some edible paint, and at least give my baby a smiley face. 

Want to celebrate Mardi Gras but don't live in New Orleans? Bay Area folks should put their orders in at Arizmendi. 

Though it sounds like their king cake is unconventional, with candied orange peel and pecans, I'll endorse it if it has the purple, green and gold.*

As the work week comes to a close, I wish you justice, faith and power* at the office but most importantly, in the kitchen.

You know, I'm a bit uncomfortable signing off with the standard laissez les bon temps rouler since it's a Cajun construction. The French might instead say 'que la fĂȘte commence or 'que la musique continue...' 

(More or less--let the party begin; let the music go on).

Or, they might simply say bonjour, since as I finish this post it's about 7 a.m. Paris time.

So, bonjour, France et bon nuit, California. 

Happy Mardi Gras block parties back home!