Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Queso Dip (Southwest)


I'm a huge fan of big plunges.  I'm not a dip-your-toe-in kind of girl; I'm more of a 'dive in to the deep end, then realize you can't swim and flail out of control' type of woman.  So, it was no surprise to any of my friends and family that I got married, moved to the Southwest and became a homeowner within a matter of four days.  After tying the knot, my husband and I got into our cars and headed toward our destinies the next day.  Oklahoma has provided a treasure trove of experiences to us--the beautiful scenes of rich, red dirt baking in the sun, the rolling green hills of Northeastern Oklahoma and the sparking blue rivers that flow through our capital city.  Yet nothing has been more transformative than the sight of velvety, light orange queso flecked with tiny bits of red and green peppers.

Every Tex-Mex or Mex-Mex restaurant here starts you off with a big basket of chips and a little cup of something slightly creamy, slightly salty and wholly unnecessary called queso.  Derived from the Spanish word for cheese, queso dip may not really be made of real cheese in some instances.  The worst of queso tastes a lot like pasteurized cheese product melted down with some powdered milk and water.  A better queso actually tastes more like cheese with a slight spicy tangy.  The best queso, most of the times, is no queso at all.  Considering queso and chips are the prelude to an enchilada platter or a grande burrito fiesta meal, it's usually a waste of valuable stomach space.  As a stand alone snack, it's fantastic.  It's reminiscent of the neon yellow nachos you get at movies or roller rinks, but without the radioactive threat.  

So, consider serving queso at your college football party this weekend. (My teams are: the Missouri Tigers, then the USC Trojans, then that nameless team from Illinois with that offensive name and mascot that really should know better, I only support them because they hail from my home state).  My recipe for a reformed queso contains a lot less fat and some extra veggies.  It's nice and simple.  First, melt your favorite part-skim or reduced fat cheese (8 oz) in about half a cup of skim milk and a pat of butter spread (the only frankenfood I'm comfortable with).  To melt cheese in skim milk, start with the milk on low heat and gradually add the cheese until fully melted.  Chop up some jalapenos, red and green peppers, fresh corn cut off the cob, and tomatoes, toss them with a bit of olive oil and roast them in your oven at 450 degrees for about 15 minutes.  Yes, 450 degrees.  Don't be afraid to crank up your oven!  If you have a little bit of time before your kickoff fete, slow roast them for 4-6 hours at 200 degrees.  Throw the roasted bits to the queso and serve with blue corn chips.  Follow up queso and chips with four enchiladas, two soft tacos and a vat of beans and rice, if desired.

Happy Eating!

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Rocky Mountain Oysters and Lamb Fries (Western)


In honor of this week's Democratic National Convention, Regional Food Round Up brings you a quite delicate delicacy from the mountainous West.  Back in my unfoodie days when I was a vegetarian,  I often read books like Diet for a New America, in which food hero  John Robbins discussed how depersonalized food is in the United States.  We don't call it pig; it's pork or ham.  We don't say cow, we say beef or hamburger or steak.  And, we don't say testicles; we call them 'oysters' or 'fries.'  Rocky  Mountain Oysters as they are known in Colorado or lamb fries as they are known in Oklahoma are battered deep fried bull and lamb testicles, respectively.  As someone who believes strongly in the power of the truth and deep fat frying, it's hard to reconcile the reality of the dish with the really good taste of it.  Like all things, from Oreos and Twinkies to testicles, everything can taste good with the right amount of batter and 350 degrees of boiling hot oil.  Lamb fries are battered in a crumbly, spicy mix that creates a nice crisp contrast to the natural chewiness of the 'fry.'  The fries are also served with a spicy, cocktail-like sauce.  The heat of the sauce helps numb the emotions associated with eating such a 'private part' of the lamb.

I enjoyed lamb fries when my in-laws were in town at Cattlemen's Steakhouse in Oklahoma City's Stockyards City.  You can hear your dinner mooing in the cattle yards across from this historic restaurant.  I didn't hear the sad bleating of the lamb that lost part of its reproductive system so I can have an appetizer.  If you can't tell, I'm not entirely proud of leaving vegetarianism behind.  Although I've crossed back into the dark side after a wonderful romp in veggie world, I'm not entirely convinced that meat is 1) healthy, 2) humane or 3) not hormonally destructive.  Yet, as my consciousness says no, my palate screams yes.  

Happy Eating!

Friday, August 22, 2008

Sourdough Bread (West Coast)


The best part of my job, besides the inspiring young minds and molding future leaders, is the reasonable amount of traveling I get to do.  Unlike jobs that involve selling people things they don't need, convincing people they are inadequate and need things they can't afford or advising people to buy things and sell them at excessive markups, when travel I go somewhere to learn something new.  You really can't beat that.  So, when I had the chance to attend the Popular Culture/American Culture Association's annual conference in San Francisco I was thrilled.  I used to live in Southern California and had only been to Oakland once for job interviews, so I only got to sample a bit of the local cuisine.  So, on my second visit to NoCal, I made sure to schedule time to eat locally.  

I was practically doing summersaults when I discovered that the Boudin Sourdough Bakery in the tourist-infested Pier 39/Wharf included a SOURDOUGH HISTORY MUSEUM!  I heart museums more than most things, but to include local food in the mix--I was on cloud nine, which was good because I could pretend that I didn't just pay $14 bucks for a teeny,tiny cosmotini in the hotel bar.  What's the local word for total rip-off?  Luckily, the museum is a wonderful post-cocktail tour of the settling of San Francisco from the railroad days to the Gold Rush to the unionization of sourdough bread bakers.  The glorious present is represented by the bird's eye view of bakers in their most professional whites making cuddly, sourdough bread bears with raisins for eyes.  It's too adorable for words; so adorable, that I could easily forget that the hotel's valet charged $40 a night.  (When you move from major metropolitan areas to a low cost of living place like Oklahoma City, you forget that anything costs money.  You mean I can't buy this 2400-square-foot penthouse for $120,000?  But that's how much it costs in Oklahoma)

Away from the economic downturn and mortgage meltdown and back to the sourdough bread...If you didn't know already, sourdough bread gets its wonderfully tart taste from the pungent starter yeast used to make it.  The starter is mixed in with the regular dough and allowed to rise.  A good starter can be more than one hundred years old and the bacteria in the mixture of fresh flour and water.  The details of it are very scientific and, like I tell my students when I don't know the answer to their questions, "beyond the scope of this lesson."  The point is that it's kinda gross when you think about it and so good when you eat it.  

I was most impressed by the Sourdough Museum's inclusion of noted African-American San Franciscans who helped build the city, as well as the labor history associated with the baker's union.  And after being teased with stories of gold, earthquakes and really old bacteria, you get to taste some bread!  It's a brilliant time.

Sourdough bread may be an acquired taste considering how sweet standard white, or even wheat bread is these days.  Due to our good friend high fructose corn syrup, HiFru for short, we can't get enough of sweet, so our taste buds go through a little cognitive dissonance when we eat something chewy and full of carbs but lacking in sweetness.  Sourdough has become increasingly national as chains like Panera started serving soups in sourdough bowls.  The crispness of the crust allows it to remain leakproof when holding clam chowder, spinach dip, and other treats.  The best way to enjoy sourdough is a plain, ol' slice, in order to appreciate the complexity of the flavor.  The initial bite gives  your mouth a slight kick before the bread itself melts in your mouth.  It's a pretty cool sensation.

Happy Eating! 

Monday, August 18, 2008

Deep Dish Pizza (Chicago and the Upper Midwest)


I just spent a glorious week in Chicago visiting research archives and taking long walks through the city.  The past few weeks in Oklahoma City have been a little warm, to say the least, and Chicago was unseasonably not warm, so I gave my flip flops a workout.  Chicago in the summer is truly a magical thing, and I got to enjoy the best things about the city, including a couple nights at the Palmer House Hilton, outdoor concerts in Millenium Park, battling obnoxious Cubs fan  in "F---n do me" shirts on the El train, and the fantastic pizza.  No trip to Chicago is complete, in my mind, without visiting one of the classic Chicago pizza joints.  I am impartial to Giordano's, but I also enjoy Lou Malnati's, Gino's and the wonderful, whole-in-the-wall pizza places that will deliver til 3:00 a.m.  I remember fondly when my husband and I were dating we would sometimes order a pizza at 1:30 a.m. while playing Trivial Pursuit.  My husband is unusually competitive at board games, so we couldn't interrupt heated games by leaving his studio apartment to pick up food.  So, we could trust our local places to send some creepy guy out to us at ungodly hours and hope we don't end up murdered, and even worse with no pizza.  

So, Chicago style pizza, the real kind and not the kind at places like BJ's or Old Chicago's or other restaurants masquerading as Chicago pizzerias, is best described as pizza made in a cake pan.  The beauty of this pizza is the layering of ingredients and the crust.  Real Chicago-style crust has a nice balanced flavor of flour and cornmeal to create a sweetness that helps offset the saltiness of the toppings and the tomato sauce.  After the crust is set in a well-seasoned cast iron pan, a layer of mozarella cheese is put right on top, helping to create a nice gooey layer in the pizza.  Then the toppings are put on top; the very best is spinach or the Lou Malnati's patented giant single patty of sausage.  I'm not kidding about the sausage.  When you order a sausage from the place, you are making a serious commitment.  Keep that in mind.  The pizza is then topped with an entire layer of tomato sauce with some herbs sprinkled on top to boost the flavor of the sauce.  This pizza is not for the dieter or the impatient.  In order to fully cook, the pizza takes a while longer than the "hot and ready" variety you may pick up at your local pizza chain.  Calm down, enjoy a lovely basket of fried cheese, fried zucchini or fried calamari, or maybe take a quick walk around the block because this is not a low fat dish.  The mixture of flavors is incredible; almost as lovely as beating your boyfriend or girlfriend at a game Trivial Pursuit.

Happy Eating!

Thursday, August 7, 2008

Boston Cooler (Midwest--Really Detroit)


Nothing makes a young woman feel like a more mature one than "having the in-laws for the weekend."  My husband (see: Cincinnati chili) and I have only been married a little bit over a year, and considering our short courtship, family time is essentially get-to-know-you time.  Always surprises.  Well, in the true spirit of my love of regional foods, we tried to introduce our guests to the distinctively Oklahoma foodways that has kept our fair city on the fattest cities in America lists.  While my hatred of dubious statistics keeps me from pondering on the list and rankings for too long, I have to say that I'm proud our mayor, Mick Cornett, has made a commitment to getting our city fit.  

After welcoming my inlaws to the breezy 104-degree day we were having in OKC, my husband and I whisked them to the first of many 'so Oklahoma' places--Pops on Route 66.  Pops is quite the experience, as it boasts an inventory of hundreds of bottles of soda pop.  There are pops from around the globe and across the country.  The Pops shop includes a full-service restaurant and a gas station.  It's the sort of place that may have been on old Route 66 in that its roadside attraction is the world's tallest soda pop bottle and straw.  I hear that they light it up at night.  Check out pics of it at www.pops66.com.  So, as we were all sipping on our pop bottles hoping that it would cool down for the weekend (it did not), my mother-in-law mentioned a favorite 'pop' treat from her childhood in Detroit.  (Incidentally, she was reading Jeffrey Eugenides' Middlesex, a fantastic novel that makes the city of Detroit as compelling a character as the people.  It's a must read...)  One favored memory was of something called a Boston cooler, which she wasn't sure was real or a creation of her father.  Apparently, my husband's grandpa was known to create things in his mind for his own palate and in his own interest and assume it was available, loved and accessible to millions.  So, my mother-in-law truly doubted if anyone outside her household drank Boston coolers.

Well, luckily for her, she has a foodie/blogger/braniac daughter-in-law and after consulting the trusted sources at Wikipedia and Google (just like my students do for their term papers), I discovered that Boston cooler is recognized in the outside world.  A Boston cooler is the delicate mix of Vernor's Ginger Ale and vanilla ice cream.  Created sometime in the 188s0, the Boton cooler was one of many soda fountain drinks invented in the Motor City.  I am a big fan of ice cream floats--Dairy Queen chocolate soft-serve and Coke--but I don't love the aching in my teeth as  I drink it.  The sugar of the ice cream kind of antagonizes the high fructose corn syrup in the soda, like a battle in an 1980s break dancing movie.  It's just not fun.  That is why the Boston cooler is a delightful alternative.  The crispness of ginger ale gives your molars a break, while the creaminess of the vanilla ice cream sweetens it up and provides the coolness.  Of course, if you were to go to Boston and order a Boston Cooler, no one would know what you are talking about.  THAT is the beauty of local foods; they are distinctive to a place and sometimes make no sense outside of the city, state or region.  So, as the weather in Oklahoma cools to a moderate 102 degrees, I will be enjoying a Boston Cooler in hopes that I won't suffer from a heat stroke.  Sorry to leave on such a nasty note...it's too hot in Oklahoma.

Happy Eating!