tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52895662284387227752024-03-13T15:25:15.250-07:00The Regional Food Round Up Blog: Bringing Food, History and Politics TogetherTasty bites of food, politics, history and culture.Regional Food Reporterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08567860383364741247noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5289566228438722775.post-36340273968334441912009-01-01T00:44:00.000-08:002009-01-01T01:13:45.994-08:00Hoppin' John (Southern)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm41u0Gt_AW0IAMHN2FeaBvFE_quZKoRmm7sqdikEqcdnbhM7zDYPIwCgq6FdHzVYGdxl2IriP1Q3QZKbX7b7iTuQ9coFllmY3k_5luc_0Doa8EP5yN6a2JBOASs5JWiIqJCo-d4yug90C/s1600-h/images.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 137px; height: 103px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm41u0Gt_AW0IAMHN2FeaBvFE_quZKoRmm7sqdikEqcdnbhM7zDYPIwCgq6FdHzVYGdxl2IriP1Q3QZKbX7b7iTuQ9coFllmY3k_5luc_0Doa8EP5yN6a2JBOASs5JWiIqJCo-d4yug90C/s320/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286249495271067570" /></a><br />Gentle readers: Happy New Year! For those of you who filed the multiple missing persons reports due to my disappearance from the blog, rest assured that I am okay. Between post-election reeling and a mountain of responsibilities involving that thing that pays me every month, I took a break from blogging. And now, I'm back with a brief list of New Year's Resolutions to usher in 2009 and a great recipe to celebrate another year! <div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">New Year's Resolutions for Our Nation:</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>5. If you are not African-American, resolve to not inform every person of color you see, particularly me, that you voted for Barack Obama, particularly if you live in a red state, particularly Oklahoma. You will not make the point, as Larry David once said, that you are "one of the good ones." </div><div><br /></div><div>4. If you are African-American and belong to the Republican Party, resolve to let your friends figure out "<a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/peter-yarrow/my-response-to-the-mean-s_b_153808.html">Barack, the Magic Negro</a>" all by themselves. DO NOT get involved. You don't have to agree with Colin Powell that your party is a big pile of crazy right now, but don't accuse reasonable people of being too sensitive when they alert you or others to the fact that Republicans are not capable of satire. You exchanged your satire skills for all that money and power.</div><div><br /></div><div>3. If you are governor of a state and you are in huge trouble, resolve to develop a sense of shame. 'Nuff said.</div><div><br /></div><div>2. If you conned, I mean sold, someone a subprime or another terrible and financially crippling mortgage, resolve to write and memorize your plea before God, because you will so need it.</div><div><br /></div><div>1. If you are one of those people who doesn't like dealing with the real world, so you don't keep updated on news and thinks the "Daily Show" is equivalent to reading a newspaper daily, resolve to get a f----g clue, grow up and deal.</div><div><br /></div><div>How can you possibly keep all these resolutions? Well, your best bet is to start with a heaping plate of hoppin' john and greens, a traditional Southern meal that brings good luck throughout the year. Hoppin' john is a savory meal of black, eyed peas (or whatever bean you enjoy) seasoned with bacon, onions and vinegar if you are so inclined. A dish of the Carolina Low Country, hoppin' john is said to have originated from slaves, who ate the meal to start their new year's on an optimistic note. In some traditions, a coin is hidden in the bean dish, and whoever finds it is granted good luck throughout the year. In the same vein, greens are eaten with hoppin' john because greens are the color of money. Considering the economy lately, you may be eating a lot of beans lately, so think of it as more than a sacrifice... it may be your first step out of your worries.</div><div><br /></div><div>Happy New Year! Happy Eating!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Regional Food Reporterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08567860383364741247noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5289566228438722775.post-11543206675112037252008-10-28T23:21:00.000-07:002008-10-29T00:22:13.727-07:00Prickly Pear Jam (Arizona and the Southwest)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl6-F_0RayudgoHlpAOFNncvr6Y7lQP30pT1XcG7CUR5ZPzzk8y68BXtW2gT3uYPwbrmP4ZdHdRV67z62dR_UsBp4IrZqYtTyopMnSD2k6ecgAl2A_9LKxS6M1OKzGbZ8-RqMuBGlOgGsA/s1600-h/images-1.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 130px; height: 130px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl6-F_0RayudgoHlpAOFNncvr6Y7lQP30pT1XcG7CUR5ZPzzk8y68BXtW2gT3uYPwbrmP4ZdHdRV67z62dR_UsBp4IrZqYtTyopMnSD2k6ecgAl2A_9LKxS6M1OKzGbZ8-RqMuBGlOgGsA/s320/images-1.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262465114198661122" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />Where did the time go? <div><br /><div>It feels like it was just yesterday when I sent my husband off to one of his football weekends and I frantically called him while enroute to California to tell him about the Sarah Palin pick for vice-president. We didn't know what to make of all of it. Weeks earlier we had just learned about the Maverick herself from a PBS show about corruption in Alaska. After listening to her first speech, in which she mentioned Hilary Clinton's glass ceiling, her first dude and her mavericky-ness, I thought to myself, "I wonder how this is all going to go down?" </div><div><br /></div><div>Well, with one week left until the election, I think it's safe to say that Governor Palin moved from her cozy home in Wasilla, Alaska to the national stage. And, now as the campaign is huffing and puffing toward the end, Palin has made another move to right under the Straight Talk Express bus. Oh I guess I should mention the food thing here, so I can go on about how Sarah Palin went from the Juliet to the Lady McBeth to the Ophelia of this campaign? When my husband returned from the football game (after being deprived of constant cable news), he brought me a lovely souvenir from John McCain's adopted state of Arizona--a jar of prickly pear jam. Hmm...what's the link between John McCain and a fruit that resides in the desert, is extremely thorny and is so desperate it accuses other fruit of outrageous things (oh, wait, I guess the last one doesn't apply to the fruit). Let's just say that prickly pear jam best represents both McCain and Palin--thorniness, a slightly cloying sweetness, and usually the jars of jam come in bad packaging reminiscent of an earlier time. But, unlike the jam which goes well with cream cheese and crackers, the McCain-Palin ticket is hard to swallow. </div><div><br /></div><div>The past few weeks of the public vetting of Sarah Palin has not been particularly yummy either. Allow me to elaborate:</div><div><br /></div><div>1) Palin, like many in our current political moment, mistook sarcasm for political analysis. They are not the same. No matter how much Colbert Report or Daily Show you watch, you cannot think that being clever or even funny means you are particularly smart. Palin's address to the RNC embodied the worst in political discourse--smug, politically immature and mocking in its tone. Yes, the VP is the attack dog, but she was more like a pitbull, not one of Michael Vick's either, but an annoying one in Valentino.</div><div><br /></div><div>2) Palin should have NEVER been hung out to dry on the clothing thing. It's absolutely ridiculous. Readers, a quick tutorial on what is sexist and what is not; please listen Elizabeth Hasselback. It's not sexist to expose the astronomical cost of dressing her and her family. It is sexist to portray a woman candidate as if she is Lucy Ricardo pissing off Ricky because she spent too much money at the local department store. It is not sexist to criticize her judgment or complicity in the makeover. It is sexist to blame the campaign's incompetence on Sarah Palin because she is one of many poor strategic decisions. It is not sexist to point out Palin's lack of experience, lack of knowledge on the details of the position she is working tooth and nail for, and her desire to be the newest Republican sex symbol. It is sexist for the McCain campaign to expect women who supported Hilary Clinton to sign up for her COMPLETE AND TOTAL OPPOSITE because they are both women. It is a sexist to call Palin a diva because she is trying to salvage her political image. It is not sexist to call her a whack job.</div><div><br /></div><div>3) History will ultimately judge McCain's decision to entrust the future of his campaign to someone he barely knew. Palin saw an opportunity and seized upon it because she, like McCain, have so little faith in the American public that they felt that simple manipulation, red-baiting and wild accusations could help seal the deal for the White House. Instead their fear mongering, talking down to the working class and inability to maintain the loyalties of their parties and respective staffs, has helped seal their fate and ensure they will be punchlines in the annals of electoral history. I hope it was all worth it.</div><div><br /></div><div>So folks, if you are ever in Arizona pick up a jar of prickly pear jam and raise a jar to what America should be about: reasoned responses to crisis, respect for others and the ability to change the nation.</div></div>Regional Food Reporterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08567860383364741247noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5289566228438722775.post-12742023510575218522008-10-21T01:57:00.000-07:002008-10-21T09:16:11.703-07:00Sopapillas (New Mexico)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0XKAjaOU-WgKUralTMoQSCvuR8STHPrWU32_Px0NU4SOwUPvECT75jcoU7MfMM_k-ZjAJbv4cJKeAGpxpS34Hcz-fNTal0s5viyY5k_fLW-xTZcGMkGaZ_faFFrh7Ua8rHc2gG_Uybs-g/s1600-h/images-2.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0XKAjaOU-WgKUralTMoQSCvuR8STHPrWU32_Px0NU4SOwUPvECT75jcoU7MfMM_k-ZjAJbv4cJKeAGpxpS34Hcz-fNTal0s5viyY5k_fLW-xTZcGMkGaZ_faFFrh7Ua8rHc2gG_Uybs-g/s320/images-2.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259534266804109010" /></a><br />After recovering from the exhaustion of my Ireland trip, I had to harness the power of positive thinking to gear up for my next trip two weeks later. My outlook changed when I realized that I would get to sample some great regional foods when I traveled to Albuquerque, New Mexcio for work. Although I planned on taking advantage of a series of receptions hosted by colleges and academic centers, my friends persuaded me to go to actual restaurants. I sampled favorites like green and red chile enchiladas, fresh tortilla chips and guacamole, quesadillas and frijoles.<div><br /></div><div>My absolute favorite item on my New Mexican tour was the complementary basket of sopapillas and the squeeze bottle of honey that accompanied it. Prior to my first trip to Albuquerque, (when I traveled with my then-boyfriend and now-husband from Chicago to Los Angeles after knowing each other a total of six weeks; I was lucky that it all ended in love and marriage and not a Lifetime Movie entitled "Highway to Death: The Regional Food Reporter Story," starring <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Markie_Post">Markie Post</a> as yours truly), I had only heard of sopapillas from one of my favorite <a href="http://www.judyblume.com/books/ya/tiger.php">Judy Blume books, </a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.judyblume.com/books/ya/tiger.php">Tiger Eyes</a>. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div>Sopapillas have the consistency of fry bread (see Indian Tacos) and the puffiness of Indian naaan. The doughy treat itself is not sweet, but with the a touch of honey, it's transformed into a perfect sweet ending to any meal. In Tex Mex restaurants, they often come as part of your meal and they can be a nice way to mediate the carb withdrawal felt after finishing an entire basket of chips and a warmer of tortillas. Sometimes, restaurants will dust the sopapilla with powdered sugar and cinnamon to evoke a funnel cake feel, but the honey is what really makes it taste like pure heaven. You can also find sopapillas filled with beef, pork or beans in the Southwest.</div><div><br /></div><div>Happy Eating!</div></div>Regional Food Reporterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08567860383364741247noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5289566228438722775.post-53473434528545758462008-10-20T20:39:00.000-07:002008-10-21T09:35:29.448-07:00Special Report: Sticky Toffee Pudding (U.K.)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnLYIw7EdWzUeFipvfI4SshH18XHDGdUzLHKZVT2oERwHJRfxVIXInY3V7QvGAPOJYi7ggNtgIfuscKPwdAOAUTDXFFAqEzSw4uasSugd3qg0p50g6aF47BDSpXwQHbdsUhgHSRr0ENZ8S/s1600-h/images-1.jpeg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnLYIw7EdWzUeFipvfI4SshH18XHDGdUzLHKZVT2oERwHJRfxVIXInY3V7QvGAPOJYi7ggNtgIfuscKPwdAOAUTDXFFAqEzSw4uasSugd3qg0p50g6aF47BDSpXwQHbdsUhgHSRr0ENZ8S/s320/images-1.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259526852134254562" border="0" /></a><br />While I was away on my European tour, I made an effort to eat as many local or national specialties I could get my paws on. It was quite a challenge, but I sacrificed my fiber intake and HDL levels to report back on the best of Ireland. I ate scones, drank Guinness, paired chicken curry with chips, scarfed down the plate piled high with boiled potatoes and nearly choked on shepherd's pie. I was a real trooper. The best of all these culinary opportunities was the ending to a risotto-steak-lots of red wine-chips meal. I skipped past the tiramisu and cheesecake and ordered a lovely sticky toffee pudding. I had only heard of the dessert from the expletive-loving television chef <a href="http://www.gordonramsay.com/">Gordon Ramsay</a>. And I didn't f---g regret it. <div><br /></div><div>Sticky toffee pudding is a simple dessert of sponge cake made with finely chopped dates drenched in a caramel-colored toffee sauce. With each sweet spoonful, I thought about all the sticky situations the world's leaders find themselves. Okay, I didn't really think about that, but I finally have a dish that yields an easy passage into politics talk. Just let me have this one. </div><div><br /></div><div>If only a nice dish of dessert could fix awkward moments like if you were running for Vice President of the United States and y<a href="http://ap.google.com/article/ALeqM5h21ZbzgPbTVRftcJPT5vkHkonY5QD93PSKR80">ou start mistaking people shouting your name for people protesting against your crazed, reactionary political rhetoric</a>, but then you find out that they were just asking you to speak louder. Or maybe when you are losing a presidential election and start r<a href="http://blogs.abcnews.com/politicalradar/2008/10/gop-senator-sla.html">esorting to the underhanded tactic of robocalling</a>, even though that same method was used against you in a racist ploy to hamper your chances of winning the Republican presidential nomination, wouldn't some sticky toffee pudding be nice? Or perhaps, you could keep some sticky toffee pudding handy in your car if you are <a href="http://blogs.abcnews.com/politicalpunch/2008/10/limbaugh-implie.html">an asshead radio show host who has so little regard for a general who exemplifies the values you purport to defend, that you suggest that his sophisticated and thoughtful explanation of his support of a political candidate is only about race, as if your entire career was not only based upon race, but also racism and racial hatred</a>; wouldn't a pudding be more beneficial than prescription medications?</div><div><br /></div><div>See folks, sticky toffee pudding is as reliable as <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/10/21/opinion/21herbert.html?em">the pro-Americans in the pro-America part of America</a>. Oh wait, sticky toffee pudding is not American, so can this dessert help pro-Americans be pro-Americanish while doing pro-America activities? Don't fret dear reader, I have a version of this recipe that will fulfill your desire to be pro-American, and it will save your teeth from a serious sugar soak. Besides, you probably need to save on visits to the dentist. For a Freedom version of sticky toffee pudding, may I suggest using a basic angel food cake, then preparing a sauce of sugar-free pancake syrup, chopped walnuts, and diced apples. Heat the sauce ingredients over medium heat until the syrup thickens. Pour over angel food cake and let sit to allow cake to absorb the syrup. Serve warm with chopped walnuts. Then, go out and get into even stickier situations.</div><div><br /></div><div>Happy Eating!</div>Regional Food Reporterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08567860383364741247noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5289566228438722775.post-34168326453335315842008-10-15T11:57:00.000-07:002008-10-21T09:33:48.736-07:00Special Report: English Tea Sandwiches (U.K.)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1opKhclB9-mdGgnKJAnii8Dz8vAPt6bsitNkvvu7x4u3YadA1gvQOYSMTPyu3pObkqNoRLYU1TXkvZjgP2RotU-rJJdVJ00TJxiAwQ6d9Oq28HgtsNZETvzxsqctC2jY-jSIJZRl6224S/s1600-h/images.jpeg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1opKhclB9-mdGgnKJAnii8Dz8vAPt6bsitNkvvu7x4u3YadA1gvQOYSMTPyu3pObkqNoRLYU1TXkvZjgP2RotU-rJJdVJ00TJxiAwQ6d9Oq28HgtsNZETvzxsqctC2jY-jSIJZRl6224S/s320/images.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259496732950478242" border="0" /></a><br />Folks, I've been out of commission for a little while, and I apologize for leaving you without that witty and slightly caustic perspective you have come to rely upon in these dizzying times. My trip to Europe was so overwhelming, it took me a while to find the food that best exemplified my experiences as a member of the <a href="http://tn2020.net/">TN2020</a> experience. The British Council's one-week summit brought together an assortment of public servants, politicians-in-training, intellectuals, artists and activists to discuss the historic, yet currently strained relationship between North America and Western Europe. Against the backdrop of the verdant cities, hills and mountains of Ireland, I spent a week asking some critical questions about what it means to be an American in the era of American imperialism. So, where does tea time fit in to all of this? Well, while I was in the Emerald Isle, we were often treated to fabulous lunches of English tea sandwiches. They were so neatly arranged on platters; each sandwich had the crusts removed, which allowed me a better view of the brightly colored and flecked fillings and layers. The challenge and the beauty of these sandwiches is that you may discover you love a new flavor combination your palate has never experienced (like yummy <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coronation_chicken">coronation chicken</a>) and a few items that you wish you never encountered (is that beef tongue or shrimp in mayo?). The lovely assortment of sandwiches was not unlike the lessons learned while across the pond. So, allow me to share in a segment I like to call, "Good Sandwiches" and "Sandwiches that Make me Want to Vomit."<div><br /></div><div>1) Good Sandwich: One of the highlights of the summit was the opportunity to discuss issues such as leadership and voting on BBC's fabulous <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/worldhaveyoursay/">"World Have Your Say"</a> radio show. The voting segment involved a debate on whether voting should be made mandatory. I entered the debate on the "what a ridiculous idea" side of the discussion. I raised the issues of cost, general ineffectiveness, the creation of a massive bureaucracy and the sacred nature of the vote considering the work of the Civil Rights martyrs (see Mississippi Mud Pie) as all reasons to why voting or not voting is an important right to be preserved and not trampled upon in order to give the appearance of democracy in action. I was told by a peer from a Western European nation which will not be named, (but I will say this place is known for its fine wines, love of Jerry Lewis and penchant for exploiting the binding powers of butter), "You can't make Americans <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">do </span>anything." Damn, right. U-S-A. Drill, baby drill. Just kidding on that last one, I'm not an idiot.</div><div><br /></div><div>2) Bad Sandwich: Not unlike that gelatinous beef tongue treat I accidently tasted, there were some moments of unease for me as I engaged in political discussions with my fellow conference folks. I was expecting some critical perspectives on Americans; I am a part of the liberal elite, so I share some of my European pals concerns about U.S. imperialism, the Bush administrations erosion of transatlantic cooperation and the number of Eddie Murphy 'family movies.' Yet, I was a bit surprised by some of my fellow Americans' distaste for the values I hold dear. A few conversations with some of my more conservative pals revealed that some of the young blood of the right are painfully in love with the past. Due to my support for an unnamed candidate for president (hint the guy who doesn't need to suppress his rage in order to get through a debate), I was called a communist, a socialist, and un-American. I was admonished for suggesting that race matters in America, and that the aforementioned candidate's often erratic and problematic message may have to do with race in America. (Gasp!) Even better, were young conservatives suggesting that Hilary Clinton was a victim of sexism and that Sarah Palin is a feminist hero, meanwhile refusing to take seriously the problems of gender inequality, homophobia and the subjugation of women of color in foreign wars and domestic affairs. What bothered me the most of this attitude toward Obama supporters or liberals in general, is that my peers are steeped in an anti-intellectual, Cold War era sensibility that should serve as a cautionary tale, not a political strategy for people of my generation. </div><div><br /></div><div>3) Good Sandwich: One evening while experiencing a beautiful retreat in the Wicklow Mountains, some of the participants decided to cross our cultural divides by staging an experiment in Transatlantic Dating. Each participant represented their homeland by pretending to be on a first date. Some of my colleagues were in love instantly, others relied heavily on dirty jokes and references to football teams to guide them toward true love and others determined that love is indeed a battlefield and deployed the aloofness that only a person who has never been to therapy could enjoy. And at the end of the day, I discovered that as an American, I believe that the values of the marketplace, the conventions of the workplace and the sexual standards of MTV's "The Real World" cast are great models upon which to set my love and dating priorities. And, I'm proud to be an American. U-S-A. Drill, baby drill. Nope, still stupid.</div><div><br /></div><div>4) Bad Sandwich: Like the stomach-churning cheddar chutney tea sandwich I gagged on, financial crisis 'jokes' are not appetizing. Whilst attending a 'political cabaret' 'performance' by a 'political comedian' who considers himself 'talented,' 'amusing' and 'educated,' I was treated to an onslaught of anti-American jokes. While I'm willing to skewer our leaders and institutions like a chicken kebab, I truly believe some thing's aren't amusing; they are just plain sad. Whether you are pro-bailout or not, the realities of the market meltdown is now the business of all Americans. For people my age who have many years ahead of them, we can wait this out, and we can learn a valuable lesson about living on borrowed money and in a financed world. For working-class older folks who need to retire soon, life just got a little more complicated. I heard one man say after the bailout passed that he wanted to see people "pay for their mistakes." By people he meant the people who are facing foreclosure, possibly headed toward homelessness, moving their children away from friends and schools, taking extra jobs to make ends meet, having their voter rights challenged and hoping they can crash on their kid's sofa until the market comes back up again. Yeah, those people are not paying anything for the nationalization of previously private industries. If you stand quietly, you can hear the sound of the government drilling all those people a new one.</div><div><br /></div><div>So dear readers in these tough economic times, save a few bucks with some of these delightful tea sandwiches with an American twist. How about peanut butter and apple with honey on a nice wheat bread? Or use leftover stew meat and simmer in your crock pot with barbeque sauce and serve between some split Jiffy mix cornbread, with a nice pickle slice sandwiched in there? May I suggest a festive lunch of tomato slices and some cream cheese and basil? Then, invite Joe Six Pack, <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/10/20/opinion/20krugman.html?em">Joe the (Lying) Plumber</a> and Joe who Just Lost his Job over and learn how truly wonderful it feels to 'spread the wealth' of a nice meal with someone who needs it. Try it and see if you turn into a socialist afterward.</div><div><br /></div><div>Happy Eating!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Regional Food Reporterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08567860383364741247noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5289566228438722775.post-31737089585752090472008-09-30T18:53:00.000-07:002008-09-29T20:38:26.390-07:00Special Report: Irish Breakfast (Ireland)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmPd3BKunpOjBZvfFkh5vWI7TlID9YrbV0lyZs93STcgQKPSyHvr0VEkTlSL6bZsvAr8brTg2AlwuerplyYZzbURLB09DTOP_CS9nyO8hI-oH4ULGdHazLlL4NWUCuOnyp8Y3RFD_2I_s-/s1600-h/images.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmPd3BKunpOjBZvfFkh5vWI7TlID9YrbV0lyZs93STcgQKPSyHvr0VEkTlSL6bZsvAr8brTg2AlwuerplyYZzbURLB09DTOP_CS9nyO8hI-oH4ULGdHazLlL4NWUCuOnyp8Y3RFD_2I_s-/s320/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251635220381969826" /></a><br />Considering I hail from an Egg McMuffin kind of world, it's quite refreshing to spend some time in Ireland, where breakfast is a serious affair. Continental breakfast at most U.S. hotels involve a muffin or a pack of Donettes and cup of coffee. Irish breakfast, by contrast, is a celebration of food groups, cuisines and a formidable challenge to the digestive system. A traditional Irish breakfast comprises rashers (or bacon), sausages (I tried a pork and leek version) fried eggs, puddings (white and black blood sausages), toast, potato cakes, baked beans, fried tomatoes and sauted mushrooms. And breads and pastries. Yes, all for breakfast...<div><br /></div><div>My mom always advised that you start the day with brain food. We ate oatmeal not blood sausages, but my mom was so right. Breakfast isn't just about nourishing the mind either, it's also about nourishing communities. When the <a href="http://www.blackpanther.org/">Black Panther Party for Self Defense</a> formed in 1966, its youth leadership organized to protect their neighborhoods from police brutality. This vision grew into a wide array of programs ranging from education to health care. One of the Party's most visible programs was the Free Breakfast for School Children program, one of many 'survival programs,' that helped sustain the Party's many goals. Started in August of 1969 at Oakland's St. Augustine's Church, the breakfast program was the realization of a new vision for social programs that uplifted the dignity of its service recipients. At the breakfast programs, kids did not have to be embarrassed, families did not have to hide from prying social workers and youth learned that feeding your neighbor meant empowering your neighborhood. That is why police raids on Party food pantries, among other acts of violence, were particularly devastating to the organization's morale. The Party's history and its members is not a perfect story; yet, the successes and the programs of the movement can help us think creatively about our meals and how they can transform our lives. So, this weekend, how about you go to your local church, neighborhood association or group of friends and talk about ways to collect foods for families that are hurting during this financial crisis. Become inspired by the <a href="http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/amex/eyesontheprize/about/pt_206.html">movements</a> that shaped our nation, learn about the young, Party martyrs <a href="http://movies.nytimes.com/movie/155135/The-Murder-of-Fred-Hampton/overview">Fred Hampton and Mark Clark</a>. Learn from <a href="http://www.wmm.com/filmCatalog/pages/c287.shtml">the Party's failures to stand up for the freedom and dignity of women and abolish gender discrimination within its ranks.</a> Reflect on the words of former Party member Marion Stamps: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; ">"It is our responsibility to see to it that our people have a decent place to live, decent food to eat, and quality health care."</span></div><div><br /></div><div>Happy (communal) eating!</div>Regional Food Reporterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08567860383364741247noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5289566228438722775.post-60288990221508908962008-09-29T14:48:00.000-07:002008-09-29T19:52:47.982-07:00Special Report: Fish and Chips (U.K.)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk_bigWmilgCPguF4tuCdfeRY9lH4vbg9M1Mp616Gu3QYCHBZwuNN_rDemyGsYIr_4ABVMXbXSpvI5zJ_dOibctUhfRpLKkfVJrGWIb8QY_5i7gRBdsFwt09AG6F0fheCOo2ApHFRiNWcd/s1600-h/images-1.jpeg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk_bigWmilgCPguF4tuCdfeRY9lH4vbg9M1Mp616Gu3QYCHBZwuNN_rDemyGsYIr_4ABVMXbXSpvI5zJ_dOibctUhfRpLKkfVJrGWIb8QY_5i7gRBdsFwt09AG6F0fheCOo2ApHFRiNWcd/s320/images-1.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251616981775092370" /></a><div style="text-align: left;">Belfast, Northern Ireland--I'm finally here. After six hours of flying, several</div><div style="text-align: left;">conversations involving me pretending to understand an Irish accent, a "Monk" episode and several meals in teeny, tiny airline trays, I landed safely in the capital city of Northern Ireland. I do love my American foods, but I decided to bring my dear readers with me in my journey as a <a href="http://tn2020.net/">TN2020</a> participant and first-time visitor to Northern Ireland. <br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Regional and local foods are important, whether you are in Bangor, Maine or Bangkok, Thailand. I implore you to resist the international Pizza Huts, Chilis, and Dunkin Donuts outlets, and eat locally as much as possible when you travel. One of the first things I did when I got to Belfast was head to a local pub for some golden fish and chips. Fish and chips is the U.K.'s most popular dish comprising a lightly battered piece of haddock or cod, served with what we know as steak french fries in the states. Similar to catfish in the U.S., the subtle flavor of the fish is seasoned by the what it's battered and what you put on it. So your flavor sources come from the beer and salt in the batter and the vinegar. Proper fish and chips also includes peas or mashed peas and a simple salad. </div><div><br /></div><div>As I plunged the side of my fork into my crisp piece of fish, I breathed in the sights and smells of the pub, and I sighed to myself. I was wondering if people were looking at me, considering I was the only brown face in the room. I can't assume I know what people think when they see me here, but I can wonder if the history books in Ireland have done a better job than the ones in the U.S. in celebrating the complicated history of African-Americans and the Emerald Isle. Ireland, particularly cities Dublin and Belfast, has had a tremendous impact on African-American life and culture during the most important times in U.S. political and cultural history. From the anti-slavery movement of the 19th century to the Harlem Renaissance of the 1920s, Ireland has been a source of inspiration and support for African-Americans. </div><div><br /></div><div>When on a black taxi tour of Belfast, I was thrilled to see a mural in commemoration of abolitionist-feminist Frederick Douglass on a wall of political images in the city. Douglass spent two years in the United Kingdom beginning in 1845 to plead the cause of abolition to Brits. Douglass arrived as the Potato Famine was ravishing Irish livelihood and he was in a unique position to truly empathize with the small farmers and families uncertain about securing their most basic needs under an oppressive regime. His two-year stint in Europe helped him secure the monies for his freedom, and Ireland remained deep in his heart for decades to come. As a lover of freedom, he supported Irish Home Rule, and visited the place where he said he was treated not "as a color, but as man," again in 1886. </div><div><br /></div><div>The mural reminds the Irish, and visitors that Douglass was:<br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"Inspired by two Irishmen to escape from slavery Frederick Douglass came to Ireland during the famine. Henceforth he championed the abolition of slavery, women's rights and Irish freedom." <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"></span></span></div><div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqEBspNEuMRLZQrzTYjLra3I57JNagUbf6_6lZpOPE7QCGif04_q_YplNjwc5KxiN6gDK64XPFa-J57C53QlEdY6x06SaO6a0So3mruVMg3TQn4DJVvxaQykBbkqe8P6mVXIYy4dh2vGkN/s320/180px-Frederick_Douglass_mural,_Belfast.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251616714554081506" /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">The mural also includes a message from Douglass to the Irish<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; ">:</span> </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; ">" Perhaps no class has carried prejudice against colour to a point more dangerous than have the Irish and yet no people have been more relentlessly oppressed on account of race and religion." </span></span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Later generations of African-American leaders would continue to see the Irish struggle as paralleling Black life in America. On the precipice of constructing a 'New Negro' movement in the U.S., philosopher and scholar Alain Locke declared, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; ">"In Harlem, Negro life is seizing upon its first chances for group expression and self-determination. That is why our comparison is taken with those nascent centers of folk-expression and self-determination which are playing a creative part in the world today. Without pretense to their political significance, Harlem has the same role to play for the New Negro as Dublin has had for the New Ireland..." <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "></span></span></span></span></div><div><br /></div><div>To learn more about Black America's green roots, for all the good and bad, check out Ken Burns' <a href="http://www.pbs.org/wnet/newyork/">New York</a>, enjoy some <a href="http://www.pbs.org/newshour/forum/february98/harlem_2-20.html">Harlem Renaissance writings and art</a>, learn about <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/09/29/us/29florida.html?_r=1&oref=slogin">Zora Neale Hurston's roots in Eatonville, Florida</a> and raise a pint of Guinness to the spirit of our struggles and our common bonds. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; ">Now that is food for thought...</span></span></span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; ">Happy Eating!</span></span></span></span></div>Regional Food Reporterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08567860383364741247noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5289566228438722775.post-31665415680790056992008-09-28T19:15:00.000-07:002008-09-28T19:37:07.823-07:00Disco Fries (New Jersey)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB8t8RbDPpuNdtkKt33qHZF7qC2X1itNZQ1ns81vZYCaDRHTt9n9_piaRyn-E9yTyJFmiHKaPpNDvTMuWRPw67RClRVIkJomf1UPVAFHF9JkdQnHS2hEhijl2WOmkYDs7j035OFa0Fm82f/s1600-h/images.jpeg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB8t8RbDPpuNdtkKt33qHZF7qC2X1itNZQ1ns81vZYCaDRHTt9n9_piaRyn-E9yTyJFmiHKaPpNDvTMuWRPw67RClRVIkJomf1UPVAFHF9JkdQnHS2hEhijl2WOmkYDs7j035OFa0Fm82f/s320/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251263607423503682" /></a>New Jersey often gets a bad rap. Whether it be in popular culture or from those too-cool-for-school New Yorkers, New Jersey can be made to feel like it can't match up. So, as I sat in the Newark-Liberty Airport and wait for a six-hour flight to Belfast, I decided to learn more about what keeps Jerseyites happy and well-fed. And I discovered a throughly decadent treat called Disco Fries! <div><br /></div><div>Based on the French/Canadian treat <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">poutine, </span>disco fries are mountain of flavors and culinary perspectives. First, you start with a plate of thick-cut or steak french fries (preferably fried using a two-step method of frying potatoes in 300 degree oil until tender, removing them from the oil to drain, then frying them a second time until golden brown). After the fries have been properly drained on kitchen towels (NOT paper towels) and salted, you cover them in a rich brown gravy. I like the less evil version of brown gravy made from a bit of reduced fat onion soup, some fake butter, skim milk, mushrooms and flour to thicken. Trust me, you don't want to put meat drippings on french fries. You won't forgive yourself, and that way you can share with your vegetarian friends. Then, top it all off with some mozzarella cheese. Throw that in the oven for a few minutes, and voila. You can have a great snack/meal/heart attack without having to take the turnpike. Oh boy, my flight is boarding...</div><div><br /></div><div>Who said disco is dead?</div><div><br /></div><div>Happy Eating!</div>Regional Food Reporterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08567860383364741247noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5289566228438722775.post-56679607664259923462008-09-28T17:47:00.000-07:002008-09-28T19:09:49.739-07:00German Chocolate Cake (Southern)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxUANo1pZSpB0VlBIEdO83NZfYn3b50TFrgZKtnIrpBOY6dR6aZcKFbmVsR21IopGoW6l4Wekn1_fho9cc9_de0kvkh4s3PnqSI0RZpnnSAWEU4Nhv5FaFYLG-4Rl7Bh5RlmtUmBmlD13g/s1600-h/images.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxUANo1pZSpB0VlBIEdO83NZfYn3b50TFrgZKtnIrpBOY6dR6aZcKFbmVsR21IopGoW6l4Wekn1_fho9cc9_de0kvkh4s3PnqSI0RZpnnSAWEU4Nhv5FaFYLG-4Rl7Bh5RlmtUmBmlD13g/s320/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251259707647206674" /></a><br />On my way to Belfast, I got increasingly more excited about the prospect of meeting so many people from around the globe. As a food lover, I was also looking forward to sampling local dishes that reflect the history and pride of Ireland. But, before I could do any of these things, I had to get through the Houston-Bush Airport!<div><br /></div><div>Texas has a rich culinary history and a tremendous present considering the concentration of barbecue joints, steak houses and coffee shops in cities such as Dallas, Houston and Austin. Unfortunately, the Lone Star state has also given birth to oodles of chain restaurants, which gave Americans a strange assortment of food chunks--riblets, chicken fingers and onion blossoms--and variations of brownie sundaes. Although the brownie sundae can be a suitable way to end a meal of potato skins and taquitos, Texas has a much more interesting dessert.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm glad I learned that German Chocolate Cake is actually a Texan, not a Bavarian, treat before I offended some of the German participants of my Belfast conference by asking them if they loved it as much as I do. Some lore says that a German chocolate cake recipe first appeared in 1957, when a Dallas woman sent in a recipe for German's chocolate cake to a newspaper. This may be untrue considering Kraft's German's Chocolate was a brand of chocolate that packaged bars of baking chocolate beginning in the 1850s. Also, the cake's chocolate buttermilk base has a longer history. That's a history mystery I would love to solve, but in the meantime I implore you to try it next time you are in a bakery. The multi-layer cake features a wonderful pecan, coconut filling and frosting made from a simple syrup, borderline caramel base. </div><div><br /></div><div>Alright, it's time to get on a plane to Newark, New Jersey!</div><div><br /></div><div>Happy Eating!</div>Regional Food Reporterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08567860383364741247noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5289566228438722775.post-6833103655490472672008-09-26T09:53:00.000-07:002008-09-28T16:05:17.420-07:00Chicken Fried Steak (South, Southwest)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUaZz_1Smp20zUi0jTGTpEBAzPlRActkB9pWx5OYq5KT68fAFSoLpDhWNRzSdxpUI50jolhSnFzl1MyDBx3tX7yD0WlLo-6wEmjITezQeqCKjgB2YfznAQbPSzhdHk-iQw0fmIsXIqR6j6/s1600-h/images.jpeg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUaZz_1Smp20zUi0jTGTpEBAzPlRActkB9pWx5OYq5KT68fAFSoLpDhWNRzSdxpUI50jolhSnFzl1MyDBx3tX7yD0WlLo-6wEmjITezQeqCKjgB2YfznAQbPSzhdHk-iQw0fmIsXIqR6j6/s320/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250492937468420098" /></a><br />When I was selected to attend the <a href="http://www.britishcouncil.org/usa-networking-tn2020.htm">Transatlantic Network 2020</a>, aka (TN2020) an international summit to discuss the relationship between North American and our friends in Western Europe, I was thrilled about the prospect of meeting other young professionals who care about the direction of their respective nations as much as I care about my country. Considering the<a href="http://www.cnn.com/2008/POLITICS/09/26/debate.mississippi/index.html"> bizarre twists and turns</a> of this election season, now is the best time for us to come together for a little global family therapy. So, I'm super excited to head off to Belfast today and take part of what will be a lively and thoughtful conversation.<div><br /></div><div>What I'm not looking forward to is the multiple flights I am embarking on today. Surprisingly, there are no direct flights from Oklahoma City to Belfast, so I decided to devote the next few blog posts to the regions where I will fly through on my way to Europe. Leg 1: Oklahoma City to Houston. Leg 2: Houston to Newark. Leg 3: Newark to Belfast. All full flights, and a few babys here and there.</div><div><br /></div><div>In honor of my new home Oklahoma City, may I share the sheer beauty and decadence of a chicken fried steak, which is one of nearly a dozen items which comprise Oklahoma's official state meal. Chicken fried steak's origins most likely lie with German immigrants who brought recipes for weiner schnitzel to their new home in the 19th century. Traditional weiner shcnitzel features a lean veal cutlet, lightly breaded and fried until golden brown. Due to the relative thriftiness of steak in the Southwest, chicken-fried steak probably became the food of choice of the immigrants who longed for the taste of home.</div><div><br /></div><div>Chicken fried steak is so ubiquitous in Oklahoma, that fast food restaurants like the local favorite Braum's, del Rancho, and Coit's all offer chicken fried steak sandwiches alongside burgers and fries. In order to really get a good chicken-friend steak going you have to beat the hell out of a lean slice of steak. After the steak is beaten within an inch of its life, it's dredged in some egg-milk wash and bread crumbs, then fried. If you want to reduce the heart attack factor on this one, you can use lean cuts, batter them in more crumbs than egg, and place them on a rack to bake them until crunchy. If you want to make something crispy in the oven, your best bet is to cook it on an oven safe rack sprayed with some olive oil. It helps keeping your food from sticking to the pans and losing the breading.</div><div><br /></div><div>Alright folks, that's all I have for you now. Next stop: Houston. Belfast or bust.</div><div><br /></div><div>Happy Eating!</div><div><br /></div>Regional Food Reporterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08567860383364741247noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5289566228438722775.post-82610832895308882902008-09-25T09:38:00.001-07:002008-09-25T12:20:45.531-07:00Mississippi Mud Pie (Southern, Mississippi of course)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Op_uyOVLT9pw7P9uRHJXndHF0oZEgsASe-fb-cHEPifWTcaUlWbwMc1oetKW1MrQGdtK9w0NiXTdPDMvdYkqMqRYZOsiIyaPzOtOWWn3rYXsrcSpHSZkooBA9L6Tvg3cm7Ay5doVO0LK/s1600-h/images-1.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Op_uyOVLT9pw7P9uRHJXndHF0oZEgsASe-fb-cHEPifWTcaUlWbwMc1oetKW1MrQGdtK9w0NiXTdPDMvdYkqMqRYZOsiIyaPzOtOWWn3rYXsrcSpHSZkooBA9L6Tvg3cm7Ay5doVO0LK/s320/images-1.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250041071490599314" /></a><br />Our nation could sure use something sweet? A nice gooey, chocolate based respite from the confusing week on Wall Street and the campaign trail. So, why not cook up a nice dessert this weekend while enjoying the presidential debate, which is supposed to take place on the campus of the <a href="http://www.olemiss.edu/">University of Mississippi.</a> <a href="http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2008/09/24/eveningnews/main4476173.shtml">Oh wait, one of the candidate's is trying to stall the conversation with his opponent in order for his campaign to buy more time for his woefully unprepared running mate</a>! <a href="http://politicalticker.blogs.cnn.com/2008/09/24/mccain-camp-to-propose-postponing-vp-debate/">That's righ</a>t, maybe we won't be able to watch on Friday, and the University of Mississippi will just eat the $5.5 million and two years of planning they spent on the event. No big deal. The debates are not the only reason to think about Mississippi this weekend. And don't let the complete incompetence and selfishness of one campaign stop you from enjoying a nice slice of Mississippi mud pie. This decadent pie is a wonderful way of commemorating the role Mississippi history has played in securing our rights to vote. <div><br /></div><div>Mississippi was a battleground for major, Civil Rights movement activity, from the explosive <a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/09/19/AR2008091902807.html">integration of the University of Mississippi</a> by James Meredith to the inspirational actions of voters' rights workers during the 1964 <a href="http://americanradioworks.publicradio.org/features/oh_freedom/">Freedom Summer</a>. While many Americans are praising Barack Obama's historic bid for the White House, they may not know of the bravery of <a href="http://americanradioworks.publicradio.org/features/sayitplain/flhamer.html">Fannie Lou Hamer</a> and the Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party, who risked life, limb and livelihood in order to do secure something that has become mundane for most Americans--voting. Hamer, <a href="http://www.ellabakercenter.org/page.php?pageid=1">Ella Baker</a>, and the <a href="http://www.pbs.org/newshour/media/clarion/kc_summer.html">Freedom Summer martyrs</a> (James Chaney, Michael Schwerner and Andrew Goodman) shed sweat, tears and their own blood in order for every ballot to be honored and counted. I can think of no better place than Mississippi for the candidates to address the challenges that will face us in the years ahead. The work of true transformation will not be easy...<div><br /></div><div>As for the pie, it's relatively simple. The gooey filling is made from melting 2 ounces of unsweetened chocolate squares in a stick of butter. When it's nice and melted, like the mortgage market, set aside. In another bowl, add 3 beaten eggs, stir in a few tablespoons of corn syrup and a teaspoon of vanilla. Once you have the chocolate cooled, like the housing market, stir in the egg mixture. Make sure the chocolate isn't cooking the egg mixture. Pour filling into a pie crust, either a traditional pastry or graham cracker crust. Bake for about 35 minutes at 350 degrees. Serve with ice cream or whipped cream.</div><div><br /></div><div>You can find Mississippi Mud Pie in a wide array of casual-dining restaurants. Those versions usually include some type of dense cake layer or more of a pudding base. This version is all the sweetness you need. So, if the debates are indeed cancelled, think about enjoying a slice while reading up on your Civil Rights history.</div><div><br /></div><div>Happy Eating!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Regional Food Reporterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08567860383364741247noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5289566228438722775.post-78481711987513004392008-09-24T08:53:00.000-07:002008-09-25T09:44:59.255-07:00Chicken Vesuvio (Midwestern, particularly Chicago)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvepDVESaOEKhgg-aZLzAJ1mesI6B2FDrz-nIrmJ6qGfzINqmgRTua5igOiuor8lzButSEjlFq47WtBi07e0SctMfxoUFg6O5p_6Y_t_gmQIUmyb5yrgbblUCv9cvzC1BRVM_IdI1VjSbX/s1600-h/images.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvepDVESaOEKhgg-aZLzAJ1mesI6B2FDrz-nIrmJ6qGfzINqmgRTua5igOiuor8lzButSEjlFq47WtBi07e0SctMfxoUFg6O5p_6Y_t_gmQIUmyb5yrgbblUCv9cvzC1BRVM_IdI1VjSbX/s320/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249752816067153874" /></a><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Dear readers, I wasn't going to blog until after I got back from Ireland, <a href="http://www.bloomberg.com/apps/news?pid=20601087&sid=abvT79Aou2Pw&refer=worldwide">but if John McCain can try to suspend time and reason</a>, I can blog whenever I want to. </span>In these tough economic times, some people may think that the American spirit will simply rise above another tough moment in our lives. Well folks, it's going to take a lot more than spirit to take our dear nation out of the economic toilet. Instead of denying that the economy is failing, postponing debates, and waxing poetically about diva pitbulls and their make up, this is a great time to let history be our guide. Before the nation fell into the Great Depression, President Herbert Hoover guaranteed he would usher in an era in which Americans would have "a chicken in every pot and a car in every garage." Unfortunately, a year after Hoover moved into the White House, Americans could barely eat regularly, and could not imagine affording a vehicle of their own. Although Hoover's vision was eroded by the stock market crash (sound familiar), I think the promises of a prosperous and comfortable America is hopeful. I wonder what Hoover would think of our expectations about our lifestyles now. If the presidential candidates promised <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">only </span>chicken and a Geo Metro or Dodge Omni in every driveway, most Americans would balk by such 'low aspirations' for the nation. Or, if a politician encouraged us to live under our means and save money, or if a president suggested that we can't fight terrorism through the purchasing of consumer goods, some Americans would be up in arms. Our nation has fed us on a steady diet of high fructose corn syrup, an accepting attitude toward debt and a notion that patriotism is best expressed through consumption. Now, we are paying the price...I think all those meals are going to cost us $700,000,000,000, including lots of tax and tips to the most irresponsible CEOs in America. But this current crisis in credit, housing, oil, banking, investing, health care and the occupations of Afghanistan and Iraq, has taught all of us that maybe simpler is better. How about we wear last season's jeans, grow our own food, rent movies from our local library, and cook and eat an economical meal at home? </div><div><br /></div>So, if you are finding that your dollar doesn't stretch as far, may I suggest a Chicago original--Chicken vesuvio. Chicago is a truly magical place. It's where I was born, raised, fell in love with my husband and learned how to do the "<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJNC3dgreaU">Super Bowl Shuffle</a>." Chitown has never let me down, and Chicago foods are spectacularly modest. I'm not sure if "the fundamentals of the economy are strong," but the components of this recipe are solid. Chicken vesuvio comprises chicken pieces seasoned with garlic, oregano, and lemon juice, potato wedges and peas. First you sear the chicken pieces in olive oil or whatever you have on hand, season it, and set the chicken aside. In the same pan, you partially pan roast some potato wedges until they are slightly brown, but not completely roasted. Then, set the potatoes aside. Deglaze the pan with some white wine or low-sodium chicken broth. Set aside the sauce. Put all the components in a hot oven with a few cloves of garlic to cook together. Keep in 425 degree oven for about thirty minutes, then sprinkle a few peas on top and continue to cook for ten more minutes. Before serving, pour sauce on top of chicken. If you use all chicken drumsticks, some Russet roasting potatoes, a package of frozen peas, herbs from your garden, and a nice bottle of cheapo white from Yellowtail or Barefoot Wineries, you can have a lovely dinner for under $20.<br /><div><br /></div><div>How about you invite your neighbors over and talk about forming a food co-op? Or bring some leftovers to the home of a friend who just got laid off. Instead of eating out, eat and drink with your family and friends in the safety of your home. And feel grateful that you still have a chicken in your pot.</div><div><br /></div><div>Happy Eating!</div>Regional Food Reporterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08567860383364741247noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5289566228438722775.post-88857539645568119572008-09-23T12:44:00.000-07:002008-09-24T16:07:09.903-07:00Loose Meat Sandwich (Midwestern--particularly Iowa)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqg2-reeKqmRkA1aLe0csQuaiTpyD4-X3IetWmBL-JQn3b7z2wxSdPluneT2v4UiFHZEJrywzEiCi6lTNTnBBQUd6MHfN3EfQTUFPIqsltHIrxoQB0ZGT8wjtx8W7Exn-XTuCC38pFkvf5/s1600-h/images-1.jpeg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqg2-reeKqmRkA1aLe0csQuaiTpyD4-X3IetWmBL-JQn3b7z2wxSdPluneT2v4UiFHZEJrywzEiCi6lTNTnBBQUd6MHfN3EfQTUFPIqsltHIrxoQB0ZGT8wjtx8W7Exn-XTuCC38pFkvf5/s320/images-1.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249305580469498930" /></a><br />After a few weekends of tearfully sending my other half to trips to watch football games across the country, I started my long season of work and fun travel this past weekend. Between now and early December, life will take me to Dublin and Belfast, Albuquerque, and San Francisco. The first stop on my world tour was a visit to Iowa City, Iowa. Coming from a red state, it was amazing to meet so many people who understand that being rich doesn't start with making $5,000,000 per year and who have boldly decided to change the color of their state and possibly the color of the U.S. presidency. I felt so at home among the flat green landscape dotted with yellow wildflowers and accented with blue Obama-Biden signs. I stayed at <a href="http://brownstreetinn.com/">a lovely B and B</a> with the yummiest stuffed French toast ever, and the innkeepers were the loveliest people in the world. And, I got to enjoy a <a href="http://www.simoneplainandsimple.com/">nice, 'slow food' meal on a working farm in nearby Wellman, Iowa</a>. I was in leftist, elitist, academic liberal bliss. Local businesses, midwestern Democrats, and organic foods! Pinch me, I'm in heaven...or Iowa.<div><br /></div><div>As one of the nation's top producers of pork, Iowans enjoy a hearty meat now and again. Although pork tenderloin sandwiches are a regional specialty, I'm a bigger fan of the loose meat sandwich. No other sandwich name describes the beauty of its personality as well as the loose meat treat. Loose meat sandwiches are like a sloppy joe without that too sweet tomato sauce. I have been known to eat a sloppy joe now and again, but with so much sugar in our canned tomato sauces these days (thanks a lot high fructose corn syrup), I prefer the savory broth that meat naturally provides. Loose meat sandwiches are easy to make; the only real challenge is getting the meat loosened up enough. Your best bet is to use the back of a wooden spoon to get the ground meat into teeny-tiny pieces. At loose meat restaurants, the sandwich meat is usually cooked, lightly salted and according to rumor seasoned with a bit of Pepsi, and kept warm on a steamer. The sandwich is also served on a steamed bun with cheese and a dill pickle, and plated with a fork to catch any part of the sandwich that may come loose. </div><div><br /></div><div>You can easily make your own version of a healthier loose meat sandwich with my favorite staples: ground white meat of turkey, low-sodium beef broth and whole wheat buns. Instead of cheese add some creamy avocado and white bean spread (mashed avocado, white beans, olive oil, salt and pepper) to create a tangy flavor. You can spice up your meat with a few basil leaves or a bit of rosemary to complement the turkey's natural flavors. </div><div><br /></div><div>Ahh....now that I'm settled back home, it's back out into the big, bad world. Next stop: Belfast. I'll keep you posted!</div><div><br /></div><div>Happy Eating!</div><div><div> <div><br /></div></div></div>Regional Food Reporterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08567860383364741247noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5289566228438722775.post-88049354085945425842008-09-21T22:29:00.000-07:002008-09-22T13:40:42.973-07:00Fried Pies (South)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkzOALsj1Y-JXQt5NXdm4g4VAEC1ZDBQVJB646GICcvm5chLlkUIw-mr6P56GbP8Cd07KllfOKgb3wNepY-MKFV0WEqczBXUktZ52v3TneBwLrfBaFUlPQaWcI2n_r53ePBULgiqFHK-F7/s1600-h/images.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkzOALsj1Y-JXQt5NXdm4g4VAEC1ZDBQVJB646GICcvm5chLlkUIw-mr6P56GbP8Cd07KllfOKgb3wNepY-MKFV0WEqczBXUktZ52v3TneBwLrfBaFUlPQaWcI2n_r53ePBULgiqFHK-F7/s320/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248725988853999698" /></a><br />Is it just me or does it seem that with every election cycle, we learn about yet another group of voters? NASCAR dads and soccer moms abounded in the 2000 and 2004 elections. So, with all the talk in the press lately about the 'hockey mom' vote, I wanted to speak up on behalf of <a href="http://www.ebonyjet.com/politics/national/index.aspx?id=9282">other voting moms</a>. Yes, Sarah Palin gained critical leadership skills by waking up early, driving, and sitting in a cold arena while yelling. For every hockey mom, there are thousands of hard-working, scrimping and saving, waking up early to work a second job single moms. They are the moms, like mine, who vote for equal pay in the workplace, higher minimum wages, and affordable health care. They actually <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">like </span>community organizers because they have helped them gain safety standards at work, affiliate with unions and support programs like after-school activities for their children. Sometimes hockey moms are single moms, to be sure. Yet, I have a feeling that when the single moms of America take their concerns to the voting booth on November 4, they may say "Thanks, but no thanks" to regressive policies that undermine their best interests. Oh, was I supposed to write about food? Where was I, yes, single moms. This post celebrates my own mother, who worked like hell to secure that I had a future in which I could choose a career and life that I enjoy working like hell at everyday, with no concerns about my health care or need for a day off. On very little, she did so much. And, it is in that same spirit, I celebrate the fried pie. <div><br /></div><div>Fried pies are all about my mom's philosophy in life--you take a little and make a lot out of it. Throughout the South, in home kitchens and restaurants with no oven or when it was simply to hot to fire up the oven, cooks could prepare fried pies quickly and without confronting heat-related 'vapors.' Although iterations of the fried pie were nationalized through the McDonald's hot, apple pie and the Hostess snack pies, a true fried pie MUST be eaten fresh out of the deep fat fryer. A fried pie comprises a traditional pie pastry and a sweet or savory filling. Fried pie flavors range from peach and apple to pulled pork and ground beef. The beauty of the pies is that the pastry is thin, but does not soak up too much oil, and the filling is usually so dense you can get quite full on one pie. The fried pie family includes the British pasty, the apple turnover and the Indian samosa. As with last week's entry, there are NO healthy alternatives to fried pies. You just have to treat yourself. Luckily, Oklahoma provides a plethora of fried pie options, including a chain that serves a <a href="http://www.denosfriedpies.com/">milkshake made with fried pie chunks and custard!</a> </div><div><br /></div><div>When I was a kid, my mother used to bring home a Hostess pie for me and my sister to enjoy on Friday evenings. My sister and I would come home after school, do our homework and chores, and wait to hear the key turn in the door of our apartment. That sound meant that a Hostess pie was on its way. My sister, always the inventive one, would place the lard-based treat in the toaster oven so we could enjoy our pie warm. No, my mom didn't have time to bake pies and sometimes she didn't have time to drive us to activities, and we couldn't afford hockey. And, guess what? We were still listened to, loved, cared for and well-fed. If only my mom could run for vice-president or president. She would definitely be ready day one to lead the country toward more compassion, create peace among warring factions, and establish 'Fried Pie Fridays' as a national holiday.</div><div><br /></div><div>Happy Eating!</div>Regional Food Reporterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08567860383364741247noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5289566228438722775.post-12861107309848225002008-09-12T09:34:00.000-07:002008-09-12T10:25:04.954-07:00Toasted Ravioli (Midwest, especially St. Louis)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn7WV_T68qnu5uiCz0WP4PlnXlH5RS1FP24YyQusodUQg3eJiOQFxm8_OaRRo1acN-ezRS_ZAWx1rLAxH3Bv6Q5L-6thWkNe3y8H56fhxY1EkcBY61G8VguqDuaQ0Xsb1-PN793dUJdWz8/s1600-h/images-1.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn7WV_T68qnu5uiCz0WP4PlnXlH5RS1FP24YyQusodUQg3eJiOQFxm8_OaRRo1acN-ezRS_ZAWx1rLAxH3Bv6Q5L-6thWkNe3y8H56fhxY1EkcBY61G8VguqDuaQ0Xsb1-PN793dUJdWz8/s320/images-1.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245187131022720370" /></a><br />As I embark on another weekend as a football widow (the Mister is off to L.A. for another USC game--Go Trojans), I can't help but make big plans for how I'm going to enjoy my big ol' house all by myself. Wedded bliss is wonderful, but there is nothing like having a remote control of one's own. For my husband, it's more of a Long John Silver's value meal of one's own. I've discovered that when I'm out of town my husband eats every disgusting, deep-fried, heavily hydrogenated food he can find in the metro area. So, I'm taking a cue from his playbook and making toasted ravioli for dinner tonight. No vegetables, no lean proteins and no concern for the arteries. It's a ladies weekend of one at the homestead!<div><br /></div><div>I first discovered toasted ravioli in college at the <a href="http://www.missouri.edu/">University of Missouri </a>(go Tigers!). As an avid diner at the many residential halls, I noticed that on toasted ravioli days, lines would snake outside the cafeteria into stairwells and beyond. St. Louis natives would scoff when out-of-towners like me would ask, "What's toasted ravioli; is it good?" In a city with so few claims to anything, let alone culinary fame, St. Louis is deeply proud of taking a carb-loaded food and enhancing it through frying. St. Louis' Italian section, <a href="http://www.shopthehill.com/">The Hill</a>, boasts that it gave birth to toasted ravioli, although other food historians suggest it is a take off a sweeter filled ravioli from Sicily. Regardless of its origins, every Italian restaurant in St. Louis from little corner dives to the old school-red banquette-Connie Francis-Frank Sinatra-style places to trendy, Italian fusion places offer it as an appetizer. </div><div><br /></div><div>Toasted ravioli is often prepared with either a meat or cheese filling. The light coating of bread crumbs helps flavor the pasta. You can make toasted ravioli at home using a bag of frozen raviolis. No need to make fresh pasta for this kind of dish. Just dip the ravioli in a little beaten egg, then some flavored bread crumbs and finely chopped parsley. Then, fry it up in some vegetable oil. The crunch of the pasta is a nice contrast to the soft ricotta cheese filling. I'm not a huge fan of the meat kinds, yet to each her own. Serve your toasted ravioli with a nice marinara sauce. If you want to add some more flavor to a prepared sauce, roast up a few seeded red peppers in the oven (slow roast at 200 degrees for a few hours; fast roast at 450 degrees for about 45 minutes). Then remove the skins and put in a food processor. Blend with the marinara sauce and enjoy. In honor of having the place to myself this weekend, I won't push a healthy alternative to this recipe. There really is none. You can try to make this recipe in the oven, but to get a real crispness on the ravioli, you have to cover them in a little olive oil or butter. So, why not fry?</div><div><br /></div><div>So, as my husband battles Southern California's notoriously horrible traffic, I will be dining on my version of junk food and watching all the HGTV I want.</div><div><br /></div><div>Happy Eating!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Regional Food Reporterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08567860383364741247noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5289566228438722775.post-7561588577094204642008-09-09T17:36:00.000-07:002008-09-09T18:36:43.457-07:00Lobster Roll (Northeast)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx_4QsLjs1dCEr_eCrKgy7Gu3KfFx1SiS479RHD-hMbM7R2568US5ZKUFpL6CtKkq8QZtyQiOpasjdG79woupq9hoU-8AfAYf2XZRt_fBK8Bf4Fmv5-qqmaduhARgpTOnITlwhdsS-F3-1/s1600-h/images.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx_4QsLjs1dCEr_eCrKgy7Gu3KfFx1SiS479RHD-hMbM7R2568US5ZKUFpL6CtKkq8QZtyQiOpasjdG79woupq9hoU-8AfAYf2XZRt_fBK8Bf4Fmv5-qqmaduhARgpTOnITlwhdsS-F3-1/s320/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244190150395850834" /></a><br /><div>Once upon a time when the economy was strong and mortgage-backed securities were a ridiculous notion, there lived a little girl in Chicago. Sometimes, on special occasions, her parents would take her to Chinatown, where gentrification was light years ahead and there were no Chinese-themed Starbucks coffeehouses in the area. Instead, there were fancy schmancy, family-owned restaurants where waiters wore tuxedos and the lobbies displayed huge tanks of spindly, snappy lobsters. Before the rise of interest-only home loans, Chinese food was a real treat, a special night out. That has all changed with the advent of the super buffet, which also rose as the SUV and the super max prison flourished. Does the food quality of Chinese food correlate with the erosion of the economy? Perhaps, but I digress...Those trips to Chinatown taught me that lobster was the most refined, luxurious food in the world. Romantic dinners on television always included bright orange-pink lobsters on candlelit tables. Lobster was so exclusive that they didn't even print the price on menus! So, imagine my surprise when years later, in graduate school, I found Subway's in Providence, Rhode Island selling lobster rolls. How can Subway sell such a delicacy to the masses? How does the lobster coexist with such pedestrian items as the 'cold cuts' and the 'Italian meats' and the vat of meatballs?</div><div><br /></div><div>Moving to the Northeast taught me that lobster is special, but it's even more special when you are from the landlocked Midwest. If you can't afford an entire lobster because your are in foreclosure (but the heads of Freddie Mac and Fannie Mae can, ironic isn't it?), a lobster roll is your best bet. Lobster rolls are basically lobster salad sandwiches. The basic filling comprises the meat of a one-pound lobster, some very fresh (preferably homemade) mayo, a bit of lemon juice, some salt and pepper to taste, and some scallions or celery if you please. I like to jazz up a lobster roll filling with a couple pinches of crushed red pepper or a few shakes of a high quality hot sauce. Lobster rolls are served on a lightly buttered and toasted hot dog bun with a slit on the top. The sandwich flavors are reminiscent of an elegant tea sandwich or the gradual decline of the real estate bubble. It starts out gently and then releases a bit of a kick. The best side dish is a little coleslaw, raisin-carrot salad or homemade pickles. Serve with a refreshing glass of ice tea with a few springs of mint and reminisce over your old statements from your investment portfolio during the housing bubble.</div><div><br /></div><div>If you are ever in the Northeast, please skip the McLobster Roll and Subway's equally icky (and lobster knuckle-y) version, and go to a real restaurant to enjoy a lobster roll. If you have already switched to a 30-year-fixed mortgage and paid back your equity line of credit, I recommend picking up one of those to-go lobsters popular in Northeastern airports. Bring home your lobster, cook it in boiling water, spend about three hours getting all the meat out and make your own lobster roll at home. Lobster isn't the best thing for you if your cholesterol level is as high as the government's bail out of private corporations that engaged in predatory lending, unethical mortgage collecting practices and the deceptive packaging of debts for sale to foreign investors. So, use a little less lobster meat, add some fresh veggies like celery, carrot and bell peppers to some fresh, plain yogurt. Spice it up with some chives and fresh herbs to taste and load it all into a whole wheat pita. This healthier version goes great with some truth in lending and a dose of fiscal responsibility. </div><div><br /></div><div>Happy Eating! </div>Regional Food Reporterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08567860383364741247noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5289566228438722775.post-18573931582762240992008-09-05T10:16:00.000-07:002008-09-08T09:31:10.142-07:00Chicken and Waffles (Southern and West Coast)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKyqZsK6xcosSnwjQRhl9EqZC6CRR4YJ1tNbg7JssbQJaib6pUwgSQ-nft1aVKrOQGSZg16YvzUpjxemUgsSvMSuKCd7pi91E1gxJ55UIzjxO_grIX6liGXi245GaEwY3ZOOmaPpVkV9eo/s1600-h/images.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKyqZsK6xcosSnwjQRhl9EqZC6CRR4YJ1tNbg7JssbQJaib6pUwgSQ-nft1aVKrOQGSZg16YvzUpjxemUgsSvMSuKCd7pi91E1gxJ55UIzjxO_grIX6liGXi245GaEwY3ZOOmaPpVkV9eo/s320/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242022496590572738" /></a><br />While most people were enjoying their Labor Day Friday by sleeping in, purchasing products produced by non-union labor, and losing eyebrows while firing up grills, I was celebrating in my own way. With my better half off to the opening season game for USC (Go Trojans), I decided to celebrate the labor of the shady restaurant cooks of America. Mama E's Soul Food Restaurant in Oklahoma City is housed in a one room house-like building with blacked out windows and flashing strobe lights outside the building. Mind you, I ate there at 11:00 a.m. Despite the lack of ambience, the food was absolutely delicious, and they offered a truly wonderful regional delight--chicken and waffles.<div><br /></div><div>Chicken and waffles is like having a brunch buffet on a plate. Can't decide between breakfast or lunch? Just load up a fresh, crisp waffle with a few fried chicken wings and you have the best of both worlds! Chicken and waffles is both Southern and West Coast at the same. Chicken and waffles is often found on the weekend menus of Southern restaurants. Yet the most famous chicken and waffle joint is <a href="http://www.roscoeschickenandwaffles.com/">Roscoe's</a> in Los Angeles. The migration of chicken and waffles from the Deep South to Los Angeles is perhaps a culinary artifact of the movement of African-Americans in the early 20th century. Often forgotten from the historical record is that Black Americans searching for new opportunities went places other than Chicago, New York and Pittsburgh. African-American culture flourished in places like Los Angeles, San Francisco, and Seattle in the early 1900s and beyond. Our foods can tell a rich story about our national and local history, if we stop and think about it. When I enjoy a plate of Southern food in Los Angeles or San Diego or New York, I can't help but stop and think about the excitement and anticipation felt by the droves of Southerners looking for the promised land in big cities.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have fond memories of my husband taking me to USC football games in L.A. when we were dating and eating at Roscoe's afterward. He somehow remained in love with with me despite watching me inhale waffles and chicken wings as if I were in a competitive eating contest. That is a true test of love.</div><div><br /></div><div>Chicken and waffles works because of the salty crunch of the lightly floured wings against the sweet, buttermilk waffle and syrup. The more you try to make sure the items don't touch, the more you need to just throw caution to the wind and let all the flavors meld into one. Now, if you are trying to live long enough to see another football season, here is a healthier version of chicken and waffles. I recommend using oven roasted chicken pieces (chicken, salt and pepper on top, roasted for one hour in a 450 degree oven...that's all you need) on top of Bisquick's Heart Smart waffles. Enjoy with Griffin's sugar-free syrup and a pat of fake butter.</div><div><br /></div><div>Happy Eating!</div><div><div><br /></div></div>Regional Food Reporterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08567860383364741247noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5289566228438722775.post-17202595219464078342008-09-03T08:33:00.000-07:002008-09-03T21:28:04.432-07:00Buckle (Northeast)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSWYJ-nJD7D2YPmoSwqChGXoE9g5pkCs02wqXTa7dATLYyYj3c2bx-DvMZEVqt6_FuLgz6fi3F7kf37mXbYTjEHHEKkrT9C0WgAqzcfZVHo9_1tzgBEmwIVsDDSwu70K6FBYYwADjh4Md3/s1600-h/images-2.jpeg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSWYJ-nJD7D2YPmoSwqChGXoE9g5pkCs02wqXTa7dATLYyYj3c2bx-DvMZEVqt6_FuLgz6fi3F7kf37mXbYTjEHHEKkrT9C0WgAqzcfZVHo9_1tzgBEmwIVsDDSwu70K6FBYYwADjh4Md3/s320/images-2.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241819538716924626" /></a>Election season is in full swing! The yard signs are out. The conventions are almost all done. And the racism and sexism are at an all time high! Only eight weeks more to go! Due to the election season, each state and each region of our great nation has the potential to come into the spotlight like never before. Imagine that of the four people running for national office this year, three have close ties to such sparsely populated places as Alaska, Hawaii and Delaware! Fortunately, you don't need a lot of people in a state, or a region for that matter, to create a wonderful food culture. <div><div><br /></div><div>This post is dedicated to the hard scrabbling roots of V.P. nominee Joe Biden. I have to admit I didn't love my most recent trip to Delaware in which the Mister and I explored a nearly abandoned outlet mall in Wilmington's 'hot entertainment district.' Alas Senator Biden's roots stretch beyond the Blue Hen State to the great state of Pennsylvania. My best friend from college was from Western Pennsylvania and she taught me that hers was a grizzled state where people worked hard and talked hard. Grizzled people even love grizzled foods. And nothing gets more grizzled than blueberry buckle. Buckle's origins come from the not-so-grizzly Pennsylvania Dutch, who have brought wonderful culinary treats to the Northeast. The ingredients are hearty and definitely tougher than donuts, cruellers and other morning treats that lack edge. </div><div><br /></div><div>Blueberry buckle comprises three layered components, which uses the principles of gravity to create a yummy treat. In preparing buckle, you start with a layer of buttery pound cake batter. Then, you top it with fresh blueberries. The buckle is then topped with a streusel mix of butter, sugar, flour and oats. Gravity becomes a friend to buckle as the weight of the streusel and blueberries mixes in the batter. This process helps maintain the integrity of the blueberry and creates beautiful bursts of color throughout the cake. </div><div><br /></div><div>So, while you are driving to your union meeting in Scranton or headed to shoot something because you love your right to do that or attending a Obama-Biden rally, bring some buckle along. It just may put a smile on your face. Or not.</div><div><br /></div><div>Happy Eating!</div></div>Regional Food Reporterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08567860383364741247noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5289566228438722775.post-23658539004967974102008-09-01T22:11:00.000-07:002008-09-01T22:44:31.805-07:00Hot Dish (Upper Midwest)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsbaqBEBMGPPJdmzKQjl2Mnf1qKOex4a_3Adyp8q3QuC0bJ8ykiG0_GqNMdkDYWfmw1WjOH7MxvjCfyeHpdOFGRoDRXUHUb40kuluQ2mKF3l5FybeE6D2qIAK4ZGoh5UEHSM2JW8pY1vqU/s1600-h/images-1.jpeg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsbaqBEBMGPPJdmzKQjl2Mnf1qKOex4a_3Adyp8q3QuC0bJ8ykiG0_GqNMdkDYWfmw1WjOH7MxvjCfyeHpdOFGRoDRXUHUb40kuluQ2mKF3l5FybeE6D2qIAK4ZGoh5UEHSM2JW8pY1vqU/s320/images-1.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241287673658047666" /></a>Considering that I am professor, you can assume that I'm part of that damn liberal, secular, elite that loves my organic groceries in reusable tote bags, my <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://nytimes.com">New York Times</a> </span>and my fuel efficient car. I teach ethnic studies, women's studies and African-American history to scores of young people in order to advance my feminist, anti-family and leftist agenda. Although <a href="http://www.foxnews.com/">Bill O'Reilly</a>, among others, thinks me and my arugala-eating friends are destroying America, I come to you in the spirit of bi-partinship. Food knows no political party. In states, whether they be red, blue or purple, everyone likes to share a hearty meal, prepared with love with their friends and family and complain about gas prices. So, today's blog is a nod to our elephant-loving friends assembled in Minneapolis for the <a href="http://www.gopconvention2008.com/">Republican National Convention</a>. <div><br /></div><div>Unlike my previous posts, this regional dish embodies a myriad of creative concoctions that takes the basics of the home pantry and yields a complete, sometimes even nutritionally balanced meal. Minnesotans are known for their hearty, if sometimes uninspired, culinary tastes, and nothing screams "Ain't that America," like hot dish. The formula for hot dish is simple. Take one part meat, two parts canned soup-preferably creamed, one part vegetable-usually frozen or canned, combine and then top with a crumbly mixture of either a) smashed Ritz crackers, b) tater tots, c) or crumbled potato chips. The most famous hot dishes include tuna noodle casserole, hashbrown and cheese and sour cream casserole, and green bean casserole with friend onions and cream of mushroom soup.</div><div><br /></div><div>Of course, I'm too busy recycling, supporting same-sex unions, and fist-bumping my husband to experiment with hot dishes. But, I do have a hot dish-ish recipe that may fit the bill. I also have strayed from the traditional hot dish (what a surprise) by nixing the butter, whole milk and other heavy binders used in these casseroles. Yet, my hot dish specialty is a corn bread casserole, made with good ol' fashioned packaged foods prepared by the good ol' food industry. This dish is not ruined by my fancy organic foods or hippie farmer's market junk. To start, heat up your oven to 375 degrees. In a bowl, mix up one can of Libby's fat-free creamed corn, one box of Jiffy Cornbread Muffin mix, add one and a half cups of skim milk, one egg, add one cup Green Giant frozen corn niblets, add one cup sharp cheddar cheese, add a chopped up jalapeno, one chopped red pepper and one chopped green pepper. Then, sprinkle a little bit of brown sugar into the batter just to sweeten it up. Place it in a 9X13 glass casserole dish, sprayed with Pam non-stick spray. If the thought of a vegetarian hot dish is anathema to you, you can add in some real crumbled bacon, but if you want to keep it vegetarian, you can actually add Bacos, which do not include any meat. I know, fake bacon product...yum. Sprinkle the top of the casserole with a little more cheese and bake. Bake for a about forty minutes. You want to preserve some of the creaminess of the pudding, so don't overbake. But, if you do, you've just created a wonderful cornbread. Invite some of your activist, intellectual, anarchist or performance artist friends and dazzle them with your ability to connect to 'real people' by making 'real food.' Enjoy as a main dish hot dish or a side dish hot dish. </div><div><br /></div><div>Happy Eating!</div>Regional Food Reporterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08567860383364741247noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5289566228438722775.post-205432999122212252008-08-27T12:42:00.000-07:002008-08-27T13:52:02.533-07:00Queso Dip (Southwest)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCbiPRVOQgSuTDGsV20po4EgJa4wLd3E1V_-_Nh5M_G6K8Ivhz31ayiA1OtWoaXSyjnP-nj3o5W_wYTu7oXft0SU0juK2GFgJ3xnKKKd6LPJVKgebFzS4hSd732ld7x6lSe_f8EdBCf2Kf/s1600-h/images-2.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCbiPRVOQgSuTDGsV20po4EgJa4wLd3E1V_-_Nh5M_G6K8Ivhz31ayiA1OtWoaXSyjnP-nj3o5W_wYTu7oXft0SU0juK2GFgJ3xnKKKd6LPJVKgebFzS4hSd732ld7x6lSe_f8EdBCf2Kf/s320/images-2.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239295334663935698" /></a><br />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.<div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>So, consider serving queso at your college football party this weekend. (My teams are: the <a href="http://mutigers.cstv.com/">Missouri Tigers</a>, then the <a href="http://usctrojans.cstv.com/">USC Trojans</a>, then <a href="http://fightingillini.cstv.com/sports/m-footbl/ill-m-footbl-body.html">that nameless team from Illinois</a> 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.</div><div><br /></div><div>Happy Eating!</div>Regional Food Reporterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08567860383364741247noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5289566228438722775.post-6454590686952546152008-08-26T17:57:00.000-07:002008-08-26T18:21:52.809-07:00Rocky Mountain Oysters and Lamb Fries (Western)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdvlSDKBirjx0fYrl1QE19oKeQtmp2zOLa71YAt97KIaRfBFZ4wDwpR7GFIW-FK0BFx2d0mFnz6_RYCKM7r1m49mVgzFk-6FT1tm4h_cQflVCc5jVcmipTPoX9gAO4Twrb2n7eIJ-yEVqn/s1600-h/images-1.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdvlSDKBirjx0fYrl1QE19oKeQtmp2zOLa71YAt97KIaRfBFZ4wDwpR7GFIW-FK0BFx2d0mFnz6_RYCKM7r1m49mVgzFk-6FT1tm4h_cQflVCc5jVcmipTPoX9gAO4Twrb2n7eIJ-yEVqn/s320/images-1.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238998733512916882" /></a><br />In honor of this week's <a href="http://http://www.demconvention.com/">Democratic National Convention</a>, 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 <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Diet for a New America, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">in which food hero <a href="http://http://www.foodrevolution.org/"> John Robbins</a></span><a href="http://http://www.foodrevolution.org/"> </a>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.<div><br /></div><div>I enjoyed lamb fries when my in-laws were in town at Cattlemen's Steakhouse in Oklahoma City's <a href="http://http://www.stockyardscity.org/">Stockyards City</a>. 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. <div><br /></div><div>Happy Eating!</div></div>Regional Food Reporterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08567860383364741247noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5289566228438722775.post-85440190098221901922008-08-22T10:45:00.000-07:002008-08-26T18:26:21.776-07:00Sourdough Bread (West Coast)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2v5HMZ45dP60sHHt7NZhjfbeiCAqK5kR16Z9zswRixHOz3ZF2l2-IQYVEg5h72Chc1liGhB1m7uKvpNeXnHOQuKVVbBYji0ma4kQVg3-O1wGk_rVnun4NDvJtI_txdnGqtkpBEDT-qaUv/s1600-h/images.jpeg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2v5HMZ45dP60sHHt7NZhjfbeiCAqK5kR16Z9zswRixHOz3ZF2l2-IQYVEg5h72Chc1liGhB1m7uKvpNeXnHOQuKVVbBYji0ma4kQVg3-O1wGk_rVnun4NDvJtI_txdnGqtkpBEDT-qaUv/s320/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237406416923541970" /></a><br />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. <div><br /></div><div>I was practically doing summersaults when I discovered that the <a href="http://http://www.boudinbakery.com/Museum/Bakery_Tour">Boudin Sourdough Bakery</a> 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)</div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div>Happy Eating! </div><div><br /></div>Regional Food Reporterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08567860383364741247noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5289566228438722775.post-89765126993243603222008-08-18T18:55:00.000-07:002008-08-20T10:30:50.432-07:00Deep Dish Pizza (Chicago and the Upper Midwest)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJBesNArzoEcnL4i3xEoGew31Mk55ZkS8T2kd80JKlp3qwdrUKTkzKAn5uwLT9eZjWYAoKhjt1wcMWCUkbW-AHG9HlBJiGyK_gq2TkclURfsaH6K2boLVTHx-XbbO4uSANHrVw2obLmi79/s1600-h/images.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJBesNArzoEcnL4i3xEoGew31Mk55ZkS8T2kd80JKlp3qwdrUKTkzKAn5uwLT9eZjWYAoKhjt1wcMWCUkbW-AHG9HlBJiGyK_gq2TkclURfsaH6K2boLVTHx-XbbO4uSANHrVw2obLmi79/s320/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236042830339240098" /></a><br />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. <div><br /></div><div>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.<div><br /></div><div>Happy Eating!</div></div>Regional Food Reporterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08567860383364741247noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5289566228438722775.post-13695387514606902372008-08-07T18:57:00.000-07:002008-08-07T19:40:51.728-07:00Boston Cooler (Midwest--Really Detroit)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvY5_Y6MaGhyGH64rBu9qK6NJmTPM9dZI_rHEkNwWycgWLpayNyZzVWnqPDIBN46kw22CLhyk0K9SGPPY9QzHeJBi0cWhj-TWraVvBLwAz4BKpc_cQJxbYq0OHaBK3DKkU8fAzy0Hx8uiS/s1600-h/images.jpeg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvY5_Y6MaGhyGH64rBu9qK6NJmTPM9dZI_rHEkNwWycgWLpayNyZzVWnqPDIBN46kw22CLhyk0K9SGPPY9QzHeJBi0cWhj-TWraVvBLwAz4BKpc_cQJxbYq0OHaBK3DKkU8fAzy0Hx8uiS/s320/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231971271496515138" /></a><br />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. <div><br /></div><div>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' <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Middlesex,</span> 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.</div><div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div>Happy Eating!</div><div><br /></div>Regional Food Reporterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08567860383364741247noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5289566228438722775.post-54237124381962844282008-07-31T20:29:00.000-07:002008-08-26T18:31:10.324-07:00Cincinnati Chili (Midwestern-basically the Cincinnati area and environs)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOhD7GScsUJE401dLwrJoeHtjeB48pvdISUYpRhyACFFfARg1oAFaQg8IQIXshdlNyEMXe9Bj6gOhGaXxeuEw-ZJkjEV1B0tp_H41AXKU6GAm5Ocl0U4b9j-xLBFZyKZFP92ExT-IInIQL/s1600-h/images.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOhD7GScsUJE401dLwrJoeHtjeB48pvdISUYpRhyACFFfARg1oAFaQg8IQIXshdlNyEMXe9Bj6gOhGaXxeuEw-ZJkjEV1B0tp_H41AXKU6GAm5Ocl0U4b9j-xLBFZyKZFP92ExT-IInIQL/s320/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229389519573455186" /></a><br />The second best part of my job (after the inspiring young minds and therefore changing their lives) is attending meetings, conferences, and symposia all across the country. As a avid traveler and food lover, the first thing I do after I trash the hotel like a rock star, is ask the hotel staff to lead me to the local goodies. There have been a few really desperate times that I've had to eat at a Chili's (gasp), Fridays (blech), and the most disdainful Cheesecake Factory (end it now!). I once had to dine during karoke night at a Rock Bottom Brewery (no more "Greatest Love" renditions, please).<div><br /></div><div>On a recent business related adventure, I had the opportunity to visit the Queen City--Cincinnati. The second I told<a href="http://currentdissents.blogspot.com/"> my husband</a> that I would be going to the city on the majestic Ohio River, he reminded me that the night before we met, he and his college roommate actually had a Cincinnati Chili party. His chili fete involved endless cans of chili, male bonding and maybe my beloved pondering when he would find the one, or not. Well, lo and behold, nine months, one week and one day after my husband's chili festival, we were married. So, I like to believe that Cincinnati chili is good luck.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, in addition to preparing to visit the National Underground Railroad/Freedom Center Museum, I knew I just had to try the chili that brought me and my beloved together. He insisted that I eat at a Skyline Chili restaurant, BUT I purchase Gold Star chili in the can to enjoy back home in Oklahoma. My husband is a brilliant man, but his chili suggestions (and his love, support and kindness) are among his greatest contributions to my life. </div><div><br /></div><div>Cincinnati chili is what the folks on "Top Chef" call a "fully composed dish." There are many ways you can order you Cincinnati chili, but when in Rome you should go all out. The classic five-way Cincinnati chili involves taking a heaping plate of spaghetti, topping it off with Cincinnati chili, red kidney beans, chopped onion and the finest shredded mild cheddar cheese imaginable. You may think, "It's so simple. How could it be that good?" Well the secret lies in the flavor of the chili. Unlike the spicy, red chilis that are found in the Southwest, the Cincinnati chili has a sweeter, cinnamon flavor. When the chili blends with the starchiness of the spaghetti and the creaminess of the cheese it meets the tanginess of the onions and the savoriness of the bean, you have the perfect meal. Skyline serves up their chili with a lovely bowl of oyster crackers that bring you back to being a kid. Skyline also serves up chili on wonderful wiener hot dogs and soft buns. It's an absolute treat.</div><div><br /></div><div>Luckily, the Cincinnati airport sells spice packets from Gold Star chili so you can make it at home. In order to ensure that my lovely darling and I live a long life, I try to make a healthy version of whatever indulgence we love. So, I swapped the ground beef in the chili for some lean ground turkey (make sure it's the lean kind; dark meat turkey can pack the fat). I added a nice can of lycopene-packed tomatoes, and I substituted the cheese for a part-skim style cheese. I can't guarantee that this chili can bring you as much good fortune as it brought me, but you never know.</div><div><br /></div><div>Happy Eating! </div><div><br /></div>Regional Food Reporterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08567860383364741247noreply@blogger.com0