It has been said that you will find what you are looking for when you stop looking.
I got an invite to join a friend for dinner this week. This is my fairly new friend, Ann the IG. While Ann and I only recently met, we have a frightening number of things in common and are fast becoming very good friends (I'd like to think). Anyway, Ann suggested that we try a Mexican place called Guapo's near her apartment in Tennleytown.
Readers, you know how I feel about Mexican food. You know I have looked and looked for a place that could meet my needs for yummy tacos and to-die-for quesadillas. How successful was Guapo's? Well...
I first noticed the large outdoor deck on the front of the restaurant. It was packed with people but as it was so beautiful out yesterday I really hoped we could get a table. As I waited on the sidewalk for Ann the IG, the next most noticeable thing about Guapo's struck me: the smell. Guapo's smells so good I was really temped to pick things off the deck dinner's plates while they weren't looking (I didn't). Needless to say, my hopes were getting pretty high.
Once Ann the IG arrived we were told there was a 10 minute wait for an outside table. No problem, we went to the bar to wait it out. The very friendly bartender informed me that they had a myriad of cocktail choices, including Sangria. I said yes to the Sangria and boy was I happy that I did. While Guapo's Sangria is a little stronger and less fruity than what I would make myself, it was really very good; ruby red served with little chunks of fresh apple floating in it. Yum!
Reader, perhaps I should pause here to note that I drank that Sangria through a straw, hence I was maybe a little intoxicated for the rest of the meal. I don't think it effected my judgement, but I would be remiss if I didn't at least warn you.
When we were called a few minutes later for our table we were escorted outside to the deck. Tables here were jammed together so it really felt like sitting family style- it was absolutely clear that we would be getting to know the people sitting next to us. Luckily for us, the people sitting next to us were FABULOUS! We were greeted by two guys playing Scrabble who apparently go to Guapo's all the time. They know the menu back to front and were eager to assist us in making our selections (as long as we promised to help them cheat at their game). We couldn't have been more pleased with our seating arrangements. Although our Scrabble playing friends left before we were finished with our meal, it really did feel like they were old friends by the time they left.
Despite the recommendations of the Scrabble Boys, I went with the tacos- they just looked too good to ignore. Everything at Guapo's is clearly very fresh. Pre-meal the table is served with the standard chips and salsa, and I have to say that salsa was unbelievably fresh! And good! The tacos were served with some of the best Spanish rice I've ever had. It was sticky and flavorful, with a few veggies dotting it here and there. The beans were not your usual Mexican restaurant beans-from-a-can, and were very mild and tasty. The tacos were PERFECT! They were full of cheese and veggies and tender meat and were served with just enough sour cream.
One of the young men who replaced our good friends the Scrabble Boys ordered the enchiladas and I made an immediate note to try those next time- they looked awesome.
Now, I've been advised that Guapo's is a chain, but that Tennleytown is the original and the best. I don't doubt it and I don't plan to test the theory. Now that the weather is gorgeous again, you can find me on the deck at Guapo's in Tennleytown, hanging with the Scrabble Boys and drinking Sangria through a straw.
Tuesday, April 3, 2007
Monday, March 26, 2007
Quick Quiche
Who started the rumor that quiche is difficult to make?
Actually, it was recently suggested that confusion between quiche and soufflé might be where this rumor has its roots. Well, I am here to set the record straight.
Quiche is one of the easiest, most delicious dishes out there. The base of egg and cheese is open to so many variations it would be impossible to count. Fillings can be anywhere from bacon to broccoli, ham to mushrooms. (I’ve been contemplating a sausage quiche for a while now.)
I used to make quiche often when I lived in Charleston. However, one thing quiche does not do well is keep; this is a dish much better served fresh. As such, I haven’t made a single quiche since I moved to DC. I certainly won’t eat an entire pie by myself and for one reason or another when I have cooked for others over the last year, quiche has never been the dish of choice.
Sunday night we had some friends over for dinner, one of whom is a vegetarian. I had made my mac & cheese last time they came over, so this seemed the perfect opportunity for quiche at last!
Recipe:
6 eggs (preferably room temperature)
2 cups of whole milk or heavier
2 cups grated cheese (any mild white cheese will do)
Your favorite seasonings and fillers.
Pie crust (store bought works just fine)
Beat eggs together with the milk. I use whole milk usually, but you can use anything from whole to heavy cream. (Oddly I have found that the heavier the milk/cream, the less cohesive the end product is.) Once the eggs and milk are completely mixed, add in the cheese a little bit at a time so it doesn’t all clump together. Sometimes I use Gruyere cheese, other times I use Emmanthaler- depends on my mood. Any mild white cheese will do- even plain old Swiss. You can season the mix with whatever you feel is appropriate; I have used salt, rosemary and tarragon in the past. After that, pick a few handfuls of your favorite filler (my absolute favorite is bacon) and pour the whole mix into a pie crust. Bake at 450 degrees until the top turns a golden brown and the mixture is no longer loose. Serve immediately. Yum.
Actually, it was recently suggested that confusion between quiche and soufflé might be where this rumor has its roots. Well, I am here to set the record straight.
Quiche is one of the easiest, most delicious dishes out there. The base of egg and cheese is open to so many variations it would be impossible to count. Fillings can be anywhere from bacon to broccoli, ham to mushrooms. (I’ve been contemplating a sausage quiche for a while now.)
I used to make quiche often when I lived in Charleston. However, one thing quiche does not do well is keep; this is a dish much better served fresh. As such, I haven’t made a single quiche since I moved to DC. I certainly won’t eat an entire pie by myself and for one reason or another when I have cooked for others over the last year, quiche has never been the dish of choice.
Sunday night we had some friends over for dinner, one of whom is a vegetarian. I had made my mac & cheese last time they came over, so this seemed the perfect opportunity for quiche at last!
Recipe:
6 eggs (preferably room temperature)
2 cups of whole milk or heavier
2 cups grated cheese (any mild white cheese will do)
Your favorite seasonings and fillers.
Pie crust (store bought works just fine)
Beat eggs together with the milk. I use whole milk usually, but you can use anything from whole to heavy cream. (Oddly I have found that the heavier the milk/cream, the less cohesive the end product is.) Once the eggs and milk are completely mixed, add in the cheese a little bit at a time so it doesn’t all clump together. Sometimes I use Gruyere cheese, other times I use Emmanthaler- depends on my mood. Any mild white cheese will do- even plain old Swiss. You can season the mix with whatever you feel is appropriate; I have used salt, rosemary and tarragon in the past. After that, pick a few handfuls of your favorite filler (my absolute favorite is bacon) and pour the whole mix into a pie crust. Bake at 450 degrees until the top turns a golden brown and the mixture is no longer loose. Serve immediately. Yum.
Oya? Okay.
Hello food readers! I know, it’s been a while. Again, it’s not that I haven’t gone a-dining lately, but do you really want IHOP reviews? I think not.
Have no fear! I have actual real-life dining events to report on!
Friday night the Boyfriend and I were invited to dinner with some friends. To be honest, I wasn’t that keen on the idea since the restaurant looked a bit frou frou (read the review of Farrah Olivia for a refresher on that concept). However, the Boyfriend wanted to be social and I knew it would be a fun group, so we went.
Oya has a very cool atmosphere, although it was so crowded at the bar that it was impossible to really have a look around the reception area. It wasn’t until we were leaving that I noticed a couple of fun out of the way areas for people waiting for tables or just boozing. Once we were lead into the dining room I noticed what has to be one of Oya’s most interesting decorative features: the large window to the kitchens is surrounded by (fake) red roses several feet in each direction. The window itself is hidden behind a water fall. Almost the entire restaurant is white, so the effect of the red roses was very striking, very cool. In several other locations screens were made out of hanging chains- almost like a bead curtain but more industrial.
Unfortunately, the interior designers for Oya felt the need to press on with the unusual, rather than stopping while they were ahead. The white table was covered not with cloth or paper, but was in fact covered entirely in what I think was pleather. In places the pleather was scuffed and marked, making it seem a little cheap. After a while it became sticky and unpleasant to touch as well. Also, pleather is a terribly non-absorbent substance, but more on that in a minute.
The next mis-step for the restaurant’s designers was the choice of glassware. Water was served in very skinny, very tall opaque glasses that looked more like candle holders than actual drinking glasses. Cocktails were served in bottom-heavy glasses which had unstable, rounded bottoms. Our first casualty of the evening was a cocktail; once nudged onto its rounded base, that glass didn’t stand a chance. Pour liquid over a smooth surface like pleather and guess what- it goes everywhere. We learned that lesson again half an hour later when one of the servers knocked a water glass while attempting to deliver a plate. A third glass also slipped, but was caught before any damage was done.
Enough about the décor- what about the food??
Oya offers a prix fixe three- course menu at $35 ($30 during the week) in addition to their regular menu. I’m always up for a culinary adventure, so I went with the prix fixe (although there were a few items that looked magnificent on the regular menu).
I started with Goat Cheese Timbale served with caramelized apples in a walnut vinaigrette. I love goat cheese, but wasn’t exactly sure what a “timbale” was. The caramelized apples and walnut vinaigrette should have tipped me off that this was more of a sweet than savory dish. I’ve never had goat cheese quite like this. It was whipped smooth and reminded me very strongly of cheesecake. The apples were delicious and the walnut vinaigrette had a nice kick to it. It was a decent serving size, but I still felt like I wanted more time to explore the complexity of this intriguing little dish.
For my entrée I went with their Hangar Steak served with gratin potatoes, grilled tomatoes and a red wine sauce. I ordered my steak medium-rare, but it came with a few just plain old rare spots. Those spots were hard for me simply because I still somewhat getting used to eating meat (former vegetarian). However, the flavor of the steak overwhelmed my trepidation enough that I didn’t leave a single bite. The red wine sauce was very tasty although there was not enough of it on the plate. The gratin potatoes were also very good- nice and cheesy but not over the top. I didn’t love the tomatoes. To me they just seemed out of place, but maybe that’s just me. Admittedly, I am not a huge fan of cooked tomatoes.
Dessert. Why oh why do I always choose the wrong dessert? This time it was the Chocolate, Chocolate, Chocolate consisting of chocolate mousse with a hazelnut biscuit and strawberries. There was absolutely nothing wrong with this dish (although I couldn’t tell you where the promised hazelnut biscuit was, because I never saw nor tasted it). The mousse was smooth and rich, covered in a thin chocolate ganache. The strawberries were fresh and flavorful. Ho hum. However, the Boyfriend (who always gets the right dessert) ordered the Banana Bread Pudding with rum raisin ice cream, caramel sauce and coconut. It was perfect. Simply perfect. Ah well; at least he shares.
There was a lot of sushi on the table and I am told it was very good. I don’t eat fish so we will all have to trust those sushi-eaters. I did sample Mel’s Duck Crepes with hoisin scallion sauce, which was to die for.
I would be willing to go back to Oya just for another shot at the crepes and bread pudding. In fact, if I had guests in town I would take them to Oya to show off the cool décor; but I would make absolutely certain to warn any one wishing to dine there in the future to watch out for those drinking glasses. And maybe wear a raincoat.
Have no fear! I have actual real-life dining events to report on!
Friday night the Boyfriend and I were invited to dinner with some friends. To be honest, I wasn’t that keen on the idea since the restaurant looked a bit frou frou (read the review of Farrah Olivia for a refresher on that concept). However, the Boyfriend wanted to be social and I knew it would be a fun group, so we went.
Oya has a very cool atmosphere, although it was so crowded at the bar that it was impossible to really have a look around the reception area. It wasn’t until we were leaving that I noticed a couple of fun out of the way areas for people waiting for tables or just boozing. Once we were lead into the dining room I noticed what has to be one of Oya’s most interesting decorative features: the large window to the kitchens is surrounded by (fake) red roses several feet in each direction. The window itself is hidden behind a water fall. Almost the entire restaurant is white, so the effect of the red roses was very striking, very cool. In several other locations screens were made out of hanging chains- almost like a bead curtain but more industrial.
Unfortunately, the interior designers for Oya felt the need to press on with the unusual, rather than stopping while they were ahead. The white table was covered not with cloth or paper, but was in fact covered entirely in what I think was pleather. In places the pleather was scuffed and marked, making it seem a little cheap. After a while it became sticky and unpleasant to touch as well. Also, pleather is a terribly non-absorbent substance, but more on that in a minute.
The next mis-step for the restaurant’s designers was the choice of glassware. Water was served in very skinny, very tall opaque glasses that looked more like candle holders than actual drinking glasses. Cocktails were served in bottom-heavy glasses which had unstable, rounded bottoms. Our first casualty of the evening was a cocktail; once nudged onto its rounded base, that glass didn’t stand a chance. Pour liquid over a smooth surface like pleather and guess what- it goes everywhere. We learned that lesson again half an hour later when one of the servers knocked a water glass while attempting to deliver a plate. A third glass also slipped, but was caught before any damage was done.
Enough about the décor- what about the food??
Oya offers a prix fixe three- course menu at $35 ($30 during the week) in addition to their regular menu. I’m always up for a culinary adventure, so I went with the prix fixe (although there were a few items that looked magnificent on the regular menu).
I started with Goat Cheese Timbale served with caramelized apples in a walnut vinaigrette. I love goat cheese, but wasn’t exactly sure what a “timbale” was. The caramelized apples and walnut vinaigrette should have tipped me off that this was more of a sweet than savory dish. I’ve never had goat cheese quite like this. It was whipped smooth and reminded me very strongly of cheesecake. The apples were delicious and the walnut vinaigrette had a nice kick to it. It was a decent serving size, but I still felt like I wanted more time to explore the complexity of this intriguing little dish.
For my entrée I went with their Hangar Steak served with gratin potatoes, grilled tomatoes and a red wine sauce. I ordered my steak medium-rare, but it came with a few just plain old rare spots. Those spots were hard for me simply because I still somewhat getting used to eating meat (former vegetarian). However, the flavor of the steak overwhelmed my trepidation enough that I didn’t leave a single bite. The red wine sauce was very tasty although there was not enough of it on the plate. The gratin potatoes were also very good- nice and cheesy but not over the top. I didn’t love the tomatoes. To me they just seemed out of place, but maybe that’s just me. Admittedly, I am not a huge fan of cooked tomatoes.
Dessert. Why oh why do I always choose the wrong dessert? This time it was the Chocolate, Chocolate, Chocolate consisting of chocolate mousse with a hazelnut biscuit and strawberries. There was absolutely nothing wrong with this dish (although I couldn’t tell you where the promised hazelnut biscuit was, because I never saw nor tasted it). The mousse was smooth and rich, covered in a thin chocolate ganache. The strawberries were fresh and flavorful. Ho hum. However, the Boyfriend (who always gets the right dessert) ordered the Banana Bread Pudding with rum raisin ice cream, caramel sauce and coconut. It was perfect. Simply perfect. Ah well; at least he shares.
There was a lot of sushi on the table and I am told it was very good. I don’t eat fish so we will all have to trust those sushi-eaters. I did sample Mel’s Duck Crepes with hoisin scallion sauce, which was to die for.
I would be willing to go back to Oya just for another shot at the crepes and bread pudding. In fact, if I had guests in town I would take them to Oya to show off the cool décor; but I would make absolutely certain to warn any one wishing to dine there in the future to watch out for those drinking glasses. And maybe wear a raincoat.
Friday, February 16, 2007
Cold night. Great food.
Tuesday was a nasty day in DC weather wise. It snowed and then there was a lovely coating of freezing rain. It was slippery and nasty outside. Most people stayed inside all warm and cozy. Who would want to go out on a night like that? Well, that would be me, I guess. It had been the plan to go to Bazin's in Vienna for dinner on Tuesday night for a while. A little ice wasn't going to stop me. Through the cold I just kept reminding myself of a particular item I had seen on their website: goat cheese profiteroles. That alone was enough to keep me going.
I think there were supposed to be 6 of us, originally. In the end, only four of us were crazy to venture out. It was a good enough group to keep the conversation lively and fun, though. Besides myself, present were The Boyfriend, Mardi Gras Mel, and Mark (a very nice guy whom I do not know particularly well enough to bestow upon him a nickname).
We had a little difficulty finding the place at first, driving slowly around ice encrusted roads and loving the the car's heater. When we did finally turn onto the right street, it felt a little bit like Christmas. What a cute street! Especially with all the snow looking like frosting on the charming little shops and New England style buildings. Bazin's itself fits right in along with that quaint atmosphere- it's housed in an old fire station.
The dining room is dimly lit and warm. It's a wide open space but somehow they manage to create a very intimate atmosphere. Did I mention that it was warm? We were lead as fast as our frozen toes could carry us to a window side seat. Great view and it managed to not be drafty, too.
My first disappointment came when I opened the menu. No goat cheese profiteroles. I had come through sleet and snow and was not to be rewarded with goat cheese profiteroles. I was very, very sad. I am still, even three days later, very, very sad. However, there were a few other tasty options on the menu. I opted to start with an interesting ravioli involving smoked onions. It sounded at the very least intriguing, but turned out to be remarkable. The onion flavor was pungent without being overwhelming, and the tomato sauce served over the ravioli was enough to make me want to lick the plate.
One of the greatest things about dining out with other people who love food is that you get to try a little of everything. The Boyfriend ordered an appetizer of mushrooms with tasso ham served over a biscuit. We were surprised when it came to the table in a bowl, brimming with a large serving of the mushroom/ham mixture. It was just as good as the ravioli, with a lovely rich sauce that one taste did not satisfy. Melanie had the duck quesadilla- another odd sounding dish that turned out to be fantastic.
I was in a steak mood that night, not a mood I fall into all that often, but when I do I tend to cave to the craving. I ordered the filet mignon, again not my usual choice but I was too tempted by the "potato-onion hash" not to try it. The steak came drizzled in a white truffle cream sauce, hash off to one side and a few cooked baby carrots around the plate. The hash was good, if a little over salted, but the carrots were delicious. I was actually upset there weren't more carrots. As I cut into the meat- wait, hold on, first I need to tell you what I cut into the meat with. Let me reiterate- Bazin's is a warm and cozy bistro-style place; somewhere you might go to drink wine and dine with old friends in a relaxed yet somewhat upscale atmosphere. It is not the kind of place you expect to find yourself cutting into a $26 filet mignon with a snakeskin patterned steak knife. And yet, that's exactly what I had in my hand as I prepared to slice into my steak. It was about as jarring as me interrupting my review to talk about a snakeskin patterned steak knife. However, let me continue. As I cut into the meat I noticed at once that it was perfectly cooked and very tender. My mouth confirmed that assessment. This was a very, very good steak. The white truffle cream sauce was very distinctive in flavor, but did not go over the top to smother the steak's own wonderful flavor.
Again, I was offered a little bit of everyone's food. The Boyfriend had steak as well, only his was Au Poivre. That steak turned out to be just as good as my own, perfectly cooked again, tender and delicious. The sauce was a wonderful compliment to it, but not overwhelming. I sampled the loaded baked potato that came with his steak as well. Again- outstanding. No bacon bits or crumbles there, just actual chunks of real bacon. I was even allowed to eat all of the asparagus that came with his entree. Happy me!
I'm not a huge Risotto fan, but Melanie ordered it and I was willing to try it. Once more: perfect. Well cooked but not mushy, the flavors were all blended together but still distinctive. I would order this Risotto for myself, and that is saying something.
There were a few sides we saw on the menu that wouldn't be coming with any of our entrees, but which we wanted to sample so we ordered them for the table: the herb french fries and the mac & cheese. The fries were good, but weren't exceptional. The mac & cheese though... I am going to spend a decade trying to figure out how they got that mac & cheese to be rich and satisfying and yet have a light, almost floral taste to it. I've never had anything like it. Delicious.
After all that you really couldn't blame us that we couldn't turn down dessert. We should have, but we didn't. I had a chocolate peanut butter torte. It wasn't that great, really. The Boyfriend had an apple tart style dessert that was served with "salted caramel ice cream". I love when salt and sweet are combined. I could have eaten every last bit of that ice cream if I'd been allowed (which I wasn't, but I can't blame him).
Bazin's was a worthy trip. Even on a terrible, cold, frankly dangerous night. It was also one of the best meals I've had a in a long, long time and I have no qualms at all at saying go here, and go to Bazin's.
I think there were supposed to be 6 of us, originally. In the end, only four of us were crazy to venture out. It was a good enough group to keep the conversation lively and fun, though. Besides myself, present were The Boyfriend, Mardi Gras Mel, and Mark (a very nice guy whom I do not know particularly well enough to bestow upon him a nickname).
We had a little difficulty finding the place at first, driving slowly around ice encrusted roads and loving the the car's heater. When we did finally turn onto the right street, it felt a little bit like Christmas. What a cute street! Especially with all the snow looking like frosting on the charming little shops and New England style buildings. Bazin's itself fits right in along with that quaint atmosphere- it's housed in an old fire station.
The dining room is dimly lit and warm. It's a wide open space but somehow they manage to create a very intimate atmosphere. Did I mention that it was warm? We were lead as fast as our frozen toes could carry us to a window side seat. Great view and it managed to not be drafty, too.
My first disappointment came when I opened the menu. No goat cheese profiteroles. I had come through sleet and snow and was not to be rewarded with goat cheese profiteroles. I was very, very sad. I am still, even three days later, very, very sad. However, there were a few other tasty options on the menu. I opted to start with an interesting ravioli involving smoked onions. It sounded at the very least intriguing, but turned out to be remarkable. The onion flavor was pungent without being overwhelming, and the tomato sauce served over the ravioli was enough to make me want to lick the plate.
One of the greatest things about dining out with other people who love food is that you get to try a little of everything. The Boyfriend ordered an appetizer of mushrooms with tasso ham served over a biscuit. We were surprised when it came to the table in a bowl, brimming with a large serving of the mushroom/ham mixture. It was just as good as the ravioli, with a lovely rich sauce that one taste did not satisfy. Melanie had the duck quesadilla- another odd sounding dish that turned out to be fantastic.
I was in a steak mood that night, not a mood I fall into all that often, but when I do I tend to cave to the craving. I ordered the filet mignon, again not my usual choice but I was too tempted by the "potato-onion hash" not to try it. The steak came drizzled in a white truffle cream sauce, hash off to one side and a few cooked baby carrots around the plate. The hash was good, if a little over salted, but the carrots were delicious. I was actually upset there weren't more carrots. As I cut into the meat- wait, hold on, first I need to tell you what I cut into the meat with. Let me reiterate- Bazin's is a warm and cozy bistro-style place; somewhere you might go to drink wine and dine with old friends in a relaxed yet somewhat upscale atmosphere. It is not the kind of place you expect to find yourself cutting into a $26 filet mignon with a snakeskin patterned steak knife. And yet, that's exactly what I had in my hand as I prepared to slice into my steak. It was about as jarring as me interrupting my review to talk about a snakeskin patterned steak knife. However, let me continue. As I cut into the meat I noticed at once that it was perfectly cooked and very tender. My mouth confirmed that assessment. This was a very, very good steak. The white truffle cream sauce was very distinctive in flavor, but did not go over the top to smother the steak's own wonderful flavor.
Again, I was offered a little bit of everyone's food. The Boyfriend had steak as well, only his was Au Poivre. That steak turned out to be just as good as my own, perfectly cooked again, tender and delicious. The sauce was a wonderful compliment to it, but not overwhelming. I sampled the loaded baked potato that came with his steak as well. Again- outstanding. No bacon bits or crumbles there, just actual chunks of real bacon. I was even allowed to eat all of the asparagus that came with his entree. Happy me!
I'm not a huge Risotto fan, but Melanie ordered it and I was willing to try it. Once more: perfect. Well cooked but not mushy, the flavors were all blended together but still distinctive. I would order this Risotto for myself, and that is saying something.
There were a few sides we saw on the menu that wouldn't be coming with any of our entrees, but which we wanted to sample so we ordered them for the table: the herb french fries and the mac & cheese. The fries were good, but weren't exceptional. The mac & cheese though... I am going to spend a decade trying to figure out how they got that mac & cheese to be rich and satisfying and yet have a light, almost floral taste to it. I've never had anything like it. Delicious.
After all that you really couldn't blame us that we couldn't turn down dessert. We should have, but we didn't. I had a chocolate peanut butter torte. It wasn't that great, really. The Boyfriend had an apple tart style dessert that was served with "salted caramel ice cream". I love when salt and sweet are combined. I could have eaten every last bit of that ice cream if I'd been allowed (which I wasn't, but I can't blame him).
Bazin's was a worthy trip. Even on a terrible, cold, frankly dangerous night. It was also one of the best meals I've had a in a long, long time and I have no qualms at all at saying go here, and go to Bazin's.
How to Get Stewed
If you've ever had or made beef stew, you're probably familiar with the idea of putting red wine into the mix. Slightly less popular, but by no means inferior, is the idea of putting beer into beef stew- usually Guinness. Well, hold on to your hats, ladies and gentlemen, because last week I tried a recipe that called for BOTH!
The recipe:
1.25 lbs lean stew meat
2 T olive oil
6 cloves of garlic, minced
6 cups of beef stock
2 cups of red wine
1 cup of Guinness
1 T butter
4 peeled Russet potatoes
1 onion, chopped
2 carrots, peeled and chopped
In a heavy stock pot or dutch oven, heat the olive oil and then brown the meat on all sides. Once the meat is browned, add garlic and cook until golden. Add beef stock, red wine and Guinness. Lower heat and simmer uncovered for 60 minutes. In a separate pan saute the remaining vegetables with the butter for about 20 minutes until tender. Add vegetables to stock pot and continue to simmer covered for about 60 minutes or until vegetables and beef are tender.
Now, I have never been one to exactly follow a recipe. Here are the substitutions I made to the above: I used 4 cups of beef stock instead of 6, substituting more Guinness and red wine; baby carrots instead of adult carrots (had to say it, sorry); pearl onions instead of a regular onion. Under normal circumstances I use additional garlic in almost any recipe- but check that recipe out: 6 cloves of garlic!! Awesomeness...
I actually didn't use stew meat, either, since I find that it's normally too tough. I know that's the point of stew meat, but I prefer to use a finer cut. I forget what I used here, but it was something like a London Broil, and I used closer to two pounds.
This recipe produces a very rich, satisfying stew. The Guinness was really present in the flavor while the wine closed it out nicely. Unfortunately for me, I put the potatoes in too early and the whole thing came out looking like brown mush because they dissolved into the broth. Still, it was yummy even if it wasn't pretty. In the future I would also probably use unpeeled red potatoes instead of Russet and I would find a way to put mushrooms in there, too.
Served with a nice fresh sourdough bread, this recipe produced about 5-6 servings. Highly recommended.
The recipe:
1.25 lbs lean stew meat
2 T olive oil
6 cloves of garlic, minced
6 cups of beef stock
2 cups of red wine
1 cup of Guinness
1 T butter
4 peeled Russet potatoes
1 onion, chopped
2 carrots, peeled and chopped
In a heavy stock pot or dutch oven, heat the olive oil and then brown the meat on all sides. Once the meat is browned, add garlic and cook until golden. Add beef stock, red wine and Guinness. Lower heat and simmer uncovered for 60 minutes. In a separate pan saute the remaining vegetables with the butter for about 20 minutes until tender. Add vegetables to stock pot and continue to simmer covered for about 60 minutes or until vegetables and beef are tender.
Now, I have never been one to exactly follow a recipe. Here are the substitutions I made to the above: I used 4 cups of beef stock instead of 6, substituting more Guinness and red wine; baby carrots instead of adult carrots (had to say it, sorry); pearl onions instead of a regular onion. Under normal circumstances I use additional garlic in almost any recipe- but check that recipe out: 6 cloves of garlic!! Awesomeness...
I actually didn't use stew meat, either, since I find that it's normally too tough. I know that's the point of stew meat, but I prefer to use a finer cut. I forget what I used here, but it was something like a London Broil, and I used closer to two pounds.
This recipe produces a very rich, satisfying stew. The Guinness was really present in the flavor while the wine closed it out nicely. Unfortunately for me, I put the potatoes in too early and the whole thing came out looking like brown mush because they dissolved into the broth. Still, it was yummy even if it wasn't pretty. In the future I would also probably use unpeeled red potatoes instead of Russet and I would find a way to put mushrooms in there, too.
Served with a nice fresh sourdough bread, this recipe produced about 5-6 servings. Highly recommended.
Wednesday, February 7, 2007
Can I get a slacker with a side of lazy?
Yes, I've been a slacker on this here blog. There's no excuse. It's not like I haven't been out to eat- I have. And it's not like those experiences weren't memorable- they were! Mostly in a bad way. Alas, I'm just a lazy person.
Have no fear! In the coming days I plan on trying a new Mexican place, making my very own beef stew, and running the gauntlet of other culinary experiments! Please DO stay tuned!
Have no fear! In the coming days I plan on trying a new Mexican place, making my very own beef stew, and running the gauntlet of other culinary experiments! Please DO stay tuned!
Thursday, January 25, 2007
A Long Story About a Chicken Sandwich
It was never my intention to form a food critique blog. I had originally envisioned this blog to include stories about food, reflections on my favorite foods- even recipes. Thing is, though- I hate my kitchen. Actually, I hate my whole apartment, but that's neither here nor there. The point is- I don't cook much in my own house (mostly due to lack of dishwasher) and the Boyfriend never has any food which to cook in his house. So until I get a better kitchen, I'll probably be posting mostly reviews of restaurants.
However, to keep my original idea somewhat alive, here is a story about food that is not a restaurant review, but I think it does reflect the importance of food.
Lunch is my enemy. I find it to be the most difficult meal of the day because it is relatively undefined. Breakfast is defined by, well breakfast food, and dinner is defined by larger, heartier meals- usually ones served warm. But what defines lunch? A sandwich? Perhaps, but we can't eat sandwiches every day for lunch, now can we? This is the fundamental question behind a problem the Boyfriend and I encounter all too often. It all starts with the question, "Are you getting hungry?"
Now, if it is somewhere in the earlier hours of the day this question poses no problem. Asked in the evening it becomes a question of dinner, and we seem to do okay with that one, too. However, if it is asked during the indisputable lunch hours... there is simply no telling what will happen next.
Well, the question popped up last Saturday and wouldn't you know it- I had an answer! "I am craving a chicken sandwich." I said confidently.
It was decided that we would get a chicken sandwich! Where, though? Well, we had some errands to run... surely there would be some chicken sandwich selling places on our way. That couldn't be too hard, could it? I knew the area where we were going to be had a Chilli's (I know, I know- a foodie like me eating at Chilli's- but I really like their chicken tenders!), but the Boyfriend wasn't in a Chilli's mood. Fine. Again, how hard could it be to find a chicken sandwich?
Getting near our destination we saw a Bennigan's and decided to give them a try- surely they were purveyors of chicken sandwiches. Although the restaurant was only about a quarter full, we were told by the hostess that we would have to wait five minutes (she even held out her hand to show us her five fingers, in case there was a misunderstanding). I assumed they were simply short-staffed and took a seat to wait out our five minutes.
Let's pause the story here to make something clear: I need to eat. Well, everyone needs to eat or they'll starve, but the thing with me is I need to eat. My blood sugar does weird things if I get too hungry and then I get cranky, I get a headache and essentially I just fall apart. I wasn't quite at that point when we walked into Bennigan's but I was definitely hungry.
Back to the story. After our five minutes of waiting were up we were seated and given menus. What do you know- they had a rather yummy looking sandwich. We decided on our orders and chatted while we waited to be served. And we waited. And waited. And waited some more. At no point did anyone come over to our table to even acknowledge our presence. We were being ignored, and I was getting annoyed. We waited a little while longer, but when I realized the people across from us were on their second beverages and still didn't have their food, I knew what kind of service we would get even if we ever were acknowledged. We left.
Between the five minute waiting period and the time spent being ignored at the table I had started to reach the level of dangerously hungry, and we weren't sure where to go from there. We drove and drove but simply found nothing that looked like it served food. Throwing the notion of chicken sandwiches out the window we pulled up to a favorite breakfast place (told you we were okay with breakfast food, didn't I?). It was 2:50 p.m., and the sign on the door said they closed at 3:00. We unanimously decided not to do that to the staff. After all, we like to eat there and would rather the staff not hate us.
Back in the car and driving. I was now well into the danger zone of hunger. Headache was full blown and I was past the point of caring what I ate.
Little did I know, the Boyfriend- that hero of mine- had a plan.
"A Chilli's!" I cried happily a few minutes later as we pulled into the parking lot.
"Yes," he said, resigned. "A Chilli's."
And you know what? That was one of the best chicken sandwiches I've ever had.
However, to keep my original idea somewhat alive, here is a story about food that is not a restaurant review, but I think it does reflect the importance of food.
Lunch is my enemy. I find it to be the most difficult meal of the day because it is relatively undefined. Breakfast is defined by, well breakfast food, and dinner is defined by larger, heartier meals- usually ones served warm. But what defines lunch? A sandwich? Perhaps, but we can't eat sandwiches every day for lunch, now can we? This is the fundamental question behind a problem the Boyfriend and I encounter all too often. It all starts with the question, "Are you getting hungry?"
Now, if it is somewhere in the earlier hours of the day this question poses no problem. Asked in the evening it becomes a question of dinner, and we seem to do okay with that one, too. However, if it is asked during the indisputable lunch hours... there is simply no telling what will happen next.
Well, the question popped up last Saturday and wouldn't you know it- I had an answer! "I am craving a chicken sandwich." I said confidently.
It was decided that we would get a chicken sandwich! Where, though? Well, we had some errands to run... surely there would be some chicken sandwich selling places on our way. That couldn't be too hard, could it? I knew the area where we were going to be had a Chilli's (I know, I know- a foodie like me eating at Chilli's- but I really like their chicken tenders!), but the Boyfriend wasn't in a Chilli's mood. Fine. Again, how hard could it be to find a chicken sandwich?
Getting near our destination we saw a Bennigan's and decided to give them a try- surely they were purveyors of chicken sandwiches. Although the restaurant was only about a quarter full, we were told by the hostess that we would have to wait five minutes (she even held out her hand to show us her five fingers, in case there was a misunderstanding). I assumed they were simply short-staffed and took a seat to wait out our five minutes.
Let's pause the story here to make something clear: I need to eat. Well, everyone needs to eat or they'll starve, but the thing with me is I need to eat. My blood sugar does weird things if I get too hungry and then I get cranky, I get a headache and essentially I just fall apart. I wasn't quite at that point when we walked into Bennigan's but I was definitely hungry.
Back to the story. After our five minutes of waiting were up we were seated and given menus. What do you know- they had a rather yummy looking sandwich. We decided on our orders and chatted while we waited to be served. And we waited. And waited. And waited some more. At no point did anyone come over to our table to even acknowledge our presence. We were being ignored, and I was getting annoyed. We waited a little while longer, but when I realized the people across from us were on their second beverages and still didn't have their food, I knew what kind of service we would get even if we ever were acknowledged. We left.
Between the five minute waiting period and the time spent being ignored at the table I had started to reach the level of dangerously hungry, and we weren't sure where to go from there. We drove and drove but simply found nothing that looked like it served food. Throwing the notion of chicken sandwiches out the window we pulled up to a favorite breakfast place (told you we were okay with breakfast food, didn't I?). It was 2:50 p.m., and the sign on the door said they closed at 3:00. We unanimously decided not to do that to the staff. After all, we like to eat there and would rather the staff not hate us.
Back in the car and driving. I was now well into the danger zone of hunger. Headache was full blown and I was past the point of caring what I ate.
Little did I know, the Boyfriend- that hero of mine- had a plan.
"A Chilli's!" I cried happily a few minutes later as we pulled into the parking lot.
"Yes," he said, resigned. "A Chilli's."
And you know what? That was one of the best chicken sandwiches I've ever had.
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