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Noshing Out – Burger Breakdown – West vs. South

                When contemplating the ultimate showdown of the fast food burger, a popular matchup is often posed between In-and-Out Burger, the California chain, and Shake Shack, the East coast sweetheart. Heated debates ensure over grinds, toppings, customizations, and other extras (In-and-Out will give you a hat for free if you ask). However, having spent a good deal of time in Texas, another chain entered the fray of the burger battle, Whataburger.

                This Texan-founded restaurant, its logo striped with orange and white, has the classic burger joint vibe. Employees race about in white, button-down t-shirts, managers have orange suspenders and different colored, full-length shirts. There is a persistent din of the fryalator behind the counter paired with the clicking noise of the soda dispenser filling another cup. What is oddly not present is the blurping sound of ketchup plopping into white paper cups. This is because Whataburger is known for its “gourmet ketchup,” which comes in individual containers rather than bladders.

The classic Whataburger itself is fairly large. About a centimeter thick and approximately four inches in diameter, the meat’s grind is actually fairly loose. There is certainly a smoky component, but no char. The burger is evenly cooked, and not inherently greasy. The potato bun has a hint of sweetness. Standard toppings also follow the classic recipe, iceberg lettuce is leafed, not chopped, the onions are thick and raw, tomatoes are sliced, and the cheese is yellow American. Admittedly, the flavors don’t blend as much, with some bites containing a nose-blasting amount of raw onion, best moderated with the spicy “gourmet” ketchup.

In the other corner of this burger bout, In-and-Out burger has an even more classic feel. White, yellow and red as primary colors, much of their packaging features bible verse references, a reflection of the Christian beliefs of the founders. Primarily located in Southern California, the chain is known for its very limited menu with nigh infinite customization. One can get a burger “animal style,” the mustard cooked onto the patty, with onions cooked or raw, “protein style,” nixing the bun in favor of iceberg lettuce, and as many additions of patties and cheese as you would like. The potatoes used for the fries are peeling and cut on-site, on demand, and their signature “spread” is pink and similar to thousand island dressing: a mixture of ketchup, mayonnaise, and sweet pickle relish.

As to the burger itself, the patties are smaller and smoother in the grind, the outer rim featuring a bit of char. The cheese firms quickly after its melted on the grill and a similarly sweetish bun is toasted on the inside, dressed with a generous amount of iceberg lettuce and tomato slices, and of course, spread. The sautéed onions are dark brown and chopped fine, adding an umami accent uncommon in fast food.

So who wins this burger bash? I’m not presumptuous enough to make that decision. Fries, shakes, atmosphere, availability, so much more goes into the holistic burger experience than what I’ve described here. What I can say is, they both beat McDonalds hands down (which is not saying much) and I still make a better burger at home (a high bar to surpass indeed).

Noshing Out – Eat Your Science

                 “If I was your food god, [which I am increasingly believing is an inevitability] I would decree that…*Slams whisk-ended regal staff on the floor*you would need a license to use sriracha!” declared Alton Brown to a fully filled Bushnell theater Sunday night. His “If I were your food god…” pronouncements, made in Grecian deity regalia and all, was just one portion of the concert/standup/cooking demonstration/lecture that is Eat Your Science, his second live tour.

                Alton and his original show, Good Eats, was an enormous factor into how and why I got into cooking. My best description of Alton as a food personality is Bill Nye the Science Guy meets Julia Child. He is witty, smart, and most importantly, honest. His show took a scientific look at the “anatomy” of an ingredient or specific dish. This analysis allowed me to learn about that food and manipulate a personal idea, rather than simply following the prescribed method from a recipe. I’ve seen every episode of every season of Good Eats, and still refer to them for concepts and ideas.

                This was my third time seeing Alton live. My first was back in college. He was on a book tour for his release of “Feasting on Asphalt.” He was at the Mall of America and my parents and I waited for almost two hours to get my copy of his book signed. Before the signing though, he did a Q&A session with the audience. I was called on and asked him, with regards to an upcoming date, what dessert to make that would pair well with his pizza recipe. He clarified if I lived alone and if this was a potential girlfriend situation, both were true. He then said, “In that case, the best dessert…is breakfast!”

                My next encounter was about two years ago. He came to Hartford as part of his Inevitable Edible Tour. Similar in style to his current tour, he brought audience members on stage to cook a pizza in his “Mega Bake,” an over-the-top remake of an Easybake Oven using rock and roll stage lighting to create a 650˚ light tunnel in which he cooked. His performance on Sunday was equally quirky, using liquid nitrogen to alter to texture and reduce the polyphenols of an acrid cocktail, its ingredients selected at random from a Price-Is-Right style wheel (the lucky audience member spun tequila, fernet blanc [a herbaceous liquor similar to Jägermeister], and instant coffee). In addition, using the same principles as a supercomputer, created the Astro Pop, a rocket ship shaped cone of hot air popcorn poppers capable of popping four bushels of corn at once.

                Alton’s whimsical curiosity with food, is anchored in science, research, and knowledge. His light-hearted demeanor makes him amicable, but he also has a childlike deviousness. All of this comes together to create a food personality that is unique, and to me, a model to strive for. Thank you Alton for the inspiration, the knowledge, and a wonderful night. 

Noshing Out – Texas Hospitality

                After slurping oysters and chomping chicken on a stick, I wandered the grounds of St. Mary’s University for more Oyster Bake fun. I was called out because of the backpack I had won from spinning a wheel at the Wing Stop booth. I got to talking to the group that had called me over and got some advice on how to spend my time at the event. About two hours later, I hear my name called. Sure enough, it’s the same group of people heading toward the Kevin Fowler concert, asking me to join. I tag along. In short order, we are waving beers in air to Texan-style country music. In between songs, I get to know the group and before you know it, I have an invitation to a barbeque at their house the next day.

                Beers in hand, I’m met by Joe out front and am welcomed into Jody’s home. The cylindrical smoker is already housing ribs and brisket as Joe’s bright orange lamb ribs enter its depths. An educated guess on my part revealed Joe’s secret rub, blended barbeque chips. The three of us, along with the rest of the party, gather around the island in the kitchen while Jody’s wife takes out one of her wedding presents, a family recipe book. A recipe from her youth, she constructs a homemade guacamole, using a stick blender to combine the avocado, lime, salt, chilies, and other ingredients. The creamy dip is immediately adorning everyone’s chips, the slight tart lemon juice elevating the buttery flavors of the avocado, its smoothness contrasting with the crunchy tortilla chips.

                After another round of beers and shooting at cans with a BB gun the back yard, the meat was taken off the smoker and carved. Charred ends were prized bites, densely flavored crunchy bits of meat dangerously picked from the cutting board while the rest of the brisket was sliced. The dry rub had scorched onto the meat, each knife stroke causing an audible crack. As each slice was separated, it perfumed the kitchen with carnivorous aromas. Both brisket and ribs were succulent and moist, the meat pulling apart yet maintaining its integrity. Smokey flavors from the wood permeated every bite, with crisp or soft textures depending on where you sank your teeth in.

                Not long after, Joe’s lamb ribs were brought in. Each “lolichop” had a slightly sweet flavor on the surface from the BBQ chips. The sometimes gaminess of lamb was not present at all, the tender meat yielding from the bone with each bite. The third animal of the evening, the meat’s texture was more of a single cut rather than something to be pulled apart. Flavors were layered from succulent meat to smoky char to sweet BBQ, the mélange blending wonderfully.

                The night wound down with a final round of beers and a game of Cards Against Humanity, both new and old friends calling each other out for their raunchy contributions. As my last weekend in San Antonio with my work, I can’t think of a better way to punctuate the travel, and I can’t thank my gracious hosts and new friends enough for their Texas-size hearted hospitality.

Noshing Out – Mad Pecker

                Ok, so I realize that the title may be a little misleading. Mad Pecker is the name of a pizza and beer dive in San Antonio. After a long day at work, in the last weeks of this project, the team and I decided to check Yelp and head out. Located in the back end of a small strip mall, it easy to miss the place. The sign is of a dapper steampunk gentleman and the interior is all wood. It has almost a western tavern feel, with open space and square wooden columns dotting the dining room. Above the large bar are two TVs, one playing “the game” and the other on a presentation loop, describing the beers on tap.

                We sat in the middle of the room on metal chairs with thin cushions. In each corner of the dining space, at a 45 degree angle, were more TVs depicting the same game. We started by ordering a plate of nachos, the thick, triangle chips covered in a gunky, cheese sauce. I overheard the bartender mentioning that there are plenty of cheap cheeses that they could use, but they spring for “the fancy stuff,” whatever that means. The nachos came dressed with pulled pork, small chunks of tomato, and diced green onion, mostly haphazardly tossed about the tray. The pulled pork was likely not made in house as it seemed like it was recently warmed up, chunks of fat still throughout, and the cheese sauce was heavier than it looked, and tasted as unnatural as its yellow/orange color.

                We ordered two pizzas, a supreme and a meat lover/Hawaiian. The dough had the characteristic unevenness of being hand-tossed, the outsides crispy with a bit of char. As pizza should, it was almost like a bagel or baguette, crispy on the outside, yet chewy in the middle. The cheese still stringy, it was clear that these had been made to order. The dough had almost a whole wheat heartiness yet was still thin, the small grains still crunching outside of the singed crust. The pineapple on the Hawaiian was clearly from a can, and the ham looked like it was cubed from a “ham, water added for $3.99/lb” from Cosco. The other toppings were freshly cut, but the flavors didn’t seem to meld. The toppings sat above the cheese, each standing out on its own.

The wait staff was knowledgeable about their impressive beer selection, the most interesting of which was The Salty Lady. A gose beer brewed in Fort Worth TX, it had natural tasting lemon flavors with a salty texture. It was similar to a salted lemon drink from India, or a Pocari Sweat from Japan. The liquid had a viscosity and effervescence, with a tart bite. A unique beer (for me) that was the most memorable part of the dinner.

Noshing Out – Fireplace Feast

                It’s the beginning of April. Easter has passed and we already had some mid-60˚ days. But mother nature, in her jesting way, decided to give winter one last (hopefully) hurrah and dump snow on Connecticut last weekend. An hour drive away from Hartford, the Salem Cross Inn provides colonial experiences throughout the year. Entering the front door, you get the vibe of old New England with wood and rusted farming implements decorating the interior. Down the stairs is an open entertaining room with a wood hearth about eight feet wide and five feet tall. Logs of hardwood are ablaze within its brick depths, the flames pushing heat into the room. Outside, a horse drawn carriage provided an unseasonably wintery reprieve from the heat with a short ride around the property, now covered in white. With flurries gusting, we huddled under blankets to block the wind as we surveyed the acres of land belonging to the Inn.

                Back inside, warm, spiced cider in hand, we watched racks of prime rib roasting on spits. I was entranced by the rotating meat, the higher rows basting the lower as the juices dripped down. Eventually, they were removed to rest and carve; the logs were rearranged to prepare for a demonstration on how to make clam chowder. A heavy, black cast iron pot, reminiscent of a witch’s cauldron, was hung on a hook above the roaring flames. Onion, fat back, clams, clam juice, potatoes, and cream were added incrementally. The audience took turns stirring the concoction with a long wooden paddle, but the turns were quick, as the heat billowing from the hearth was intense. I was surprised at the violent boil within the cauldron, which I would expect to give the shellfish a tough texture, but as we filed out to the dining room, I was soon proved wrong.

                We sat at tables, family style. Behind the scenes, a roux was added to the chowder to thicken it, and a team of servers quickly ladled out the soup for service. Thick, but not grainy, with the clams firm but yielding, the chowder was excellent. Unlike most chowders, laden with potato, this version had a wealth of seafood, its briny flavors contrasting with the heavy creaminess. Sides of squash puree, spinach pie, and rolls were handed out before the carved, medium rare prime rib was plated. Marbled with fat, the meat was pinkish in the center with a char on the outside. Spices and juices had crusted from the intense wood heat, imbuing the meat with a woody, smokey flavor, yet soft texture.

                During the social hour prior, the pastry chef had given a demonstration of an antiquated coring/peeling machine, working through a bowl of apples from a local orchard. These had been tossed with butter and spices and baked into a tray of apple pie. Accompanying the tray, a server hefted a tub of house made whipped cream, halfway to butter in thickness and heady with the scent of vanilla. Diners were quick to take photos of the mountain of whipped dairy. Dollops made an audible plop as we lined up for the sweet, tart, freshly made finish to our meal; the apples still maintaining a slight firmness and the buttery crunch of the pie shell accenting the richness of the cream.

Noshing Out – Gourmet Barbeque

                Hopping on planes and accruing skymiles week after week has its perks, but what it doesn’t allow you to do is get a good feel for a city at play. Sure, you might be able to see restaurants, districts within the city, maybe even go for a run along some of its more scenic areas, but until you can spend a day at leisure, not having to head back to the hotel to get enough sleep for that first thing in the morning call, you cant really get a taste for the city that surrounds the office. Last weekend, I stayed over in San Antonio.

My weekend started earlier than my work days do, driving up to La Cantera mall by 8:00 am on a briskly cool Saturday morning. The sun just peaking up from the horizon, slowly illuminating more and more of the land, hundreds of Texans gathered in between the closed doors of the shoppes, geared up in running attire, ready to dash through the Culinaria 5k. A fellow runner was wearing a t-shirt that encapsulated the entire event “I run so I can wine.” Upon completion of the 1.5 laps around the outdoor mall, runners were treated to not only the standard water, bananas, and granola bars, but to a walk around food and wine festival. Nothing like 19 Crimes Cab Sauv before 9 am after a 3.1 mile run. Restaurants from all over the area had tents and tables set up, dishing out carnitas, sangrias, and famously fluffy pancakes from Magnolia (whose line started with the first finishers of the race). Cooking on an open griddle, steam billowed from their shack. Served with whipped butter and warm syrup, the flapjacks felt like warm marshmallows to the touch. Similar to a fresh donut, the pancakes dissolved in your mouth, suffusing it with the  signature “sour” twang from buttermilk and the nuttiness from the flat top grill.

After a rest and a shower, my day continued with another jaunt through the Pearl district. The same location from a previous post on Cured, the ex-brewery is now a shopping, art, and culinary space. While everywhere are the signs of the old brewery, brick buildings, rusted metal structures, what stands out is the wooden shack. The Granary ‘cue and brew looks like it could be a sugar shack in the North Woods. The microbrewery kettles stand prominently in copper between the entrance and the bar. Seated and perusing the beer menu, I select a Belgian trippel. I’m a fan of the heavier gravity and lighter flavors of Belgian styles brews, and after tasting two others, the mild orange rind bitterness and slight spice of cinnamon came through a background sweetness of almost hard cider flavor.

I always endeavor to sample as much of a restaurant’s offerings as I can, particularly the establishment’s specialties. In pursuit of this, I ordered the market meat platter and the beef clod (part of the shoulder). The meat platter came with pulled pork and beef brisket with sides of beans and german potato salad. After tasting the beans, I asked if I could swap the potatoes for a second bowl. Pieces of meat, a variety of beans in a rich molasses, and tomato paste sauce were heavily perfumed with smoke. Both the beans and the meat gave way at the slightest pressure of the tongue, melting in my mouth.

The beef clod was plated with coffee quinoa, baked to a hard crunch. Tomato caramel replaced the traditional barbeque sauce in this playful reinterpretation of brisket. Red, brown, purple, and black shaded the tender center of the cut. Its outer edges firmer with a burnt end char. Sweet, smoke, spice, and umami meshed with contrasting textures with each bite. Chased with a cold beer, I could proudly call my day complete.