Noshing Out – Best.Salad.Bar.Ever.

The elevator dings open to the 12^th floor of Macy’s in downtown Minneapolis. Down the hall, I can hear the clatter of plates and utensils and the dull roar of a crowded room, full of conversations. Christmas carols tinkled above the din from a live pianist. After a short wait, my former roommate and I are escorted through the room to our small table. Colored in white, gray, and silver, the room has a high ceiling and bright, wide windows. Despite the cloudy day, the entire room feels well illuminated. 

We equip ourselves with white plates and black trays and make our way down the line.

Every container is surrounded by ice and is refilled quickly by the white-clad staff. The first thing that struck me about the salad bar was the lettuce varieties. Romaine, field greens, and arugula were options, but iceberg was absent. Following was the standard slew of toppings from shredded carrots to beets, but after I noticed the plethora of dressings. Over a dozen sat in tall plastic bottles, but there was also a tray filled with a house made blue cheese, complete with actual chunks that melted into the creaminess of the rest of the dressing, a smooth counterpoint to the various crunches from that salad.

The options continued with an assortment of meats. Shredded chicken, ham, and mini shrimp were added to my now loaded plate. Salad ended with pre-made salads with noodles, quinoa, and potatoes, but there was still five separate soups to try before checkout. This entire array set’s one back less than $10, and you can go back and refill to your heart’s content.

With a selection that large, it’s easy to overfill the plate, creating a panoply of flavors that no longer harmonize. My personal favorite combination had a base or arugula and field greens, providing a slightly bitter under note. Topping the greens were beets and dried cranberries for sweet and tart components, shredded chicken for body, chopped almonds for a different kind of crunch, and the aforementioned blue cheese dressing for a creamy and slightly pungent finish. The butternut squash bisque I preferred was a smooth and buttery (without being heavy from cream) pair to the plate.

However, the purpose of the lunch was not to stuff my face with as much vegetation as I could, but rather to catch up with an old friend, which we did, sharing stories and adventures from our lives over the past six months since we last met. Were I a downtown Minneapolis worker, Macy’s Skyroom would certainly be a go-to spot.

Graham’s Gastronomy – The holiday spirit wrapped in a corn husk

The holidays mean many things to many people. However, I believe that regardless of faith (or lack thereof), ethnicity, or background, everyone enjoys getting together with friends (and for some, family) over good food. Last Sunday was the annual tamale making party hosted by a dear friend of mine. Food forward friends came, arms full of margarita making concoctions and sumptuous sides.

The real work had been done in advance by the hostess, a pulled pork in chile sauce ready to go. Having dawned her apron and rolled up her sleeves, she dove in, elbows deep into corn masa. This particular variety is made from hominy, mixed with an alkaline solution, cooked, steeped, washed, then ground (thanks Wikipedia). I poured the brown/red juices into the white/yellow meal, gradually thinning the paste. With a hypnotic repetition of mixing, the masa took on a pinkish hue and a smoky smell. With a taste, a satisfied chef summoned the cooking compatriots, lining us up to fill the husks.

Spatulas slapped masa into the dried corn case, spreading the paste to the edges, leaving enough room for the fold. These were handed down to the fillers, adding a dollop of the chile infused pork, another pass added an olive, and the final station folded and placed the resulting packing into the steamer basket. The whole while, margaritas and wine glasses were refilled, jokes were made, and artificially heavy critiques on “proper form” were given.

Like a Japanese rice ball, we unwrapped the leaves, steam wafting up from the now cooked tamales. The aroma of corn mixed  with the spices from the peppers and the robustness of the meat. The masa had firmed, but was still soft, providing a creamy background that matched the shredded pork.

The comradery continued, even into cleanup as guests left with a few extra tamales of their own, another part of our gracious hostesses’ tradition. 

Graham’s Gastronomy - Love is Breakfast

It starts as a low-volume chime. As the seconds pass, the beeping becomes higher pitched, louder, and more obtrusive. Roused from sleep, I lean over, half blindly groping for my phone to dismiss the alarm. “Time to make the donuts…” my girlfriend whispers in my ear, kissing me good morning. That’s funny, because unlike me, she doesn’t wake up hungry.

The other day, we attended a party bringing a mulled cider. We juice the apples ourselves, autumn’s bounty still filling my fruit bowl. Auburn liquid removed, the catch basin of my juicer was filled with the pulp of what until recently where red, green, and yellow orbs of crunchy goodness. To many, this is trash, to some, compost, to others, dog food, to me, another ingredient.

Moist mash plopped into the mixing bowl with a wet splat. An egg provided moisture and with flour, became a binder, oatmeal for body and heartiness, a pinch of salt to heighten the flavor, and just a splash of milk to bring the dough together. The evenly spread mixture transformed from dough to confection under the 350⁰ heat coils of my toaster oven. A tiny slice popped into my mouth, the oatmeal had toasted nicely, but without the juice, the apple flavor wasn’t as pronounced. Cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, brown sugar, these spices are typically used with apple concoctions, but with the seasonal fare, my palate is growing weary of that combination. A remembrance of The Big E brought inspiration. A layer of apple butter provided the intense fruit flavor, while thin slices of reserve cheddar brought sharpness, salt, and creamy tastes. Back under the broiler, the cheese melted and toasted, sealing the spread adding another flavor of blistered nuttiness.

Wrapped in foil, my “NutriGraham” bar slid into her backpack, another culinary token of my affection.

Foods From Afar – Deck the Halls at Seneca Lake

The fall foliage has given up its colorful cloak, leaving the trees gray skeletons of their former selves. From early Friday morning, London and I drove west under a gunmetal sky. Our destination was the middle of the Western shore Seneca Lake for the Annual “Deck the Halls” Wine Festival. Participants purchase passes that allow a wine tasting, paired with a small bite, along with an ornament to adorn an accompanying wreath at each of the 35 participating wineries. At every stop, we were usually allowed 3-5 tastes in addition to the sweet or dry parings with the food, meaning in total, we have approximately 350 wines to taste over the course of three days. Cheers to that!

The Fingerlakes Wine Region has a unique beauty. Slowly slanting hills escalate from both sides of the lakes. From the North, one cannot see the Southern tip, but you can easily see the West side from the East. At this time of year, the grapes have already been harvested, so the vines are bare, still trussed in manicured rows. Most wineries along the trail boast broad views from decks and windowed vistas where we took a picturesque reprieve from the bustle of the tasting rooms.

There are a few grape varietals that appear more commonly on menus in the Finger Lakes than other places. One such, Cayuga, a hybrid of Schuyler and Seyval Blanc, produces a balanced acidic white wine. The bright, lemon or white grapefruit flavors moderate the sweetness. Wines made from Cayuga are usually served chilled, and the medium mouthfeel could stand up to fish, or for me, enjoyed in warmer months with sun and a grill.

Even if we split the task evenly, and even if we spat out every wine we sipped (we did neither), the tumult of tasting will tire even the toughest taste buds. There were however, some memorable highlights to the weekend. Three Brothers was our favorite winery. They feature four separate experiences. We moved from Passion Feet, a down-to-earth barn environment with fruity, sweet wines, to Stony Lonesome, more traditional, almost an Italian feel room with granite countertops presenting dryer and more complex wines, to Bagg Dare, an Appalachian back yard with rusting car parts and wood pallets decorating the walk, pouring semi-sweet wines and back woods vibes, finally War Horse Brewing, all 1950’s WWII “We can do it!” and “We want you!” posters with hard ciders and on-tap beers.

While there were many delicious wines, the one that stood out the most for us was served hot. The mulled wine was a combination of red and white house wines, mulling spices, brown sugar, and a splash of brandy. Spices lit up my nose as I swirled the wine in my glass. Initial sweetness came as expected, but the light burn from the brandy hit he back of my palate, evening it. The liquid felt thick in my mouth and left a warming trail down my chest as I swallowed.

The entire weekend was an intoxicating soiree. We accomplished sampling every winery on the list, collecting ornaments and memories from each, and wine from a select few.

Graham’s Gastronomy – The Inevitable End of a Jack-o-lantern

The breeze that only a month ago cooled, now chills as you walk down the street. On front porches, the wilting, orange forms of carved faces beckon the change of seasons. The poor, mangled vegetation sits in wait to become either food for local fauna, garbage, or worst, a splatter on the street. These ash-encrusted pumpkins have lost their culinary value, but my former jack-o-lantern, lit with a flashlight, now lies in pieces, at 400⁰, and lightly slathered in butter and salt.

                To me, pumpkins are the harbinger of fall. The ubiquitous use in coffees and baked goods, more often than not as a flavored syrup, only serves to dilute the delicate nature of the gourd (although those that know me have seen me guilty of ordering the sugar and spice laden latte). A cloud of steam fogged my glasses as I opened the oven door to reveal the roasted slices. Having cut them smaller, the numerous edges had caramelized, which would provide a darker color and richer flavor to the final product. As I scooped the flash from the peel, the pumpkin had become soft and pliable in my hands, but not sticky or gunky. The work bowl of my food processor was filled and emptied multiple times as the blades rended the cooked flesh into an unctuous puree. As though I was baking cookies, I couldn’t help but sample the supple, dark orange pulp the stuck to the spatula.

                It was intentional, leaving out spices from the cooking process, as I wanted as pure of a pumpkin flavor as I could to leave open as many culinary doors as possible. To this end, not all of the former jack-o-lantern was pureed. I was challenged to compose a pumpkin salsa, and so the slices destined for that dish were removed early and cubed. Crisp apple played the role of tomato and sweet onion was substituted for white or yellow. The subtlety sweet pumpkin brought more of its vegetative nature to the mix, the entire salsa having a crunch akin to a slaw which topped shredded chicken for dinner.

                The next morning, the puree was dolloped into a bowl and whipped with two eggs, milk, cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger and a dash of salt. The resulting thick, yellow-brown soup smelled of bread potential, but that would be another day. Once the pad of butter’s sizzling aroma turned nutty in the hot pan, the egg mixture was poured evenly in. With the slow wrist rotation of omelet creation, the concoction congealed and with a flip, the frittata was finished. A spoonful of honey-infused greek yogurt graced the center, it’s cool, creamy, tart flavor contrasting with the heavy, spiced pumpkin. Both mingled and melted in my mouth as I melted into the couch, lounging in a weekend breakfast.

                I was inspired by the egg and pumpkin combination, so for dessert the next day, I used the creamy fat from eggs yolks with the literal creamy fat of half and half to make a crème brulee. After the dairy had finished cooling from its steep in spices, it was combined with pumpkin, sugar, and egg yolks. Soupier than before, I was tempted to dip bread into the mixture, foregoing the custard in favor of another breakfast, but the 300⁰ oven with a water bath won out. After 30 minutes of cooking and another 30 of cooling, I dusted the shimmering skin of the custard with sugar. I find the ‘click’ and ‘fwoom’ sound of a culinary torch satisfying, so to the hissing of the bubbling, caramelizing, sugar. Once allowed to harden, my spoon penetrated the surface with the accompanying distinct crack. I could feel the smallest slivers of pumpkin through the silky crème along with a slight crunch from the burnt sugar as my tongue pressed against the roof of my mouth. Who knew that ghastly face would eventually bring a grin to mine?

Nosh Out – NYCFWF

For the past five years, in the middle of October, I hop on a bus and head to New York City for the annual Food Network Food and Wine Festival. A fundraiser to support No Child Hungry, local chefs, restaurants, wine distributors, along with Food Network Stars donate their time, skills, and food for the enormous four day affair. There are dozens of events from sit down dinners, seminars and instructional classes to walk around tastings and late night parties. My weekend started Friday night at the Blue Moon Burger Bash.

This event is iconic, hosted by Rachel Ray. Burgers of all grinds, meats, and toppings were paired with seasonal beers and wines. To be honest, after a while, the fat-ladden, rich ground meat became difficult to distinguish. What set burgers apart from one another was the toppings and pairings. My personal favorite was a dry aged burger with maple bacon and bone marrow béarnaise from Saxon + Parole. “I wanted something that was unctuous on the tongue, but wasn’t cheese.” said the Chef. The marrow was pureed in a food processor before adding the egg yolks, giving it a smooth texture. The maple bacon added a crunch (it was cooked crispy like it should) and a salty sweet component. The burger itself was actually playing second fiddle, providing a smoky and filling portion to the mouthful. Delicious.

Saturday was the biggest event by far, The Grand Tasting. The gastronomic extravaganza takes up all of Pier 92, with so many food, wine, and spirit samples, it would be almost impossible to try them all. Grocery stores, food purveyors, restaurants, and alcohol distributors all man tables from 11-6 on both Saturday and Sunday. With business cards, menus, coupons, and samples splayed out before them, it was a foodie’s dream come true. While the variety of things to try is unparralled, there are some unique bites that stand out, namely the “chicken oyster” from Earth at Hidden Pond. Chef Justin Walker took chicken breast and cooked it with black squid ink, creating a jet black bite swimming in a sauce made with buttermilk and isot chile. The inky morsel sat atop sliced green tomatoes and was topped with sesame seeds, the green, black, and white creating a perfect Halloween mouthful.

Food Network wasn’t the only channel represented. From the same network, Travel Channel brought their star power to bear at Top Dog, a hot dog competition at The Highline on little West 12^th. Andrew Zimmern and Adam Richman were present to chew through the variations on the New York icon. Celebrating 200 episodes of Bizarre Foods, Andrew made an impassioned speech about food bringing people together, creating a common thread. His words truly resonated with me as cuisine is often the way I bond with not only friends and family, but other people and other cultures as well. The dog that had its day was my personal favorite, a brat, cooked to the point of the casing just snapping open, topped with a spicy giardiniera relish, whole grain mustard, and served with a briny, quick cured pickle, it combined smoky, spicy, crunchy and sour with a slight Italian flare uncommon to a usual Sabarette hot dog stands.

Later that night was Pork and Pints, hosted by Robert Irvine, but check my YouTube Channel to see some of the best bites from that event.

Food From Afar - Inca Trail

Vacations are often to get away from it all, to rest, relax, and replenish the body and mind. My idea of a vacation is to load a backpack with approximately 40 pounds of gear and hike for four days along the same path the Incas used as part of their spiritual journey to Machu Picchu. The trek began at 9,200ft altitude at 88 km checkpoint. We started out around 7:30 in the morning, while the porters, carrying the food, cooking appliances, and tents, were still organizing their equipment. We soon learned that these unassuming farmers possessed serious athletic ability, as they would pass us from checkpoint to checkpoint, readying and taking down the campsites. Much of the trail remains original Incan construction, so in an effort to preserve it, only 500 people are allowed per day onto the trail, only 200 of which are tourists. Checkpoints along the way along with steep cliffs, cloud forest, and Andean Mountains prevent would-be trail crashers.

The majesty of the Andean Mountains is difficult to describe in words. Rather than being a single range, it looks like enormous mounds, covered in scrub, or jungle, or shear rock faces, were arranged at random next to each and seem to go on forever. The Inca trail itself describes a tiny line along their facades, passing at its zenith, Dead Woman’s Pass at 13,829 ft. a feat my group of six trekkers, two guides, and seven porters achieved on day two of the hike. Incan ruins periodically appeared from the forest or fog, displaying terraced gardens amongst stone and mortar construction. Just the thought of hauling that amount of materials up the slopes of these mountains was daunting.

After hours of breathtaking scenery, we came upon our campsites. The porters-turned-cooks had already constructed the eating tents and set the table. Dinners were always prefaced by tea time, where we sipped coca tea and munched on freshly made popcorn. Lunch or dinner, we were perpetually amazed at the quantity, plating, and quality of Peruvian food that was created from little more than a camp stove. Carrots, cauliflower, peas, onions, potatoes, corn, and pasta/rice were present at almost every meal. These were often presented in a variety of combinations, a fried rice with peas onions and carrots, a mashed potato topped with boiled corn, we even had a few “pizzas” made with a mashed, then fried potato base and topped with vegetables and queso andines.

Every meal was also accompanied by a protein. Peru is not known for its cuts of beef, and considering the conditions, I wasn’t expecting a seared rare fillet. That said, the chicken dishes were clean and flavorful, often using the carrots, onions, and celery along with tomato in different quantities to create a vegetable puree, sauce, or filling. We were happy to know that the enormous portion sizes were intentional, as the porters ate what we did not.

While dessert was often another round of coffee or tea before we crawled, exhausted, back into our tents, we were not without dessert. On two different evenings we enjoyed a warm, soft-set jello, the first flavored with a peach syrup, the second with purple corn, giving it an almost berry flavor. They say “hunger is the best spice,” but much of the food on the trail would be delicious anytime.

Our trek concluded on the fourth day, as we met the sunrise at the sun gate, overlooking Machu Picchu. Our group, along with the others who had made their way across the ancient path, shrugged off our bags for pictures of elated celebration at our achievement.