Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Halloween treats

This was my mom's very first pumpkin carving experience. It was pretty adorable.


The happy one is mom's.

Every October between the 5th and 10th grades, my friend Maile and I would carve pumpkins. Her mom would take us to a patch on a Saturday, pick out a pumpkin, go back to her apartment and set up shop. Newspaper on the kitchen table and a couple of blunt knives... We got to be pretty good at carving teeth and circles by year four. I've since lost touch with my friend, and haven't carved a pumpkin since, yet have had the hankering to many times.

In the past month, the carving itch was especially prevalent. I decided we needed to make up for our pathetic Halloween performance from last year: One year ago today, we were moving into our new house, moving trucks in the driveway, big dudes lugging furniture in the front door and everything. Before I remembered to turn off the light over the front door, the doorbell rang and two adorable kids simultaneously opened their bags and chimed, "Trick or treat!" Trick, I guess... our kitchen was completely empty and the only meal I'd eaten in the house was a salad from Chick-Fil-A (which I ate sitting on the floor as we had no furniture yet). I had no choice but to apologize profusely and tried to make up for it by telling them they were cute. I had visions of the kids crying to their parents and the parents passing on the word that we suck.

This year I'm determined to make our house a Halloween hot spot. And by that I mean people won't be pointing at our house and telling their neighbors, "They're mean to children." Mom and I went pumpkin shopping at a patch on a church yard this past Sunday, and bought two big pumpkins, one medium pumpkin, three tiny pumpkins and a funny squash that looks like something that gnomes would choose to live in. I picked one of the big ones for me to carve and the medium one for my mom.

Our Halloween treats? We saved the pumpkin seeds and roasted them in a little butter and salt. 300F in the oven for about 45 minutes did the trick. Mmmmmm...

Tuesday, September 04, 2007

The Northwest calling

With a little encouragement from loved ones, I feel I'm due for something new on the Ingrid food front. I've spent the last week and a half in the sunny Pacific Northwest: Portland for an amazing wedding and a migration to Seattle last night to spend QT with the siblings. In the year and a half since I was last in Portland and the two years since my last Seattle jaunt, the Northwest seems to have exploded with some incredible joints that are both deliberate and simple, creative and adorable and a spankin' good time. The "fashion-forward" versions of cuisine, if I may.

One of the several notable visits in Portland was Pok Pok on SE Division, a version of authentic Northern Thai street food served both sit-down style and a to-go shack. The dining room is situated in creator/owner Andy Ricker's actual residence, and the to-go shack in his driveway. Whatever the situation, the food is got-damned good. The choices are many and quality, and the menu is spattered with bits and pieces of info about Thai cuisine history, Pok Pok's origins, and helpful how-tos for Thai dining habits.

The dishes vary in size from tapas-serving to big plates of succulent meat. Our server was quite insistent, almost too much so, on making our party of eight ladies eat family-style, which ended up being more like sharing in groups of four or so, as some were vegetarians, some had food allergies, and some just preferred otherwise.

Regardless, I didn't try one dish that I wasn't impressed by. More than anything, every bite pretty much erupted (kindly) in my mouth. My favorite was the Yam Plaa Deuk Fuu, a green papaya salad with catfish gaufrette, which was like fresh, citrusy this-and-that topped with a perfectly-fried catfish cake, with the flaky integrity of the fish still intact. The Cha Ca La Vong (marinated catfish on vermicelli) wasn't far behind. The meal bore for me a new appreciation for Thai cuisine, covering all the bases of one of my favorite kinds of meals: undone, non-fussy yet explosive street food.

More than anything, this trip has reminded me that eatin' good remains a high priority. And I could eat coconut rice all day long.

Thursday, June 28, 2007

An Ode to Oatmeal

This is my current favorite breakfast.

Oatmeal with Maple Yogurt and Fresh Peaches
-1 serving oatmeal (NOT instant!)
-1 t. brown sugar
-1 cup of Brown Cow maple yogurt
-1 small peach, cut into bite-sized pieces

Cook oatmeal according to package directions. Stir in brown sugar. Serve in a shallow bowl, drizzled with yogurt and topped with peaches. Say "mmm" after every bite.

If you've never had steel-cut oats, now is the time. You'll never feel the same way about oatmeal. It's worth the premium, and this is how so many fancy breakfast places get away with charging six bucks for a bowl of oatmeal (I'm pointing at you, Portland...). Whatever you use, don't use instant! There's all sorts of junk in instant oatmeal that deserves not to be in our bodies.

The farmer's market has some wonderful peaches right now. Strawberries and blueberries are great too.

I like using our white salad bowls with the big rims. It makes me feel like I'm at my own little bed-and-breakfast.

Sunday, June 03, 2007

Dining in Greensboro, and a plea for Muse Restaurant

Bear with me, Greensboro diners, you may just find this read worth your while. Alternately, it may offend. Your choice.

So I'm not going to lie. My frustration with the dining situation in Greensboro is getting steadily worse by the day.

Said frustration, however, does not lie in the variety of restaurants in the area, although I will admit Greensboro could do better. What riles me up more than anything else is the kind of diners that Greensboro is famous for. Call me judgmental, but it's difficult to think otherwise when a voters for local weekly's "Best of" list awarded first place for best fries to McDonald's, and runner up for best local sushi to the freaking refrigerated plastic packages at local supermarket chain Harris Teeter. My sentiment is the same as the Weekly's staff's: "Excuse me? Harris Teeter? Harris Teeter?" I'd like to add a "What the %!*$?" and a "Oh hells no" for good measure.

Other more popular reader review sites offer little comfort, though I will say that Citysearch gets it a little more right, with plenty of restaurants unique to Greensboro making the list. TripAdvisor, usually one of my "go-to's" for reader reviews of hotels and restaurants, is much worse, with Red Lobster, Applebee's and Olive Garden all in the top 15 most popular local restaurants.

Could it be a result of the overwhelming quantity of chain restaurants in the area, or an issue of local restaurant quality? I would argue that Greensboro, although certainly not a mecca for fine dining, has quite a few gems tucked in between the chains. In fact, if you discount the garbage pile of chain restaurants that is the intersection of Wendover and I-40, restaurants unique to Greensboro are quite easily found. Bistro Sofia, Noble's and Marisol, for starters, are all excellent venues. My favorite Asian restaurant in Greensboro, Taste of Vietnam, is buried in a strip mall next to a Staples. Get the Caramel Short Ribs in Clay Pot; you'll think you're in another world altogether.

Sure, there are plenty of places that aren't worth the bad parking and poor service, but I often wish that locals were more willing to give small spots a chance, and stop clogging up the parking lots of Olive Garden and P.F. Chang's. One might argue that Olive Garden and Red Lobster are, in fact, pretty decent, and P.F. Chang's is classy, authentic fine dining. I'd argue that this is total garbage. I'll save the specifics of my vitriol towards P.F. Chang's and their dumb cement horses for another day.

That gets me to the issue of the quality of the diners themselves. Many people in Greensboro rarely venture outside of the city for any purpose, so in a way it's understandable that a vast majority of people think that cheese-globbed tacos at Mexico Restaurant or General Tso's chicken at P.F. Chang's or hibachi-grilled teriyaki chicken at Sapporo's are "authentic" ethnic dishes. But to even suggest that there are more authentic versions of these cuisines is like taking a giant poop on the conservative south's feelings. Anything outside of their comfort zone is completely unacceptable. I mean, Chinese people eat General Tso's all the time, right?

What makes me the absolute saddest, however, is the fact that really good restaurants sit nearly empty while there's a 70-minute wait at the nearby Pretty Foul Chang's. I'm thinking specifically of a small restaurant called Muse that occupies a small space in a very large shopping center-slash-complex. Muse has been open for less than a year, I believe, and every one of the seven visits I've taken there has been nothing short of impressive, if not spectacular. Service is unusually attentive and friendly, the creators of the restaurant have clearly paid attention to every detail, and most of all the people who work there seem to actually give a shit about the food and not just the tips.

Not to mention every dish at Muse is so fresh and inventive; often unexpected, even. Their "Brutus" take on the Caesar salad is surprisingly bold, the fish selections are super fresh, the pastas are perfectly savory and the steaks and lamb are always cooked to just the right temperatures. The chef, Mitchell Nicks, has done a fine job of melding potentially intimidating ingredients with traditional Euro-bistro affair, making the menu inviting to even the most uninitiated diners. One of my favorite appetizers is their frogs' legs, which I got a little squeamish about when I first saw them on the menu. Instead of the scary, bare-roasted legs I imagined, they're fried in a panko breading and served with a lemon-caper butter on top of fresh coleslaw. Who knew frogs' legs could be so freaking good? Even the most conventional steak-lover can find tender steak to be served atop a sizable heap of mashed sweet potatoes, with some fresh, buttery veggies to match.

...Which is why I am so baffled by the fact that during the last three visits to Muse, my table was one of two, maybe three tables at the restaurant the entire evening in a room that seats 60+. To be fair, the last visit was on a Monday evening, but the chain restaurants a couple of blocks over had their parking lots packed. During that Monday meal, our server was almost overly-eager to have our patronage, and we got multiple visits from the Chef Nicks, engaging us in pleasant discussions about menu selection, wine varieties and seasonal ingredients, including when and where he finds the freshest fish and vegetables. You get the feeling that he's the kind of chef who would refuse to serve caprese if the tomatoes were underripe, and in fact relayed to us stories of such pickiness (I use "pickiness" in the best sense possible, like the way a parent might be picky about what they feed their kids).

Maybe Muse is too frou-frou for most. Frenchy bistro, after all, hasn't quite made it into the daily lexicon of the average Greensboro diner. Maybe the name is too pretentious for the lovers of Mimi's Cafe. Maybe they're not advertising enough. Or maybe (and this is my best guess) the prices have driven away potential customers. For a five-course meal and a bottle of good wine, plus complementary amuse bouche to begin and chocolate truffle to end, a party of four at Muse might expect to pay about 60 bucks a pop. That's more than what most would pay for, but I've seen fatties dole out serious cash money for a long waits, shitty service and mediocre meals at chain steakhouses (need I even mention Positively Frightful Chang's?).

For all consumer items, food and non-food, I try to buy local as often as I can. Though I love Whole Foods for their variety of (oft-overpriced) organic produce, I adore Deep Roots Co-op for their homespun feel and hippie cashiers who radiate excitement about sharing fresh food and local organics. I struggle with sharing knowledge about fresh ingredients when average American diners want the biggest plate at the cheapest price. "More For Less" is what many Greensboro diners want, and nudging folks towards quality vs. quantity is a bigger struggle than it should be.

I can't help but feel for the Davids in a slew of Goliaths. Especially when the Davids could kick the Goliaths' asses on Iron Chef any day of the week.