Salt Block Onglet

Some shallots and mushrooms cook in the skillet while the onglet cooks on the salt block.

Every once in a while, I will buy something and, for whatever reason, just never get around to using it. Months or years may pass before I remember that, yes, I do have that thing and need to use it.

This wasn't one of those times when years have passed, but it certainly was one that weeks have passed. Back in October, I ordered some Himalayan Salt Blocks from The Meadow in Portland. These are multi-purposed salt blocks that can be used either hot or cold and can impart a saltiness to whatever you're placing on top of them. I had read a bit about them, ordered them and was excited to use them. They arrived at the end of October and I only got to using them today.

There was a piece of onglet from Springfield Farms lying around the refrigerator, as well as some random mushrooms and shallots I had picked up at Belvedere Square several days ago, and all would be put to use.

Cooking with the salt block is a relatively straight-forward affair: just heat it up and cook on it directly, allowing the natural salts in the block to accent the flavor of whatever it is you are cooking. With that in mind, I turned up the electric burner, set the block directly on top and ground some fresh black pepper on the steak.

Meanwhile, I heated up some butter and canola oil in a cast-iron skillet and sauteed the shallots and mushrooms together.

Rockin' the salt block. Okay, not really...

After waiting several minutes, I drizzled some canola oil on the salt block, laid the onglet on top and then...nothing. Damn. The salt block hadn't heated enough to sear the steak. Doom on you, ono-I-don't-know-how-to-sear-the-steak-coffeeguy.

I sucked. And I pulled it off the block and waited for it to heat a little more.

Of course, the side had started to cook and had turned gray. None too appetizing but I pushed forward. In other words, I waited and pretended to tend to the mushrooms for cover.

After a few more minutes, I laid the steak back on the block. Just a little sizzle. But not the sizzle I was expecting to properly cook the steak. Dammit. Again. This time, I decided to push through it and let it do its' thing. It cooked the steak well enough, just without the carmelized crust that makes for a delicious steak.

Onglet and mushrooms.

The steak turned out pretty good despite of my poor technique. Tending towards the "salty" side, I think it would have been better if I had achieved the proper temperature before laying it on the block. The sear and faster cook time would have reduced the amount of salt exposure and, I'm guessing, delivered a steak that was seasoned "just right."

At least next time it should be better...

Burger Bros.

There's a space on Allegheny Avenue in Towson that I've been eyeing for months now. For months, there's been a wing joint that built out the space and kept it in ready-to-open condition. Basically, you just needed to walk in, turn on the lights, heat up the fryers and start making hot wings. There was a "grand opening" sign in the window but nothing ever happened.

I once asked the guys at the bagel shop next door what was going on with the space and they said the wing place had opened for a couple of days then closed and never re-opened since. Just odd.

Recently, someone took over the space and opened a burger joint. My guess is that they're riding on the current hamburger trend that's sweeping the country with places like Teddy Burger and Five Guys all across the East Coast. It's a good trend to follow and one that I had thought about several years ago, just after the Teddy Burger craze hit Honolulu.

Seems that in modern-day America, a good burger is hard to find so any new joint is always worth checking out. With a little time on my hands, I decided to swing by and give Burger Bros a go.

The interior is simple, casual fare with some definite cues from the Five Guys chain - notably the placement and execution of the soda fountain. My choice was simple: bacon cheeseburger with ketchup, mustard, onions, lettuce, tomato and pickles with a Coke and a medium order of french fries.

When it comes to burgers, I like to keep it simple. Let simple ingredients and simple flavors come to life - and while I might enjoy "fancy" cheeses, like Gruyere on my onion soup or some Allegheny Chevre on my baguette, when it comes to a burger, there's only one choice of cheeses: American Yellow. Yes, I know it's processed but there's nothing better for a proper American Cheeseburger. Forget that Swiss or Cheddar crap - only American will do. Only American has that throwback power of the flavors from your youth.

My burger was good. Darn good. The bun was toasted, the beef had decent flavor, they don't cut a solid slice of onion for your burger - just several choice rings that don't over-power the other flavors. The lettuce and tomatoes were crisp and cold. Sure, it's the middle of winter and all of that stuff is probably trucked in from commercial farms in California or elsewhere and sure the beef probably comes from commercial feedlots, but it was tasty and carefully prepared - not just slapped carelessly together like at other burger joints.

The downsides were the Coke and fries. When it comes to fountain-based sodas, one cannot escape the clutches of High Fructose Corn Syrup with it's thick, viscosity coating the mouth and dulling the senses. It's gross and should be illegalized in America. The fries were okay but they weren't crisp, just kinda soggy. The flavor was nice but they lacked the crisp pop that I prefer in french fries.

Burger Bros.
14 Allegheny Avenue
Towson, MD 21204
41-321-1880
www.eatmoreburgers.com

Too Loud To Read

Ever had a day when something occupies your mind to the point that it overshadows everything else? Today has been one of those days. And it's still not over yet.

After last nights' discussion, I thought I wouldn't be able to sleep. I thought I would be overwhelmed. Maybe it's just general fatigue, mental exhaustion or the feeling that I couldn't do any more than I already have, but I slept pretty well considering I don't sleep well at all.

That sleep has led to a full day of a churning mind with thoughts that bang so loudly in my head that I find it difficult to do much anything else. Of course, I did my morning round to see what's missing at The Spro and went to IKEA and Costco on a supply run, but those thoughts were there. How many cases of Vitamin Water? And yes, I did make the right decision. Right....?

The thoughts kept ringing so loudly in my head that I was unable to read The Omnivore's Dilemma or focus on my Enchiladas de Mole at Fiesta Mexicana. There I was, awash in my thoughts and the flavor of the rich Mole in the distant background, undiscernable in the cacophony filling my mind.

In my continuing reflection, I ask myself: Did I do something wrong? Was I untrue to myself? Should I have "played the part"? The answer is: No. I did the right thing. I remained true to myself and what I believed. I kept my intentions and goals clear throughout. I refused to lie and "play the part." That's not what would have been real.

In the end, I'm unhappy, dissatisfied and saddened by the outcome. I hate to lose and while it's not about "winning," I can't help but feel that I'm the one who lost. Perhaps I'm comforted by the fact that I stood my ground and didn't waver from my goals and convictions. That I didn't lie just to "play the part." Comforted? No, it's a shitty deal all the way around.

As much as I would like it to be different, I've been given no other choice than to move on...

Sisig!

The plate that brings me back to a girl on each arm.

A little magic has sprouted in Lutherville once again.

This morning, Gerard called me to let me know that he had taken over the kitchen at Tako Seafood in Lutherville and is now serving a limited Filipino menu. Just some simple dishes like inihaw manok from his native Bacolod to fried pork to the elusive-in-the-United-States-but-ubiquitious-in-the-Philippines sisig. I would be there right after lunch!

Long-time readers of this blog might recall Tako Seafood from Lechon In The Suburbs From Hell. It seems that then Filipino Food Purveyor JoJo left the space six months ago and Gerard took over just back in November.

For the uninitiated, Sisig is a traditional Filipino pulutan, or food meant to be consumed with lots and lots of beer. It's Filipino pub food at its' best. Basically you take pigs' head remnants: snout, ears, whatever, add some pork liver, chop it all up with salt, black pepper, hot peppers and some mayonnaise, toss it into a pan to sear and cook, then toss it onto a sizzling hot plate and top with a raw egg just before you take it out to the table of rowdy party people in Manila.

The end result is chewy, crisp, caramelized, smooth, rich and oh so delicious - especially with San Miguel Beer (or my favorite: Cerveza Negra). The hot plate crisps the ear and snout pieces so there's a bit of crunch and the egg cooks while coating everything in its' whites and imparting that rich yolk like a sauce. The Scottish wax poetic about their Haggis, the Filipino can't get enough of Sisig.

It's something I've always loved from my times living in Manila and it's the realization of a dream to have it sitting in front of me here - so close to home. The only thing missing was the beer.

The nice thing about Gerard is that he subscribes to the belief that thin people do not make good cooks. He's a big guy who loves food, loves to eat and loves entertaining friends. Ever since I've known him (back when I was chasing Thea), he's always been surrounded by an aura of happiness, friendship and food. Just an amazing person and now he's fulfilling a new mission to bring authentic Filipino cuisine to our little locality.

But how was it? Was it everything I remembered and hoped for? Did it bring back those old times being in Manila's clubs, drinking beers and partying with friends with a girl on each arm (and I do mean that literally)? Was there magic dancing on that plate?

It's a yes and no kind of answer.

I don't know how to make sisig. It's something foreign to me. But Gerard's recipe brings back those old memories but with a couple shortcomings - all of which are due to his yet-to-be-developed techniques. First off, he's new to the professional kitchen. He's still working on their systems and methodologies. Making a dish at home is fairly simple. Making a dish in a professional environment is something completely different.

First off, the saute pan wasn't hot enough when he started (I know this because I hung out in the kitchen while he prepared my meal), so it didn't sear the meats right at the start. Then the cast-iron sizzling plate was neither seasoned well enough or pre-heated enough so when he dropped the sisig onto the plate, it didn't sizzle and crisp the bits and pieces - and that's the key moment for perfect sisig.

The sisig was good. It just wasn't perfect. They're working out the kinks, and once they do, I think they're going to do a killer job and I will be back in Lutherville, lining up for more sisig with a bottle of Cerveza Negra in hand.

Resolution: Eat More Chilaquiles

Ode to Chilaquiles - eggs, bacon, tortilla chips, onions, crema and salsa rojo.

While I'm typically against New Years' Resolutions perhaps there's one I ought to consider: a pledge to eat more Chilaquiles in 2008.

This is a shot of my first Chilaquiles of the new year. I had been thinking about making chilaquiles for a couple of weeks but I've been lazy to buy the ingredients and cook them up. Actually, I did go out and buy some tomatoes, I just didn't feel like boiling the water to peel them. Yes, I know I'm not being dedicated to the craft. I know, I know.

As I was digging through the freezer, looking for some chicken stock to use for chilaquiles, I spied some salsa rojo para chilaquiles I had made and frozen back in October waiting for my return. there were four pints of the stuff - a triumph!

After a night in the fridge defrosting, it was time for chilaquiles to make a return. I had some chips from Tortilleria Sinaloa lying around the house, fried up some Springfield Farms bacon and eggs, smothered the chips with the salsa rojo, sliced white onions, Mexican crema and crumbled queso fresco. Serve with some French-pressed Hacienda La Esmeralda Panama coffee from Paradise Roasters and all is good in the world.

Top Ten Restaurant Meals of 2007

Everyone seems to be coming out with their Top Ten Lists and I thought I might as well be a joiner. Here are some of my favorite meals and places to eat from my 2007 Adventures:

1. per se - New York, New York
2. Woodberry Kitchen - Baltimore, Maryland
3. El Bajio - Mexico City, Mexico
4. Tsukiji Market - Tokyo, Japan
5. El Vip Sito - Mexico City, Mexico
6. Charlie Trotter's - Chicago, Illinois
7. Alinea - Chicago, Illinois
8. Castelli Restaurant - Addis Ababa, Ethiopia
9. Sanuki No Sato - Gardena, California
10. Edelweiss - Frankfurt, Germany

Dos Double-Odd Seven

I've been waiting three months to write this:

Two Thousand Seven.

As I alluded to in Portafilter.net Podcast #74, this past year was a tremendous one for me. A time of both personal and professional development and discovery.

It's hard to recap a years' worth of living in a few words. So many highlights. So many experiences. It really overwhelms the mind. Perhaps the best way is just to go through my year chronographically. Oddly enough, much of what's transpired has been documented on these pages so I can't make any of it up.

JANUARY
The New Year started off in Toronto, around friends, and a bit differently than we anticipated. The usual formal, sit-down, plated multi-course meal with just a few had turned into a New Year's House Party with chips, dip, buffet and a large group of friends. Soon after, I would find myself in Montreal staying at the posh Hotel Gault, visiting Nathalie, eating serious French, getting schooled in the markets and waltzing around old Montreal seeking Provencale soaps in balmy 50 degree weather.

From there it was down to Vermont to visit Ben & Jerry's, that old playground in Burlington, Mane Alves in Waterbury, Ray & Gesine at their new confectionery market, and shop for serious Vermont dairy products at the co-op in Montpelier then trying to drive it all the way home in the still balmy 50 degree weather.

FEBRUARY
While Valentine's Day is the holiday I usually spend alone, I was glad to be away in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia to attend the East African Fine Coffee Conference and serve as a judge for the first Ethiopian National Barista Championship. Visiting Africa was an amazing experience. A land filled with juxtapositions and conundrums floating on a layer of a bright and hopeful populace. A definitive Third World country but one where I felt comfortable. It's perplexing and mind-boggling. So much so that It's nearly impossible to put it into words.

It was in February that The Spro began its' long and slow march towards refinement and improvement - without me really knowing it. It was the month that we eliminated the 20 ounce paper cup from our offerings. It was also the month that Daryn Berlin introduced me to Spike Gjerde. Towards the end of the month was CoffeeFest Chicago. An exciting trip not because of the trade show or the Great Lakes Barista Competition but, more importantly, because I was finally getting out to see "the best" strut their stuff by dining at both Charlie Trotter's and Alinea on consecutive nights.

MARCH
The month of March was a relatively quiet one for me with no real travel except a trip to Macungie, Pennsylvania for the Mid-Atlantic Regional Barista Competition where I took Third Place. A step down from 2006's Second Place finish but I guess not too bad for someone who didn't practice and came up with a signature drink at the last minute. And pretty good for someone who copped out in the Finals Round with an old signature drink that took absolutely no creativity whatsoever. Of course, the drink I wanted to use, a roasted corn gelee-based drink, I held back on because, in a flash moment of desire to win, I went with an old standard: the definition of Lame.

My trip to Alinea also inspired me to order the AntiGriddle from PolyScience. It was expensive but they said it would take a month to make it so I had time to save. Or so I thought.

On the Spro front, my new friendship with Spike was beginning to take shape in the form of my resistance to his "sourcing local" trend. Sure I cast myself as a "lover of food" and pretended to have a knowledge of food to my friends but the reality is that I was and am still a Charlatan. A Quack. Why should I spent $5.50 a gallon for this local milk when Shenandoah's Pride is $3.15, is rock-solid consistent and I can order it on demand any day of the week? Plus, we make our own syrups using some of the best flavorings available - why change? If Cho's (of murky coffee fame) isn't changing - why should I???

APRIL
My birthday is on April 1st and the girl I had been seeing had been promising me a dinner at L'Auberge Chez Francois in Great Falls, Virginia. I had been hearing many nice things about the restaurant and was really looking forward to it. One thing I don't like to do is be too demanding about "gifts" like this, so I didn't mention much about it while waiting for her to set the date and book a reservation. Of course, over the past month, she was getting back into her church (a Christian one) that proceeded to reiterate that she was a sinner, which meant that our relationship was coming to an end. So much for the dinner at L'Auberge...

April also marked the arrival of the AntiGriddle and its' resultant implosion of the bank accounts. The AntiGriddle would go on to become my professional nemesis: great invention or white elephant? I still haven't decided. It's racked my brain. I want to implement it in the daily menu but I'm not developing anything that I'm super-excited about. Just another example that the more steps I try to take forwad, the more I realize I'm still a Charlatan.

By this time, Spike's Artifact Coffee was in full-swing. Finally, a place where I can go to hang out and hide out from my staff. Coffee as good as The Spro. But what's this??? An approach better than The Spro??? Handmade chocolate sauce and syrups made by hand and flavored with actual ingredients instead of extracts and flavorings??? This is an approach better than The Spro and this is intolerable!!! And so the march towards improving and refining continues but I'm still not sold on the local milk being more advantageous than Shenanoah's Pride (even though I can't seem to locate a website for Shenandoah's Pride).

MAY
Springtime in the coffee business means only one thing: the Specialty Coffee Association of America's Annual Conference and Exhibition. The time when the industry gets together to see just what's going on in the world. It's also the United States Barista Championships and I make quite a splash with my heavy metal and hip hop presentation that, quite literally, rocks the house and of which I'm promptly eliminated. I haven't missed the Semi-Finals since my first time in 2004. It's embarrassing - especially since it's the only time anyone from my family has been there to watch (my brother and sister-in-law are in the audience and get to watch me be eliminated).

Of course, I'm not overtly concerned with winning but I do hope that it's memorable. The problem is that Tatiana Becker's Sorority Ruch presentation has caused such a furor that everyone's attention is on her (she is more attractive than me) performance. This also means that my signature drink (of which I'm quite proud) has been overlooked as well. It's a bit of a buzzkill but I've accepted that I've been beaten.

But to add insult to injury, I notice a certain Mexican girl volunteering for the USBC and attempt to make small talk with her. She promptly blows me off. Does she not know who I am??? Who I'm with??? Before starting my presentation, I'm hoping she's in the audience watching because I'm sure she'll think I'm some sort of "Rock Star Barista" and want to chat with me later (or at least be open to chatting with me). It wouldn't be until months later that she would tell me that she hated my presentation. Ouch. I really am a Charlatan.

I'm also off to Chicago for the National Restaurant Association Show. It's an immense show and I'm bummed to be a day late and now have missed meeting Thomas Keller and Grant Achatz personally at the PolyScience booth. Otherwise, it's a great show. I spy the new glass-fronted undercounter refrigerators I'm going to have for my new shop (whenever that happens). During my trip I get a chance to re-acquaint myself with Chicago Chop House and Doug of Hot Doug's.

May also meant the demise of The Nail Salon Project. It's probably a good thing because the landlord would later show his true colors when a local cabbie I know tells me that one of his fares just told him that he's opening a coffee shop in that same space.

JUNE
My resolve is finally starting to crack in the face of Baltimore's Philosopher King continuing dialogue on why local is better. If improvement is a continuing process, where does that leave myself and The Spro? The time for walking the talk has come and I start tasting and exploring a new world.

The rest of June is pretty quiet. I sit at home. I work at The Spro. I have no idea of the adventure to come. The year has been progressing smoothly and I'm starting to think more about food and the ingredients we use. My first venture with fried chicken was an interesting one. One filled with flavors not found in commercial chicken. I'm teetering on revelation. I'm also dreaming of a return visit to Honolulu but realize that it's still pretty far off yet.

JULY
We really start getting into things in July. I do something that I haven't done in over ten years: I host a proper party. This time, it's a Fourth of July party and order up a whole pig to make Lechon over an open flame. It turns out pretty well but we need to refine our technique. Fresh french fries are on hand and I've set up an outdoor kitchen to make it happen. Everyone brings a potlock item and pretty soon we're up to our gills in food. Some of the guys break out their arsenals and stage a fireworks display to rival that of the neighboring Oregon Ridge Park's professional show.

Once again, we wage an annual battle known as Artscape with some of Jay's Shave Ice old strong arms and some new restaurant mercenaries who have come for the weekend to wage a war of ice and flavors under the hot, July sun in front of weekend of two million visitors. It's comforting and amazing to watch and I'm proud of each one of them.

July is also filled with visits to Trickling Springs Creamery, Mount Airy Meat Locker and Locust Point Farm, where I'm covered in a haze of death and flesh - and I like it.

It's also the month where I decide that, indeed, The Spro will switch to local milk from Trickling Springs and begin making handmade syrups in earnest. Just before jumping on a flight to Tokyo for the World Barista Championship.

AUGUST
I've returned to one of my favorite cities on Earth. At a time when the U.S. dollar is at an all time low. But it was a helluva time. Lots of friends: old and new. It was reinvigorating for me as a barista competitor because I had developed a low opinion about competitions since my dismal performance in Long Beach. Disillusioned with competitions, meeting people like Nik Orosi from Croatia, Salvador Benitez from Mexico, John Muli from Kenya and Ish from South Africa reminded me what the competitions were all about: camaraderie. It's something I had forgotten in the rush to win that is the United States Barista Championship. Like any competition, there were those at the WBC who were there for the wrong reasons: ego, belitting and beating others. I came to realize again that I don't have the time or energy for that kind of thinking. The baristas I ended up hanging with weren't the favorites of the competition, but they possessed soul and passion that other competitors lacked.

And who was that attractive girl translating for Salvador? Gosh, she looked familiar. Oh, wasn't she the same girl who blew me off in Long Beach this past May? Wasn't I just talking with those other girls? Which ones? I can't remember now that my attention has been diverted once again. Maybe this time she won't blow me off like last time.

Back on the home front I'm experimenting with more food ideas: smokin', grillin' and chillin'. Some of it turns out great. Some of it doesn't. The milk from Trickling Springs is flowing and it's an immediate improvement in our beverages. Of course, the greater cost means that, at some point, we're going to have to adjust our prices accordingly but I'm holding off on doing that to see how the new milk performs.

I spend the remainder of the month at The Spro trying out different flavorings and ingredients from Mexico in an attempt to develop something interesting for the impending Mexican Barista Championship.

SEPTEMBER
If it's September, it must mean Mexico. Okay, maybe not but I found myself in Mexico City for the first time and loving every minute of it. One month I'm in the world's largest metropolitan center and the next, I'm in the second largest. Before leaving, one hears lots of stories about crime, muggings and murder in the Mexican Capital, but I found it to be similar to Baltimore - one of America's most violent and dangerous cities: it's usually limited to certain areas.

The food, the people, the architecture, even the traffic - all wonderful. Of course, there's always the chance that I'm viewing it all with rose-colored glasses and I probably am. Five days with this deep, confusing and magically-flawed girl and I'm ready to shut it all down at home and move (it's really not that hard to shut it all down where you're really just a Charlatan).

The trip was challenging on a multitude of fronts. Working with equipment that we would typically dismiss as "substandard" and within very strict parameters, she's able to wrestle beautiful shots of espresso out of these machines that I struggle with. There's no room for "up dosing" here. The machines are very unforgiving - which means that your technique has to be "on the money" otherwise you end up with crap. Myself and my friends, who are here from around the world for the Mexican Barista Championship, struggle to make it work. She makes it look effortless. Without a doubt, she's a better barista than I am. To make me seem even more like a Charlatan, her company is bigger than mine.

The most surprising, and also the hardest, part of the trip is my realization that her and I are very similar in many ways. It's a good and bad thing because I know how hard-headed, tempestuous and cold-hearted that I can be. I've always been someone that shied away from serious relationships. They were "too hard" and "too much work." I've always kept the girls at a distance. A "long term" relationship in my world was four months - and that was a stretch. Six months? Unheard of. One year? A life sentence.

Suddenly, things were different. A year? That would be a drop in the bucket. A lifetime couldn't be enough. Billy Crystal, in the movie When Harry Met Sally stated: "When you realize that you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible." My intense, immature, megalomaniacal, impatient self wanted to get the rest of our life started yesterday. She, on the other hand, isn't in much of a rush, which is just how I used to be. Poetic justice, perhaps?

But September wasn't all about Mexico (okay, it really was), I did manage to visit Toronto and serve as a judge for the Canadian National Barista Championship. That was a good trip where I learned more about competitions as a judge than I ever did competing in them. Not to mention meeting some great and passionate coffee people and finally checking out Michael Empacher's One Red Chair Coffeehouse and Matt Lee's Manic Coffee. The lowpoint of the trip was that I ate some of the worst meals of the year in Toronto.

On the Spro Front, one of the perils of local milk was finally coming into view. Seems to me that the folks at Trickling Springs are a bit, shall we say optimistic about their "use by" dates. If the "use by" date is September 29th, chances are that the milk is turning on the 27th. Not a good thing. And not something that's solved by "turning down" the temperature in the refrigerators. Any colder and the milk starts to freeze.

OCTOBER
For the second month of 2007, October was a travel-less month. A month spent on the home front. No trips to Mexico. No trips anywhere. Just a time to stay at home and refocus our efforts and refine our methodology. It's the month I decided to eliminate the tap from my espresso tamping: a refinement. A time to focus on our syrup-making. A time to review our ingredients. A time to review our costs and pricing structure. A time to prepare a new menu.

October was also the month that I started to roast coffee on the Petroncini The Crumb 3 kilo roaster that Marty Curtis had prepped for service for me back in July. Roasting is a whole new world of discovery and while I think I may have roasted something nice in one batch, I screwed it up completely in the next. How roasters achieve roast consistency from batch to batch is a mystery. In spite of my intention to learn with cheap coffees, I've ended up with the Rancho San Francisco from Chiapas, Mexico and the Idido Misty Valley from Ethiopia - both tasty and exciting coffees in the hands of a craftsman. In my hands? Maybe just piles of burt charcoal...

During this month, things on the food front really started to get frenetic. With Spike, Amy and Nelson about to open Woodberry Kitchen things were really rolling and lots of experimentation were at hand. I even got to try my hand at smoking chipotle chiles for the restaurant - a decidedly exciting event for me.

Then finally, on October 27th, I got to attend my very first Friends & Family dinner at Woodberry. I had always wanted to go to a F&F dinner at a new restaurant but had never known any restauranteurs. This was truly a personal highlight. Thanks guys.

NOVEMBER
The penultimate month of the year rolled in with a continued exploration of food. Mexican and local food had been at the forefront of my mind lately and I had explored some amazing ingredients. Somehow this would translate back to our approach to coffee. The arrival of November also meant that my traveling was about to start again. First with a trip to the Pacific Northwest and then later with visits to Las Vegas and Thanksgiving in Los Angeles.

On November 1st, The Spro eliminated the 16 ounce paper cup to much hatred from our customers. In spite of a brief test run several months ago, the fallout from this move was a major one. One that affected our revenue. The sixteen ounce cup would return late in the month as an off-menu, under-the-counter, for those "in the know" cup for press coffee, and if they really demanded it: a latte for $6.25.

Along with the cup change, we introduced a new, streamlined menu that brought coffee to the forefront, brought our prices in line with our costs and rounded everything to the quarter (including tax) to maximize efficiency. This would be challenged at the beginning of 2008 when the State of Maryland would increase the sales tax to six percent. Bastards.

I would spend most of November on the road visiting friends, family and seeing just how the other great coffeehouses of America "did their thing." It was also a trip to determine how the highly-touted brewing device known as "Clover" could fit into the operations of The Spro and the yet-to-be-named 2008 Joint Coffee Project. After visiting places like 49th Parallel and Elysian Room in Vancouver, Intelligentsia Los Angeles, and a long chat with former Spro barista Glenn McCumber now at Stumptown Annex in Portland, I decided that there was a viable way to implement a Clover (or two) into the approach of the 2008 Joint Coffee Project. Sadly, an unfortunate "conversation" with the founder of the company (that I documented in Portafilter.net Podcast #73) undermined that research and I have decided that the current relationship precludes any of my companies from utilizing the Clover.

DECEMBER
The final month of the year was a relatively quiet one. I finally was able to dine at Thomas Keller's per se in New York City - and it was everything I hoped for, and more. Easily, one of the finest restaurant experiences I've ever enjoyed. I'm ready to go again.

Otherwise, it was a nice month. My thoughts on food, service and our approach to coffee continues and I can't believe how differently I look at the world and our industry than I did a year ago. My tastes and standards have increased and risen to new levels. What was once satisfying is no longer. I want more. I want better. I want to refine and develop. The pursuit of finesse is no longer just an abstract word tossed about by a Charlatan who wants to look good for the masses, it is part of who we are today.

Part of me is no longer satisfied by "good enough." I want it to be beautiful as well. Take a knife, for example. A Henkels Five Star or Dexter Russell are nice knives. They cut well enough, are balanced and do a wonderful job. But is that enough? Where's the beauty? That beauty is in the Togiharu knive that I recently acquired. It cuts beautifully and looks equally as sexy. Craftsmanship and artistry. The same goes for the top end of the Reg Barber espresso tampers. Beautiful, exquisite woods paired with steel. Now if I can only get Reg to make a piston out of the hand-hammered, layered Damascus...

The final moments of 2007 brought reflection. How thankful I am for my family and my friends. They've challenged me and I hope I've challenged them. 2007 brought me many challenges and changes. It was an amazing year. I feel as though I stepped out of the box many times to see if I could handle. Thrown into the deep end, could I swim? I hope I have. I learned in 2007 that I can, indeed, want more than just a light, casual fling. That I want something deep and long-term (in the real sense, not the "Jay sense") - and that is probably the most revelatory thing that's happened to me in my lifetime.

Though, as much as I feel I've learned, I've only learned that I'm still a Charlatan: that I have so much to learn. That the swimming will have to continue, against the tide. I'm excited by this because I want to refine and develop. I see it in our approach at The Spro. It's such a different espresso bar than it was a year ago. The approach has been refined, our ingredients are better, our techniques have changed, our understanding of our ingredients has vastly improved, but we're not done yet.


I won't know for sure until that final moment at the end of my life when they say you see your life play before you like a private movie, but Two Thousand Seven will have to be amongst one of the best. It was an amazing year. A year of both personal and professional development. Each of us learns from our experiences every year but I never imagined a year ago that I would have learned and experienced this much. It's been a wonderful and incredible time and I can only wonder what 2008 has in store.


2008
It's now 2008 and the year ahead is both exciting and intimidating. Intimidating because I don't know where it's going to lead. It's a big mystery. My personal development will continue. The Spro will continue to refine and we're going to create our 2008 Joint Coffee Project that's going to go beyond peoples' expectations for a coffee experience. Heck, it's going to go beyond our own expectations because I still don't have a firm grasp of exactly what it means when we say "a coffee as cuisine experience."

Whatever the course, there's better things to come. Better approaches, more development, better food, better relationships, new friendships and (I'm hoping) more trips to Mexico...

New Year's Eve

This is how I welcomed the New Year. Sitting in a chair in a side room while the rest of the world counted down in the other.

I've never been a big New Year's celebrator. While most people on the planet celebrate the change, I think it's time for personal reflection. Where I've been and where I hope to go. Did I live as best as I could live in the past year? Did I live or just merely exist? What do I hope to achieve in the coming year?

Many people make resolutions. I'm not one of those people. Life is about development, discovery and continual self-improvement. That's what I try to follow and it's been an amazing journey so far. I'm looking forward to what life has to bring in 2008.

But I do resolve to visit Mexico more often this year...

I Am What I Eat?

I was sent this quiz by a fellow Firefly - Serenity fan and just couldn't resist trying. Those of you familiar with the show will remember many of the answers to the questions to be directly from the show. It's fun.

It's interesting and while I am sexy, sensual and skilled - with a serious deficiency in the expressing my emotions department, I do not "swing both ways."


Which Firefly character are you?


You are Inara, the registerred Companion. you are sexy, sensual and skilled, yet have trouble admitting to your emotions. You swing both ways.
Take this quiz!


So give it a try and see who you come up as. Of course, if you're not a fan, or know the show, this will be meaningless.

And while it would have been nice to have the piloting chops of Wash, the weapons and killing skills of Jayne, the mechanical genius of Kaylee, the faux-granite disposition of Mal, the reverence of Book, the medical skills of Simon or the psychosis of River, my favorite has always been Inara.

But, I do not "swing both ways."

El Patron

Chile Rellenos.

I've been wanting to check out the new El Patron Restaurant in Baltimore's Mount Vernon neighborhood for a few months now. It's in the old Tony Cheng's Szechuan space and has a commanding position on Charles Street - oh, how I wish I could have landed that spot.

Finally, Cecilia had some time and off we went. The restaurant occupies what at one point in time was a very expansive mansion. We were able to tour the facility and the detail work is amazing - even though it's covered by years and multiple layers of careless painting. Visions of gutting and restoring the place into my own proper residence danced in my head.

But like I said, it used to be a chinese restaurant and the new owners really haven't done much to change that. The main dining room has been given a blue wash that's reminiscent of Frida Kahlo's house in Coyoacan, but that's about it. Everything still reeks of "chinese restaurant" of which even large, mural-sized prints of Pacho Villa cannot hide.

Mole Poblano.

But I'm not here to worry about the decor. I'm here to sample the food. It's the food that's important. Never mind that the decor is disjointed and discombobulated, or that there's only one guy working multiple roles of host, bartenter, waiter and runner. He's a nice enough guy but he's the only one and that's a bit odd.

Of course, there's someone working the kitchen which means that there's a total of two people running this entire place. Granted it's not a huge night. There's myself and Cecilia. A table of four and a table of fourteen that's celebrating their office Christmas. Maybe twenty people on this Wednesday night. The large group has been here for awhile so hopefully that means the kitchen can focus on our meals appropriately.

Tamales with red and green salsa.

I'd been here waiting for Cecilia for about twenty minutes and availed myself of the bar during that time. Being in Mexican restaurant, one should properly imbibe himself of tequila - and I don't want to be a heretic. A few shots of Herradura, an oddly-sized sixteen ounce serving of something passing itself off as sangrita but tasted more like salsa, a basket of thin tortilla chips and I could have waited another twenty minutes.

Once seated, we were off. At first, the menu scared me. Many of things you think are "Mexican" that you find at places like Applebee's are on the menu: burritos, fajitas, and other miscellany that I don't care to remember. I'm guessing those are there to satiate the masses that think they know what they like. Continue to the back of the menu and you find the "traditional dishes.' It's on that brief listing that I'm warmed by the likes of Pollo Culichi, Enchiladas, Pasta Poblana and Pollo Ranchero.

Since there's only two of us, I can't go off and order in the usual manner (everything in sight). Restraint must be the rule of the day and we ordered: Chile Rellenos, Mole Poblano, Tamales and Flan for dessert.

Flan.

The food was good. Very good. The tamales were two: one in salsa rojo and the other covered in salsa verde. A nice strong corn flavor and just the right amount of spice and heat. Cecilia's family is from Monterrey, Mexico and she found the flavors to be very authentic.

For the main courses, the Chile Relleno was wonderful. Very lightly battered, the pepper was just slightly on the hot side and just delicious. The Mole Poblano was everything I hoped it to be. Sweet, deep, complex and dark. It was just a bit on the thin side, but I really wanted to tear into it harder. Delicate and nuanced. I loved it.

It's hard for me to judge Flan because my mom is a killer Flan baker. Compared to my mom's, this one was thicker. The flavor was good. Light and smooth. But the texture was thick and rich, quite a bit different than the light and delicate, while being very rich, that my mom achieves. It's good. Just different than what I think is the hallmark.

All in all, El Patron is a good place to check out. The food was good. It was authentic. And if you can get past the oddly decorated space, I think you'll enjoy the food.

El Patron
807 North Charles Street
Baltimore, Maryland 21201
410-244-8494
El Patron

The Gift That Keeps On Giving

Let it never be said that I don't know how to wrap.

Let's face it, I'm terrible at giving gifts. I never remember birthdays. I hate holidays. As Christmas approaches, I'd rather be in some far-off place than at home where I'm constantly bombarded with Christmas Carols, Jack Frost supposedly nipping at my nose and sleigh bells jingling. Bah! There's no snow here to begin with anyway.

But since it's Christmastime and I'm not usually such a Scrooge and there's one person who I didn't forget, I thought I would get her a present. Something nice. Something thoughtful. Hopefully, something she'll like. But one can only guess. It could be one of those magical moments that make the impression of a lifetime together in blissful happiness. Or, it could be one of those moments that show her I really have no sensibilities about myself, that we're really not in-tune with each other and a symbol of disharmony and discontent because I really wasn't paying attention to her needs and wants afterall.

Sheesh, so much riding on a simple, little gift. It's exasperating. It's nerve-wrecking. It's a wonder man gives woman a gift at all in today's world.

Finding the right gift is quite difficult. You want to say a lot without saying too much. You want to encourage without being pushy. One step too far and you're off to exile. One step too short and you're banished to "The Friend Zone." And you know which step is worse.

Of course, you don't want to go with the lace and zippered crotch panties with matching toy set at such an early juncture. That would be too far. And for the cynics of this blog: No, I did not go with anything like that. Not even Victoria's or La Perla.

However, I will not be disclosing to you, gentle readers, what's in the box. That's for me to know and for her to find out. None of this "I'll see it on the blog and decide if I'm going to banish him" pre-emptive kind of activity, no sir-ee. I will tell you that it is tasteful and (hopefully to her) thoughtful. It certainly took a lot of gnashing of the teeth on my part to figure out. Not to mention a bit of driving around to find just the right one and the right packaging (gift wrap) for it. And then there was the pre-planning to get it there in time for Christmas.

But I'll just leave you with the mental image of me wandering around the aisles at Michael's Arts & Crafts store comparing tubes of gift wrap and rolls of ribbon - looking for just the right thickness, width, sheen and whether I wanted something wire-supported or not...

Hammered Textured Damascus

This photo does not do justice.

During my recent trip to New York, I finally got to visit Korin - the specialty purveyor of all things Japanese Cooking. Need that weird pan to cook your pork for donburi? They've got 'em. Need a sushi case in stainless steel that's better than a Hoshizaki? They've got those too. How about those fake, frilly grasses in the front of the sushi case? No problem.

But the true reason to visit Korin is for the knives. Gorgeous, incredible and amazing knives made in the tradition of Japanese sword makers. Steel hammered by master craftsmen and honed to a razor sharp finish that one cut throats but now are delicate enough to slice paper thin layers of tuna.

My main reason for visiting Korin was to purchase some sharpening stones for the Aritsugu Yanagi knife I bought in Tokyo this past summer. Great knife, inept chef (me). After chatting with Jackie, the attractive Chinese girl from New York who spent the past several years teaching English in Japan as part of the JET Program, I decided on the 1000, 5000 and 8000 grit sharpening stones and the basic sharpening DVD (since the master whom I came to see was on his day off).

As I wandered around pondering plate, sushi cases, lotus flower molds and whether that nicely shaped cappuccino cup was indeed 5.5 ounces, I spied the knife displays and locked on the Togiharu Hammered Textured Damascus steel Petty knive. It's absolutely gorgeous. Hammered steel that has those layers and a rich, wood handle. Sexy. Never thought I'd say that about a knife but gosh is it sexy!

Next to it was the matching santoku. Oh, temptation. Craftsmanship this gorgeous makes me quiver in the knees and beg for redemption. It's almost as bad as chasing women. And like the woman, one false or careless move and sliiiice! Your blood is everywhere.

But I was here for a reason and that was to buy sharpening stones for the other knife. With those in hand, I couldn't stop staring at the knives. Then I remembered: it's the holiday season and all knives are 15% off. With prices slashed so low, it would be irresponsible of me not to avail myself of the savings!

You know, I like to posit myself as the stoic, cold-hearted, never fearing, manly man that's as hard as a rock. Never wavering under temptation. But it's a lie. Present a twenty-something girl from Mexico City or sexy Japanese knives in front of me and I turn to mushy goo. I can't say no. I don't want to say no. It would be irresponsible of me to refuse.

Within a few short minutes and a swipe of the black card (the MasterCard, not the Centurion card), I was strolling down Chambers Street with a very heavy plastic bag laden with three sharpening stones and both Togiharu knives...

It would be irresponsible of me otherwise.

DAMN YOU, RAID!!!!

About six months ago, one of the hard drives in my Mac started to get wonky. Fearing that I might lose my priceless collection of rare and exotic porn (did I just say that?), I decided to forego the commoners' approach to data storage by replacing that weary drive with two mirror-RAIDed hard drives. What did this mean? It meant that with two drives writing identical data to each, I would not have to worry about losing my precious porn, erm, work files...

Fast forward to present day where I've downloaded hundreds of pictures from my trips to Seattle, Portland, Vancouver, Las Vegas and Los Angeles. It's a photo documentary of some great eating at places like Metro in Vancouver, Sushiwhore.com in Seattle and Mozza in L.A. Wherever I ate that I didn't shoot with the trusty iPhone, I shot with the Canon 350D. Beautiful images of wonderful food.

The piece de resistance was my trip last week to New York City and the famed per se and Babbo. Glorious images of my triumphant victories.

Until a directory error has removed the files from the RAID drives...

So now, I'm stuck. No photos. No files. But the RAID keeps whirring. It happened a few weeks ago when a folder disappeared and I thought it had been deleted. Suddenly, it reappeared on Sunday night as the photos disappeared. So I'm thinking they're somewhere on the hard drive, I just have to find them.

Fear not, gentle readers. I am determined to recover the files and present to you some of the most exquisite eating I've done all year.

It will be a little while though...

On The Edge

It's been a long 48 hours.

Just about 48 hours ago, I jumped on the Amtrak to New York City for a 24 hour nearly non-stop food and eating tour. Prior to boarding the 1:47pm train to New York, I grabbed a ham and cheese sandwich at the train station, chips, diet Pepsi (ugh) and a package of Tastykake Chocolate Cupcakes. Once in New York, there would be a Sabrett hot dog just outside of Pennsylvania Station, a cup of Red Mountain Papua New Guinea coffee at Cafe Grumpy, an exquisite dinner Thomas Keller's per se, a lox and cream cheese toasted everything bagel at Ruthie's, espresso and an americano at Ninth Street Espresso, sharpening stones and knives at Korin, a baked char siu bao at Mei Lai Wah and then an early dinner at Mario Batali's Babbo before jumping on the train back to Baltimore.

Once back in Baltimore it was another late night at Woodberry Kitchen filled with more char siu bao and some peking duck I had brought back with me before heading home at 3am. Up at 8am to open The Spro and I'm just completely exhausted...

Acela

Scenes from the window seat on the 8:20pm Acela Express train from New York to Baltimore. A nice trip. Not too crowded but I should have known the "Quiet Car" was in the front (and not the back like on the regional trains.).

Next time: Acela First Class...

Chug Chugging Along

An okay ham and cheese sandwich with a not okay diet Pepsi on the regional train to New York.

Legally Closed

"The Berlin" and the three types of calamari: Regular, Rhode Island and Thai styles.

Baltimore's Legal Sea Foods will be closing.

That's the word from Nikki about the famous Boston restaurant's Baltimore outpost. They lost their lease and they're going to be out. Soon.

Perhaps it's a good thing then that we ventured to this national chain restaurant (or perhaps not). Legal Sea Foods has an interesting foot note in my life history. Back in 2003, while visiting Boston, I asked a bunch of locals where to go for great "New England Clam Chowder." I wanted the definitive experience. Everyone kept saying "go to Legal." Hmmm.

Here's my problem: I have a hard time going to a chain restaurant at home. Much more when visiting a different city. If I wanted to go to Legal Seafood, I would go to the one at home. It would be like going to Bangkok and only eating at the Cheesecake Factory there. Lame. I don't care that Legal started in Boston. There's got to be some small joint making fabulous chowder and I intended to find it. Which led us to a whole different adventure that I won't go into here.

On Nikki's recommendation: my sample platter of wild salmon, mahi mahi and tuna, topped with scallops.

"The Berlin" was in town on business and after a few terse moments considering Phillips at Harborplace (I am not a fan) and not wanting to leave the downtown area, I suggested Legal or McCormick & Schmick's as options and off to Legal we went.

It's been years since I had been to Legal Sea Foods and it wasn't bad. Not too inspired, but not bad. The three tastes of calamari were pretty tasty, the chowder was just okay and my sampling platter of mahi mahi, tuna and wild salmon was very tasty. Not to the point that I'm dreaming of returning, just good food nicely done.

It was a nice time with an old friend, some good food, interesting chatter, and Nikki even gave me her phone number.

When it rains, it pours...

"The Berlin's" Signature Crab Cake dinner.

Legal Sea Foods - Baltimore (CLOSED)
100 East Pratt Street
Baltimore, MD 21202
410-332-7360

Postcards From Croatia

At the Wing East complex, Shinagawa Prince Hotel, Shinagawa, Tokyo, Japan
From left to right: Salvador, Ana, Francis (in back), Yours Truly, John (just the hand), Nik and John.

Received a bunch of photos over the weekend from Croatian Barista Champion Nik Orosi from our trip to Tokyo this summer. Well, they were mostly photos of Ana and me - okay, they were only of Ana and me, which was very cool. It's interesting to see pictures of yourselves together that you haven't seen before. Reminds me of certain things that happened and brings back the best memories.

While I won't be sharing any of those with you, the Gentle Readers, I thought I would share this group shot on our last night together in Japan. This was taken before the World Barista Championship Barista Party (I can tell because everyone looks sober). We had spent the last five days together and formed new friendships. By morning, everyone would be getting ready to leave Japan and would be heading back to our lives.

There's a special bond of camaraderie that comes from waging war for a common goal. Each barista champion (and their coaches) wanted to win the title and each of them worked very hard in their attempt. None of them came home with the world crown but I thnk we came away with something more: friendships.

Viewing this photo is a bit melancholy for me because chances are that all of us will never be together as a group ever again in our lives. It was just this one moment in time that we would share as a group of friends.

Service Included

In anticipation of this weeks' dinner at Thomas Keller's Per Se in New York City, I stopped by Borders yesterday and picked up Phoebe Damrosch's Service Included, a 226 page tome detailing her year working for one of America's top restaurants.

For me, it's an interesting book. A glimpse into the world of Per Se and The French Laundry. How they do things. The way they think. What makes them "the best." So enthralled I was to read this book that I powered through it and finished it just a few minutes ago. For those interested in the inner-workings of a fine dining restaurant, this book offers that insight and that's where it's strength lies.

However, the latter portion of the book details her burgeoning relationship with Andre the sommelier. At first, it's little details but by the last two chapters, it's entirely about their relationship, their trip to Vermont, their time in a Central Park West diner and the weight of being given a key to his apartment - mostly topics that only hardcore New Yorkers care about and a complete diversion from the core of the book.

Prior to that, it's chock full of insight and stories from Per Se. The training leading to the opening. The trials of the "Friends and Family" dinners. Problematic and quirky customers. The burning down of the house during its' first week of service. For those interested in service, these early chapters are worth the book alone.

Tortilleria Sinaloa

Tamal de Pollo y Carne Asada Taco for Spike.

Down on Eastern Avenue, immediately east of Broadway, is Tortilleria Sinaloa, an authentic Mexican tortilla shop where the tortillas are made fresh and a place that I trek to at least once every two weeks for my stock of fresh corn tortillas and freshly fried tortilla chips.

Today, Spike and I also made it our lunch stop and it was as tasty as always. I'll let the pictures do the talking.

My Tacos de Carnitas and Tacos de Cabra.

The Pozole.

Balto Moco?

After braving the first snowstorm of the year by making kettle korn, we headed back to Woodberry Kitchen where I promptly ordered this "Baltimore Style Loco Moco."

If you're unfamiliar with Loco Moco, it's a Hawaii favorite that consists of steamed white rice, a hamburger patty and a fried egg, all covered in brown gravy. It's delicious if not nutritious and I was in the mood for one.

Of course, restaurants here aren't really equipped to make Loco Moco on the fly but I'm desperate and open to improvise. One order of the pan fried rice (hold the fried egg), one order of hamburger patty cooked medium, stack the patty on the rice and top with the egg. No gravy? Oh well, salt will have to do and what I ate is what you see above. Yum.

Counting In Fives

Something strange in numbers of 5 are happening at The Spro...

Ashland

While I enjoy spending my time reading, researching and eating good food, sometimes "good food" means something a little more "down home." A little more like you ate when you were young. Today was one of those mornings.

Not too far from my house in Cockeysville is the Ashland Cafe. It's a greasy spoon kinda place that serves breakfast all day, has daily specials no more than ten bucks, keeps tasty fried chicken in a warming cabinet, offers Lotto tickets and the ubiquitous "Greek Specialties" that all East Coast diners seem to have. It's been there for years and if you're not seated by 8am Sunday morning, it's going to be a long wait as the place is packed on weekends.

This morning I was in the mood for some American breakfast so off to Ashland I went. They've upgraded the place over the years and while the environs are warm country, it's just a simple eatery with a suspended train track running the perimeter of the small dining room. This past summer, they did some work on part of the exterior and I believe they created outdoor seating in the vacant lot next door, but I haven't eaten in that part.

The coffee here is the typical weak dreck you find in most diners but it's oddly comforting. Add some sugar and a good helping of cream and it's passable - as long as there's a pancake to go with it. My breakfast this morning consisted of their Ham & Cheese Omelet, one pancake, side order of french fries (for texture, of course) and an order of toast (that came with the omelette).

If I was in some sort of "nice" restaurant, I would probably be aghast as the omelette but here, it's perfect. The scrambled egg (most probably from a box) were rudimentary but pan burned brown, the ham was nothing special and the cheese was those yellow American cheese slices that are found in almost every refrigerator. It was decidedly low-brow and blue collar, but damn was it good. Seems that everything tastes good with a serious helping of American cheese on top. Slather some hot sauce over the omelette and it's just brilliant.

The fries were frozen shoestring and done to a nice crisp. Nothing fancy. The toast was a deep brown just as I like it and slathered with butter (again, as I like it). That's a point of note: it's such a treat when the kitchen has taken the time to pre-slather your bread with butter and it comes out melted and dripping. Lovely. None of this messing with cold pats of butter and trying haphazardly to spread it on - especially after it's had a few moments to cool on the trip from the kitchen to your table.

The pancake was nicely done. Soft, airy, fluffy and chewy. Layer on some butter and pour the imitation maple syrup on heavy and you're good to go.

It wasn't "fine dining" but it certainly was soul dining.

The Ashland Cafe
10810 York Road
Cockeysville, MD 21030
410-666-3838

More Fiesta Mexicana

Totopos - nicely done with "real" tortilla chips. Gracias a Dios.

Carne de Res y Queso Quesadilla

My favorite: the Enchilada de Mole.

I Can Neither Confirm Nor Deny

Freshly shucked Rappahannock Oysters at the ready.

If anyone asks me about this in person or outside of this posting, I will deny, deny, deny and my answer will be:

"I have no recollection."

Perhaps I too can become President of the Unted States...

Someone I know came up to someone else I know to ask if this person knew anything about a secret gathering of professionals cooking for each other in some sort of culinary free-for-all. I don't know anything about something like that.

I can neither confirm or deny...

But somehow, I remember having this dream about meeting a few people who worked a big kitchen and made some really fun and interesting dishes. It was a dream that lasted until four in the morning.

Can't really recall the details but I woke up the next morning exhausted and with the sudden knowledge that I now knew how to shuck oysters.

Fresh Ogo flown in from Hawaii.

Rappahannock Oyster with aPonzu Ginger granita topped with Ogo.

Rappahannock Oyster with Portuguese Sausage and smothered in an 'Inamona (Kukui Nut) Cream reduction.

Australian Blue Shrimp with pomegranites, carrots and more.

Ahi Tuna Skewers

Eating Not So Well In Cockeysville

The heavily fried pasteles

I had been hearing rumors about a new Latin market called La Favorita in Cockeysville for some time. Even though I live in the area, my usual path of travel doesn't take me to that part of Cockeysville so I hardly venture there. Anna (of the Library fame not of Mexico fame) recently told me that there was also a new restaurant a couple of doors down and I knew I had to check it out.

I try to favor and patronize small, independent restaurants. It's important to me to support the local businesses and Maria de Los Angeles is definitely small and local. The interior is typical "I've only got a microscopic buget so let's see what we can do" kind of decor. It's just a bunch of stuff gathered together. Nothing matches but there's a large jukebox and television running Univision non-stop.

Unlike what Anna had thought, it's not a "Mexican restaurant" but rather an El Salvadorean restaurant. The menu is simple and basic and the cooking is, well, home-y. Home-y as in the food was like your hapless uncle cooked it kind of home-y and not of the "this reminds me of grandma's cooking" kind.

For my meal, I ordered the pastele which is something I thought was Puerto Rican in origin but is sort of an empanada kind of creation but instead of using masa as the "breading", it uses ground plantains. The Puerto Rican version is steamed in banana leaves while this version is deep fried and served with a tangy cabbage salad. All in all, it's kinda salty and not very well executed. It was definitely fried with a heavy hand.

More heavily fried pork chops. A shame.

Being unfamiliar with El Salvadorean food, I admit that I went for the "safe" item by ordering the fried pork chops. I mean, I like pork and I like stuff that's fried. Pretty safe stuff, I thought.

Unfortunately, I was wrong. It's been a long time since I've been dissatisfied with a fried pork chop but this was definitely one of them. Again, the chops were fried with a heavy hand. Seems to me that these were the same thin cut, cheap chops one finds at the local Shoppers Food Warehouse for sixteen cents a pound. Small and fried to a crisp and just a bit more than salty, they were served with liquid-y beans, perfunctory rice and corn tortillas. Actually, the tortillas were the highlight of the meal, they were pretty darn good.


Maria de Los Angeles
558 Cranbrook Road
Cockeysville, MD 21030
410-628-1164

Jane, Stop This Crazy Thing!!!

There's nothing like eating meat. It can be deep, savory, complex and delicious. It has a texture that no vegetable can ever match - no matter how much tofu you add. I'm not afraid to stand up and be counted amongst the meat eaters of the world.

It was Vanessa's birthday and the decision was made to celebrate her 31st at the new Fogo de Chao Brazilian Churrascaria in Baltimore's Inner Harbor. I had been to the Atlanta Fogo de Chao back in 2004 to celebrate Bronwen Serna's victory at the United States Barista Championship and remember it with fond memories. Now it was time to see if today's reality matches yesterday's memories.

The Clan had gathered once again, occupying a table 16 strong. Most restaurants might balk at such a large party, but no Fogo. They can seat 300 in their dining room and one of the servers told me tonight they would seat about 1200 guests. At $48 a person, that's a minimum revenue just shy of $60,000. For one night.

Not a bad business to be in.

Of course, tonight was a little bit different. The Army-Navy Game was in town at Ravens Stadium which mean absolute pandemonium. I typically hate going out to eat on a Friday or Saturday night and as I pulled up to the valet (or tried to), I remembered exactly why I hate eating out on Friday and Saturday nights. Everyone, their mother, their grandparents, and their sister's best friend's cousin's uncle is out on the town eating as well. Crap.

But I try to be an affable chap and decided to go with the flow. So after a fifteen minute wait for a valet attendant to attend to my chariot, into the restaurant I went.

Inside was also pandemonium. To say the place was packed would be an understatement. Packed and loud. People were everywhere. It was a mad house. I wanted to run. I thought about leaving. But the sign by the door that read: "Please allow our valet attendants 20 minutes to retrieve your car" meant that I was staying.

Besides, I was hungry.

One thing about Fogo is that you should never leave hungry. It is consuming mass quantities of food on a whole new level. Turn your green/red marker over to green and the chefs swarm over you with their swords of meat. For the uninitiated, it's an impressive sight. Hot, glistening meat on large, metal skewers arrive at your table in a continuous wave. Eat as much as you want because there's always more.

There's a decent salad bar in the middle of the main dining room and we headed over to investigate. Unfortunately, so was half the restaurant, which meant a very long line. I hate lines. Oh well, screw the salad, I'm going green!

Back at the table, with my marker set to green, the meat started flowing. At first a trickle. Nice. I can keep up with this. Then, suddenly, a wave. I'm swimming. Hard. The meat is piling. I can't swim fast enough.

I turn the marker back to red, but sitting next to me is Rod, who has his marker still set to green, so the meat still keeps landing on my plate. I have to wave the red side at the people and wave them off of me. I need to slow down. I need to rest. Marissa and them haven't returned from the salad bar and I'm already in danger of being full. And we've only been here for ten minutes.

Fogo de Chao offers fifteen types of meat. Mostly beef, but there's pork and chicken available as well. Much of the meat is just okay. Not enough salt or seasoning, so by the time the chef cuts into the meat for your portion, it just tastes kinda bland. Kinda gray. What you want are the outer cuts that have been seared by the fire. That's where the flavor is.

The standout meats were the sausage and the bacon wrapped filet and bacon wrapped chicken. Seems that anything wrapped in bacon is going to taste better. The chicken legs always came out searingly hot, which is a plus, and had good flavor. The rest of the beef was kinda benign and uninspired. None of the main beef cuts really stood out for me.

If you don't attack the salad bar (which is just filler anyway), they drop on the table platefuls of mashed potatoes, fried dough balls and a polenta-like thing. All of them are pretty good, although I thought the fried dough was a bit oily.

In spite of the place being packed, loud and generally very loud (I know I said that already, but it was LOUD). I had a good time. It's really hard not to have a good time when The Clan has gathered. What's the latest gossip? Who's the biggest fuckup? Who's serious about moving to Barcelona? Is Tilly really going to start her sex toy-related business? Who's next for a pregnancy? Some stuff I can relate to, other stuff I can't.

The staff is helpful, talkative and at times, funny. Many of them are actually from Brazil, which is a nice twist.

Dessert finally came and I ordered the Strawberry ice cream. It was nothing special. Had I been dining alone, I probably would have thought it outright sucked. It was loose, melted and generally so-so. Tilly had the cheesecake - that was so-so, as well.

In the end, our bill came out just shy of fourteen hundred dollars, including tip. Certainly, not the best meal I've had for $85 but not the worst.

Fogo de Chao
600 East Pratt Street, Suite 102
Baltimore, MD 21202
410-528-9292
www.fogodechao.com

Love In The Time Of Cholera

Catalina Sandino Moreno and Giovanna Mezzogiorno as the cousins Hildebranda Sanchez and Fermina Daza.

After arriving from Los Angeles today, I rushed out to the movies to see Love In The Time of Cholera, the tale of two lovers and their fifty-one year journey to be together. I had just finished Gabriel Garcia Marquez's book on the flight home so the timing was perfect. Perhaps I was a bit tired to go to the movies, but I refuse to watch movies on the weekends and since the theatre was only screening the film at 10:20pm and new movies were opening tomorrow (it was Thursday night), I figured chances were good they were going to pull the film and I wouldn't get to see it.

I arrived to an absolutely empty theater about fifteen minutes prior to the scheduled time, and it stayed empty. It was like my own private screening. It was beautiful. If I had brought a girl along with me, who knows what kind of trouble we could have gotten into. It's one thing to make out at the movies, but a private screening opens up so many more possibilities. God must know my nefarious ways and that's why he's conspired to place such distance between me and Mexico City.

It would be redundant to go into details about the film and give my "review" but I enjoyed it. It stayed relatively true to the book, even though it did take some large liberties and it was unfortunate that so much of the exposition in the book that gave so much life an texture to the story were unable to be captured in the film. Of course, there's only two hours so it's tough.

I just hope that I won't have to wait 51 years, 9 months and 4 days before I can declare my love again like Florentino Ariza...

N490UA

Fly trusty steed! Onward to my destiny with Drew Barrymore!

Here it is. November Four Niner Zero Uniform Alpha. The United Boeing 757 that was going to carry me to Eternal Glory (or at least until the end of 2009).

I was about to reach a milestone. 50,000 miles within one calendar year. Depart Los Angeles in that airplane and I would arrive in Baltimore a Premier Executive member. Exciting.

I had been a Mileage Plus Premier member for about six years back in the late 1980s to mid 1990s when I was still living in Honolulu and flying back and forth. Just three trips a year and I was guaranteed to hit the 25,000 mile mark for Premier. But I had never made the Executive Level.

For the past ten years or so, I had been flying with whomever gave me the cheapest rate. Then, in 2005, I realized again that I was wasting all those miles flown and decided to use primarily United and Star Alliance airlines to rebuild my former glory. With my travels to Africa and across the United States, I started threatening to make Premier and on the way to Tokyo in July, I made it once again. Suddenly, upgrades that were previously unavailable to me were being offered. No more paying for Economy Plus seats, they were on the house. There was a crispness to my step that wasn't there before and the cute front counter girls started giving me bigger smiles and offering me backrubs.

Since I'm not part of club, rumors abound. I was turned away from the USAirways lounge because I wasn't a "Gold Card" holder (Premier only has a silver card) and told that had I had the Gold Card, I would have been welcomed. Premier has its' perks, but only Executives were welcome here.

So what does one get when he's flown 50,000 miles over the past year?

The website says I get access to an exclusive phone number to take care of my needs. Priority check-in so I can avoid all the families and tourists loaded down with kids, luggage and too many hand carry baggages. Economy Plus seating. Waitlist priority so that I can bypass the schmoes who think they're flying standby ahead of me. And complimentary upgrades that will propel me into First Class and next to that young starlet who won't be able to keep her hands off of me and invite me to join the Mile High Club.

So maybe next time you see me it will be just a quick glimpse of me on the other side of the curtain, laughing, cavorting and spilling champagne over Drew Barrymore's shirt while she feeds me spoonfuls of osetra caviar.

I think I'm looking forward to the Executive life...