Herr Swengler's Kraut

Aventius Doppelbock, Binkert's Bavarian Bratwurst and Herr Swengler's Kraut.

One thing I know for sure after a week touring across Germany is that I don't know anything at all about German food. Sure, the sausage are ubiquitous and the Nurnberger sausage is the precursor to the American breakfast sausage link, but other than SigSauer and sauerkraut, I know nothing except that I enjoyed the food of Germany.

Knowing this, Dai San brought me back some of Herr Swengler's (his dad) homemade sauerkraut to try. This was the real deal. The homemade stuff and none of that nonsense you find in canned jars at the grocery store. Fermented and salty, he said. Beware.


Simmering in the mix.

The directions were simple enough: simmer bratwurst (though I could use kielbasa), sauerkraut and dark beer in a pot until the sausage is cooked through then eat over steamed rice (Dai San is half-Japanese and half-German - or Whole Axis), this of course, appeals to my Filipino side - and I was going to add rice anyway...

While I do have some lovely Ostrowski's Polish Kielbasa at home, a proper German sauerkraut needs a proper German sausage, causing me to trek out to Binkert's German Sausage where I think they only begrudgingly speak English, are unabashed about their meats and they don't accept credit cards - NEIN DU DUMMKOPF!!! Or something to that effect.

A stop off to see Austin at the wine shop and a bottle of Aventius Doppelbock and we're off to the races. A little browning of the sausage to begin with (though you don't have to), several ounces of doppelbock for the pot (and more for myself), Herr Swengler's sauerkraut and just let it simmer.


A simple meal for a cold evening.

One blog post and thirty minutes later, the mix is ready to eat. With rice. Of course.

Pulling a sample from the pot and the sauerkraut is a beast. The texture is firm and slightly crunchy (unlike other krauts I've tried) with a mellow flavor, slight sourness and in your face saltiness. Like I said, it's a Beast. This is sauerkraut, you know it and it's unrelenting.

The white rice helps tone down the salt and the Diet Coke's acid cuts it like a knife. Large spoonfuls of sauerkraut are rewarded with a lovely flavor, just before a mouth-smashing punch of salt. Add a slice of the sausage into the mix and you're rewarded with strong notes of garlic, black pepper and pork to balance out the kraut saltiness on the neutral rice canvas.

Not a bad way to stay in on a cold Saturday night.

Not (Quite) Bolognese

The sort of bolognese simmers on the stove.

I'm hungry. But I don't quite have fresh ingredients on hand.

Instead, the freezer is full of foodstuffs I've laid up for a rainy day, and since today was a bit rainy, it's time to put them to good use - and I've had sugo de bolognese on the mind.

Problem is: I don't have all the proper ingredients for a traditional bolognese. Digging into the freezer, I find a pound of ground beef, a pound of homemade chorizo (I think) sausage, some blanched and frozen haricort verts, homemade demiglace and tomato water. In the fridge, I find some carrots, onions, bell peppers and garlic. No celery, no bacon (Good God!) and no cream. Not to mention the most pedestrian bottle of red wine that I have on hand is a 2009 Madrigal Zinfandel.

What does all this mean? It's going to be a bit of a freestyle fest. Luckily, I have plenty of butter.

The veggies go into the food processor while the olive oil and butter heats in my new orange (or as they say: "valencia") Le Creuset 7.25qt big honking pot.

Sizzle the essentially pureed veggies in the pot until they start to turn color then add the ground meats, cooking them until they start to brown. Then add some red wine and burn it off.

While all of this is happening, I've been reducing the tomato water into a nice, thick sludge for maximum concentrated flavor. Once the wine is burned off, in goes the tomato liquid and maybe a bit too much demiglace. Boil it off for a minute or two and then reduce to low flame. Now, I'm gonna let this sucker simmer for a couple of hours.

I'm supposed to add sage. I'm supposed to add salt and pepper, but the chorizo style ground sausage is pretty jacked on seasonings that I decide to wait and see. About 30 minutes into the simmer, I give it a taste. Not surprisingly, there's a strong sense of chorizo but it's pretty good. In a little while, I'll add some milk to smoothen it out and then see how it does on pasta.

And maybe as a taco...

Lobstah Roll

The small lobster roll at Lobster Express.

A certain sign that you're in New England is not just the lobster house but the vast selection of lobsters available at the lobster house. At home in Baltimore, there's simply a tank and a price - say $10/lb for whatever lobsters they have in stock. Head out west to Portland and lobsters are pushing $50 each.

Here lobsters start at $5.99/lb for the soft shell lobsters and move upward. Interestingly enough, the larger the lobster, the lower the per pound price. Though you'd think that buying a 6 plus pound lobster that's thirty years old would mean higher prices.


A selection of lobsters for your choosing.

Today it's a lobster roll, some clam chowder and a couple of lobsters (1.5lb) for dinner. Will report back later. Maybe...

Adobo The World

General ingredients for Sunday Meal.

Yes, I can cook.

It's times like these when I get myself into trouble.

Perhaps it's time that I start to think like a normal guy: I don't know how to cook. I just want to sit on the couch watching The Game and talk player stats while guzzling six-packs of beer.

Instead, I find myself on a Sunday late morning at the local supermarket looking for ingredients to make "something Filipino."


Making "medium grain" rice with a 50/50 mixture of long grain and short grain rices. It worked!

Earlier this year, I had the notion of going out to eat Filipino food in Mexico City. A google search for "Filipino restaurants Mexico City" returned nothing, so I contacted the Philippine Embassy in Mexico City, asking them for guidance on where to eat traditional Filipino food in the city.

Surely, in a city of 20 million people, some Filipinos would have found their way to these shores (consider the old Manila-Mexico-Spain trade route) and opened up a carinderia.

A couple of days later, a reply from the Consul General was telling: no Filipino restaurants in Mexico City. No Filipino restaurants in all of Mexico, for that matter. Huh???



Pork Adobo Battle Ingredients: pork ribs, butter, white onion, garlic, soy sauce, vinegar, red wine & jalapeno.

I couldn't believe it. There's Filipinos and their restaurants everywhere. Wherever there's work and the chance to send remittances back home, Filipinos have landed. How is it this mighty city has none. Am I the only Filipino in the city (along with the embassy staff)?

No Filipino restaurants. No Filipino food. If I move here, I could be in trouble. That's right when the girls had the idea that I should cook Sunday meal. But not just any meal. They wanted to try real Filipino food. Whatever that was.


Seared, stewed and ready to serve.

As to be expected, when it comes to fresh Mexican ingredients, Mexico is all aces. When it comes to assembling the ingredients needed to make authentic, traditional Filipino (or general Asian) food, that's where Mexico starts to stumble.

Of course, it could be just that I don't know the lay of the land. Maybe there's some secret mercado filled with Asian foodstuffs longing for my discovery - like that little Chinese market on Puente Alvarado in Tabacalera.

At one point, I thought seriously about making Kare Kare but a quick search at the supermarket left some key ingredients out. Ixnay the Kare Kare. Enter Pork Adobo.


Monday morning breakfast: pan fried pork adobo, Sinaag fried rice and some eggs.

In the world of Filipino cookery, Adobo is the ubiquitous traditional dish. Everyone knows it. Everyone can make it. Sorta. Everyone has their own twist. Take a drive across just Luzon and you'll find thousands of different variations of Adobo. Talk to your friends and each of them has their own preferred way. Some like it dry. Others fried. Some like it with sabaw (or sauce). Others hate it that way.

Then the ingredients can get kinda crazy and esoteric - some of which fly completely in the face of what you know as "adobo". Like that dude who talked about putting coconut milk in his adobo: Heretic. Or peppers. Or fish. Strange and odd stuff, but all under that known as adobo.

And it's completely different than Mexican Adobo. Actually, I don't even know what Mexican Adobo is, but to this Filipino boy: it ain't Adobo to me.

For Sunday Meal, I just took the simple route, with a little twist. Pork ribs with some butter, onion and red wine to add to the traditional ingredients of garlic, black pepper, bay leaves, soy sauce and vinegar. After some careful searing and some long stewing, it was ready to eat and enjoyed by all.

Like many dishes around the world, Adobo enjoys a little age. So, the next day, all by myself, I indulged myself in a little treat. Pan fried pork adobo with some eggs and garlic fried rice.

Not a bad way to remember the flavors of home while off in a distant land.

Let Me Show You...

Sometimes my day takes a slightly turn for the strange.

After heading downtown to pick up some supplies, I decided at the last minute to swing by a local pasticceria for a scoop of gelato. Upon arriving and having a look at the gelato selection, which was looking a bit wet, I decided to just grab a cookie instead.

That's exactly when the chef/owner decided that I must come try the new cookie that's cooling on the racks in the kitchen. So, back into the kitchen we went. Now, I must say, the kitchen was pretty nice. Very clean, well organized - essentially the kind of place that I wouldn't mind working.

After showing me the new batch of butter cookies with powdered sugar topping and a hint of lemon, the chef decides to show me his (new?) pastry machine. This unit measures, portions and dispenses a variety of pastry items based on how you program it. Cookies, eclairs, sheets, anything and everything for the proper Italian pastry chef.

The thing is that the kitchen crew has gone home for the day and he's cleaning the unit. With the main hopper detached from the machine, he really needs someone to help him move the hopper and put it back in place. The hopper is stainless steel and probably weighs two hundred pounds.

Basically, for a few cookies and a tour of the kitchen, I've been drafted into moving this massive, heavy hopper. Not that I mind so much since we sit around talking shop and I get the opportunity to learn a bit about Italian pasty making from someone who's a true master of the craft. All in exchange for a little brute labor.

And I got a few cookies to boot!

Roasting Illustrated

French Heirloom Chicken ready to go.

Perusing the latest issue of Cook's Illustrated, I came across their quick roast technique for roasted chicken and decided to give it a try. The key is to heat a skillet first, placing the chicken on the skillet and the dark meat to cook with conduction while the rest of the bird is heated with convection.

Cook's Illustrated gives a different preparation of the meat for those trying to jam a roasted chicken in after work and in time for dinner, but I wanted to go with a more traditional method of seasoning. A little softened butter, rosemary, lemon, sweet onion, salt and pepper. And since I'm not really in a rush, a pop in the refrigerator to dry out the skin a little.


Into the skillet.

After a very successful test a couple of weeks ago at Vanessa's, I grabbed another French heirloom chicken from KCC Natural Farms in Forest Hill, Maryland. I had come across KCC at the Towson Farmer's Market and the thought of a French heritage bird intrigued me. The flavor was so good that I grabbed a couple more.

If you're used to grocery store, commercial chickens, these will look positively anemic. Afterall, they're only about three pounds. Those grocery store Purdue suckers are upwards of five pounds with massive breast meat that comes from a short life sitting in your own feces.


Fresh from the oven.

With the bird in hand and a solid helping of minced rosemary in butter, separate the skin from the meat with your hand, starting by the tail bone. Rub the butter into the space between the skin and the meat and be very liberal with your butter.

From there, it's a simple squeeze of lemon over the skin then a stuffing of the remaining lemon half and half an onion in the body cavity before trussing legs and wings. You want to truss the legs together and the wings to the body to prevent scorching (with the wing tips) and even cooking. Good results can also be had by leaving the legs dangling but it doesn't make for a nice presentation.


A little bit closer.

After a brief spell in the refrigerator to dry out the skin a little, select a skillet that is just wide enough to hold the bird and high-walled enough to contain the juices that will emanate from the meat. Place the skillet on the center rack of the oven then preheat the oven to 450F.

Once at temperature, remove skillet and place bird in center. It should sizzle nicely. Place the bird in skillet back into oven and roast for 25-30 minutes (the bigger the bird, the longer the time). Once the time has been reached, DO NOT OPEN THE DOOR and shut the heat off, allowing the residual heat contained in the oven to continue cooking the bird. Do not open the door at all.


Eat with a pan sauce.

After another 30 minutes in the oven, remove bird from skillet and allow to rest for 20 minutes. During this time, you can make a pan sauce by deglazing the pan of fond with some onions, white wine and whatever else you feel like putting into your sauce then mounting it with a little butter.

Finally, it's time to carve and eat. I recommend the use of hands.

Sunday BBQ

The Secret Weapon: Velveeta.

At my core, I'm a very simple creature. I grew up in 70s and 80s America. An immigrant family, we ate cheaply and I grew up with very simple fare: Lipton iced tea, cheap cuts of meat and Kraft macaroni and cheese. For many years, I didn't know one could have a mac-n-cheese that wasn't orange.

So, when I finally got around to learning about food and cuisine, I found the upscale mac-n-cheeses, with their fancy cheeses, to be interesting and good but not as soul satisfying as that commercial orange mac-n-cheese. Yes, one could make a deliciously tasty mac-n-cheese with a bechamel base, four cheeses, lardons and penne pasta, and I can whip that up without a second thought, but it's the orange mac that's eluded me.


A smoker full of barbecue.

Eluded in the fact that the world now revolves around easy to make macs, like Easy Mac or instant mac-n-cheese. And while those can be decent enough, nothing is quite like the days of boiling the noodles, adding butter and milk and that orange cheese powder. Now, that's Classic Americana!

I've always fantasized about making the true down home, could be nasty and definitely bad for you, mac-n-cheese but never had the opportunity, until now. With a group of our friends guaranteed to eat it, we set out to making this Ultimate Mac-N-Cheese: One large block of Velveeta, 3 liters of macaroni, half a stick of butter and 1/2 cup whole milk. Stir it all together and eat with a spoon!


Smoked skirt steak.

From there, it's barbecue and more barbecue. With the smoker running at full blast, it doesn't make sense to cook anything any other way. Some kind of protein? Into the smoker! Old shoe? Into the smoker too!

On order for the evening is a taste of the old school Ono Grill. Some baby back ribs, a little brisket, a sirloin and a skirt steak and it's nearly non-stop meat. Want some veg? Does Velveeta Mac-N-Cheese count? As it goes, it's a couple of slices of this, a scoop of mac and a drink. A little while later, it's a scoop of rice and a couple of ribs and some sauce. Want dessert? There's more Mac-N-Cheese, and I think there's some cold, sliced watermelon somewhere nearby.


Making the Mac-N-Cheese.




Skirt Steak: All Sliced Up!




Gerry's fancy broiled breaded mac-n-cheese.




The girls watch Yo Gabba Gabba!




Smoked sirloin, beef brisket and racks of short ribs.

Blues BBQ

Inside Blues BBQ and a peek at their pressure smoker.

According to what I've read, Blues BBQ is the best bbq in Charleston. But read through the reviews and the comments and a bit of a controversy erupts. Evidently, Blues BBQ pressure cooks their ribs. To bbq purists this is akin to an uncircumsized Semite running through 1942 Berlin wearing a pig meat outfit.

Putting that controversy to the side, I decided to check out Blues - especially since one of the commenters assured that Blues was not pressure cooking their ribs. As for myself, I'm a firm believer in wood smoked bbq but I certainly can appreciate the virtues of boiled ribs (looking at you The Corner Stable in Cockeysville, MD) - though stating that might be grounds for the KCBS to revoke my BBQ Judge status.


Samples of their Williamsburg and Blues style pulled pork.

Located in a simple building on Jefferson Road outside of South Charleston, it's easy to drive past Blues without noticing but once inside, it's true bbq style. Inside, Blues is old and a bit worn and rundown. Formica booths and old posters share the patina of wear that's reassuring in a bbq joint. There's even a large ice cream dipping cabinet sitting in the middle of the seating area. Odd and disjointed, it's kind of what bbq joints are all about. Fancy dining this place ain't.

The lady with the black hair is friendly and takes me on a tasting tour of the two types of pulled pork they offer. There's the original Blues pulled pork that's sweeter with hints of molasses, then there's the Williamsburg style that's acidic and vinegary with some spice. There's also two choices of cole slaw - a sweeter one with mayo and a spicy, vinegar based without mayo. While I like the Williamsburg style better on its own, I decide on the Blues style to balance out the vinegary spice of the non-mayo cole slaw for the pulled pork sandwich.


The pulled pork sandwich with baked beans and spicy cole slaw.

BBQ purists desire to shame all those who disagree (or merely have different) with their viewpoints and preferences. So rabid these purists can be that I'm surprised they aren't protesting outside Blues door. Inside, the very nice lady is more than happy and proud about how they cook their bbq: it's pressure smoked and she's happy to point out the pressure smoker that's in plain sight from the front counter.

A little Internet research showed that a small box of wood chips is placed in the bottom of the pressure chamber, then the meat is hung inside the chamber before being sealed and cooked under pressure. It's kind of weird to think about but I'm open to different as long as its good. The lady is proud of her cooker but it looks small to me and I wonder how many ribs they can cook. Four at a time and it takes just over an hour to cook.


Inside the pulled pork sandwich.

I think back to my summer making commercial bbq and four at a time seems like lunacy. You'd kill yourself trying to produce enough ribs when you can only do four at a time. Of course, it only takes about an hour and in the time that it would take me to smoke ribs the traditional way, you could run 16-20 racks in the pressure smoker.

The people at Blues BBQ are so friendly that it's no wonder they've been in business for ten years and have gone through three pressure smokers. I depart with a large bag stuffed with ribs, pulled pork, cole slaw, baked beans and fries for a late afternoon meal at the hotel.


A rack of ribs with dinner rolls.

I find the pulled pork to be very tasty. Deep, dark and lusty, I note spices, hints of dark chocolate and sweet molasses that's contrasted brilliantly by the spicy cole slaw. The sesame seed bun is soft and chewy. The baked beans are more of the same. Deep, smoky and molasses sweet. I like.

My brother is a big fan of the boiled style of ribs. Tender and falling off the bone is his style of ribs and he would be a big fan of the Blues rib. Fork tender and falling off the bone, you could easily suck the meat down Extremely tender and bathed in a sweet bbq sauce, I found the ribs to be a bit lacking.


Closeup with the pressure smoked ribs.

As much as I may try, I guess deep down inside, I'm a wood smoked rib lover. My palate is searching for that deep luster of wood flavor but can't find it. Visually, I'd like to see that reddish smoke ring but instead find an even color of pork grey under the sauce. The pressure smoker may add smoke but even under pressure, with such a short exposure time, it seems that the meat doesn't have enough time to meld its flavors with the smoke.

Where I would hope to find depth and complexity, the ribs come up short. I'm hoping for complex ribs but they're a bit one dimensional. I wonder if bathing the ribs in bbq sauce then charring them on the grill would develop greater complexity and that sugary Maillard reaction that might give these ribs that extra ooomph.

Of course, Blues has been around ten years and is very popular with the locals. The staff is very friendly and welcoming and the pulled pork is certainly worth the effort.


Blues BBQ
1109 Jefferson Road
South Charleston, WV 25309-9780
(304) 744-8335

The Modernist Conundrum

Oh, my! 46.3 pounds...

A couple of weeks ago, I come home to find a large and heavy box downstairs at Spro Hampden. It's big and nearly fifty pounds. Goodness. Then I noticed the label. It's the book I've been waiting for since 2009.

The Modernist Cuisine

During the 2009 StarChefs Conference, I attended a presentation by Nathan Myrhvold and Chris Young that was out of this world. These were some crazy guys talking about some crazy things. They were working on what must be the seminal tome on cooking in the 21st Century. As Escoffier was to the 19th Century, Myrhvold is to the 21st. And it's massive.


Getting into the packaging.

For two weeks, the box has been sitting on a chair downstairs at Spro. It didn't move. Too darn heavy. I wanted to figure out where to put it. How to transport it. Really, I didn't want to carry it up the stairs. Then it started to rain. Lazy. I'm not going to carry that in the rain. Why? Because I knew that I had to get the thing out of its box.

The box is something else. First of all, there are five tomes placed in a clear acrylic slide cover that is wrapped in heavy paper. The wrapped tomes and case are held in a corrugated padded box with a separately cardboard covered sixth volume, the bound and waterproof recipe book. These are all corrugated padded and then that box is placed in a larger box that is suspended within. Just like the books themselves, the packaging is off the hook.


At home with the PolyScience circulator for scale.

Finally today I brought the tomes home. Took them out of their box like the Ark of the Covenant, huffed them up the stairs and into the kitchen at home. Then, more conundrums: where to put the darn thing.

Nothing short of massive can accurately describe these tomes. Until now, the largest culinary book I own is the first edition of Heston Blumenthal's The Big Fat Duck Cookbook, along with Gordon Ramsay's ***Chef and Gisslen's Professional Cooking, Second Edition. Now, those pale in comparison.


Alongside Blumenthal, Ramsay and Gisslen.

Since I've only just gotten the tomes home, I haven't had the opportunity to really get into them. But the first flip throughs are exciting. Illustrations galore. And lots of information without being too technical or too geeky. My first thought: accessible.

From my understanding, the first run is sold out. Hopefully, there will be additional runs because I hear from some friends that they are unable to obtain copies. The font size is pretty large so I'm guessing that it's scaled to shrink into a smaller format size. I ordered my copy from Amazon back in December and I waited four months so your mileage may vary.

But, if you can score yourself a copy, it's going to be worth every penny.

Morning Chill-A-Que

Totopos goes into a pan.

Admittedly, I'm a relative newcomer to Mexican cuisine but that hasn't stopped me from pursuing greater understanding of Mexican staples such as conchas, tacos al pastor and chilaquiles.

Chilaquiles. Few dishes have so quickly grown to my heart and I'm addicted. Almost anywhere that I visit, if I find chilaquiles on the menu, I'm compelled to try it to see how it compares. I make my own at home - and it's usually a rojo or red version with tomatoes but Ana prefers green and that's what she's making today.


The salsa verde stews away.

As with most great cuisine, the ingredients are simple. Some tomatillos, chiles and cilantro are blended together then cooked to meld the flavors. Add the totopos and stew both together. Top with manchego cheese, queso fresco, crema and fried eggs, with a side of refried beans and you're good to go. It's that simple.

Like Philippine Adobo, Chilaquiles vary by region, by city and by the individual. So many different interpretations are possible. Some serve the totopos crunchy but the traditional way is soft. I like it somewhere in-between.


Totopos fried a bit deeper than I'm used to at home.

What it really has come down to is a challenge. Whose Chilaquiles is best? Hers or mine? It's a foolish gamble to bet against a Mexicana, so color me foolish.

The method and some of the ingredients are different than I would do it, but the results are delicious. I'm going to have a tough time of it.

My turn comes later this month - and the stakes are high...!


Shredded chicken.



The plating begins.



Ana's Chilaquiles Verde con Huevos y Frijoles.

Día de Tontos de Abril - 42

Speeding it over to Polanco.

It's my birthday and I've returned to Mexico City for a few days of what supposedly is R&R (rest & relaxation) but really is R&R (Run & Run Faster). The weather is lovely but the traffic is at its' worst. Everywhere we go, the traffic is jammed and very slow moving. If I didn't have mucho experience with Manila traffic, I might get a little crazy.

As always, the DF is a crazy place. A wild mish-mash of colors, aromas, cultures and socio-economic realities. One moment there's someone begging on the street looking dirty and worse for wear, the next you're cruising along tree-lined streets as well-dressed Capitalenos wear Versace and sport Vuitton handbags, arriving in an E-Class Mercedes.

For a day that I've planned on dedicating to nothing in particular, it will be a busy one. A little work, a little play and a little touring. A visit to La Casa Del Habano will land me some rare Cuban Cohibas but also put an uncomfortable dent in my credit line.

But the food and company really can't be beat. Not a bad way to spend the first day of 42 years.


Guajolota Verde con Pollo




Guajolota Dulce.




Ladies making Tlacoyos. I really want one of those comals.




Ana and the Tlacoyo de Requeson.




A selection of Agua Frescas.




Boiling plantains in oil.




Costilla Carnitas ready for you.




Ordering tacos at Carnitas Lolita.




A sample of Lolita's Carnitas.




Dos tacos carnitas - antes (before).




Y despues (and after).




Sandia Agua Fresca.




George welcomes us to the Nespresso boutique in Polanco.




Sampling Nespresso Iced Coffee.




Even the ice cubes are shaped like coffee beans. Trick!




Diced carrots & calabasa at the ready.




Cilantro and chile pepper.




Pan toasting the rice.




Everything goes into the pot.




Reality check.




Chicken thighs.




We don't have this in the United States.




Pollo, hongos, elote, chipotle y crema.




Pollo con Crema with arroz.




Happy Birthday (to me)...




Chocolate Tres Leches Cake... Oh, my!




Quince Ate (that's ah-teh) y Queso Manchego.