Eating Europa

The 50 Kroner ($10) Cappuccino.

It's famous in the coffee world. It's even mentioned in the Time Out and Lonely Planet guidebooks. It's owned by the 2001 World Barista Champion, Martin Hildebrandt.

But as everyone in the know will tell you: don't got there for the coffee.

Take the cappuccino above. First off, it's pretty darn expensive by any standard. Ten Dollars. Yowza. For ten bucks, you'd expect cappuccino perfection. And while you get something that looks pretty with its' latte art, the rest falls flat. Drag a demitasse spoon through the foam and you'll see: it's a latte with that prerequisite micro-thin layer of foam.

If you're looking for a coffee mecca, there are other places to go - including Europa's sister company: Kontra Coffee.

But what you do go to Europa for, night after night after night, is the food.

It's truly delicious and exquisite. In fact, their smoked salmon salad is the best salad I've had anywhere.


Adriana and the Vegetarian Salad - King Trumpet mushrooms served with apples baked in thyme, mixed salad with Dijon sauce, organic lentils, grains beans & roasted nuts, honey glazed apricots, bread & butter. 135 Kroner (for the salad, not Adriana)

The girls and I made our first visit to Europa on my second night in Copenhagen. It was slightly chilly but they had blankets to warm the girls (none for me since I'm male and designed to suffer). While the girls had a beer each (42 Kroner), Adriana had the vegetarian salad (135Kr) while I had the Lamb Special (195Kr), the Ingefaer-lime Limonade (50Kr) and the cappuccino (50Kr.).

I tasted the salad and it was very good, but my lamb was beautifully done. Cooked au point to perfection and served with fresh greens, herbs, roasted potatoes, asparagus and the surprise sweetness of pomegranates. Amazing. Ingredients so fresh and alive that they popped on the palate. This is the kind of eating made for excitement.


The Lamb.

It was a lovely evening in the waning sunlight with good friends, but the lamb, a salad, a limonade, cappuccino and three beers cost me $120! I was quickly learning that Copenhagen was not going to be a visit on the cheap.

But the food was good, the company was excellent and I was still flush with cash.



Sylvia and The Bread.

As the week progressed, it seemed to evolve around Europa. At some point of the day or night, we would end up there. One night was a night of drunken debauchery as Holger celebrated Germany's victory in the Euro Cup. We would also end the week there for the WBC Barista Party where the staff would float around with trays of food (the lamb chops - yum!) and beverages.

It was then that I wished I had more time to chat with the cute server who was quite friendly and more than happy to bring me a Coke from the bar. Thank God for you and if you ever visit America, I will be a happy host and tour guide. You know who you are.

Something else I wanted to mention that was notable at Europa but not limited to Europa. Compared to the "Customer service at all costs" attitude in the United States, server attitudes in Copenhagen sucks. Perhaps it's the lack of a tipping culture or (as one friend put it) that Danes are just frank and matter-of-fact about everything that it comes off the wrong way, but I couldn't help but develop the impression that the presence of customers was just off-putting and a bit too much of an imposition on the servers.

Weird, but I was actually glad the tipping culture didn't exist because the tip would have been small indeed.



Shane, Imma, Sanders and John.

One of our excursions to Europa was after a cafe crawl with the African Contingent. Again, more amazing food. Sanders' description of the yogurt made it a "must taste" and it was truly special. Smooth, creamy, delicious and perfection with the maple syrup. God, I have to remember to do that at home.

It was good to catch up with returning champions Francis Njobu (Zambia) and John Muli Makaw (Kenya) who both had won their national championships for the second year running. It was also fantastic to meet Peter Musana, the first Ugandan barista champion. A truly pleasant and humble man to be around.


John, Claire and Francis, 2007/2008 Zambian Barista Champion.


The Yoghurt - strained with fresh fruit and maple syrup.


Smoked Organic Salmon Salad - smoked salmon serve with mixed salad with Dijon sauce, organic lentils, grains, beans & roasted nuts, smoked cream cheese, lime, fresh herbs, bread and butter.

Ever since I watched Shane and Drew order yogurt and fruit plates for breakfast in Minneapolis, I've been trying to think more carefully about what I eat, so I thought I would go for the salmon salad. I'm certainly glad that I did. Without reservation, that had to be one of, if not the best salad I've ever had anywhere. It was perfectly balanced with greens, grains, salmon and citrus. Unbelievable. I want to recreate it at home, it was that good. From now on, whenever another salad crosses my plate, this will be the benchmark I hold it to. Fresh, light, seasonal and filling. They offer two sizes and this one is the smaller. Can't imagine what it would be like to eat the larger serving.


Chicken Sandwich - organic rye bread, chicken marinated with basil vinaigrette, grilled pancetta, tomato, fresh herbs, curry sauce & mango chutney.


Chicken Sandwich - on organic wheat bread.


Burger Europa 1989 - slices of filet beef from Danish Jersey young cattle, matured by Europa 1989 standards, salad, tomato, pickled cucumber, barbecue marinated onion, cheese & grilled pancetta. Served with baked lemon marinated potatoes, fresh herbs, barbecue sauce & aioli.


At the end, if you ever make it to Copenhagen, it's worth eating brunch and lunch at Europa. In fact, if it should be a must. Start off the day with one of the two brunch selections (I would probably choose Brunch 2), then go off and walk around the city for awhile. Trek up to see the Little Mermaid. By the time you walk there and back, you'll be plenty hungry and then try the Organic Salmon Salad. Afterwards, take a stroll along the lakes and visit some shops in the north section of the city then walk back for an evening meal with the lamb, or whatever special they're running (it'll be worth it, guaranteed). Sit outside with some blankets, have a few beers and smoke a couple of Havanas and you would have spent the perfect day in Copenhagen.

It certainly will not have been cheap, but it will have been delicious.



Europa 1989
Amagertorv 1
1160 København K, Denmark
+45 3314 2889
www.europa1989.dk

Hrvatska

After a generally appealing week in Copenhagen, I've found my way to Croatia's capital city of Zagreb. Nestled in the highlands at an altitude of 2000 meters, it's pretty darn hot and humid here. At least as hot and humid as Maryland, and perhaps as much as SouthEast Asia. Perhaps it's made worse by the fact that I just arrived from a cold and blustery Copenhagen.

My taxi dropped me off at the wrong hotel, allowing me the opportunity (and pain in the ass) of touring the center city with all my baggage in tow. From this short stint, Zagreb seems like an energetic and young city. Optimistic and eager. Granted, it's a superficial characterization and one that will be tested in the days to come.

For first meal, the desk clerk here at the Best Western Hotel Astoria recommended pizza from Capuciner Pizzeria Spaghetteria. I ordered a small pizza for 30 Kunas topped with mushrooms, ham, bacon, cheese and tomato sauce. The crust was nicely done but the toppings were a bit on the heavy side causing the pizza to be a bit on the moist side, but still quite tasty with a Coke.

Tomorrow it's off to Eli's Cafe to visit Croatian Barista Champion Nik Orosi on his home turf and then somewhere to do laundry.

A New Deal, Verdad

There's a saying in the English language: "Don't cut your nose off to spite your face." It's a saying that I haven't tried taking to heart. Until today.

Everyone needs a little voice to help guide them through the pits and falls of navigating relationships. In my case, I need a big "What the fuuuuuck are you doing???" from my voice and I'm glad Syl was there today to throw things back in my face with classic lines such as: "Well, that's not her problem. That's your problem (pendejo)."

It sucks when your voice is without mercy and relentless.

My problem is that I always want to be right. It's a serious design flaw in my genetic makeup. Sure, there could be smoother steps towards resolution and a continuation of a relationship, but I'm determined to be right and I'm ready to prove it - even willing to end and destroy a relationship completely in my pursuit of winning (it's that winner takes all and unless you've won you've lost kind of mentality).

It's dumb, stupid and childish and I absolutely refuse to calculate how many relationships I've wiped out because of it.

What makes it worse is when your opponent is relatively a mirrored reflection of your own personality and character flaws because as the two of us rush headfirst in a game of chicken, expecting the other to blink and give in, the only thing that happens is a horrific crash where each of us is wrong and neither wants to admit it.

With the help of La Voz, I decided today that I would be the one to blink. I'll give in. I won't pursue the "I'm right" line because, in the end, complete and utter destruction is not what I really want - it's what happens because I'm too blinded by fear to see it coming.

So today begins with a New Deal. I've gone ahead and put my egotism aside. Admittedly, it's not the deal that I really wanted. It's by no means ideal. The deal I wanted to push would have achieved everything I wanted but not what she wanted or was ready for. Today's deal gives us the hope for a new beginning - and maybe that will be enough for two Ariens (who are both always right) to have a fresh start.

La Tour Copenhagen

Sylvia and Adriana ready to start the days' adventure.

Here are some random scenes from my visit to Copenhagen. It's by no means a collection of visitations to the city's great tourist spots. Hell, I wouldn't know where those were anyway. In fact, if it weren't for the girls, I probably wouldn't have visited half of these places and would have ended up hanging out at some coffeeshop or restaurant shooting the shit with the staff.

On one day, the plan was rent some bicycles and hit the streets. One problem: a couple of the girls had never ridden a bicycle before. Even though Copenhagen is a very bicycle-friendly city, it's still a city filled with cars, trucks and buses hurtling down the streets and the possibility of getting smushed by one of them when you're balance is dodgy and that you might forget to brake in a panic is very high indeed. Happily, we decided that by foot we would travel.

And a good thing too. Because the other idea was for me to pedal a tandem bike. And while I certainly would have given it a heroic effort, we might have been killed too.


Holger and his machine at Kontra.

The first couple of days were spent touring the various coffeeshops of Copenhagen. It's nice to go to any city and find one place that makes quality coffee. In Copenhagen, there are a couple of choices: Coffee Collective, Estate Coffee and Kontra. Well, Kontra is more of a roastery slash retail shop, but it's a good place to hang.


In front of Coffee Collective


Troels and Beer.

Not a smart way to start your day.

The difference between hanging out with the girls versus hanging out with the boys is that the girls drink far less. Usually when traveling, the mornings start out with freshly ground, French-pressed coffee. On one morning, we headed over to Shane's room where they were flowing the absente. Not the smartest way to start your day on an empty stomach. Luckily, I made it over the girls' hotel without getting run over and I don't think they could tell of my condition.

Ana and Adriana by the lakes.

Bisecting the city is a collection of lakes. They're pretty large and we spent an afternoon walking along its' banks. Overall, Copenhagen is a nice city. It's a bit monotonous in its' seemingly Cold War Era apartments that continue in never-ending rows of sameness. Add to the fact that it's pretty chilly even in June and it's just not a place I would choose to live. I'd like it to be just a few degrees warmer. It would make strolling by the lake perfection.


The Queen of Denmark arrives for work. It was quite anti-climatic.

As we toured the city, we came upon a group of well-dressed soldiers and tourists (not so well-dressed) waiting for something to happen. Evidently, the Queen of Denmark was coming to work and this was her official welcome ceremony. I envisioned her chariot arriving and the Queen stepping out and waving to her constituents before ascending the stairs into the palace.

Instead, a couple of Bentleys came zipping by and sped through a gate and into an inner courtyard. We didn't get to see the Queen and the soldiers saluted.

It was grandly anti-climactic.


Obsessed with Mermen: look closely in the water.

It seems that Danes are obsessed with Mermaids and Mermen. Along the canal someone has sunken statues of a merman and his six sons. I don't know why. It's kinda cool. Interesting to say the least. I wasn't sure if we were supposed to throw money in for good luck.


Team Mexico - Adriana, Felix, Ana, Sylvia and The Opera House.


The Changing of the Guard. Neat.

The Changing of the Guard happens every day at 11:30am. Don't be late. Not because you might miss it (it takes quite a bit of time for them to actually change all of the guards) but because you'll have to fight hundreds of other tourists for a good viewing spot. All around me are other tourists fighting, straining and elbowing to get a better view so they can shoot their photographic memories with long zoom lenses. It's one reason why I only use a 20mm prime lens. I don't have the ability to zoom. If I want a close up, I have to move physically closer. If I can't then I don't worry too much about the image.

This typically means that I get to enjoy the moment more rather than viewing life through a viewfinder (I've done enough of that in my lifetime). I've also come to realize that my friends don't want to watch a slide show. Hell, even I can't stand viewing numerous photographs of my own trips. I mean really, how many photos of the Eiffel Tower does one need to see before they believe you visited it?

Maybe it's just me, but I was slightly disappointed by the Changing of the Guard. It could be my penchant for perfection, but I expected to see these razor sharp soldiers in perfect marching unison and everything aligned. The steps were slightly off and even a couple of their big hats were slightly tilted. It ruined the effect for me.


The Little Mermaid and Felix - I really didn't want to know.

At one point we're arguing (and with a woman it's less about "arguing" and more about "being told") about how some of these expectations are only in fairy tales, while we're traveling to the other side of the city to see the statue of The Little Mermaid. I'm living in a Faerie Tale but we're going to visit The Little Mermaid??? There's something ironic in there somewhere.

The Little Mermaid was a lot smaller than I expected. Faerie Tales must have something to them because there were a lot of people visiting Ariel (but where was Eric?). Somewhere I was expecting a funny crab to jump out of nowhere singing "Under The Sea."


Hiding from the elements on the open seas.


About to get hit in the head in Nyhavn.

From there, we jump on a boat that takes us out to a fort in the middle of the harbor. The trip there is the downwind leg, which means the trip back is the hairy one. The city of Copenhagen is pretty chilly to begin with. Get out on the water and into the wind and it's at least a ten degree difference. The trip back is fun but miserable. Fun because the spray in my face reminds me of my days sailing on the Chesapeake and along the Molokai Channel. Miserable because it's cold as shit and I'm without my foul weather gear.


Sylvia points the way for more hot dogs.

Evidently, Danes are obsessed with hot dogs. And so too is Sylvia. Danish hot dogs are pretty interesting fare. I've tried them and while they're good, I can't get crazy about a hot dog.


The spiral steepled church. Nice.

At one point, we made our way down to the Free Town of Christiania. It's kind of like a glorified shanty town where cameras are not allowed but marijuana is. It's an artist/hippie community and everyone seems pretty laid back and easy going - even though it looks like the roughest part of Denmark. Perhaps that old saying is true: alcohol makes nice people into assholes and marijuana makes assholes into nice people.

Not to say these people are assholes, just that they're laid back and unlike the violent masses I suspected from the news reports.





Ana in Christianshavn.

It was a good week reconnecting with friends in Copenhagen. Lots of parties. Lots of drinking. Lots of fun. But of all the photos I shot in Denmark, this is my favorite one. It's slightly out of focus. It looks sad and bittersweet. The blocked sunlight from the buildings, along with the graffiti gives it a grey and dirty look. The wide angle of the lens gives it a distant quality. All of which seemed poignant for that day.

The Poetry of Silence

The silence of city streets at 2 a.m. is like poetry. Poetry that fills the mind and embodies the senses. The poetry of self-reflection and self-realization that's never pretty or satisfying.

It's the walk I've taken alone back to hotels in cities around the world.

And it seems that it will never end.

The Copenhagen 2 a.m.

After much anticipation, the World Barista Championship is underway. For many of us, it's time to reconnect with friends old and new. Happily, some national champions like John (Kenya), Nik (Croatia), Francis (Zambia) and Salvador (Mexico) are returning for their second time around. Last year, I looked around the room and realized that the chances were that we would not see each other again. Nice to see that the tribe has returned.

And while the tribe has regrouped, some things have changed. While it was just Salvador and Ana last year making up Team Mexico, this time they've returned en masse with a larger team and matching national uniforms. Team New Zealand is fronted by a returning champion as well as an entourage seemingly the size of the North Island, including Carl Sara (who was spotted the other day hauling out waste water buckets lending his support to the entire community).

I didn't get to see a lot of the competitors but Canadian Champion Mike Yung looked absolutely solid on stage and if his drinks tasted as good as his performance, I wouldn't be surprised to see him in the finals.

Meanwhile, the Coffee in Good Spirits competition was going off on a nearby stage. Don't really understand the format but Greece swept the title. Tomorrow is the latte art championship.

Otherwise, I spent most of the day touring the show floor and chatting with friends from around the world. At one point, I was determined to go back to the hotel room for a jetlag nap but kept getting sidestepped with more friends and others who just wanted to chat. It's always a pleasant and fun time but the jetlag means that I'm nearly dozing off while sitting there trying to concentrate.

After the show, with Ana busy getting Team Mexico focused and ready for their performance tomorrow, Adriana, Sylvia and myself headed off to the Shawarma Grill on Stroget street for some much needed shawarma, falafel and beer. I always find those two fun and funny to hang out with and a constant string of gossip and green humor with a sensible balance of serious discussion.

And since I'm typically too dumb to listen to my jetlag at night, while the girls went home, I found my way back to Europa where Holger and our crew was celebrating Germany's victory over Austria. The one thing about Holger is that celebrating means celebrating and the only saving grace is the cool, crisp weather and long walk back to the hotel that sobers you up while Holger continues partying past 2a.m. on a Thursday night.

Oresund Copenhagen

My visit to Copenhagen continues and it's turning into an expensive whirlwind pseudo-holiday in northern Europe.

The first thing about Copenhagen is the cool to chilly weather and very long daylight. As I write this, it's nearly 1am and there's still the dark bluish hue across the sky, by 4am the sun will be rising on a new day. Long daylight like this, while a bit off-putting when trying to figure out what time it is, is really quite nice. Conversely, it means horrifically long winter nights and that must drive Danes to suicide and depression. Perhaps not the best prescription for happy living.

And certainly the odd weather patterns plays on the average Dane - at least the average Danes working as servers in restaurants that we've come into contact with. Invariably, they've been brusque and quite inconvenienced by our desire to spend money, eat their food and our need for them to actually take our orders. Luckily, the baristas who have been taking care of our coffee needs at Kontra, Estate and Coffee Collective have all been warm and inviting.

I'll have to write more but so far, the food has been quite good - at least at Europa. Perhaps the cappuccino wasn't quite a "cappuccino" and wouldn't pass the scrutiny of the judges I've been eating with, but their food has been absolutely stellar. The Organic Smoke Salmon Salad had to be one of the best salads I've ever eaten. More on that in another post later.

The biggest problem about Copenhagen is the cost. It's quite extreme. A visit to the local grocery store yesterday found a 1.5 liter bottle of Coca-Cola for ten dollars. Nestle ice cream bars at the hotel are three dollars. A coffee can easily cost five dollars - and last night's meal at Europa with Ana, Adriana and Sylvia cost 560 Danish Kroner -which converts to $118.40 according to the $4.73 exchange rate at the airport. It might not sound like a lot for a dinner for four but consider that it was only Adriana and I who ate (she with a salad, me with a lamb dish that really was quite exquisite), the girls had a beer each, I had lemonade and a cappuccino and it came out to $118.00.

Time to start making adobo sandwiches at the hotel room...

But for those of you looking for a bit of coffee news from the World Barista Championship front, the tribe has gathered once again and times are good here. There's quite a bit of talk regarding the turmoil between the SCAA and SCAE, as well as the turmoil within the SCAA, but I'll leave you to find out more about those predicaments from other channels - perhaps our little industry will finally get some media critical of its' actions. But maybe not.

Meanwhile, I'm enjoying myself and trying to save money by availing myself of the complimentary hotel breakfast and loading up on yogurt and granola.

BTW, Holger from Dalla Corte will be unveiling their new espresso machine tomorrow. We got a sneak peek tonight at midnight as they were uncrating it. It's quite sexy, hard-working and energy efficient and makes for a very compelling reason to consider Dalla Corte as a new player in the high-end specialty espresso scene. I'll be playing with it more over the next three days but it easily could be a contender for those considering La Marzocco and Synesso - and bear in mind that I'm a die-hard La Marzocco fan who's as fanatical about La Marzocco as many of these Europeans are about their futbol teams.

The new machine: fresh from the crate at midnight.

Copenhagen Pizza

Some fine rum before dinner at Kontra.

Someday, years after homo sapiens have been wiped from this Earth, other beings will come here to study and learn about our civilization. Instead of calling our planet "Earth", they may end up calling it: "Italia".

Seems that no matter where on Mother Earth I venture, we always return to pizza. Whether in some far-flung rural countryside in Thailand, or the blustery streets of Moscow, the sweaty alleys of Rio de Janeiro, or in the late waning light of Copenhagen, pizza is on people's minds and in their stomachs.

After spending the afternoon wandering around Copenhagen with Holger Welz and Andrew Barnett, we end up at Kontra Coffee where we meet up with 2005 World Barista Champion Troels Poulsen and Kontra roaster Michael de Renouard for some shots of rum and cold beers. After our beverages, Michael invites us over to his flat for a pizza dinner and some Euro Cup action on the telly.


Michael setting up the pizzas.

You'll find me complaining in other posts about the seemingly ridiculous cost of goods here in Copenhagen. For this American Dollar spending yokel, this city is way expensive. But as we're about to see, these Danes live pretty well for themselves.

Michaels' flat is in a nice section of the city on the top floor of a rather nice apartment complex. While slightly spartan, it's very tastefully decorated and furnished. What Michael lacks in clutter, he makes up for in thoughtful and valuable - in spades. The furniture has been hand-selected and feels sumptuous. The wines are beautiful. Even the wrought iron outdoor table and chair is authentic and old, not manufactured and new from IKEA. It's impressive all the way around.

While most coffee industry people are content with a Moka pot and some inexpensive coffeemaker, or perhaps a decent espresso machine, for Michael such tomfoolery just won't do. Only a La Marzocco GS3 will suffice - and how often do any of us achieve professional level espresso at home?


The view.

This is fine living and I'm slightly envious. If I had to live the urban lifestyle, this is the kind of lifestyle I would prefer: minimalist with fine furniture and exquisite appointments.

Even the view is lovely. A top floor flat is a must. As I peer out from the balcony sipping whatever lovely chianti that Michael has selected for us, I feel sorry for minions below who were unlucky in their bid for the top floor. It's 10pm and stubbornly daylight. I fancy myself a Hans Christian Andersen looking across the cityscape that doesn't look like it's changed in one hundred years.

Meanwhile, Holger and Andrew have occupied themselves with Germany in the Euro Cup.


Holger and Andrew with Germany in the background.

Finally, the pizzas arrive and Michael has gone all out on four of them, which is probably two too many. It's late night and I can't be eating a whole pizza. Plus, all this boozing has me slightly out of focus.

It's really a frenzy of pizza. Topped with prosciutto, artichokes, olives, basil, tomatoes and so much more. They're delicious. Ooh, there's sausage. And cheese. And maybe I can eat one.

Do I want more chianti? Well, I don't want to be rude.




After about twenty minutes, it's all over. We've attacked the pizzas with much gusto and there's about a pie and half left. Not too bad for three road-weary travelers who just arrived that morning and are pushing 23 hours.

But there's still dessert, digestif and Cuban cigars to be had.

Good Lord.



But before we get into more drinking, I make a quick call to see if the girls got in from their trip. They're doing well and are (smartly) getting ready for bed. Even though I haven't talked to her in six months, she sounds genuinely happy to hear from me. That's nice - and better than ice cream.

Returning to the task at hand, we enjoy a digestif, more good chat, Germany wins and we finally make our way back to the hotel around 2am.

Not a bad way to start your trip to Copenhagen

The Ten Dollar Hot Dog

Getting Phallic after 14 hours.

Journeying around the world is tough business. I can't sleep on airplanes so it's doubly difficult on me. After a grueling fourteen hour journey, I've finally landed in Copenhagen and decided to grab a quick bite at the airport. Hot dogs are evidently quite popular here and they come in fancy clothing.

For the typical American (and I guess most inhabitants of Planet Earth), a hot dog is typically adorned with a plain, old hot dog bun: basically a long piece of bread sliced lengthwise and you place the meat between the bun halves. In Denmark, they've got a unique bun that's also long but it's got a hole on one end that you first squirt a bit of mayonnaise and ketchup before shoving your meat into the hole.

And if you think that sounds phallic, consider the erect hot dog in the picture above...

From there, you hold the whole thing in your hand and start eating the hot dog. Danish Dogs, they're quite tasty actually and they also come in a variety of combinations and flavors. The only problem is that this hot dog and soda combo costs ten dollars.

Not the most economical way to start your visit to Copenhagen.

Copenhagen

Travel Kills.

The thing I detest the most about travel is: summer. The summer season means that everyone and their mother is traveling. I had hoped that the failing American dollar would keep travelers away from Europe but I arrived at Dulles airport only find thousands of people waiting in line to check in. Even the coveted Mileage Plus Premier Executive check-in line had about a hundred people queued. After all that time sitting on my ass in a seat flying across the world meant nothing since the only open like was the International First Class/Global Services/100K member line.

The flights to Zurich and then on to Copenhagen were packed. The Zurich leg wasn't too bad - until I decided that I needed sleep, and then I couldn't get comfortable. By the time the Copenhagen flight boarded, I was so exhausted, I couldn't help but fall asleep. Good thing too since I was hungry and didn't have either Euros, Swiss Francs or Danish Kroners.

After checking into the DGI-Byens Hotel, I wanted to crash out but doing so would only cause me to screw up my jetlag even more. Luckily, I ran into Andrew Barnett and Holger downstairs and we set out on a day of adventure. First stop, the hall where the World Barista Championship would be held. They're still getting stuff together so then we were off to visit the boys at Coffee Collective where we found Sigadorra, Liz, Edwin Martinez and his wife Nina, as well as Peter, Linus and Casey. Klaus was home sick.

After lots of chatting, hanging out and too much coffee, we headed over to Kontra Coffee where we found Troels and Michael finishing up their days' work and ready for a couple of beers in the rapidly chilling weather. From there, we headed over to Michael's flat in a rather posh section of the city for a round of pizzas, chianti, peach liquor, beer and ice cream - along with numerous shots of espresso pulled on Michael's home La Marzocco GS3.

And now that it's past one in the morning, I'm ready to crash out and try to catch up with this time zone.

The One Minute Steak

The One Minute and Ten Second Steak and it's creator.

Stopped by to visit Nelson and see his latest toy.

It's true about boys and our toys. They just get bigger, badder and more technologically advanced as we get older. It's something that women never understand. Just bear with us, please.

For his Grand Cru wine bar, Nelson has been looking for progressive ways to incorporate hot food into their menu without having to spent 50 grand on a full kitchen (not to mention the lack of space for such an endeavor). The Amana AXP 20 oven might just be the ticket.

Utilizing three cooking technologies, the AXP cooks the food with microwaves, convection heat and indirect heat. And it cooks food in record time by cooking the food simultaneously from the inside (microwave) and the outside (convection).

A pink-ish medium well. Not too bad for this super microwave.

It sounded too good to be true. Cooked and carmelized meats in just a few minutes? Hard to imagine. But there it was: a half-pound rib steak seasoned with salt and pepper, tossed into the AXP and one minute and ten seconds later, the steak is cooked through to a medium well with some caramel crustiness on the outside.

A few minutes later, Nelson takes some very hard frozen raw shrimp, tosses them into a bowl with some olive oil and lemon juice and fifty seconds later those suckers are hot, steaming and cooked all the way through. Unreal.

As I peruse the users manual, one thing becomes stark clear: the AXP wasn't designed for this kind of cooking, it was designed for places like T.G.I. McFunster's where they basically reheat food and serve it to customers. It was designed for cooking en masse and not necessarily the kind of cooking we're interested in doing.

But the question remains: how to harness this piece of industrial technology to achieve the results we desire? Beautifully caramelized steak with a pink center is the goal. And while it was meant to blast cook frozen crap in seconds, there seems to be a way to achieve that steak and surpassing the level of Outback.

Hard frozen raw shrimp to hot and steamy in 50 seconds.

I thought it was amazing. The time and the results were unbelievable. The problem was that the steak tasted flat. I can't tell if that was a result of the microwave cooking or if the cut of meat was simply "too commercial." Nelson picked it up from a nearby butcher who seems to be less than forthcoming about the sourcing of their meats, typically meaning that it's standard grain-fed, feedlot fare whose meat tastes bland to my palate to begin with.

Ditto for the frozen raw shrimp of unspecific origin. I have to wonder if we took some of the ingredients we're used to using (as opposed to ingredients picked up quickly for this test run) how they would taste under these cooking conditions. Certainly, there's something to be said about the time it takes to do it the old fashioned way - that the slower cooking method develops sugars and flavors in a way that the AXP cannot achieve because of it's speed, but I'm not knowledgeable enough in food science to determine that.

Still, I'm looking forward to seeing what this little oven can be pushed to do. Maybe if we lower the microwave power to 70% and extend the convection cooking time to one minute and thirty seconds at a lower blast temperature, we might be able to achieve a medium interior with crusty exterior...

Confounded by Standards

I'm still in Towson and still stuck with the same suburban predicament: where to find something tasty to eat? Luckily, I remembered that Three Chefs was along my drive and swung in for a bite.

There were only two other elderly gentlemen sitting at a table shooting the shit and waiting for their order when I arrived. For me, it was Jambalaya time. The last time I was here, I thought it was pretty good and wanted to see if that was truly the case or just an anomaly.

After a bit of a wait, the Jambalaya arrived fresh and hot. Blazing hot in fact. And the still somewhat al dente rice signaled that perhaps it was actually freshly cooked - a good sign. The flavors were fresh, crisp and spicy. Cumin, pepper and onions with sausage, chicken and shrimp in a tomato based sauce. It was darn tasty and well worth the trip.

I ordered a side of french fries because I couldn't help myself and was taught a lesson. The fries were terrible. Burnt and saturated with fat. Disgusting.

The two gentlemen before me had both ordered the four chicken wing and french fry specials. My guess is that their order wiped out whatever fryer they were using and when my fries hit the oil, it was cold. Insufficiently heated oil fails to develop the crust that seals in the foods' moisture that creates the steaming action that actually cooks fried foods. The fries sucked up all the fat, saturating them and as the oil heated, the fries sealed the oil inside and ended up overcooked until dark brown.

I was confounded but figured this was God's way of punishing me for ordering fries. I really need to stop that.

But I was confounded because the chef took so much time to make the jambalaya but sent out these burnt and lame fries? Why hold some level of quality only to destroy it with a crappily prepared side? Where's their standards? It was disappointing.


Three Chefs
912 Taylor Ave
Towson, MD 21286
410-823-2433

Southern Chicken?

Okay, my life isn't always delectable delights. Sometimes I'm stuck and resort to absolute crap for some semblance of sustenance. In fact, I haven't been to a McDonald's since February when I was passing through Frankfurt for a few hours.

In desperate need of food, I swung into a McDonald's and noticed their new Southern Fried Chicken sandwich. Ideas of Chik-Fil-A danced in my head and I tried one. It wasn't that bad.

Sure the crunchy breading wasn't a natural result of being freshly fried and sure the meat seemed like breast, the flavor was still bland. It was not Chik-Fil-A material.

So I took a few bites, tossed half the bun and slowly noshed on the rest as I kept on truckin' down the road.

Cafe Spice

The mystery goat.

Met up with Dai and Marco across the street from The Spro at Cafe Spice - the relatively new Indian restaurant where the Korean place used to be. Outside of Indian "favorites" such as aloo gobi and chicken tikka masala, I really don't know much about Indian food. I know some of it is hot, some of it is vegetarian and typically none of it is beef. Lots of lamb, goat and chicken.

In the few circumstances I've gone out to eat Indian food, it's been with friends for the lunchtime buffet. Depending on the restaurant, a literal smorgasbord of Indian foods - much of which we don't pay attention to beyond the "hmm, that looks good so I'll put it in my mouth" factor.

Which leaves me in a bit of a predicament when actually trying to order Indian cuisine off the menu. I don't have a clue and I refuse to get stuck in a rut of ordering only what I know.

Luckily, Marco is half Indian, half Italian and a subject of the British Empire (he's from London) which means that (happily) he's doing most of the ordering.

We start off with a couple of appetizers: samosas and fried balls of vegetables held together with some sort of batter. Both were quite tasty. The best thing about eating with someone who actually knows the food is that you get a real picture of what the cuisine is all about and how best to eat it. Marco downplays the rice and demonstrates how to tear a piece of naan (the very nicely done traditional flat bread) by using your right hand only to carefully tear a piece then drag it through your dish, sopping up the sauce and pieces of meat. No left hands! Evidently in Indian culture the left hand is used for washing your backside and you never use it for anything else. Lefties beware.

Each of us ordered a main course. Marco had a lamb course, Dai had chicken and I had goat. I would tell you the names of what we had but since they don't have an online menu, I can't recall their names. All I know is that Marco knew what he wanted and I asked the owner what she thought would be the best way to present the goat and went with her recommendation. Whatever it was, it was good. Lightly spicy, rich, complex and slightly sweet - a melange of flavors that went beautifully with the goat.

Indian meals come with side dishes of which I've never understood what to do with them until now. According to Marco, the yogurt is offered to mix in with your spoonful if the spice gets too hot and the weird-looking pickled thing actually is meant to be cut into small pieces and eaten with the main dish, it's pickled and spiciness adding a complimentary tang to the mouth.

Overall, we had a good time and the food was delicious. As someone who's experience with Indian cuisine has been quite limited, it's good to dine out with someone who knows their food. And according to my tastes, and confirmed by Marco, Cafe Spice offers a tasty and quite authentic Indian meal at decent prices.


Cafe Spice
321 York Road
Towson, MD 21204
410-583-7770

Bubba's Breakdown

Bubba's half cheesesteak with everything, no "hots".

The problem with suburban living (or perhaps modern day life in general) is the plethora of crappy places to eat and a dearth of good places. Unfortunately today, I fell prey to the former.

Back in high school, oh some twenty-two years ago, I used to like Bubba's Breakaway in Towson. Back then it was cheesesteaks and pierogies. I hadn't eaten anything from Bubba's in at least twenty years and it's still there in the same nondescript brick building on York Road, with the very same sign that they had in high school. The difference then was that Bubba's was brand new and today's Bubba's looks exactly like the Bubba's from 1986.

Desperate for something different and perhaps a taste of nostalgia, I rang them up and ordered a half cheesesteak sub with all the toppings except for "hots." The "hots" being sweet hot peppers in pickling juice - never my favorite add on, and an order of fries to go with it.

Heavy rains passed through the area and finally, after an hour and twenty minute wait, the driver appeared with my bag of food in tow.

Sad to say that it would have been better had I left Bubba's to the nostalgia of memory.

The meat was the sliced beef you typically find - bland, rubbery and not very exciting. Topped with random vegetables, slathered with mayonnaise and completely engulfed in a enriched white sub bun. Nothing remarkable. Nothing tantalizing. Just crap piled upon crap. Simple, cheap food designed to satisfy the blandest of palates and fill tummies with nothing good for you. It was just bad.

Now, I'm no locavore nazi. I'll take bad for your body so long as it nourishes the soul. This sub was just bad. I felt pangs on the right side of my tummy as though my body was begging for me to stop.

So I did.

I couldn't finish it. Just couldn't. I was hungry and soldiered on through the first half but stopped in the second because it was just too horrible. At least the fries were decent enough (for frozen fries) but served with El Cheap Foodservice Distributor grade ketchup. A ketchup so thin and runny that it's not even worth the effort to cut open the packs and squeeze it out.

I need to stop subjecting myself to suburban sprawl...


Bubba's Breakaway
905 York Road
Towson, MD 21204
410-296-4080

Taqueria La Poblanita

Tacos al Pastor times three!

I found myself in Jessup, Maryland today picking up some equipment and spied this taco truck on the side of the road.

Now, I know on the West Coast the sight of a taco truck is no cause for excitement or concern, but out here in the land of Taco Hell, flour tortillas and lots of grated cheddar cheese, a proper taco truck is quite notable indeed.

The menu is simple: tacos, quesadilla, menudo, flautas and a few other items. I decided to go for the tacos al pastor. Unlike the pastor the taqueros make in Mexico City, these are not roasted on a gyro machine. Sliced pork is cooked in a salsa rojo for the unique flavor and finished on the plancha. Serve with two tortillas, chopped white onion, lots of chopped cilantro, a wedge of lime and a side of salsa verde and puta y madre are they good. I had three.

I was greeted by an elderly man originally from Mexico City but who's been in the United States for 25 years. He's been in Maryland for only 8 months but doesn't quite like it here. He spent the better part of our time together telling me about his journey across America in five buses over four and a half days, interspersed with ten minute breaks for meals, no seat reservations, endless prairies, mind numbing boredom and smelly passengers. It reminded me of my own Bus Trip From Hell and being held and interrogated by the DEA and BATF in the middle of the California desert. Not pleasant.

Turns out his niece is from Puebla (hence the name) and this is her taco truck. She's the one doing the cooking and he's out front entertaining guests like me.

I don't get out to Jessup much, but Taqueria La Poblanita will be on my stop list the next time I'm out that way.


Taqueria La Poblanita
East side of Route 1
About halfway between Route 175 and Route 32 on Route 1
Jessup, MD

The Corner Stable

My old standby: Broasted Chicken Breast, half rack of babyback ribs with fries and beans.

I set out this evening with panang chicken on my mind, but when I arrived at FujiSan restaurant, they were already closed (crap, it's only 8pm on Sunday). I thought of journeying into the city but I just wasn't that committed and ended up across the street at the old favorite: The Corner Stable.

The Corner Stable is known for its' ribs. They're famous around these parts. A verifiable institution. That said, I think rib purists from around the country would scoff at their boiled ribs that are finished on the grill with sauce. I'd be willing to bet that some pitmasters would have a heart attack just thinking about boiled ribs. But this is the stuff I learned to love ribs on and it has a special place in my gastronomic dictionary.

Like I said, the ribs are boiled so they're incredibly tender and falling off the bone. The sauce is smoky and sweet, the broasted (read: fried) chicken is moist and tender, the beans are soft and supple and the fries crisp - what's not to like? Sure, if you're looking for an authentic smoked rib a la Memphis, Texas or South Carolina, you ain't gonna be happy here. But if you like incredibly tender babyback ribs in a smoky, slightly spicy and pungent sauce, The Corner Stable might be for you.


The Corner Stable
9942 York Road
Cockeysville, MD 21030
410-666-8722
www.thecornerstable.com

Flowers In Your Bulaklak

Dad shows off his illegal bounty.

The annual Fiesta Filipiniana was held today in Towson under a blazing sun and merciless humidity. A taste of the worst weather Baltimore has to offer. It was excruciating.

But the best part of any cultural festival is the food. Wild, exotic and tasty. Stuff that wouldn't (or couldn't) prepare at home. Stuff that your mom will lecture you on about the "bad fats." Unhealthy? Probably. Bad for the body but so good for the soul.

One of those things is Chicharon Bulaklak, which literally means "fried crispy flower" in Tagalog, the native language of the Philippines.

It's rich, crispy, fatty and best consumed with spicy vinegar and lots of San Miguel beer (though a cold Coke will do just fine). I highly recommend trying them. However, if you're one of those people that easily become squeamish about your food, it's probably better not to tell you what it is: fried pig intestines.

Yuck, you say? Then you haven't tried it. Absolutely brilliant. I bought a round for my dad and we shared a bonding moment over crispy fried pig intestines. Classic.

Preparing bulaklak is a pretty straightforward affair. Take some intestines, clean them out really well, toss into a pan and boil in water with a little vinegar, garlic, bay leaves and black peppercorns. Boil for a long time or plop it all into a pressure cooker on high for one hour. Once the intestines are ready, cut up into bite-size pieces and deep fry in peanut oil (or for a truly authentic Philippine touch: coconut oil) at 375F until golden brown and crispy. Dip into spicy vinegar (I recommend the organic coconut vinegar) and crunch away to arterial failure. Douse thyself with cold beer. Sleep.

Can't Pull The Trigger

Something must be wrong with me.

For the past six months I've known that I would be traveling to Copenhagen next week. For the past month, I've been contemplating extending that trip to Croatia. And for the past two weeks, I've gotten it into my mind that I must stop through Paris for dinner at Robert et Louise and baguettes from Stephane Secco.

The problem is: I can't seem to get myself to "pull the trigger" and purchase the tickets.

And my scheduled departure is next Sunday, June 15th.

Okay, travel procrastination is my specialty. It seems that I never purchase tickets more than three weeks out - even if I've known I would be traveling for months. Maybe that commitment is too finite. Maybe I like to fly by the seat of my pants. Maybe I'm just foolish.

I've been told that our accommodations in Copenhagen have been secured. Old friend Nik will be hosting me in Zagreb and I'll probably stay at the same place in Paris I did back in February. It's all happening but I can't seem to actually buy the ticket - and the deadline for the fare I've reserved is fast rushing towards me.

Could it be that I subconsciously don't want to go? Or could it be the American Dollar's horrific exchange rate with the Euro? The bills from my last trip to Europe can only be described as a "bloodbath." One money exchange place offered me thirty-five Quid for one hundred dollars and I've been scarred ever since.

I must have checked flights four times this week alone and each time I stop short of clicking "purchase itinerary", what is it that's holding me back?

Tonight will be now or never. Past tonight and we've broken the 7-Day Fare mark and the price of flights will skyrocket to a rate that I can no longer afford.

I'll let you know what happens.

Getting A New iPhone

The menu at Chez Pierrot, circa February 2008.

My iPhone has been acting a bit wonky these past couple of months and finally took a nosedive yesterday. Whatever was wrong with it stopped it from syncing with my laptop. It pretends to sync but does nothing. Months of notes, photos, addresses and appointments have been added, syncing is critical.

Made an appointment today with a Genius at the iPhone Bar at the local Apple Store. He's a good guy. Knowledgeable, friendly and helpful. After several tests, he confirms my worst fears: the iPhone needs to be replaced and unless we can download the data from the phone to the laptop, everything will be lost.

iScrewed.

It's a bit frustrating since the main reason I purchased the iPhone nearly a year ago was to prevent this kind of data loss from happening. A working backup of data that could be accessed separately or downloaded to a new phone. It's something that just hasn't been possible with the Nokias I used to own. I'm starting to think that Data Death and wireless phones will always go hand-in-hand.

At the last minute before they took away my old iPhone in favor of a new one (under warranty), I was able to get the iPhone to sync - or so I thought. It sync'd all of the new photos but hours later, after I had restored the data onto the new iPhone, everything was turned back to February 3, 2008.

That means that all of my contacts since that date are lost. Friends, family, business associates - but what's truly horrific is the loss of the digits from women. Shit - that really sucks. So please, if you're one of my friends, family, associates or sexy women that has given me your phone number these past few months - email me. Please. Especially L.A. Liz and Russian Luiza - especially you two.

So in my iPhone world, we're back in Paris to when the last effective sync happened. Evidently something happened to the hardware sometime after Paris that prevented the data from downloading. Merde.

Truth is, I'm notoriously hard on my equipment. I really lean on them - sometimes literally. The iPhone was pretty beaten up and it was no stranger to falling from high places. All year long, I marveled at the glass that never scratched - until I managed to step on it last Saturday at the Waverly Market, placing two gouges in the glass and a line of broken pixels on the screen.

Miraculously, the Genius decided that it wasn't damaged enough to void the warranty. God Bless Him. He did say it was "right on the edge" of being voided. He was quite generous and saved me two hundred bucks.

So I've got a brand new iPhone for my trip to Europe next week. With any luck, the new iPhone will come out soon and I won't feel bad about giving a used iPhone to my mom.

But for now, my iPhone thinks it's early February.

Lament Florent

Back in the late 1980s, I was a pretentious fuck.

On an average weekend (or weeknight, for that matter) from 1987 through 1988, it wasn't uncommon for us to hop in a car (or Amtrak Metroliner) and hit Manhattan for a night, or two. The downstairs VIP room at Tunnel, Nell's Basement and, once in a while, Palladium (but never Limelight) were our regular haunts attending parties being hosted by James St. James, Michael Alig or John Sex. It was a wild and absolutely ridiculous time. The late 80s: excess to the Max Headroom.

Like I said, we were pretentious fucks. Underage. Club-going and wearing the latest in avant garde haute couture. Clothing from designers like Rei Kawakubo (Comme des Garcons and my favorite), Azzedine Alaia, Stephen Sprouse, Jean-Paul Gaultier, Yohji Yamamoto and whatever style we decided to make ourselves (like the armored jackets made from safety pins).

In reality, we just wanted to be cool. We were young, hip, fashion forward and not afraid to let you know how lame you looked.

Like I said: pretentious fucks.

But after a night of partying in whatever Manhattan club suited our fancy, we usually ended up at a little diner in the meat-packing district called Florent.

Back then, the meat-packing district was just that: a bunch of meat warehouses with none of the restaurants or retail shopping that exists today. At 3am, it was dark and just starting to come to life with guys that worked in the district. Tough, burly guys who packed meat all day long. When we would actually emerge from Florent an hour or two later, the sun would be coming up and the neighborhood would be bustling.

Without realizing it, Florent was my first real introduction for French cuisine. I don't remember most of what we ordered back then, but I'll never forget the escargot bubbling in butter. While most of the world ate pancakes or burgers after a night of partying at 4 in the morning, we sat there eating snails in our sweaty designer clothing. Good times.

I write about this because during one of our conversations this past weekend, it came up that Florent will be closing soon. I looked it up online and found Frank Bruni's blog entry

After 23 years, Florent will close their doors this month. Seems that the rents have skyrocketed in the meat-packing district since it became a shopping and tourist mecca that's part of the Disney-fication of New York City. Seems that tenants like the Apple Store have caused rents to quadruple in this part of Manhattan, forcing out many of the businesses that gave the area it's unique charm and raison d'etre.

It's a sad time. A time for reflection. Maybe a time for a quick jaunt up to the city before Florent closes.

If you have time to visit, do it soon and have the escargot for me.

Florent
69 Gansevoort Street
New York City
212-989-5779
www.restaurantflorent.com

Getting Mushed

Woke up this morning, the world turned upside down,
Things ain't been the same since the Blues walked into town.


Woke up this morning feeling pretty much like I had been run over. Run over but with a great sense of accomplishment and excitement.

It's been a whirlwind three days since Aki and Alex rolled into town and brought the IdeasInFood.com bandwagon to town. Early mornings at the farmers markets, long days of classes that continued into evenings of chatting about food and life, culminating in last nights' eleven-course tasting menu dinner for 25 people at Woodberry Kitchen.

One of the problems I see as a professional barista is that we have a very narrow view of the world and our possibilities within. Almost all baristas are content with preparing what's on their standard menus - typically a collection of relatively boring and lame variations on the same concept: the trinity of coffee, milk and sugary something or other. Macchiatos, lattes, cappuccinos and oddly-named minor variations dominate the lexicon of the modern-day barista.

On the other hand, there's the cadre of competition-focused baristas who spend months (or perhaps years) developing, defining and refining a "signature drink" that is almost guaranteed to never touch the lips of anyone else but a competition judge because they're either too complicated for regular service or that barista secretly (or not so secretly) wishes he could just do away with the signature drink altogether because it's just a waste of their time.

What's really sad is that such a narrow focus prevents us from achieving mastery of our craft. So many baristas are so obsessed with the coffee that they won't see beyond. The thought of coffee and food is just odd. Absurd even.

For this tasting dinner, I was tasked with developing at least one coffee-related beverage to pair with a course. In the world of competition barista, this task would take place over months - with time to develop, refine and perfect. In this world of crazy, breakneck and create-it-as-you-go foodservice, I just wasn't going to have that luxury.

Originally, we were talking about a lamb-pairing. After doing a little research, I thought that a citrus-related drink would pair nicely. Of course, we're talking about seasonal ingredients and flying by the seat of our pants menu development and things would change once Aki and Alex arrived.

First up was the thought of a coffee pairing with either rockfish (striped bass) or fluke (a type of summer flounder). Sweet goes nicely with fluke, so I was partial to fluke. Of course, the decision was made to go with rockfish, making my task a bit more difficult.

With citrus in mind, I called up Daryn Berlin of Counter Culture Coffee and asked him to send me some samples for the dinner. I was looking for a citrus-y coffee to incorporate with the original lamb idea. They wouldn't arrive until the day of the dinner, which meant we had to work with something else. Digging around Woodberry's inventory came up with a bit of the La Golondrina from Huila, Colombia. It's a nice coffee that would have to suffice since the beverage I had in mind would take three days (at least) to prepare.

First step was to mix a half pound of coffee with a half gallon of cold water and steep for nine hours. Would have liked to have gone longer, but nine hours was all the time I had available. After nine hours, strain the mixture, mix with .5% gelatin and freeze overnight. The next day, wrap the bugger in cheesecloth and allow to thaw in a colander over a sheet pan for 36 hours.

The idea was to create a lightly sweet and tarty lemonade with a lingering coffee quality utilizing this coffee "consomme." I wanted a clear liquid that wouldn't affect the yellow-ish color of the lemonade but that would still have a coffee flavor. Unfortunately, the consomme liquid was clear but it wasn't "clear." It still had the brown color of coffee, just with brilliant clarity. Not a disaster but this consomme would most certainly affect the color of the lemonade.

After doing a couple of tests, I came up with this recipe:

Lemon juice - 11%
Simple Syrup - 15% (syrup made of 50/50 sugar to water ratio)
Consomme - 12.5%
Water - 61.5%

This recipe yielded a lightly sweet and tarty lemonade with a smooth and lingering coffee flavor. It had the sweet zing of lemonade with the lingering finish of coffee. Success.

The real problem came when I scaled up the recipe to make 5 liters.

The ratios developed were based on weight, not volume. But when it came time to calculate the weights of the ingredients, I calculated the weights except for one: the water.

Water in and of itself is par for both weight and volume. Meaning that one milliliter of water weighs one gram. Same goes for fluid ounces and weight ounces. Problem is that the consomme, simple syrup and lemon juice weigh more than water.

So, after calculating this recipe:

550g lemon juice
750g simple syrup
625g consomme

I left the note: "to volume: water" for Corey, who was mixing the batch for me.

Since those ingredients are heavier than water (with lesser volume) and the recipe is based on weight (not volume), when the time came to fill the container to the 5 liter mark (instead of weighing the entire batch to 5 kilos), the mix was too "watery" and lacked the punch, depth and complexity we were looking for.

The mix needed more punch, more depth - more "oomph." Added a little more simple syrup, some sassafras syrup that was sitting around and some salt and voila! - something worth drinking.

In the end, the drink made it onto the menu for the fourth course where it was paired with a Middlin Risotto with bacon, lovage and gouda.

A Day in the Land of Pleasant Living

A small gaggle of plants.

It was an absolutely gorgeous day today in Baltimore. One of those days that reminds me of Hawaiian weather and makes living in Maryland enjoyable.

Started off with the weekly trip to the Waverly Farmers Market. Didn't get there until eleven and it was jam-packed. Even last week when we got there at nine, it too was jam-packed. After a winter of shopping at the farmers market with everything for our picking pleasure, it kinda sucks to be awash in a sea of humanity. But at least the produce is looking good. Unfortunately, the peas and asparagus were already gone. But I did score some nice morels, some breads, a whole bunch of herbs, white potatoes, tomatoes (finally!), ginger and a great stash of beef short ribs from Woolsey Farm. Add to that cases of beautiful spring onions, spinach and sassafras root for Woodberry and we were on our way.

For lunch, we decided to give Baltimore Pho another try. Some of you may remember that our first visit there was less than stellar. I'm happy to report that they've stepped it up a bit and the pho broth is rich and tasty. It's got some oomph and I'm looking forward to our next visit.


A small gaggle of potted plants.

While at the market, I decided to give gardening a try. Once upon a time, I used to cultivate bonsai. But that was way back in the early nineties and I hadn't done it since. Last year I bought bonsai supplies from Dallas Bonsai but never got around to it. Not too sure how good my green thumb is but I guess I'll find out.

Reid Orchards offers a variety of heirloom vegetables and herbs that are organic and hothouse raised. They're three bucks each. I went with some cilantro, Gorizia rosemary, basil, hot peppers, green peppers, spearmint, parsley and thyme. Repotted them with some topsoil from Home Depot (okay, I know it's not organic but it was only a $1.17 for a 40# bag) and they're off to the races. I'm hoping for an endless supply of cilantro for my explorations in Mexican cooking and some tasty tomatoes but we'll see.

Since it was such a lovely day, I decided that grilling season was open and hauled out the trusty New Braunfels charcoal grill. Now, I've had the opportunity to cook on a variety of gas grills and I have to say that I just don't like them. They just don't get hot enough for me. Sure, charcoal takes forever to burn down to the coals but gosh does it taste good - especially if you're using real wood charcoal. Gas just can't beat it on terms of flavor.

BTW, the only gas grill I would want for home is the professional MagiCater. That grill generates tremendous heat and just kicks ass.




While the coals were still burning hot, I started the seasoning process for a new wok I purchased a couple of weeks ago. Seasoning a wok takes some time so it's a good thing I've got the other wok at the ready. Grilled up a simple ribeye from Woolsey with salt and pepper, then sauteed some blanched almonds, sliced white onions and asparagus in the wok with a little butter, canola oil and salt. Serve with a side of steamed white basmati rice, Mexican Coke and Paul Garmirian Soiree cigar under the beautiful sunshine and all is well.

Not too long after, some friends came over to partake of the grill action. Fresh chicken breasts on the grill with salt & pepper, grilled portabella mushrooms, grilled sweet corn and mesclun salad with a sesame soy vinaigrette (okay, that was store bought). Maria, our burgeoning casual sommelier brought over a couple of Australian reds that just blossomed as we continued drinking and all was well for round two.

Round three brought another friend over with a london broil in tow. He's got a little bit of a different taste than the rest of us and loves to slather his meats in whatever sweet sauce he can get his hands on at Costco. Today's slather was some syrupy sweet jerk sauce.

Add to that more wine, more cigars and lots of great discussion and it was a perfectly pleasant day here in the Land of Pleasant Living.

Hope your day was as enjoyable as mine.

Deconstructing Dr. Pepper

How about this?

Take a breast of lamb (local, farm raised, you know my deal), season with salt & pepper, sear with a blowtorch, toss it into a bag with some Dr. Pepper and some dill, vacuum seal and sous vide for several hours at 58.5C.

I'm thinking about a coffee pairing with the lamb and am trying to understand the Dr. Pepper a little bit more. While I haven't gone out to the store (yet) to pick up a six-pack and Dublin Dr. Pepper (the only Dr. Pepper) is days away (and no, it's not from Ireland), I'm trying to reconstruct the flavors from memory.

They say there are 23 different flavors in Dr. Pepper. Of course, if you believe that then you believe that Colonel Sanders really did use 11 herbs and spices to create his chicken. I'm thinking that Dr. Pepper has vanilla, almond, sassafrass, cardamom, cloves, and salt. My internet readings come up with ideas like: burnt rum, star anise, ginger, black berry, apricot, prune, plum, oranges and molasses.

So why the obsession with Dr. Pepper? Thinking about flavor components in the marinade to play off of in the accompanying drink. How to pair a coffee beverage with the course, that's the task at hand.

If you have any thoughts to share on the 23 flavors or just ideas in general, let me know. I'll report back as things progress.

Ideas In Food On Tour

Blog favorites Aki Kamozawa and Alex Talbot of Ideas In Food fame are taking their show on the road next month and coming down to Baltimore and staging a dinner at Woodberry Kitchen on Monday, June 2nd.

In case you're unfamiliar, Alex and Aki run one of my favorite blogs. They're chefs who met in the kitchens of their careers, fell in love, got hitched and now share their culinary adventures together. They're currently without a restaurant which means they spend their days experimenting with food in their Queens kitchen (the place, not the size). Oh, the things one could do if they didn't have to actually spend their day answering phones, paying bills, managing staff, ordering product, hob nob-ing with the public, not to mention the actual work of cooking or making coffee on the line. Luckily for us, they do the experimentation and we can reap the benefits.

I don't know what they have in store (yet) but I'm sure it's going to be wonderful and interesting. You can see their notes on the event here.

It's going to be a sit-down, nine course meal with beverage pairings. The cost for dinner will be $150 per person and seating will be limited to twenty people. So, if you want to get in on it, contact Woodberry now.