Butcher & the Burger: Fifth Time and Still Charmed

Days like today demand a really good lunch.  I decided I'd treat myself for once and nab a burger at one of my favorite neighborhood spots.  And I went technology-free for a change, so I could just enjoy my meal.

There are few places where I enjoy dining alone (Starbucks, at home...), but after today, I've decided that Butcher & the Burger makes the list.  Their row of industrial-chic barstools (if that's what you can call them) beckons to the solo diner.  I brought along newspapers, snatched a glass-bottle Coke from the cooler, and ordered my burger as such:

• House prime blend
• Steakhouse seasoning
• Split-top egg bun
• Cheddar
• Ketchup, mustard, mayo
• Pickles

Normally I go with goat cheese and griddled onions and griddled mushrooms, but I just wanted something simple today, something sort of classic, something that would go with that end-of-summer feeling and my very analog choice of reading materials.

I ordered my burger cooked medium-well.  It was a bit pinker in the middle than I anticipated, but I find grayness in a patty far more concerning than pink.  The outside had a great char on it, and it was still perfectly juicy in the middle.  It wasn't necessarily the doneness I thought I had wanted, but it was the doneness that the burger deserved.  That really says something about the place: They know how it should be made.

I ate at the side counter, facing the outdoor patio, thumbing through the food reviews and literature sections of the Reader while leisurely enjoying my lunch.  It became clear to me why newspapers, and not phones, are the ideal reading material while eating a burger.  I have no qualms about flipping pages in the RedEye when I have grease on my hands.  I'm not saving the papers for anything special, I can just throw them away.  Ketchup on my mobile device?  No thanks.

I found, as I always do, a bit of nostalgia in going to Butcher & the Burger, and I'm not quite sure why. I say this because I'm too young to have experienced the "classic" burger joint.  But I understand its appeal, the way it makes you feel.  It's not my first time eating there, or my second.  It still hasn't lost its luster.  And I'm going to share it with as many people as I can, because everyone needs to experience that feeling that you're coming back to a place you've never been.

Until Next Time,

~The Amateur Foodie

Happy Birthday, Sis! An Unintentionally Italian Fête (Plus Pie!)

I am not Italian.  Let's be clear about it.  But I love me some Italian food (as you might already know from my near-innumerable postings about Antico Posto in Oakbrook).

My sister requested stuffed shells for her birthday, and the menu that resulted ended up being pseudo-Italian and super delicious.

I'll admit, I made the shells from the recipe on the package.  It was simple enough but tedious at the same time.  If you're not a patient person, make lasagna instead.  The first shell I stuffed was neat and pretty; I made a cannelle from the filling and gingerly placed it in the pasta.  By the time I got to the last one, I'm pretty sure I was angry and had ricotta in my hair.  My best suggestion for the shells is this: make them ahead of time, arrange them in the pan, and stick it in the fridge until about 45 minutes before you're ready to eat dinner.  Nobody needs to see you cussing out a casserole dish.  Trust me.

Now, since pasta's pretty heavy (especially the kind filled with all manner of delicious cheesiness and topped with sausage-y tomato sauce) the only side dishes I made were salads.  Grape tomatoes looked excellent at the grocery store, so I halved two pints to make a caprese salad.  Here's how it went down:

Caprese Salad a la Foodie:

2 pints grape tomatoes, halved and salted to draw out moisture (stick them in a colander over a bowl for about 20 minutes)
8 oz. fresh mozzarella cut into 1/2 inch cubes
4-5 large leaves of basil cut into ribbons just before serving
2 Tsp. Balsamic vinegar
3 Tsp. extra-virgin olive oil
~1 Tsp. honey (maybe a little less)
Salt and pepper

Toss the mozzarella and tomatoes together.  In a small bowl, whisk the vinegar, oil, and honey with a pinch of salt and fresh-cracked pepper.  (You won't use all the dressing for this amount of salad.  Either store the remainder or use it for salad.)  Pour dressing, to taste, over tomatoes and cheese and add in basil.  Toss gently to coat and chill before serving.

I also threw together a great big romaine salad with thinly sliced hearts of romaine lettuce, quartered grape tomatoes, and a little thinly sliced red onion (which I rinsed with cold water and soaked for a while in a mixture of balsamic and water to take some of the sharpness out).

We usually go crazy with appetizers, but I wanted to do something simple this time around. We'd purchased a trio of Italian cheeses and some fruit, so I set up a little cheese board.  It featured Balsamic Bellavitano (strong, aged, nutty, with Balsamic vinegar), Parmesan SarVecchio (aged, sweet, nutty, a little caramel-y) and Asiago Fresco (a bit like Swiss, tasty but not my favorite) along with quartered black figs, sliced Fuji apple, and crackers.  Coupled with a nice Cuvee red wine and a sweet white, these snackies were an all-around crowd pleaser.

Dessert was pie (not homemade, regrettably, but darlings, I just didn't have the time!).  Also, fun fact: you can make your pie into a milkshake.  I won't go into details about why I made it.  Just know it's yummy.

Apple Pie Shake (Serves 2)

1 slice Dutch apple pie
2 scoops vanilla ice cream
1 cup 2% milk

Throw it all in a blender and blend on high until smooth.  Taste it and be amazed (I know I was).

I'm still full...I guess it was a success.

Happy Almost-Labor Day!

~AF

Recipe: Cheddar-Rosemary Braided Pizza Bread Loaf

I know the name's a mouthful, but the recipe's a snap.  And it's delicious and pretty!

Ingredients:

1 tube pizza dough (I used Pillsbury)
Fresh rosemary
Sharp cheddar
1/2 Tsp. butter, melted
Coarse-ground black pepper, to taste

Instructions:

1. Preheat your oven to 350 degrees.

2. Unroll the pizza dough. Sprinkle minced rosemary and about half of the sharp shredded cheddar down the middle third of the dough.

3. Using a sharp knife, cut a series of slits in the outer two thirds of the dough so that they form strips perpendicular to the way the loaf will run. This is very difficult to describe without a visual, so the next time I make this, I'll be sure to post photos of the dough cutting. Frankly, it ends up looking like fringe.

4. Fold the strips over the middle, angling them slightly, alternating right-left, right-left, down the length of the loaf. When you get to the end, tuck the strips underneath.

5. Brush the top of the loaf with the melted butter and top with the remainder of the shredded cheese and a little more minced rosemary. Add some black pepper if desired.

6.

The prettiest (and first) pizza bread-thing I've ever made.

Bake for about 20 minutes or until golden.

As I said, difficult to visualize without pics.  I have a snap of the result though. Check back later for a bread-braiding tutorial. Because I now realize that'd be a great thing indeed.

~AF

Recipe! Farmer's Market Potatoes with Rosemary

Last time we went to the farmer's market, we picked up a whole bunch of beautiful yellow fingerling potatoes, and last night's dinner called for a little starchy goodness to go alongside.  So naturally, I threw something together with what I had lying around.  Here's what I came up with (it's easy and delicious!):

Ingredients:

2 c. fingerling potatoes, washed
1 Tsp. sweet cream butter (unsalted)
1 Tsp. extra-virgin olive oil
1 tsp. fresh rosemary
Salt
Black pepper (fresh-ground, as always!)

Instructions:

1. Cut the potatoes into coins, between a quarter- and a half-inch thick.

2. Heat a sauté pan over medium heat with 1/2 Tsp. butter and 1/2 Tsp. olive oil. You'll need to cook the potatoes in two batches to get them evenly golden.

3. Spread half the potatoes in a single layer in the bottom of the pan. Sauté for about five minutes on the first side, then flip and sauté for five minutes on the other side.  If the potatoes aren't brown enough for your liking, continue to cook until they reach the desired color.

4. Before the potatoes finish, sprinkle a pinch or two of salt over the rosemary and chop it finely.  Place the rosemary-salt mixture in the bottom of your serving dish, along with a couple grinds of black pepper.

5. Once the potatoes are cooked, pour them over the rosemary and salt, and stir to distribute.

6. Repeat with the second batch of potatoes, using the remaining butter and olive oil to sauté.

I like to use a serving dish with a cover on it so I can just pop the lid on and give the potatoes a shake to coat them with the salt and herbs.  This side goes well with just about anything (bratwurst, portobello mushroom "burgers," actual burgers, chicken, etc...).  I dare you not to sneak a few before you serve this up.

Happy Cooking!

~AF

Oh No, You Didn't! Pork-on-Pork-on-Pretzel Roll at B&tB

Now, you guys already know how much I enjoyed my last trip to Butcher & the Burger on Armitage in Lincoln Park.  It was awesome, there was Mexican Coca-Cola, yada, yada, yada...

The burger I had this time was just as good (house prime blend with steakhouse seasoning on a split-top butter egg bun, lettuce, goat cheese, mayo, grilled onion, grilled mushroom...all ingredients that make for a soupy, delicious burger that runs down your wrist and dribbles onto your lap).  But it was my sister's sammie that surprised me the most.

She ordered the pork burger.  To me, that didn't sound all that impressive.  I WAS WRONG, KIDDIES.  I am so, so sorry for doubting.

Because this was no ordinary ground pork patty.  It was seasoned like a sausage patty.  Delicious.  Like, seriously awesome.  Add to that the bacon she ordered on top, plus barbecue sauce and cheddar?  Insane.  Delicious.  All on a pretzel roll.  It was a little country-western-Oktoberfest, and I mean that in the best way.  And it was so clean to eat.  No running cheeses or mushroom juice...what a sensible gal.

Of course we got a big ol' basket of the Kennebec fries to split, and I got the glass-bottled Coke.  And we snarfed it all before I thought to snap a photo.

I'll be back for ya in the fall, guys.  I just ate there this afternoon.  I'm already hungry for more.

Happy Summer!

~AF

Food + Art (Part 2!)

Well, kiddies, I've gone to the Park Grill yet again.  This is the...third time?  Once again, delicious.  This time there was tapenade and rustic bread, which I am so happy about.

The bread basket came with a too-small bowl of superb olive tapenade, one that tasted strongly of vinegar and Spanish olives and citrus.  I could've just eaten it with a spoon.  As you can imagine, it was gone before I could snap a photo.

Pear Salad at the Park Grill,
with Chicken

My entree was a lovely pear salad with bleu cheese, reconstituted dried cherries (the waiter never told us what they were soaked in, unfortunately), hazelnuts, and chicken (an added charge, but a wise addition).  It is because of this salad that I'm adding mesclun greens to my list of foods that you cannot eat while still managing to look classy.  Spinach stems hanging out of the corners of your mouth unless you turn every lettuce leaf into a work of origami?  Too.  Much.  Work.  And decidedly unattractive.  No me gusta.

Reuben at the Park Grill.
Anybody else hungry?

Mom finally made it to lunch with us!  She had an awesome reuben sandwich on super-toasty marbled rye, topped with a very pickle-y thousand island dressing.  It had just the right balance of meat, cheese, and kraut.  Well done, PG.  Well done.  It was served with a dill pickle spear and a mound of those excellent fries (which essentially meant I really had pear salad and french fries for lunch, but let's not get too technical, okay?).

My sis got the Grand burger again, and it was grand.  Equally as good as the last, not to worry.  You know what it looks like.  If you don't, check my last lunch-at-the-Park post.

My aunt had the spring risotto, which was lovely and creamy with a strong garlic flavor.  It was made with peas and mushrooms.  I was jealous of her lunch, I'll admit.  Especially since you could eat it and still look sophisticated (darned mesclun greens...).  I forgot to take a picture.  And I'm so, so sorry, lovies.

Our purpose in meeting at the park/AIC was to see photographer Abelardo Morell.  He's hilarious.  And so honest and upfront about his photography.  What a cool guy.  Check out his website!  His photos are fabulous!  His retrospective exhibit will be on display at the Art Institute until September 2.

I know the food photos pale in comparison to a well-executed camera obscura.  But the New York skyline rarely makes me drool...

Peace, Love, and Good Eating!

~AF

A Day At the Park (Grill!)

Hey, hey!  The Foodie's back and ready to dish on some dishes.

On the schedule today?  Pablo Picasso at the AIC, and, natch, lunch at the Park Grill next door.

Today was absolutely gorgeous.  The weather was so warm that I could go without a coat, so of course I obliged.  I could've just walked around outside for hours and hours and hours...but I'm only human.  I was getting hungry.

My aunt, sister, and I were planning on hitting the Picasso exhibit at the Art Institute, and the most convenient lunch spot for us was the Park Grill.  Last time we were there, we had Sunday brunch (chilaquiles, chicken and waffles...ringing any bells?).  Today we were in the mood for sandwiches and salads.

Turkey Pastrami Club at the Park Grill

I gravitated toward a Turkey Pastrami Club.  It consisted of turkey pastrami (as in, turkey prepared in the style of a pastrami with lots of assertive and delicious spices and that perfect, slightly chewy, peppery crust around the edges), thick-cut bacon (can I get an amen?), avocado, heirloom tomatoes, aioli, and alfalfa sprouts, all served with fresh-cut fries and a dill pickle spear.

I liked the sandwich, but I didn't love it.  The concept of pastrami-style turkey was genius, and it was very well executed.  The bacon was ah-mazing.  I love me some avocado.  But the heirloom tomato needed salt and there were altogether too many sprouts for my taste.  The fries were tasty though.

My sister had the Grand Burger, which I would choose for my next Park Grill lunch.  A juicy, well-seasoned beef patty is topped with bacon, onion straws, and cheese, plus a barbecue sauce-mayo mashup (PG sauce) that is surprisingly smoky and delicious.

Sometimes the simple choices are the best, and I wish I had gone with something a little less complex (though I hate to admit it).

Even simpler than the Grand Burger was my aunt's steak salad.  The beef was perfectly cooked and tender, served with a simple salad of iceberg lettuce and a few heirloom cherry tomatoes, all dressed in a slightly creamy dressing.

[Here I would like to apologize for my lack of specificity...I didn't take notes on the dishes and the menu online isn't up to date.]

Honey-Lavendar Crème Brûlée

Apple Galette

Dessert consisted of a honey-lavendar crème brûlée (shared between my aunt and myself) and an apple galette.  The brûlée reminded me of lemon-lavendar shortbread.  And by that I mean I loved it.  The galette was warm and flaky and topped with vanilla ice cream(!).  And it was all gorgeous.

I'm sorry if this post seems a little...lacking in pizzazz.  I'm really tired tonight, lovies, but I'll go back through and polish this up when I get a chance.

Peace, Love and Zzzzz....

~af.

The Great Ones Among Us

I've never professed to be any sort of great critic.  That definition would be highly subjective anyway.  But I know there is such thing as a great critic.  Perhaps first and foremost among critics, and especially here in Chicago, there stood only one, the legendary Roger Ebert.

Simply by virtue of my age, I am admittedly no great expert on Ebert and his work.  Through the magic of social networking, though, I've come to appreciate his wit through both Tweets and blog posts.  He was certainly one of a kind.

And it was not until today that I understood just how much I am really going to miss reading his writing.  A screenwriting student in one of my classes very nearly broke down in tears upon hearing of Ebert's passing.  The effect for me was far less immediate, but after reading a slew of touching memorial tweets by his friends, fellow journalists, and moviegoers alike, I find myself a bit choked up at the thought of his Twitter feed and his blog going silent.

He was unabashedly steadfast in his own opinions, something I feel many of us writers (both amateur and professional) find difficult to do in a world that can be so harshly critical.  If he didn't like a movie but you did, you could extol its virtues six ways to Sunday and you still wouldn't be able to budge him from his stance.  He came off as curmudgeonly and frank.  Although at first glance it seemed  a bit brusque and difficult to adjust to, his manner is one I hope to emulate (though certainly not replicate, for that would be impossible).

As a person and a personality, he was not conventional by any means.  On the anniversary of Gene Siskel's death, he posted a link on Twitter to an interview he did with Siskel on Howard Stern's show.  During the interview, he was gruff at times, humorous at others.  It was conducted during the nascent stages of his relationship with the woman he would later marry, and when Stern inquired about Ebert's relationship with someone of a different race, Ebert basically said 'So what?' (In my humble opinion, there was also a bit of a 'Screw you' implied, and if there was, I don't blame him. Because what does it really matter anyway?).  That is the one part of the interview that truly stuck with me.  It wasn't necessarily shocking; I found it respectable because of his refusal to censor himself or hide his own feelings.

That was the way Ebert conducted himself, and that was the way he wrote.  His actions were unapologetic, his opinions required no further explanation, and even though he seemed irascible at times, people still respected him.  I would imagine he loved blogging; no 'bleep' to hold him back, no one to tell him what topics were off limits...

Ebert even wrote about his own death.  An excerpt from his book, posted online after he passed and tweeted out shortly thereafter by British actor Stephen Fry, demonstrates that he approached the end with the same tenacity he exhibited in everything.  He was not afraid of it.  I'll post the link here if you'd care to peruse it.

This weekend I plan to visit his blog and truly read it, perhaps even start to finish.  I want to remember him by his writing, in all of its feisty frankness.

I'm sorry to have only realized my desire to read his writings at the moment of his death.  But someone wrote about that once, didn't they?  Ah, The Band Perry... "funny when you're dead how people start listening..."

I heard bits and pieces before, but I'm listening now.  Rest in peace, Roger.  As many have already tweeted today, The Balcony Is Closed.

Sincerely and Respectfully, A Fellow Writer:

~AF

Easter Egg Strata! (And Other Spring Culinary Escapades)

The brunch is tomorrow morning!  All my ingredients are prepped, and I'm just waiting to make the custard and throw everything together.  Here's how it goes:

Egg Strata

2 c chopped bell peppers
1 medium onion, diced
1 dozen eggs
12 oz sausage (your favorite)
1/4 tsp. thyme
1/4 tsp. dry mustard
1.5 c milk
1.5 c half and half
8 cups cubed bread
2 c. sharp cheddar cheese, shredded
Butter
Extra virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste

1. Sauté the veggies!  I recommend slow-cooking the onions first so they get nicely caramelized.  I add about a tablespoon of olive oil to a frying pan and cook them over low heat.  Once they become translucent, I add a pat of butter and the thyme and stir the onions, allowing them to continue cooking until they take on a slightly golden tinge.  This ensures their sweetness.  Remove from the pan and set aside.  Then cook the bell peppers in a tablespoon of olive oil over medium heat, lightly salted, until they are softened and slightly golden around the edges.

2. Break the sausage into small chunks, and brown it in batches over medium heat.  I like to make sure that the sausage is entirely cooked; it will warm in the casserole, but if there's any residual rawness, it'll still be there even after you bake!

3. Refrigerate the veggies and sausage to cool them down before adding them to the eggs!

4. The custard for the dish is comprised of the eggs, milk, half and half, dry mustard, and 1.5 cups of cheese.  The remainder will be sprinkled over the top of the casserole.  Whisk together the eggs and liquid first, then fold in the cheese.

5. Add the bread to the custard, gently tossing to combine.  Add in your accoutrements (peppers, sausage, onions) and toss to combine.

6. Pour everything into a greased 9x13" baking dish, pressing down slightly.  Make sure most of the extra custard goes into the pan.

7. Refrigerate overnight, if desired (you can also let it sit for an hour or so to let the custard absorb).  When you're ready to cook, top the casserole with 1/2 c reserved cheddar and bake at 375F for 45 minutes until the top is golden.

In other news, I can't wait for farmers' markets, loves.  I just want spring veggies.  I'll let you know how the strata goes over at Easter brunch.  Happy Easter if you celebrate it, Happy Spring if not!

~AF

Your Morning Yolk's New Best Friend

Maybe this isn't anything revolutionary.  But it sure is tasty...

You know when you get a jar of pasta sauce (good pasta sauce, something authentic and rustic) and you're left with too much sauce to toss and too little to use on another batch of linguine?

I have the solution, lovies.  My sauce of choice today?  A zingy, tangy arrabiata sauce, left over from last night's cincue colori conchiglie alla arrabiata (phew, that's a mouthful...a tasty, tasty mouthful).  My recipe?  A fried egg and focaccia sandwich with a shmear of the tomatoey stuff.

Here's how it goes.

Egg Sandwich Italiana

1 large egg
Sandwich-sized piece of focaccia (any kind you like)
1 tsp arrabiata sauce
Salt and pepper
Olive oil

1. Split focaccia, drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle lightly with salt.  Toast in toaster oven until golden brown.

2. Heat olive oil in a frying pan or skillet until it glistens.  Fry egg on one side, then add about a quarter cup of water to the pan and cover.  The egg should steam for about two minutes, sealing in the yolk under a thin layer of egg white and leaving it runny.  Top the egg with a bit of salt and a touch of cracked black pepper.

3. Smear the arrabiata on one half of the focaccia.  Place the egg on the bread and enjoy.

The sammy's messy, but it's delicious.  The fatty, savory yolk complements the acidic and spicy tomato sauce.  It works the same way as the hot sauce I liberally apply to my bell pepper and egg sandwiches.  And the focaccia?  Well, that just serves as a tasty, crusty bread that holds up to the cascade of runny yolk and reinforces the Italian-ness of the dish.

Molto buono.  Molto, molto buono.

Buon appetito!

~AF

A Bad Case of the Mondays

We've all had those days.  For some, it's sleeping through an alarm.  For others, it's getting a parking ticket the minute the meter ticks down to zero.  For me, it's getting locked out of my room.

Yep.  My lock stopped working.  My phone was in my room.  My phone, guys.  That's a big deal.  But not to worry, maintenance fixed it.

And this was after an awesome weekend too.

Every time I go home for the weekend, I feel like I gain the "Freshman 15."  I don't pig out at school.  Honest.  But when I go home...

No more than twenty minutes after walking in the door, my pizza rolls were in the microwave waiting to be eaten.  I enjoyed barbecue, Mexican food...

While I was eating my leftover chimichanga for lunch in my dorm room today, I came to the realization that I can actually eat well at school.  Case in point: the vegetable crudités I purchased in the cafeteria to eat alongside the aforementioned chimichanga.  It felt like a veggie cleanse after all the delicious junk I ate over the weekend.

I love being at home, but there's not a buffet-like plethora of über-healthy options to pick from.  I wish there were, but it just isn't realistic to have edamame and bell peppers and carrots and celery and pineapple and spring mix lettuce and vegan beans and rice and veggie patties.  Not everyone in our house eats like that.  Plus, it's the beginning of March, for crying out loud.

Where are the farmer's markets?!?

I can't wait for warm weather just because of those farmer's markets.  I have good intentions to binge on vegetation as soon as good produce becomes available.  But until then, I'm stuck eating from the cafeteria.  Which, as I'm finding out, isn't necessarily so bad.

~AF

For the Tea Drinker

I love tea.  Well, not all tea.  I love iced tea, I hate green tea, I love British blend tea, and I despise lukewarm tea of any sort.  My absolute favorite is the iced tea my grandma makes, even though she adds sweetener to it.  It's the tea I grew up on.

I used to be a full-packet-of-sweetener kind of gal.  Any time I ordered iced tea from a restaurant, I'd empty the packet into my cup and add even more when the server topped it off.  We never call the sweeteners by their brands; only by the color of the packets.  I switched to yellow when it came about, but because of my grandma, I started off partial to blue.  Then eventually I discovered raw sugar and went with that for a while.  But my juvenile taste buds matured about five years ago and I haven't voluntarily sweetened my tea since.

My aunt makes great tea.  It's strong.  Like, put-some-hair-on-your-chest strong.  Two packets of black tea and one of green, then steep in hot water until it's the color of coffee; cool to room temp on the counter and serve over ice.  If you're bold enough to drink this tea at all then there's no reason to sweeten it.  It's grown-up tea (and not the kind with rum and triple sec and all manner of other craziness) (in case you're wondering, yes I did need to Google 'Long Island Iced Tea' to figure out what's in it...I don't dabble with that stuff).

My favorite hot tea du jour is currently Suzette's Jasmine Orangerie.  It's loose-leaf tea that comes in a tres chic little red bag.  The flavor is light and floral with notes of orange.  Follow the directions on the bag to the letter; brew it any longer than two minutes and it starts to taste a little mucky.  I'll let you know if I find anything I like better, but I still have about a dozen teacups' worth of Orangerie left in the bag.  Talk to me in a couple weeks.

And now I think I'll brew another cup before the Blackhawks game starts.  It's part of my tradition.

~AF

Chicago Restaurant Week: Just the Right Time to Visit Frontera...Again.

I'm back, Frontera! ¡A comer!

I ate at Frontera on Friday, the first day of Chicago Restaurant Week.  And I got the Restaurant Week menu.  Three courses, twenty-two dollars.  You read that right, twenty-two dollars.  That's about how much you'd pay just for an entree!

Restaurant Week lasts until February 10.  Here's a link to Frontera's featured menu, if you'd care to peruse: http://www.rickbayless.com/news/view?articleID=259

Course one, the Huitlacoche Enchiladas, had an interesting balance of flavors.  The French-fried red onions on top presented a glimmer of familiarity in a dish otherwise entirely unique and foreign to me.  The huitlacoche itself wasn't too assertive, something I appreciated since I'd never had it before.  I mostly tasted the black beans, with a hint of...huitlacoche funkiness.  Not bad funkiness, just funkiness.  It's one of those flavors you can't quite put your finger on.  The tomatillo sauce was sharp and acidic, a welcome attribute in a plate of rich beans, fried onions, and crumbled cheese.

Next to arrive at the table was the phenomenally beautiful Gunthorp pork with apricot mole.  The apricot mole didn't scream apricot, but it complemented the pork in a way that only a stone fruit could.  As in any good sauce, the heat in the mole doesn't hit you in the first bite; instead it builds over time, nuanced and complex.  Atop the pork was a grilled apricot salsa, something I had difficulty identifying when the dish was put in front of me.  I enjoyed it immensely.  The salsa's texture contrasted perfectly with the tender pork and smooth butternut squash.  The spinach gave the plate the bitterness it needed to counteract the sweet squash and sweet-spicy mole.

The final movement in this symphony was a superb interpretation of the pastel tres leches.  Perched upon a smear of sweet goat's milk cajeta, the cake is reminiscent of a pound cake that's been dipped in milk.  Not too wacky, right?  Wrong.  Because once we get beyond the caramel and cake, Frontera starts to get a little crazy.  The cake is topped with little dollops of soft, lightly toasted meringue, with a texture reminiscent of marshmallow crème.  Then, in a stroke of genius, the cake is topped with supremes of blood orange and candied blood orange rind.  The sharp citrus, similar in flavor to a cross between a grapefruit and an orange (at least to my taste), kept the dish from seeming too cloyingly sweet.

Dessert went perfectly with my café de olla, its blood orange slices subtly echoing the orange zest flavor in the coffee.

I cannot applaud this special menu more.  Get out there and try it.  It's a fantastic price for fantastic food.  Nothing like a little Frontera to alleviate the winter blues.

~The Amateur Foodie

Hey, Mom! I Got My Lunch From a Couple Guys in a Truck Today!

I wouldn't generally condone just accepting food from someone off the street.  Unless of course the food in question comes out of a giant truck with a cast iron skillet painted on the side.

That, my friends, is the Southern Mac.

They cruise around town, bringing happiness and carbs to the people of Chicago.  I, for one, love carbs, so these guys are awesome in my book.

I'm on board with the mac-in-a-truck idea for a few reasons (not least of all that it's not cafeteria food).  It's convenient.  It's fast.  It's pretty darn economical (six bucks for regular mac, but hey, it's big enough for two meals...and it's not cafeteria food).  And it's delish.

Ah, yes...the Classic.

The guys have a couple options to choose from on the truck, and I almost got a mushroom-truffle concoction.  I plan on getting fancy-dancy macaroni next time, but to truly measure a food truck's worth, I say go for the most bare-bones, simple item available.  Go for the classic mac 'n' cheese.

Classic macaroni and cheese to some is merely a plate of macaroni pasta drenched in fluorescent orange "cheese" sauce.  (No.  No, it's not.  And shame on you for believing that.)  The Southern Mac's classic is made with aged cheddar (thank you!) and topped with buttery bread crumbs.

It was rich.  Nothing wrong with that, really.  It's what you need on a cold day.  But I'd like to make one small, teeny-tiny, itty-bitty suggestion: May I please have a dill pickle with my macaroni?

I know it's weird!  Okay?  I get it!  But I needed something to cut through all the butter and cream and cheddary goodness!  It doesn't even need to be a dill pickle, really.  It can be a pickled tomato.  Or some other sort of pickled vegetation.  It's just that it's a Southern macaroni truck.  I think a pickled accoutrement would not be too much to ask.  But it's really just a humble suggestion.

A lack of acidic side dish will not keep me from the truck though.  I'm eagerly watching the Twitterverse for the next time they stop off in my 'hood.  The Foodie wants some pasta, please.

Hungrily Yours,

-AF

C-c-c-culture, C-c-c-usisine and C-c-c-cold! Last Weekend's Adventures in Food and Art

Brrr, lovies!  It's awfully chilly out there!

I'm posting about what I did on Sunday the 20th.  Why wait so long?  Well, my fingers have only just thawed out...

I met up with my auntie and the sis downtown to check out the Art Institute's new Gods and Glamor exhibit, but first we needed some snackies...lunch actually.  We were pretty much starving.

We ran across the same problem we always have when we meet up along Michigan Ave.  My sister's a bit of a picky eater (not that there's anything wrong with that, love ya, L!) so we didn't really have the option to try out places like the Gage or Purple Pig (which I am a little bit obsessed with...gotta go there and try it...).  We eventually settled on trying out the Park Grill at Millennium Park.

Since it was a Sunday morning, the Park Grill was serving up brunch.  I settled into our booth table and ordered a cup of coffee, a beverage I would recommend if you're not part of the Bloody Mary- and Mimosa-drinking set.  After grasping the mug for about ten minutes, I'd finally regained some of the feeling in my hands.

We all went savory-brunchy with our entrees.  My aunt got Short Rib Benedict, which I unfortunately did not taste.  My sister got chicken and waffles, which I did try, and I got (get ready for it...) chilaquiles!

Elegant Chicken and Waffles at the Park Grill

Let's start with the chicken and waffles.  I am in love with the concept.  Crispy, crunchy, fluffy, salty, sweet...just about the perfect meal, no?  This was the first time I'd ever had C & W, and I'm sorry to say I found this plate a wee bit wanting.

Individually, the items were tasty.  The chicken was juicy and delicious, enveloped in a golden breadcrumb crust.  The waffle was fluffy and just slightly sweet, but it lacked the crisp coating I was hoping for.  They'd drizzled the whole shebang simply with honey.  To create a harmonious and really out-of-this-world dish, I would prefer chicken that is seasoned far more aggressively, maybe even with a kick, and I'd like my waffles to be crisp on the outside and soft on the inside, with a little more sweetness to counterbalance the chicken.

Overall, I liked the concept, I just wanted more from the execution.

Warm, Comforting Chilaquiles at the Park Grill

My chilaquiles were quite the different story.  While not traditional, they packed a whole lot of flavorful punch into one messy-looking bowl.  I've had chilaquiles verdes from Nuevo Leon and enjoyed them immensely.  The chilaquiles from Park Grill aren't trying to replicate the authenticity of Nuevo Leon...and they shouldn't.

PG's chilaquiles featured a red sauce that gave off notes of complex, smoky chiles.  The salsa-braised nacho chips, an integral part of any good plate of chilaquiles, were not uniformly soggy, but I'll be honest, I didn't really mind.  The dish also featured chunks of fall-apart tender carnitas-style pork, along with two over-easy eggs with perfectly runny yolks, guacamole, sour cream, and little cubes of a salty white cheese.

The subtle heat from the sauce built over time, but the runny yolk, guac, and sour cream balanced the meal nicely.

I only regret that I couldn't take my leftovers with me; at the AIC, there's no food allowed...

As for the exhibit, it was fascinating.  I always enjoy Roman, Greek and Byzantine art.  But the showstopper for me was an exhibit on modern fashion from Japanese designers.  Be sure to check it out if you get a chance.

~AF

A New Philosophy on Food, for the New Year

Hello, my darlings.  The Foodie's been on break for far too long now.  I've been contemplating switching to a new blog...still including lots of food, of course!  (I could never deprive you of that...how cruel would that be?)

Now, for your reading enjoyment, a slightly more philosophical piece.  Bon lecture.

I am a disciple of this thing called "good food."

What a subjective thing, right?  Everyone has different tastes...for some people, TGIFriday's is about as gourmet as it gets, and for others nothing short of Alinea is worth consuming.  I like to think I fall into the group in between.

I still eat stuff from places like Friday's, and I've been known to patronize the Olive Garden.  But I also adore trying food created by "celebrity chefs" like Rick Bayless.  I'm dying to go to Grahamwich, and if Girl and the Goat is someday within my price range, I'm going there too.

I follow mainly chefs and restaurants on Twitter, and I get giddy when handles like Lettuce Entertain You and Antico Posto follow me back.

I recently watched an ah-mazing documentary on Netflix called "Jiro Dreams of Sushi" (at the recommendation of Iron Chef Alex Guarnaschelli...she tweeted about it).  It tells the story of a legendary Japanese sushi chef, but it also delves into what makes good food, well, good.

Jiro talks of people training their tastes to appreciate delicious food.  He and his sons also tout the importance of quality ingredients and tasting food as you go along to make sure it is up to snuff.

The film made me rethink food and why I like it.  There are certainly dishes that I eat that I'm not wild about.  I can't really afford to be too picky as a college student (it's not like I can eat at Antico every day...I wish...)  I don't think I could ever be like food critic Anton Ego from Disney's "Ratatouille" ("I don't 'like' food. I love it. If I don't love it, I don't swallow").  But I'm considering being a bit more selective about what I eat, and I want to be more aware of my eating.  If I don't love the food I'm eating, I'm going to eat less of it.  Because I want to train myself to appreciate delicious food.

Who ever thought I'd be taking advice on my food philosophy from an elderly sushi chef and an animated food critic?

I guess, like good food, good advice can come from anywhere.  It's just about how you utilize it.

-AF