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