Take This With a Dash of Salt
It’s hard to complain about a $20 three-course meal at a nice restaurant. Not to say it can’t be done. I’ve been to a handful of restaurant week dinners in the region and haven’t been terribly impressed with any of them.
My intentions for the FLB have been to keep it separate from restaurant reviews. Those are mostly reserved for Yelp. In a few days I hope to post a review there on the food I ate at MezzaNotte last night. Instead today, I’m going to focus on one larger issue about restaurants that was inspired by my meal.
Overall, I was pleased with the experience. It was a decent value at half the restaurant’s normal prices. But in many ways the food was lacking. Still, I was impressed with the entrée. The chef had the guts to go without a vegetable on the plate, and the confidence to be simple with clean bright flavors. In this town, that’s really notable.
However, the fish along with most everything else I was served, was under seasoned. Fortunately, there was a shaker of salt on the table. But this turns out to be a double-edged sword. Does a shaker of salt belong on the table at a restaurant of this stature? You know, one with white linens where the plurality of entrées cost $24.
From Both Sides Now
My mom is going to love the soundtrack to today’s post.
Screw local food. You know what I just ate? A tangerine. In upstate New York. At the end of January.
And I loved it.
You know what else I love? Coffee. That doesn’t grow here. Neither does chocolate. Nor the olives for my olive oil. For the past month we’ve eaten more rice than I ever thought imaginable, and I don’t know if it’s even possible to cultivate the grain in New York. If Little Miss Fussy had to give up her mango lassi habit, I fear she wouldn’t have the will to get out of bed for a month.
Sure, if one were enterprising, I imagine there is a way of producing a local salt. But pepper is out of the question. We have great local cheeses, but none of them is Parmigiano-Reggiano. If necessary, I could be content with local wine, beer and spirits. However I’m not giving up on the amazing variety of foodstuffs that, while they may come from far away, help to create a global village.
Now that you know I’m no ideologue, I have to tell you something about local food.
Souper Sunday
The year is already off to a rip-roaring start. We’ve already begun the early preparations for the Times Union’s Best of the Capital Region, Saturday marks the first Fussy Little Tour of the year, and on Sunday I’m judging a soup making competition.
Yes, it’s Souper Sunday.
Sorry. The Schenectady Greenmarket has too much class to enlist such a cheap pun to promote their event this upcoming weekend. Instead, they are calling it their 3rd annual Market Cook-off. Last year’s theme was Spuds Are Not Duds. This year the theme is Soup!
I wouldn’t be doing this had it not been for Wendalicious who recommended me for the job. Thank you. Judging is one of the things I enjoy most. Seriously. But I’m also excited about this particular showdown for a few other reasons.
Snack Attack
Kids cause problems. When they are small, they can be pretty malleable to a certain extent. You want to feed them beans and guacamole for snack time, they are okay with that. At home, my terribly deprived children gobble up kale chips like they are candy.
But eventually most kids go to school, and there they are exposed to a whole wide world of possibilities. Many of these include some truly awful foods.
I was amazed that Young Master Fussy came back from school singing a song whose only lyrics were fast food restaurant names and being told to buy Sunny-D by his teacher so that the library could earn free books. But those were a lot easier to combat than the newfound desire for the brightly colored foods he saw his classmates enjoying in the cafeteria and at snack time.
So what’s a dad to do? Well, believe it or not, I compromised. A little. There are two snack foods that have made it into a regular rotation. And while they aren’t great, neither makes me feel too uneasy. One happens to be truly surprising.
Fixing the Ballot
Does the Albany Times Union matter? It’s a fair question.
What does it matter what Cheryl Clark says about a restaurant, or Ruth Fantasia, or Steve Barnes? They are just individuals. Thanks to the wonders of the Internet, one can call upon Yelp, Urban Spoon, Trip Advisor, Open Table, or simply Google a restaurant to read countless reviews and see how it stacks up.
These online reviews capture multiple dining experiences over many nights from many different perspectives. The information that can be gleaned from these sources is invaluable. Sure, sometimes there may be conflicting reports, but when you find a place that is almost unanimously loved, you know it’s a winner.
Like when you search for the highest rated sandwich under the Delis category Cardona’s Market pops up to the top of the list with 4.5 stars on 36 reviews. That’s phenomenal, and even if your heart belongs to another Italian deli, surely you can agree that Cardona’s is indeed one of the best sandwich makers in the Capital District.
But the newspaper does indeed matter. It matters a lot. Especially when it conducts a broad poll of our populace and makes pronouncements about what things are The Best of The Capital Region. You know, like Subway.
Every year this survey kills me. Instead of instilling a sense of pride, the results widely elicit a feeling of shame. This year I’m being proactive, and I’d like your help.
Kimchi: It’s What’s for Breakfast
Wake up and smell the fermenting cabbage. If that doesn’t shake you from your slumber, go ahead and make a cup of coffee.
But in all seriousness, kimchi fried rice would make a splendid morning meal. You know, if your spouse wasn’t dead set against the stuff. However, despite her protestations, I have a nice little corner of the refrigerator where a giant half-gallon tub of the stuff now resides. And on the lid of that tub sits my new favorite Korean condiment, gochujang.
I don’t know why people get obsessed with kimchi fried rice, but I do know that I have joined their ranks. Maybe it’s the colors, the deep yellow yolk that runs over the red-pepper-burnished rice. Or perhaps it’s the contrast of textures, from the crunchy bits of well-seared rice, to the slippery egg and the snap of the cabbage. It could simply be that the dish is just so damn easy to make, and just so damn delicious.
If you’ve been following my tweets, you may have noticed that I’ve been enjoying this dish a lot over the past few weeks. I’ve been making it for lunch, because that’s the meal I can cook just for myself, without having to consider anyone else’s preferences.
My lifelong friend ADS noticed, and he wanted to know how to make it. I’m happy to oblige.
Drinking Out of Season
I still don’t have a good handle on winter. Recently I bundled up and went for a walk to collect some locally roasted Ethiopian Sidamo beans. It was a cold day, but I was dressed warmly.
Upon stepping into the coffee shop I was suddenly overwhelmed by the heat of it all, and I couldn’t shed my outer layers fast enough. Had someone offered me an iced coffee, I would have gladly used it to help cool down. I might have even started rubbing the ice on my arms.
But that is still the exception and not the rule, because it’s cold here. And really it doesn’t help that Mrs. Fussy and I have a little game we play about who is going to be the first one to crack and turn up the heat. I’ll give you a hint, it’s not going to be me (one of us is hearty and the other one is just plain old stubborn).
Naturally, this makes warming drinks even that more appealing. So what was I doing last night with a fizzy cocktail full of ice?
Tour de Egg Sandwich
Finally it’s here. Well, it’s almost here. Really, it’s planned. But I’m excited about the plan. Naturally, I’m referring to the Winter 2012 FUSSYlittleTOUR, which will from this point on be known as the Tour de Egg Sandwich.
Before going any further, I should acknowledge once again Stanford Steph, who talked me into doing the first tour not too long ago, and Jess, who more recently suggested we sample the region’s egg and cheese sandwiches.
So what are these tours anyway?
Periodically, I lead a group of intrepid eaters around the region to eat and evaluate some of the most beloved foodstuffs of the area. These things both have an inextricable sense of place and would also diminish in transit. So we cannot bring these delicacies to us. We must go to them.
At the end of the day, not only do all the participants have a better understanding of the item in question and the nuances of its component pieces, but they have also decided upon their favorite version. Whereas most people’s favorites stem from childhood memories or geographic proximity, those on the tour form their opinion based on empirical data.
Oh, and it’s a fun excuse to hang out with some fellow food obsessives, meet new people, and eat far too much fast food. If you haven’t been on a tour with me before, you should come. What follows are the details of the inaugural Tour de Egg Sandwich.
