Mr. Coffee
Call me a collector. I like to collect coffee brewing devices. The trouble is that if I drank all the coffee I wanted to, my heart would explode.
Really, I’d love to have the time to get really good at all of the brewing methods I have at my disposal. The two that have been the most problematic have been the Turkish ibrik and the Italian Bialetti.
Most of the coffee I drink though comes from the Cuisinart auto drip machine that Mrs. Fussy and I got about a decade ago. The only problem is that yesterday it died. Given that we’re packing for New Jersey and in the process of getting rid of things, I saw this as a blessing in disguise. You know, just one less thing to haul down to Princeton.
Mrs. Fussy had other plans.
SOS – Slidin’ Through the Rye
I’ve kind of neglected these Sell Out Sunday posts for a while. And my negligence may have cost you a bottle of rye. But I haven’t heard any other voices chiming in about pre-ordering the aged Ironweed Rye from the Albany Distilling Company. It was just released yesterday, and I have no idea if it’s all gone or if you can still get a bottle. Anyway, that information and more follows.
There is a lot of other stuff going on from some great local food institutions. Not least of which is a national television appearance of Slidin’ Dirty. Our beloved local food truck actually cleaned up its act a little bit before taking their turn in the spotlight. AND they’ve published the recipe for how to make their avocado fries. In exchange for sharing it with you, I’m asking for a small favor (if you happen to read this early enough on Sunday).
And there are some new products on the shelves at both The Cheese Traveler and Fin: Your Fishmonger. Fin incidentally is fuelling what looks like an amazing oysterfest at Troy’s wine bar, and surely this time they’ll make sure to have more oysters at the ready.
Okay here we go.
The Dregs of the Bar
Nothing lasts. Everything fades. It’s all just a matter of time. Honestly, I take comfort in the fact that eventually the sun will engulf the Earth and leave nothing more than cinders and ashes floating in the cosmic dust. That might not be exactly how it works, but you get the idea.
On a much smaller scale, I should have learned this lesson a long time ago. If you have something that’s delicious, enjoy it. Drink life to the lees. Don’t save it like some kind of miser, looking for the perfect occasion to savor a precious drop. A while back I had the McKenzie rye change on me, leaving behind its haunting haybarn aromas in exchange for a much less charming vegetal profile.
Just this week I took down the most precious bottle from my bar, the last remaining ounces of Harvest Spirit’s Core Vodka Batch #21. The bottle wasn’t a planned purchase, but when I tasted the batch while at the distillery to buy the first run of Cornelius Applejack, I couldn’t resist. It was delicious with top notes of caramel and butterscotch. Crazy stuff. And it seemed to be some accident of fate that the distillers were never again quite able to recreate.
But I found that over years in my liquor cabinet its intensity had diminished. There weren’t any off flavors, yet still it was a mere shadow of its former self. Luckily, not all of the bottles are old and precious. Still, as we are packing and getting rid of things, we’re trying to drink through the bar, and that led to an exciting discovery.
Kaboom!
Independence is a lie. But that’s a topic that I covered back on July 4, 2011. Last year on Independence day I rallied against the idea of apple pie on the Fourth of July. In 2009 and 2010 I used the holiday as an excuse to take the day off from posting, and just linked to relevant articles from the past.
Maybe you’ve noticed this, but I’ve been slacking off. Most Sundays lately I haven’t been putting new content up. And I have also been running more guest posts lately. So today I’m not feeling nearly as burnt out. Although I am a bit distracted from food matters as I focus on packing for New Jersey.
As a side note, I just have to tell you how much I love my climate controlled storage unit. Stacking all of the boxes in the space is like my own personal life-size game of Tetris. It’s awesome.
Like I promised the other day, I’m still not going to weigh in on your holiday celebrations. Instead I’m going to talk about fireworks. Not the fireworks my kids insist they want to see (even though I suspect the cacophony will haunt their dreams). But these are the fireworks that you eat.
Teeth Grinding
This year I’m not going to weigh in on your Independence Day festivities. Maybe you are going to have a cookout. Likely you’ll call it a barbecue. I’m going to try and let it all go.
There are plenty of classic American drinks to enjoy on the holiday. I’d probably suggest getting a bottle of Cornelius Applejack for cocktails. But there are countless great American beers and wines to choose from. Some are even still owned by American companies.
Seriously, if I see one more tip on how to dress up a burger I think I’ll scream. The subtext is either that we as Americans are only satisfied when we guild the lily, or perhaps that our commercially produced meat is so flavorless it can only be enjoyed when overwhelmed by condiments. Either way, it’s insulting.
Whatever it is you’ll be eating tomorrow, you’ll most likely be eating it with your teeth. And these are remarkable tools that most cooks overlook when considering their dishes. Perhaps because far too many people simply shove food down their gullets and fail to chew. Or maybe I’m just crazy.
Opportunistic Veggies
Did I tell you that not that long ago, Mrs. Fussy and I celebrated 12 years of marriage? Well, not exactly celebrated. But we recalled the day that we were married as we sat in the dark and enjoyed some kind of modified bellini.
I say modified because it was cava and not prosecco. Plus the white peach puree was slightly sweetened and came frozen from Adventure in Food trading. Still, it’s awesome stuff. But I think the purists would not be pleased.
In the last couple of weeks, completely independent of the anniversary, I’ve been reminded time and again that I married the right woman.
Eat Like a Local: Saratoga in Track Season
[Note from the Profussor: Last night I was at the sneak preview for Park Side Eatery in Saratoga. They are doing some great things–I’m particularly excited about their corned beef–but I need to transcribe my interview with the chef first, and that takes time. So for now, I’m pleased to present to you this guest post from Burnt My Fingers.]
By Burnt My Fingers
Saratoga may have finally escaped its boom-bust cycle for good. Two large new hotels are going up and a 13 screen downtown cinema will open this year, directly across Church Street from Jason Baker’s highly anticipated new restaurant.
The expansion reflects Saratoga’s success in making itself a year round tourist destination as well as the influx of well educated immigrants, who may work in Malta or Albany or Clifton Park but prefer to live in Saratoga. (Hopefully this means we’ll eventually have the base clientele to support real ethnic restaurants like Ala Shanghai in Latham, though we’re not there yet.)
Unfortunately, good times means that dining out in downtown Saratoga during tourist season will be an even bigger disaster—unless you enjoy long waits for casually prepared, overpriced meals served by an inexperienced wait staff. What do the locals do? (Other than renting their houses to the tourists and going to the Adirondacks or the shore, of course.) Here are a few tips.
Breaking Bars
You are going out with friends for drinks. Say you are in some strange town you don’t know. Maybe you’re even in a hotel bar. But it’s hot, and you are thirsty, and the bar has a crap selection of wine and beer. Plus everyone else is getting cocktails.
It’s just a regular everyday kind of bar. The bartender is quick and efficient, but not terribly chatty. There are other people waiting to order. What are you going to drink? Water isn’t an option.
This is a real question. I want to know. Maybe you should write it down on a piece of paper before you click through. Because bars have been broken. And I argue there are precious few things you can order with any likelihood of receiving a delicious and refreshing cocktail.
AskTP – When Chickens Attack
This is dangerous territory. I’m on the verge of chicken oversaturation. This happened to me with donuts back in college and I couldn’t even look at one for years. It’s the predictable outcome of overdosing on one of your favorite foods.
The chicken thing started innocently enough with the usual rotisserie bird picked up from Hannaford on Friday. But that chicken didn’t get eaten and was held for another day. Then on Saturday, we had a chicken feast down in Great Neck from Poultry Mart. The family sent us home with leftovers. With a refrigerator full of chicken already, on Sunday I went to Mr. Pio Pio to pick up yet another whole chicken for my All Over Albany feature.
I’ve got chickens up to my ears.
But we’re not here to talk about my problems. Today is the day I answer the two week stockpile of reader questions. I committed a long time ago to answer all questions that were asked in the comments section of the blog, just so long as they use proper punctuation. They aren’t always answered well but they are always answered. And now each question is preceded by the mystery link of the day.
Nobody has fun like the profussor. Now, onto the question.
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