Coffee Confection Confession
Okay. I’ll admit it. Sometimes, I feel like something other than brewed black coffee or a well made cortado. For the most part, I like my coffee to be coffee flavored. I don’t even like to get a lot of milk in my espresso drinks, which is why I typically lean towards the cortado. It’s about halfway between a macchiato and a cappuccino.
But this past Sunday I was having a rough day, so I pulled into the nearest Starbucks and ordered the unthinkable: a coconut milk mocha. And you know what, it totally hit the spot.
It didn’t hold a candle to Superior Merchandise Company’s winter flavored latte. That walnut rosemary drink was indeed something special. Now they are doing some kind of rosewater matcha latte? That also sounds pretty damn good.
What I’m trying to do here is create a bit of judgment free zone. There are lots of people who drink flavored coffee all the time. I’m guessing a few of you may even drink flavored coffee at Dunkin’ Donuts. Well, today, I’m looking for a few volunteers.
The Case for Two Wings
Years ago, a standard order of wings shrunk from a dozen to ten. Sure, there are still some places you can go that refuse to cut corners, regardless of increasing ingredient prices. 20 North in Schenectady was notable on our recent Tour de Wing for delivering a full dozen wing segments in our basket.
Plenty of people are pissed about puny portions. But not me.
Actually, in my ideal world, you could order wings by the piece. Because most of the time, I really just want two pieces (or one wing). That would be one drumette and one flat. And there are a lot of good reasons for this.
For starters, wings are terrible for you. Chicken skin and fat are deep fat fried, slathered in a butter sauce, and served with a sour-cream-based blue cheese dipping sauce. Wings also wilt. Those crispy fried edges don’t stay crispy for long. Sure you could quickly power through a basket of wings before they get cold and soggy, but I prefer to savor my food. Really, after a few bites their magnificence begins to fade.
But today’s post isn’t about wings. They are just serving as a vehicle to demonstrate a larger point.
Miles To Go Before I Sleep
Friday! At last. What a crazy week this has been.
I’m not sure who is going to be more relieved when Passover is finished at sundown tomorrow. It’s been a struggle for me to stay away from my favorite foods. But it can’t have been easy for anyone reading this blog to deal with all the complaining. Anyhow, on Sunday I think I’ll have spaghetti and meatballs (from the Gramma Jeanie’s special Venda Ravioli stash).
Sunday is already May 1? Egads! That’s the blogiversary. April totally got away from me. So much for the hot egg custard and bubble tea party plan. Don’t worry. The plan isn’t being entirely scrapped. We’ll just have to push it further out. Just like we’ve been pushing back the Tour de Soft Serve. I’m still not sure what to do about that since one of the beloved Schenectady businesses has burned down (and is rebuilding).
It’s also supposed to be raining on Sunday, so an afternoon of day drinking at the Madison Pour House seems like a bad idea. Should I get inspired to do something to celebrate the occasion, I’ll post it on Twitter and Facebook. But I wouldn’t hold your breath. A rainy Sunday sounds like a brilliant time to enjoy a nap. Although it is also the opening day of Indian Ladder Farmstead Brewery.
On the eve of this blog milestone, there is one thing that’s clearly evident.
Our Expanding Food Culture
For better or for worse the Capital Region has changed a lot since I started writing the FLB. On Sunday, the blog turns seven, so I’m feeling a little bit reflective. However, today isn’t going to be about the past, but rather about the future.
My greatest desire has been the emergence of a richer food culture in the area. And part of what needs to happen for that to be a reality is that more people need to start getting involved. So whenever I have the chance to help plug new voices in this space, I’m going to do it.
This is different than the Sell Out Funday posts. Those are solicited from the business community and typically involve a press release. Today I’ve got a blog I just discovered, an emerging food book group, a pitch for culinary tourism in our own backyard, and farm fresh food in Guilderland.
The Canary on the Cupcake
Oreos. What’s not to love? I hear they are milk’s favorite cookie. And who could possibly ever argue with milk? I mean, when was the last time milk steered you wrong? Don’t answer that last one. I really don’t want to know.
But everyone has their favorite junk foods. I like those gross buffalo chicken flavored pretzels. Life is short. Our joys are fleeting. And I’m not going to begrudge you your guilty pleasure of sucking down a pack of Oreos washed down with icy cold milk. Or maybe you crush them up and use those shards of cookie and sweetened palm oil as an ice cream topping. It matters little to me. Eat up.
What I’m concerned about today is what happens in professional kitchens and bakeries. Because there seems to be less of a focus these days on from-scratch production. And sometimes the evidence is presenting as the crowning glory of the dish.
Case in point: The Oreo Cupcake.
Matzoh Brei Mope
As incredible as it sounds, if you are overweight and want to slim down, The Whopper Diet totally works. That’s the weight loss plan that involves eating nothing but Whopper sandwiches.
How can something so full of fat, calories, carbs, and sodium lead to weight loss? Easy. The diet calls for you to eat only that one thing. But you can eat as much as you want. And really, it can be anything. Big Macs, pepperoni pizza, duck confit and foie gras stuffed chicken thighs, whatever.
The idea is that if you only eat that one thing and only that thing, you’ll soon get so sick of it, all you’ll consume is the bare minimum needed to survive.
I mention this because Passover presents a similar situation. There is nothing inherently bad about matzoh, it’s just that when you are compelled to eat it for eight days, it’s hard to get excited about the stuff. And just like the first matzoh of the season is delicious, so is the first matzoh brei.
But that doesn’t mean I’m going to take any pleasure in telling you about this traditional food.
Spring Fails
Social media is going to be my downfall. This past weekend, I started playing around with my phone. Bad idea. And somehow I stumbled upon a new app.
Actually, I remember how it happened. Somehow I got a message that someone had sent me a message on the app. Anyhow, while I couldn’t ever really find the message, I did discover Wishbone. The free app posed a series of innocuous but fun “this vs. that” questions. And after killing a few minutes choosing who wore the dress best, deciding between my favorite Kardashian, and admitting that I’m faster at typing than texting, I thought I’d try my hand at creating my own wishbone.
So I dug through my photo archive and came up with “Burger Shack or Chaat Counter?”
However, creating wishbones is just the first part. Inviting friends to answer them is the second part. I think it’s kind of like Snapchat in that way, although I’m still not sure how to use that app either. Man I’m old.
Well, I invited a few dozen people to try and answer my question. Several people responded immediately concerned that my phone had somehow been hacked. To all of you who may have received a note from me, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.
Unfortunately, this was not the only fail to launch the spring season.
The Story of This Pasover
Nobody has time for a flat tire. I don’t even know what happened. The car was pulling a bit to the right, so I pulled over to the side of I-90 and found the front right tire to be almost completely shredded.
I’m not the most handy fellow. I learned how to change a headlight bulb my senior year in college from one of my girlfriends. Until last night, I had never even used a jack. In theory, I suppose, I could have looked it up on YouTube from my phone. But I was happy to sit with my laptop and wait for roadside assistance to come and change my tire.
The State Trooper thought it was probably time for me to learn a valuable life skill.
Today, I’m really hoping that I can get an emergency appointment with my mechanic to get new tires on, because we’re scheduled to drive off to Providence tomorrow morning for a second seder. And all of the stuff we want to bring won’t actually fit in Mrs. Fussy’s car.
But even if I can get an appointment, I’m still screwed.
Better Than Ordinary Matzoh
You probably like matzoh. I say that because you’re probably not Jewish. And even if you are Jewish, you probably don’t observe the passover prohibitions.
I’m just playing the odds here. I know I’ve got a few rabbis who read this, and they’ll be the rare exceptions. Rabbis have a way of always making things more complicated. But I love them. Even the obnoxious ones. Well, maybe not the obnoxious ones. However, most rabbis are great. I love my rabbi. He even did a Food Friday on WAMC in advance of the Jewish Food Festival.
But back to matzoh.
The first bite of matzoh every year is delicious. But not all matzoh is created equal. We discovered Yehuda Matzoh when living in Berkeley and reading the weekly food section of the San Francisco Chronicle. Man, that paper used to have a great food section. Anyway, in one of the paper’s tasting panels, Yehuda blew away the competition. And it’s no wonder. This stuff is crisp, light, and deeply toasty.
So where does matzoh get its bad rap?
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