British-born, New York-based freelance journalist Mark Ellwood has spent most of his life traveling the globe in pursuit of the finest fashion, furnishings and food. In this brand new series for Slashfood, he highlights the distinctive regional cuisines of his adopted country.
Photo: image415, flickr
Rhode Island is like a gourmet Galapagos, a tiny patch of water-hemmed land that's evolved a separate culture from its surroundings. There are state-specific brands like Del's Lemonade and Autocrat Coffee Syrup, Rhody recipes for jonnycakes and stuffies and even localized tweaks on American staples; only in Rhode Island could clear clam chowder come with an add-to-taste jug of heavy cream to placate visiting Bostonians.
Given locals' culinary passion, it's no wonder this is where the diner was invented by Walter Scott in 1872, who piled up a horse-drawn wagon with pies and sandwiches and stationed it in front of the Providence Journal offices.
How did the smallest state in the union -- barely 1,000 square miles of land -- develop such aggressive, idiosyncratic tastes? In part, thanks to its origins.
"We have this very independent spirit; it's historic, going right back to Williams," explains Linda Beaulieu, author of "The Providence and Rhode Island Cookbook." Indeed, Roger Williams founded the outpost as a rebellion against the Massachusetts Bay Colony's hardline conformism, and that rebellious independence has ricocheted down through Rhode Island's history -- and menus. "Chain restaurants don't do well here at all. In fact a year or two ago, the Red Lobster closed -- people just didn't support it."
Stuffies and quahogs, anyone? Explore more of Rhode Island's culinary offerings after the jump.
The taco may be the perfect food. Portable and unassuming, not to mention affordable, it proffers fuss-free enjoyment for most everyone. This Slashfoodie's recent move to Austin, Texas, after residing in the taco mecca of Sunset Park, Brooklyn for three years has led him to sample Lone Star State tacos whenever possible. Naturally, a mano a mano Austin versus Sunset Park contest was inevitable.
Austin's taco scene skews toward what some might call "gringo fancy," characterized by the prominence of flour tortillas and nontraditional ingredients like bison and basil -- and fish, which is found infrequently in Sunset Park.
Brooklyn tacos, on the other hand, pay homage to one of the neighborhood's main demographics, Mexican immigrants, with tacos wrapped in two corn tortillas. They typically contain nothing more than a meat filling -- goat, lengua (tongue) and cabeza (brains) are among commonly selected options -- minced raw onion, cilantro, a spritz of lime and an optional flurry of queso fresco (white cheese).
In Greenport, N.Y., about 100 miles outside of New York on Long Island, Mike Osinski farms oysters on the upper reaches of the Peconic Bay. His bivalves, called Widow's Holes after the pond outside of his house, end up on the menus at some of the city's best restaurants. One of these, the Mermaid Inn, organized a trip to Widow's Hole earlier this week to shed some light on "Everything Oysters": how they're farmed, harvested, shucked and, most importantly, eaten.
Osinski, a former computer programmer who started his Widow's Hole Oyster Company in August 2004, proved an amiable and knowledgeable guide, regaling his students with oyster history while his three Labrador retrievers lolled about near empty oyster cages and the Shelter Island ferry cut a lazy swath through the Greenport Bay waters once home to no less than 30 oyster companies.
Pressed onto a baguette, crumbled over salads, or eaten straight, we can't get enough of goat cheese in springtime.
This year, voluptuaries and gastronomes seeking a decadently rich and creamy goat's milk cheese will go wild for Rainbeau Ridge Farm's Mont Vivant. Unlike other mold-ripened goat's milk cheeses (like Selles sur Cher or Valençay), this offering from Bedford Hills, NY has an exquisite bloomy rind (unusual in goat's milk cheeses) that seems to impart a more complex and cakey texture, as if it were a cross between Valençay and Brie.
Locavores and others yearning for an American alternative to French springtime goat's milk cheeses like Montrachet and Saint Maure de Touraine will most definitely delight in the ash-coated log from Pipe Dreams Farm in Greencastle, Penn.
This dense, 12-ounce "ashed log" of goat's milk cheese tastes mildly grassy, nutty and slightly peppery towards its edible ash rind. When the cheese is sliced, its paste exudes a seductive floral aroma with hints of citrus fruit. In a word, it's exquisite. But goat cheese is goat cheese, no?
New Year doesn't just mark a clean page on a new calendar -- it evokes nostalgia for the times that led to that point. For many, New Year's Eve is a clash of impressions of confetti, champagne corks, standing in the freezing cold (18 degrees in Times Square this year) in hopes of jockeying for a couple of seconds of nationwide camera time. But for some, the best New Year's Eve is not on the streets but in a swank nightclub several stories above, where matrons in furs peer disdainfully at doxies in sequins, where a gentleman's black tie is correctly understood to be quite enough sartorial splendor for his role as escort, where the jewelry is platinum and the hair is marcelled, and where, although champagne is popped at midnight for an obligatory sip, the drink of the evening is the martini.
Into the world of chic, artisinal gins, enter New Amsterdam. Like the pre-code New York of its name, this gin bypasses the cheap sentiment of retro to be outright old-fashioned, without the speakeasy sting of bathtub gin. Soft citrus notes open the palate much as happens with a good sauvignon blanc, but then a strident bite of juniper marches forward, lockstepping like a Busby Berkeley kickline. As a pure sip, the juniper mid-note lingers on the palate; with vermouth or lime, a final spicy note surfaces, very lightly crowned with waft of minerality.
How seriously do you take your tequila? What champagne is for France, tequila is for Mexico. Mexicans drink it to celebrate national holidays, weddings, and anniversaries. It even has a government protection similar to the French AOC. The Consejo Regulador del Tequilo states that the drink must come from a region in central south Mexico: the state of Jalisco. Drinking tequila straight from a small glass is the most traditional way to drink it.
So, what does it mean that companies, such as Tanteo, are now producing flavored tequilas? In a recent New York Times article, Florence Fabricant explains that flavors, like jalapeño and passion fruit, are subtle and delicate in Tanteo's line of flavored tequilas. As much as I want to be a traditionalist, I have to admit that I'm intrigued and looking forward to trying these tequilas. Tanteo tequilas are now available in NY at three locations: Ambassador Wines and Spirits on Second Avenue, SoHo Wines and Spirits on West Broadway, and at Philippe Wine and Liquor in Chelsea.
Scanned from Cooking and Traveling the Cape Cod Way (1953)
Forefather's Day isn't celebrated until tomorrow, but I'm posting this in anticipation of the East Coast's wintry mix blowing up the collective skirt of many folks' salt pork acquisition schedules. I'm a huge sucker for dishes made expressly in observance of regionally significant holidays and events -- especially so when the tenor of the recipe matches the spirit of the occasion. In New Orleans at Mardi Gras, it's all wild-hued, cream-slathered King Cake. On a chilly Christmas Eve in North Carolina, there is sweet, hot Moravian Love Feast coffee, and light potatoey buns, made to be split and shared.
It seems appropriate that a feast in commemoration of the Pilgrims' arrival in a bitter and bleak new terrain would involve some rather hardscrabble fare -- sustenance and utility, rather than sybaritic excess. Then again, I could be projecting 'cause I've never met a succotash I've really liked. Should I be able to get my frozen paws on some pea beans within the next 24 hours, I'll give this one a go.
If you should decide to do the same, please let us all know how it goes in the comments below. All I ask is that you remember to pay for the corn.
Whether bleeding heart or staunchly red, most people agree there's nothing wrong with going green. Sure, we might be able to argue the science behind global warming, but eco-minded products aren't going to harm anybody (unless you've stumbled upon some crazy conspiracy theory I haven't heard about.) So if some brewers want to join the fray of environmentally friendly foodstuffs, I say relax, grab an organic beer and try what the other 364 days of the year call a green beer.
What actually makes a beer "green" is a subject of some debate. Planet Green states, "There are a few ways a beer can be considered green: It can be brewed via environmentally friendly processes, or made with green ingredients like pesticide and chemical-free organic barley and hops." Also important to consider are packaging and shipping. (Planet Green suggest choosing glass and local micro-breweries, respectively.)
Since minimizing fossil fuel usage goes into the eco-equation, drinking regional brews becomes all that more important if you want to be as green as possible. Therefore, Planet Green is suggesting green beers (such as Orlio, pictured here) by region starting with the East Coast. I'm sure other areas are to follow (though they don't say when).
As an unrecommened alternative, if you're seeking a less eco-friendly way of "getting as green as possible," try drinking about 20 of any beer in one sitting (toilet bowl not included).
Get ready for fall's massive, massively expensive cookbooks - The Fat Duck Cookbook ($250!), A Day at el Bulli (500 pages), Thomas Keller's Under Pressure ($75 and 300 pages) and others.
The unlikely pairing of manga and wine takes Tokyo by storm.
Restaurants are hardest hit in the parts of the country most affected by the economic crises. Really?
The Minimalist does kasha varnishkes, buckwheat pasta with onions and chicken fat. Seriously, it's better than it sounds.
A recipe for collards with cranberry beans and andouille sausage.
Eric Asimov discusses the sinister-sounding "suitcase clones" - grape clippings stolen from venerable vineyards and replanted elsewhere.
The Beer Barrel Belly Bruiser is so big that it looks like it might eat Brad Sciullo. Nonetheless the 21-year-old chef from Uniontown, Pa., took down the 15-pound burger along with 5 pounds of toppings in four hours and 39 minutes. For his efforts the 5-foot-11, 180-pound received $400, three T-shirts, a certificate and what the owner of Denny's Beer Barrel Pub calls "a burger hangover."
Sciullo is the first person to ever successfully eat this outlandishly huge burger within the 5-hour time limit. The colossal cheeseburger was dressed with lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, onions, mild banana peppers and a cup each of mayonnaise, ketchup, mustard and relish. Four hours and 39 minutes is a glacial pace compared with the people on the International Federation of Competitive Eaters circuit. The IFOCE is all about speed.
I'm guessing that Sciullo might spend a good 4 hours in the bathroom after eating that much ground beef. At least the chef doesn't have to face any burgers when he returns to work. He works at an Italian restaurant called Pasta Lorenzo's in Uniontown.
The current version of the Choking Victim poster hanging in almost every New York City eatery and bar warrants scarcely a moment's thought. It's clearly laid out and quite instructive. At a glance one knows how to save the Choking Victim via the Heimlich maneuver, but it lacks any sense of whimsy or artistic flair. It's not all like the one above, which hangs on the wall of Porchetta in New York City's East Village. Even though Porchetta's an Italian pork specialist the Choking Victim poster here has a Caribbean flair. More on that later. This blueprint/comic conveys what is essentialy a grim message in a visually pleasing manner. The panels of the gent expelling his food are quite effective. You'll never swallow a whole fish or hamburger without chewing again.
The poster's the work of Alex Holden. He designed it for a Cuban-themed bar that couldn't deal with the city's version. He happened to have an extra copy laying around, so he gave it to the folks at the recently opened Porchetta. Holden has succeeded in crafting a Choking Victim poster that evokes a chuckle from even the most jaded of diners.
Even though the crust of your pumpkin pie on Thanksgiving turned out flaky and buttery, consider everyone "pie"-ed out. Try these non-pie ways to use up leftover disk of dough.