Not Diggity

A friendly word to the crew at the 85th Street Deli/Slum City Hot Dogs (Greenwood): Canned chili and old pre-grated cheddar is enough to put one off chili dogs for eternity.

Here's a really good, easy Texas chili recipe that will keep me coming back; feel free to use ground beef instead of cubed chuck roast.

Real Texas Chili
(modified from America's Test Kitchen)

3 lbs chuck roast, cut in 1/2 inch cubes
3 strips of bacon (or bacon fat)
3 cloves garlic, minced
3 TBS chili powder (or toast 3-4 chili pods and grind in food processor, make paste with a little water before adding)
1 tsp salt
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp oregano
5-6 cups water
1/4 cup Masa Harina (make paste with some water)

In enameled pot or dutch oven, brown meat in bacon fat; remove. Saute garlic, then add herbs followed by chili powder paste. Add back meat, then add water. Cover and simmer in 250 degree oven for at least 2 hours. Optional: 28 oz can of crushed tomatoes; 14-1/2 oz can of kidney beans. Thicken: Add Masa Harina paste gradually by spoonful; simmer for 30 more minutes.

I do give you 4 thumbs up, though, for roasting the 'dogs when they are ordered, instead of letting them sit in hot water for hours.


Update:  85th Street Deli has since shuttered.

5 Things That Should Be in Your Kitchen

#3: Bacon

Don't give me that "Noooo, it's greasy" crap: you love bacon.

If it will help, you can call it American Pancetta, because that's really all it is.

The great thing about bacon is its versatility. Not only can it be cooked to so many different outcomes (soft, medium, crisp, ultra-crisp), and used in so many different dishes (omelets, BLTs, burgers, salads, soups, appetizers -- the list is almost endless), even the leftover liquid fat has uses.

I usually cook up a half-dozen rashers every other week just to have them handy, and refrigerate them wrapped in Saran. The fat from the skillet should be poured into a metal container with a plastic lid and also kept in the fridge.

Then consider using a teaspoon or two of bacon fat when you ordinarily might use corn oil, olive oil or butter -- when browning chunks of beef or chicken, for example. Or massage some into a whole chicken, season and roast.

I like the Niman Ranch applewood-smoked natural bacon, which is raised using humane and sustainable methods. Most supermarkets stock it now, often on sale for under $6.

5 Things That Should Be in Your Kitchen

#2: Noilly Prat Vermouth

If you like to make Asian food, especially stir-fries, "sherry wine" is an ubiquitous ingredient in many cookbooks. The problem is that most people likely don't have sherry, and since it seems like a lot of trouble for something you drizzle around the sides of the wok when the dish is almost done, I think most of us just leave it out. I know I used to.

But once you do use sherry, the difference sans sherry is glaring, and you can't go back.

Don't buy expensive sherry. Since you're cooking with it, the alcohol boils off and the remaining essence mixes with the food. Thus 'quality' sherry is not required.

Instead, $7 will get you a bottle of Noilly Prat that could last you a decade. Vermouth is just sherry with more sugar, and gives dishes the same flavor.

Try Noilly Prat in Chinese meatloaf, or in a regular stir-fry. Only a half-capful needs to be added, as noted just drizzle it around the sides of the wok at the end, just before you combine all the ingredients. You won't be sorry.

5 Things That Should Be in Your Kitchen

#1: Toasted Flour


You know those times when you're trying to make a soup, gravy or sauce, and it turns out too thin? It's too late for the corn starch, a trick that works best before you add the water. Sure, you could try to mix some corn starch with a TINY bit of water, but there is a very high probability of a lump of unblended corn starch staring back at you from the pan. No one wants that.

Toasted flour is what you want in such situations, a teaspoon or two blends nicely into just about any hot liquid. Here's how to do it.

Tools:
A wok. I prefer the round-bottom kind.
A metal spatula, business end curved to match the curve of the wok

Ingredients:
White or unbleached flour

Procedure:

• Heat wok to almost-high.
• Put a quarter- to a third-cup of flour in the wok bottom. Sift through a wire strainer to remove lumps.
• After 30-45 seconds start scraping/stirring flour at 10-20 second intervals. Make sure you scrape/stir the flour off the bottom of the wok.
• Adjust heat as flour heats up; do not let it brown too fast or it will burn. Watch the edges of the pile of flour for browning.
  
• After a few minutes the flour will start to darken. Now scrape/stir continually.
• Flour is done when medium-golden. Dump it into a bowl and toast another batch.

After you think you have enough, let the flour cool. Store in an airtight container.

A word about Wondra. It is flour product that dissolves fast even if the liquid is cold; this is achieved by removing most of the protein and adding gelatin and some malted barley flour. This is all well and good, but I never need to thicken anything cold, and toasted flour achieves the same thing with ordinary flour. So if you have flour already, why spend another three bucks on Wondra?

The best use I've found for toasted flour is that it speeds up the creation of mac & cheese. No more trying to brown the flour-butter mixture for umpteen minutes! Just melt the butter, throw in some toasted flour, blend, and proceed with the cheesy goodness as you normally would.

Bye Bye, Black(faced) Sheep

Maintaining the natural environment can mean sacrifice.

Mont Saint Michel -- St. Michael's Mount in anglais -- is one of the coolest places in the world, a medieval abbey that to the eye seems to grow from a rock that juts out of the sand on the coast of France.

In the old days the Mount would be cut off from the mainland at high tide, the water even covering the road. It was a major destination for Christian pilgrims, who would take the road or a risky walk across the sand from the east at low tide. In the modern era a causeway was built, allowing tourist-bearing cars and buses to drive to the base of the Mount.

But the causeway hampers the tidal action, so over the years the Bay of Saint Michel (it's the mouth of the Couesnon River) has silted-in. This has created areas within the tidelands that are now rarely covered by the tide. These areas have become meadows.

Because the Mount is a UNESCO World Heritage site, as well as the #1 tourist attraction in France, a project is being planned to restore the bay and tidelands. The causeway will be replaced with a bridge that will allow water to flow underneath and get the natural flushing action going again.

Unfortunately this means we are going to say goodbye to a particular delicacy: the Bay of Saint Michel sheep.

The silt-meadows grow grass that is naturally salty due to the seawater. Shepherds graze sheep on it, and as a result the resulting lamb tastes naturally salty. This lamb -- agneau de pré salé -- has become a highly prized dining experience, and it's one we got to try recently.


Junk food has given salt a bad name. Fritos are salty. The flavor of Saint Michel lamb is saline.

The dining room of our hotel, the Montgomery (right), is said to be the best in Pontorson, the last town before the Mount. Nothing about our lamb rib chops gave cause to doubt the rep.

For starters, the saline flavor was more like the essence of sea air rather than saltwater -- closer to an herb than a mineral.

Second was the mild, delicate taste. It barely tasted like lamb, just enough to be able to tell what it was. Again, essence.

We ordered it medium, but agneau de pré salé is becoming rare. Because of the causeway replacement project the sheep farmers see the handwriting on the wall, and are getting out of the business. Supplies are shrinking, and prices are going up. One day, Mont Saint Michel's ecosystem will be restored, but the sheep, a happy accident of man's interference, will be elsewhere. Just regular-tasting sheep.

Where's the boeuf?

Charolais (shar-o-lay) -- a big, docile sweetheart of a white French cow -- is a slice (sorry) of heaven.

They are raised all over the world now, but the ones I saw recently were concentrated in Burgundy, and in the Loire bread basket -- hey, that's a pain panier!

The way they do charolais at La Ciboulette (Beaune) is, I am assured by a Francophile, in the traditional French country style

Ordered medium-rare, the unmarbled cut cooked up firm yet not even remotely tough. The texture was not unlike a high quality buffalo steak.

The flavor of charolais is earthy, remarkably like lamb. I would use the term gamey, but a lot of unadventurous eaters (yeah lamb-haters, I mean you) confuse that with liver-y, and I don't want to scare anyone off.

Market day in Beaune (video below)

Best of all is a thin sauce of lemon and cheese (possibly Epoisses, the signature Burgundian cheese) poured over the charolais. These are not overpowering flavors, even though Epoisses is known for a stinky aroma.* I suspect the heat of cooking moderates the lemon and cheesiness. If I were making it, I would use the sequence melted butter - cheese - lemon juice - skillet drippings. Maybe a little white wine.

Bon apetit.

Of course, you have to finish the meal with a Calvados. Purely to aid the digestion, of course.

Cute and yummy.

24 seconds at Beaune market day

* We later had a chance to sample some Epoisses, and its stinky reputation is undeserved. It has an aroma, but it is in no way unpleasant or overpowering. And it may be the most complexly flavored cheese you'll every try -- nutty, buttery, with a distinct undertone of lamb.

I think they forgot something

As noted previously, Thai food has a fairly small basic ingredient set. Perhaps the most important of these is basil.

The basic stir fry with basil, peppers, onion and meat is called a kra pao, or on English-speaker-friendly menus, ‘Thai basil.’ I always order it because it's my favorite, but because it's a good dish with which to gauge the quality of a Thai restaurant. It allows me to focus on how well it is prepared, rather than wondering what's in it.

Really, I'm doing them a favor. Thai basil should be foolproof.

Thai Herbs (Downtown), a hole in the wall catering to the office worker demographic, manages to get it wrong. On a recent visit I ordered the beef version of Thai basil. What the cook came up with was acceptable lunch fare, but should more properly be labeled 'beef stir fry.'

It contained only 3 or 4 tiny slivers of basil. I've had more basil in dishes that weren't supposed to have basil in them.

A cheap cut of beef is fine, but it has to be sliced thin -- otherwise it takes too long to cook, and comes out tough.

The vegetables were cooked perfectly, sauteed onion and bell pepper, and green beans still crisp. But because they were not overcooked, it doesn't explain the origin of the extra water in the too-thin sauce. I suspect sauce prepared in advance, instead of created in the wok with the rest of the dish.

There are plenty of Thai restaurants in Seattle charging what Thai Herbs charges, yet they deliver a far superior product.

Thai Civil War

The reality of many restaurants with ethnic menus is that a lot of the dishes are variations on a core of basic ingredients. The exceptional restaurant knows how to take those basics and vary them in interesting ways. The standard restaurant fails to innovate and just exists in time and space.

A prime example of this contrast is currently on display in a little Thai civil war going on near Pioneer Square. In one corner: upstart Thai 65 (93 Marion, $7.50-$9.50). In the other corner, your returning champion, cube worker fave Mae Phim (94 Columbia, everything $5.99).

These establishments are on opposite sides of the venerable Colman Building (which also houses the two Irish pubs Fadó and Owl & Thistle -- Fadó on First Avenue, Owl on the Post Alley side).

The basic ingredient set for Thai food is rice noodles, the sweet sauce, chilis, a vegetable assortment, meat or tofu, coconut milk (when called for), and BASIL.

Yet in terms of the final product Thai 65 and Mae Phim are light years apart.

Mae Phim (foam takeouts)

I've had a few dishes from Mae Phim (but not the soup), and what stands out is that nothing stands out. It all tastes the same -- and not in a good way. The way it's supposed to taste is stir-fried, but the way Mae Phim does it, it comes out tasting braised.

That is: simmered. As a result the flavor lacks the desired taste accompaniment to the sizzle you hear when Thai food is cooked right.

Other quibbles: too much coconut milk transforms braised into bland; small portions on top of a big pile of rice fools you into thinking you're getting more.

And perhaps the biggest sin -- not spicy enough. On the familiar 1-to-5 stars of Thai hotness, 3 is usually on the fence between medium-hot and almost-too-much. Mae Phim's 3 stars is a 1 everywhere else.

Thai 65 (paper takeouts)

On the other hand, Thai 65 is everything Mae Phim is not (and never was). Take a bite of cashew chicken or kra pao and and there it is -- the stir-fry zip and noticeable differentiation of flavors, even though you know both contain many of those same basic ingredients. The flavors are wok-fresh, whereas Mae Phim smacks of pre-cooking.

Especially good is the orange chicken -- not just sliced chicken in syrup, but breaded white meat, delicately soft on the outside, not hard and crusty. The orange sauce does not overpower.

Finally, a tip: Thai 65's hotness scale has a 1 handicap; a 3 is what every other Thai place calls a 4. So be warned.

Mae Phim est mort. Vive le Thai 65.