A dash for bragging rights at Hungry Cat

It took weeks of verbal sparring to get Matt Jeronimo and John Curtis—two bartenders at the Hungry Cat—to the point where they needed to step outside to settle their argument. But on Monday, dressed only in their lightest gym outfits, the pair met up on Selma Avenue—a quiet block just outside of Hungry Cat—to finish the argument for good.

It all started as a casual conversation that was inspired by a friendly regular at the bar. He had asked about their past glory days, but soon after, the two co-workers were soon disagreeing. This was not a political or philosophical dispute. It was a different kind of argument that could not be settled by words. What was needed was physical proof.

The issue was, quite simply, who was the faster runner.



Both men were sprinters for their high school track teams. After comparing past race times and current exercise programs, Curtis didn't hesitate to tell Jeronimo who was the faster runner. But Jeronimo refused to accept Curtis' claim that he was the faster runner. Jeronimo wanted proof. "I threw down the white glove," he explained just minutes before the race. "I suggested we do something like a 100 meter sprint."

Curtis—a man unafraid of physical trials (he competed on the reality show "Wipe Out")--was slow to agree to the foot race. After weeks of Jeronimo's unabashed call to action, however, Curtis finally consented.

But by Monday at 2:45, some 15 minutes after the proposed start time of the race, it appeared that Curtis wasn't going to show. Was Jeronimo concerned? Jeronimo pushed back his hair with one hand. "We work together behind the bar tonight. What are you going to do?"

Jeronimo insisted he wasn't interested in winning bragging rights from a forfeit. "I still want to know who's faster," the brown haired bartender said as he waited for his competitor at the Hungry Cat's bar and nursed a glass of iced orange juice.

At three o'clock, Curtis arrived, dressed for a foot race. Jeronimo's face lit up as he eyed his sneaker-clad foe. "I gotta tell you, I broke a couple of ribs on the Fourth," Jeronimo admitted as he lifted his sleeveless running shirt to expose a dark purple bruise under his right nipple.

Curtis stopped mid-stride and asked with true concern, "Sure you still want to do this?" Jeronimo nodded, solemnly. "I'm just gonna have to run through it. Nothing you can do."

A camera toting blogger (yours truly) and a restaurant regular (my husband) marked the beginning and end points of the race. With nothing more than a friendly "on your mark, get set, go!" the race began.

A black-vested parking attendant and several curious passersby watched from the sidewalk as the two men sprinted down the center of Selma Avenue. Curtis' lean form and tight running gait quickly gave him a measurable lead. His pained competitor grimaced as he struggled to keep up.

Within seconds, the race was over.

Curtis wasn't a boastful winner. He smiled and offered a friendly set of knuckles to his co-worker for a fist bump. For the first time in what may have been weeks, the two co-workers smiled at each other with relief. The argument was over. The fastest man won.

As the two runners caught their breath as they retraced their route down the short distance of Selma, Jeronimo sighed with frustration. "Man, I just couldn't find that other gear." Then, without a moment of hesitation, Jeronimo added "Best two out of three?"

Curtis laughed, but it was clear there wouldn't be another race any time soon.

Border Grill Taco Truck vs. Kogi

Since the beginning of the Mozza's, Nancy Silverton has celebrated this nation's independence day with her employees. Naturally gracious and generous, Nancy has opened her home to her dedicated kitchen staff (the chefs, prep cooks, dishwashers) and gregarious front of house employees (servers, bussers, bartenders) and invited them to eat, drink and be merry.

Every year a new challenge

The first annual Fourth of July Mozza party Nancy served trays of food from Marouch, the second year employees gobbled up burgers from an In-n-Out truck for hours and on the third annual Fourth of July party Nancy decided it was time for a culinary showdown.



I got a message from Nancy on my voicemail, late Friday night.

"Brooke. It's Nancy. Nancy Silverton. Call me."

Granted, Nancy doesn't call me every day—or ever, to be honest—but the fact that my name and number lives in her phone at all makes me very, very happy. "I've got the Kogi truck and the Border Grill girls coming." She told me early Saturday morning. "It's going to be a taco truck showdown."

The showdown



Kogi was the first to arrive. When the truck pulled into Nancy's driveway, Mozza employees quickly began lining up for a chance to try Kogi. Kogi + a short line + free meal = happy employees. With plastic cups filled with beer and Italian wine, the party guests happily chit-chatted as they waited for their Korean tacos.

When asked if most people had tried Kogi before, many admitted they hadn't. A few taco truck afficionados admitted they had and added, "It's not waiting in one of those lines, though."



Granted, the people that work at Mozza have very high standards when it comes to the food they eat, serve, and cook. But overall, the general consensus was that the Kogi truck offered good flavors but nothing that was worth waiting for in an hour line.

We all sampled the dishes before passing judgement*. The rich short rib slider was sweet and savory and offered the a perfect textural interplay between the chewy meat and the soft bun. But as we progressed though the spicy pork and chicken tacos we found the flavors to be too similar –everything is sugary sweet and red chili spicy--and the tacos didn't offer any diversity in taste. Updating a classic street food can offer all sorts of great culinary discoveries, but unfortunately, the Kogi truck's hand-held dishes all tasted the same. Hitting the same flavor note over and over again is monotonous.

It was about the time when most people were considering what to eat next when the Border Grill truck pulled up curbside. Within seconds of parking outside of Nancy's beautiful ivy covered home, a line spontaneously formed.



With Kogi truck chef, Roy Choi, near the front of the line to sample the competition, we were all excited to see what the Border Grill girls had cooked up for us. Mozza guests ooohed and aaahed as co-workers at the front of the line offered views of their trio of tacos. The three Border Grill tacos were a bright rainbow of colors: Purple/red pickled onions, green guacamole, bright white sour cream excited hunger and signaled palates to be prepared for some taco diversity.



The sweet, crunchy acidity of the red onions gave a wonderful textural counterpoint to the soft and flavorful meat of the cochinita pibls pork taco. The squared cubes of potato in the potato rajas taco were cooling morsels between bites of the spicy meats. The guacamole had people licking their fingers and stealing mouthfuls from their distracted co-workers. The roasted poblano quesadilla with cheese was a mild choice good for a large party, but had big pieces of pickled jalepeno on the side for those that like to spice things up.

Two taco trucks rolled up. Only one wheeled-kitchen would win.

Based on the unabated line at the Border Grill truck, the tossed trays of half-eaten Kogi, and sophisticated discussion (and drunken banter) about the merits of the Korean tacos and the appreciation of classic Mexican cuisine-- it very quickly became clear who the winner was.

Border Grill wheels away with bragging rights

As the trucks pulled away and inebriated--I mean satiated--party guests gathered their things, we gathered around our generous host to thank her for opening her home (and pool) to each and every one of us culinary misfits. We look forward to seeing what's in store for next year's party!

*I have had Kogi three times--once at the Alibi room (I waited 45 minutes for my trio of tacos), once at Nancy's party (the tacos were free) and once at a food event (also free).

God Bless America

I might not say it much, but I really am proud to be an American. Proud to live in a democratic country where freedom of speech is treasured and issues of ethics are weighed and decided by many--not just one supreme leader.

It's true, I'm not really a flag waving kind of girl, but I do have moments of civic pride. The night Obama was sworn in had me wishing I could bang a drum and sing that hokey tune they always sing at sporting events about being proud to be an American. When I hear my mother and father in-law talk about how lucky they feel to have immigrated from Guatemala and become citizens in a country so beautiful, safe and full of opportunities my heart swells with appreciation. And early one morning in September of 2001, I cried tears of pride and humility when I heard about the courageous American men and women that helped bring their own plane down, in order to save hundreds--if not thousands--of others.

Beyond the philosophies, declarations and laws that make up this great country, the thing I'm most proud of are the American people. Once I get past the stereotypical personas and bone chilling ignorance of some, I am struck by the fact that this place celebrates believing in yourself and the freedom to pursue The American Dream.

I recently heard a political comedian say this of Americans: "We're not a thinking people. We just do it." And though this behavior often gets many of us Americans into quite a bit of trouble at the dinner table, international events and war zones, I do find this American trait endearing.

Fearless Passion

The fearless passions of the American people can sometimes be a scary thing, but the juxtaposition of brilliance and ignorance is what has made me become a writer, journalist and story teller.

I raise a glass to the American people. Here's to our differences and the freedom to express ourselves.

Foodbuzz 24, 24, 24: Zingerman's Guide to Good Eating

“I’m craving American food!”

I’ve lived in the US my entire life and never have I heard anyone exclaim such a thing. But now that I’ve eaten at Zingerman’s Roadhouse—an Ann Arbor, Michigan restaurant that celebrates the culinary traditions and artisan food makers of the United States--I’ll be saying that phrase a lot. Zingerman’s Roadhouse makes me proud to be an American and hungry for its regional specialties.

Where else can a discerning food lover enjoy tasty buttermilk fried chicken, savory Southern Carolina BBQ, sweet Hawaiian Pineapple Chicken Salad, meaty Maryland crab cakes and earthy-sweet Pennsylvania Dutch Creamed corn in one glorious location?

One trip to the Roadhouse and you’ll save yourself a three thousand mile cross-country culinary tour. The masterminds behind Zingerman’s Roadhouse studied the nation’s gastronomic traditions with the care of scholars and created a menu that celebrates the nation’s best dishes all in one central locale.


Zingerman’s puts Ann Arbor on the culinary map

Zingerman’s may have started in 1982 as solitary delicatessen dedicated to serving great sandwiches, but it has since grown to include six other establishments that consist of a bakehouse, creamery, training branch, culinary press, and an impressive mail-order artisan food company. The Roadhouse—the seventh establishment in the Zingerman’s Community of Businesses—is a tour de force where elements from all of the culinary outposts can come together.

Welcome to the Roadhouse


Enter the Roadhouse and Zingerman’s friendly staff is always happy to help. Past the blur of the busy open kitchen, beyond the colorful signage announcing daily specials and the glass cases filled with vintage salt and pepper shakers, you’ll find diners tucked away in backroom booths, bellied up to the bar or lounging outside at tables adjacent to the barbecue pit.

My husband and I sat at the bar so that we could study the names of the Michigan-local brew taps. We were impressed by the extensive selection of rare Bourbons, jars of house made maraschino cherries and containers filled with freshly squeezed juices. Unlike many restaurants across our fair country, no mixers are used and only fresh ingredients are stocked behind the bar.

Our barkeep, Adam, greeted us with an uncommon enthusiasm and excited menu descriptions that had us wishing we could order everything. Adam told us how Roadhouse Chef/Partner, Alex Young had such a commitment to fresh ingredients he started a three-acre organic farm to supply the restaurant with all its seasonal produce. Located in Dexter, Michigan, the Roadhouse’s dedicated farm produces lettuces, radishes, scapes, morels, asparagus, and almost thirty different heirloom varieties of tomatoes for the restaurant. Roadhouse food wastes are composted and trucked to the farm to improve the health of the earth.

While still mulling over the menu choices, Adam presented my husband and I with a sample of the Roadhouse’s famous barbeque. On the plate were mouthfuls of pulled pork topped with three different sauces: earthy, eastern North Carolina vinegar, sweet Memphis tomato, and spicy South Carolina mustard. Adam explained how Ed Mitchell, a North Carolina native and pit master, moved to Michigan to teach the Zingerman’s crew how to smoke free-range, heirloom-breed hogs over oak for over fourteen hours and prepare the meat southern-style.

To drink, we ordered the Jolly Pumpkin "La Roja, a sour amber craft beer that gets its tart, food friendly acidity from naturally occurring yeasts found in the brewery. Within seconds of sampling the beer, a smiling server named Brian dashed over to enthusiastically approve of our beer choice.

“Cool!” the young man with the long side burns exclaimed with unsolicited enthusiasm. “You guys picked the best beer we have!”


We paired our sour beer with Zingerman’s Chesapeake Bay Crab Cakes ($12.50). More Maryland jumbo lump blue crab meat than anything else, the cake’s sweet flavor was enhanced by a dollop of Zingerman’s ultimate tartar sauce*.

While waiting for our next course, the bartender poured us a sample of Zaison, a Belgian styled beer Jason Spaulding, the Roadhouse’s bar manager (and former New Holland Brewery’s brewmaster), created for the restaurant. As we enjoyed the beer’s zesty flavors and light style we had the good fortune of meeting Jason, and happily listened as he explained how he came to make the food-centric, single-batch brew with orange peel and black pepper.



If it isn’t clear yet that the Roadhouse isn’t your typical restaurant, it’s time to point out an important aspect that many people don’t realize is a key to Zingerman’s success: an unrivaled commitment to service. From the minute you walk through the door, every employee goes out of their way to make sure that they can help give you the best possible experience. Want to have creamed corn instead of coleslaw on your entrée? Sure. Want a behind-the-scenes look at what’s going on inside Zingerman’s Roadshow (a free standing take out “trailer” designed for speedy breakfast, lunch and dinner to-go orders)? Come on inside! At Zingerman’s, “no” is not in the employee’s vocabulary.

In preparation for the arrival of our entrees, we ordered the Dragon’s Milk Beer. This gloriously dark and hoppy beer from Michigan, gets its vanilla and mocha flavors from being aged in bourbon barrels.



The beer paired perfectly with the sweet, Niman Ranch pork ribs ($19 for a half rack). Cooked for nine hours in Alex’s Red Rage Tomato BBQ sauce, the ribs were served on—thanks to Zingerman’s yes-we-can attitude--a generous portion of South Carolina corn grits and mustard coleslaw. The sweet and meaty ribs were fall-off-the-bone tender and chewy from the long, slow cook. The grainy texture of the grits and the sweet crunch of the coleslaw made the title “side dish” seem like an insult—these were must-have bites that required our full attention.



We enjoyed the Southern Carolina mustard BBQ pork entrée ($11.50) with Pennsylvania Dutch Creamed Corn and Southern-style braised collard greens. The mustard vinegar sauce (a favorite in western South Carolina) enhanced the moist and flavorful pork without overpowering the meat’s natural flavors. The earthy sweetness and playful texture of the creamed corn played perfectly against the tart collard greens.

Had we more room for food, we would have ordered the Buttermilk-fried free range chicken with mashed potatoes, gravy and coleslaw. But we had enjoyed that dish and many others on a previous visit, and thought better to save room for dessert.



Thank god we did, because the Roadhouse brownie sundae is not to be missed. Zingerman’s bakehouse brownies are crave-worthy on their own. But served warm, with the Creamery’s fresh vanilla ice cream, a perfect amount of hot fudge and a house-made maraschino cherry—we were in heaven.

As a fan of one of America’s greatest liquors—Bourbon—I decided to try a Roadhouse specialty cocktail. . A perfect American cocktail to end a perfectly American meal, the Kentucky Bed Warmer is made with Knob Creek and Blenheim ginger ale. It’s a delightful tippler that aids digestion and makes you smile.

It’s only been a day since I visited the Roadhouse, but I can already feel a new kind of craving coming on. I turn to my husband with a smile.

“Hey honey, guess what I’m craving…”

Kentucky Bed Warmer
From Zingerman’s Roadhouse

2 ounces Knob Creek
1 ounce Orange Curacao
2 dashes Orange bitters
Blenheim ginger ale
Orange zest

Add Knob Creek, Orange Curacao and bitters to a Boston shaker filled with ice. Stir until chilled. Add to bucket glass and fill with Blenheim ginger ale. Top with orange zest and serve.

*Zingerman’s Tartar Sauce is a delicious blend of mayo, Dijon mustard, minced cornichon, minced red onion, diced plum tomatoes, Quebec cider vinegar and sugar. Try making your own version at home!

NOTE: Thank you so much to the generous people at FoodBuzz.com for their support of this blog and helping fund this food adventure.

The Rosetta Shallot

Sometimes it’s the smallest lessons that have the power to change every aspect of the way you think. Some people call that life changing moment a "shift". Oprah branded the concept and named it the "Aha" moment.

If I were an influential branding agent, I think I would find a word to signify the transitional moment in the kitchen when cooking is forever changed by a single lesson. Maybe I'd call it "the cast iron moment", or maybe I'd go with something quite simple, like "shallots."

My culinary brain was irrevocably rewired the day I understood shallots. Not long ago, while dining for the first time at the Chez Panisse Café, I found myself marveling at the tiny outbursts of sweet and crunchy acidity hidden between leafy mixed greens. I pulled the plate closer to discover the delicious source of the complex flavors. My charming waiter, Daniel, stepped up to the table as I inspected the perfect, tiny cubes of purple and white hiding underneath the wild arugula on my plate.

"What is that amazing flavor?" I asked him with awe. "Onion?"

Daniel smiled politely. Without a bit of judgment he blew my mind with these three words: "They are shallots." Well drop a pin in my map of culinary time and mark it "shallots". My salads and mignonettes have never been the same since.

Pre-Shallots (PS)

Before I truly understood the subtle power of the shallot (the 12th century crusaders called the shallot "valuable treasure"), I mistakenly thought them to be a smaller, more expensive version of the onion. Though shallots may have a similar structure to onions —concentric rings and a papery skin—they are a different species altogether.

Rosetta shallot

Now that comprehend the role shallots play in simple salads and gorgeous mignonettes, I can, so to speak, understand their language. Now whenever I go to the farmers' market, I'm sure to pick up a couple of tight, heavy shallots (I prefer the smaller ones for their mild flavor and sweetness) for my week's menu.

At home, I transform the shallots into a pile of tiny, mignonette squares, drizzle them with red wine vinegar, cover the stuff, and leave the precious mix in the refrigerator. Having this shallot mise-en-place on hand saves time and creates the most incredible salads in just seconds.



Shallots can be found year round, but the prime time for them is from April through August. When choosing shallots, look for firm ones that are heavy for their size. Avoid shallots with soft spots or are sprouting.



Post Shallot Simple Salad
One of the best parts about learning basic technique, is that you don't need to have recipes. Salad making is one of the best places to learn how to create by feel and with your taste buds. Allow this to be a simple guide.

Two big handfuls of greens (washed and dried)
2-3 fresh radish (or another lovely market vegetable), thinly sliced
great olive oil like Oleificio Chianti extra virgin olive oil(Alice Water's olive oil of choice)
Salt
Pepper
1 shallot, cubed uniformly
good red wine vinegar

Toss the cubed shallot into a small bowl and drizzle with red wine vinegar. Let sit for at least 15-20 minutes. Fill a salad bowl with enough mixed greens for the number of people you are serving. Season with salt and pepper. Drizzle lightly with olive oil. Gently toss with clean hands. Take a generous pinch of the wine soaked shallots and add to salad. Toss and taste for balance. Drizzle more vinegar if needed. Add some of the sliced radish and toss again. Taste and then plate the salad onto cold plates. Add the final amounts of radish to the plate for color and serve.