The Eager Eater

The Murphin Ridge Inn...Relaxing

February in Southwest Ohio is not exactly a winter wonderland. November through March is typified by permanent gray skies, short days, and due to our world’s tendency toward warming temperatures (let’s not get into a political-eco discussion here…my muddy lawn says it is happening), an overabundance of rain instead of snow. These are not typically the ideal conditions for a weekend getaway to the country, but some time away was in order.

After two years since we were originally given a gift certificate to the Murphin Ridge Inn in south-central Ohio, we finally got around to scheduling the trip. This may tell you something about our life or our ability to practice advanced planning. Well, last weekend it was on, and two years were far too long to wait to visit this quiet getaway. Luckily for us, the last Saturday of the month they feature a special chef’s dinner where Chef Jackson gets to cut loose a little.

Set in the Amish region of Adams County, the Murphin Ridge is made up of a main house, ten cabins, and the dining house where dinner is served seven nights a week. We reserved a cabin, and were not disappointed. Beautifully crafted by Amish artisans, the light wood cabins feature no televisions, soaking tubs and lots of cause to relax.

Saturday morning we had the chance to explore the Amish markets of the region. The bounty of craft products, bulk foods, baked goods, pickled everything, and jams and preserves was truly impressive. These markets are completely “off the grid”, producing all of their own electricity. A chat with a proprietor resulted in a trip to the kitchen (a common result when you mention you work for Hobart). He wanted to show off his vintage dough mixers that had been retrofitted to operate off hydraulics and powered by a diesel generator, as opposed to the standard electric motor (you can see it in the pictures). Very ingenious and industrious.

Dinner on Saturday night was excellent. The food at the Inn is not trendy or gimmicky. However, it is based on top-quality seasonal ingredients perfectly and simply prepared. The first course of oxtail soup shined with a richness that was cut by the ideal amount of red wine reduced in the broth. The entrée of confit of duck was presented with crackling-crisp skin and tender meat. The accompanying cider-braised brussel sprouts had a balance of sweetness that had me thinking about how I could make them at home. The truffled potatoes that accompanied Stephanie’s lamb racks were luscious and tasted of fresh butter. Desserts of poached pear with pistachio sabayon and a textbook chocolate soufflé with a coffee sauce drizzle were ideal conclusions to a fine meal.

We are looking forward to returning. I want to see the fields green with corn and soybean. I want to sit outside by the fire pit. I want to take a drier hike in the woods. I want to have that oxtail soup again.

Eric

Why Trader Joe's Rocks

Last post I complained about the lack of great produce and artisan products available in Dayton. I didn't talk about Dorothy Lane Market, which I will post about at another time and we are very lucky to have in the area.  However, what is on my mind today is Trader Joes. If you don't have a TJ near you, or haven't heard of it, it is one of the best things to hit us in years. It is a very specific type of shopping experience based around branded prepared foods, organics, frozen proteins, wine, cheeses and bulk foods. All of this available at great deals. That description does not really do it justice. I know many a convert that shop almost exclusively at Trader Joe's.

When I came home from work today, Stephanie had a great salad for dinner. A salad that some may spend hours preparing, and others might acquire from the prepared foods counter of a boutique deli. Perfectly sweet roasted beets, tender lentils, tart dried cranberries, and soft goat cheese. The Trader Joes  difference is that the beets were peeled and roasted, the lentils steamed, the goat cheese crumbled, and with the cranberries, some sunflower seeds, scallions and a splash of apple cider vinegar  a salad is born. 10 minutes or less.

I'm not saying freshly roasted beets from the garden, organic lentils and Laura Chenel cheese might not be better. It might. Then again, taste is in the moment, and we didn't have any of that stuff. We had Trader Joes, and it made tonight's dinner perfect.

Eric

Cauliflower...Just Cauliflower

I have been reading too many great food blogs lately. And…I admit it. I have coastal envy.

Reading many of the most popular blogs, most of which are based in Seattle, San Francisco, LA, and New York, I can’t help but feel kind of pained when someone shares how they just returned from such-and-such market and picked up beautiful specimens of (enter desirable vegetable here) that they are going to pair with a wonderful loaf of bread purchased from the corner bakery and some perfectly ripe cheese grown in a cave by silicone valley dropouts. When I go to the local grocery store in Dayton, Ohio, I don’t find locally grown much of anything this time of year.

I did, the other day, find some cauliflower. Not from any farm that has a name (other than Dole). Not organic. Just cauliflower.

Living in the Midwest the most common use for cauliflower is often the cruelest: Crudité. At the end of any corporate function, a black plastic catering tray will stand, picked clean, bowl scraped of dill dip, with only cauliflower remaining. Even in this most humiliating of presentations, cauliflower is further disgraced.

Additionally, cauliflower has been done no service by Simplot or Birds Eye frozen "California" blends. This mushy mixture of broccoli, cauliflower and waffle-cut carrots has been forced upon far too many grade school children, invalids, and wedding guests. The name alone is troubling to me (I hope that my idyllic vision of Californians eating organic, heirloom vegetables procured from an appropriately scruffy Berkeley grad can remain intact for the time being).

However, as I have seen testament on many a post, cauliflower can be transformed. Simply roasted with olive oil, lemon and sea salt. Tonight we incorporated the addition of fennel and curry to create a more-than-satisfying side dish. Hey, I could have eaten just this!

Hmm…I wonder what people in San Francisco are eating tonight? I'm sure it is beautiful and unavailable at the local Kroger.

Eric

Roasted Cauliflower with Fennel and Curry

1 Head Cauliflower cut into ¼ inch slices
½ Bulb Fennel cut julienne
1 Tablespoon Olive Oil
½ Teaspoon Curry Powder
½ Lemon, juiced
Sea or Kosher Salt to taste
Cracked Black Pepper to taste

 Pre-heat oven to 400 degrees. Toss all ingredients together and spread out in baking dish in a single layer to promote carmelization. Roast for approximately 15 minutes until cooked through and well browned. Drizzle with a good olive oil before serving. 

Food Styling and Photography: Take 1

In response to a photography challenge on Still Life With..., a incredibly informative food blog from the same author as Cook & Eat, I decided to try and get a little more serious about my food photos. This is the first time I have really thought a lot about composition, lighting, and color.

The nature of the challenge was the color white. So, for dinner I found some clams at the market, boiled some linguine, and sautéed shallots, fennel and garlic with some of the homemade bacon scraps we had left over. The results were a satisfying meal, and some above-average food photos.

I'm pretty hooked on this food photography thing. I just hope that Stephanie can wait another five minutes to eat while I get just the right shot.

You can see all the entrants to the challenge here.

Udon

In the world of pasta there are many fine species, but udon may be my favorite. The texture of udon, smooth and elastic, with just the right amount of spring, coupled with its flavor-absorbing ability, sits just right with me. A little more on udon here.

Last night Stephanie had this waiting when I got home. A rich beef broth seasoned with ginger, dashi, lime and ginger, garnished with crimini and chanterelle mushrooms and thin sliced strip steak. I'm a lucky man. This is the simple kind of dish I could eat almost every day.

From the recent posts it appears as if we are on somewhat of an Asian kick. I guess these warm, spicy dishes are comforting to me when it is so cold and rainy outside.

Pad Thai

Last night my parents joined us for dinner. I made Pad Thai from Victor Sodsook's book True Thai. It is a fairly straightforward recipe with quite good results. I took a lot of pictures and came up with a few pretty good ones.

Pizza Battle: What is "Good"?

We have a regular group that gets together for an event called "The Off". It started about three years ago with  a rib-off, a battle between four guys for swine superiority. In the months and years following that epic battle, we have dueled over burgers, chili, desserts, grilled meats, and other meal categories. This Friday we tussled over pizza, and the results got me thinking...what is good?

The group brought forth the following entries:

• Roasted potato, white sauce and prosciutto
• Maple sausage, wild mushrooms and aged Italian cheeses
• "Ruben" pizza, with thousand island dressing, corned beef, sauerkraut, and swiss cheese
• Pears, prosciutto, caramelized onions, and Fontina

You know what? I liked the Reuben. What does that mean for me? Everything in my history says I should go for the pear pie, or at least the roasted potato. Every issue of Gourmet, Saveur, Cooks Illustrated, Food Arts and all the cookbooks I own tell me the Reuben is not the right choice. It is far too pedestrian...too ..."sandwichy".

But I'm hooked. The tang of the kraut. The richness of the beef and the creamy-island goodness of the dressing. Excellent. My buddy Drew got the idea from a bar we go to occasionally. They serve a similar pie with rye croutons on top. I have a strange feeling when I hear that, like the puzzle is complete.

So, what is "good"? Is it expensive? Is it creative? Is it technically sophisticated? Or, is it just tasty? As of today, I'm going for just tasty...with no apologies.

Tacos Loco

Tacos are one of those deceptively simple foods. It's really just a tortilla, some seasoned meat, and maybe some cilantro and onion. So what is the secret to a great taco?  First of all, for a traditional taco,  it must be built on the solid foundation of quickly-sauteed corn tortilla, or maybe two. The meat is paramount. At Tacos Loco in Troy, OH (stay with me here), they really serve one of the best versions around.

Today I treated my self to a trio of these beauties: Chorizo, carne asada, and  cabeza. When I take people here, the cabeza is usually where we part ways. Too bad for them! Cabeza is basically stewed beef head, cooked with onions, garlic and spices, until the meat falls off the bones. The meat, fortified with the gelatinous goodness of the head, makes for one awesome taco filling.

This place makes some great chile and avocado sauces to accompany the tacos. Check out my memorable meal map to find this taco cart. Overall a great place. Carmen works the griddle, and she was nice enough to let me take her picture. Why not...who wouldn't be proud of those tacos?

If you want to know more about great tacos, check out this article in Texas Monthly magazine about the 63 tacos you must eat before you die. That is a mission I may have to work on.

Pasta on a Thursday

In a continuing effort to not eat like we're still twenty, Steph made another dinner that was a real winner. Whole wheat  pasta with shrimp, peas, bacon, sun-dried tomatoes and cream. We're still using up the shrimp and sun-drieds from last night, and we had some of the last of the homemade bacon that we cured and smoked (more on that another time). Apparently this meal had under 500 calories. This is not something I usually think about (it makes my head hurt), but I really need to keep under control the majority of the time so I can really dig in when necessary. THis meal felt like a sacrifice in no way.

Our Food and Her Food

Despite two parents with culinary degrees, multiple above-average restaurant experiences, and sitting across the kitchen island while untold numbers of excellent meals were crafted, my child will eat nothing but fish sticks, peanut butter sandwiches, and corn dogs. Now, occasionally she will also eat grilled chicken, steak, and fresh fish, so don't call child welfare on me. She used to love peanut butter and jelly sandwiches until the jelly jar fell on her toe, and now no more jelly.

I must admit that I have somewhat of a complex about this. Sophie is funny, beautiful, a genius (I'm not biased), and five. However, there is nothing that kicks me in the gut more than when some friend of mine says these words, "my (insert child's name here) will eat anything!".

Well good for you.

Last night for dinner Stephanie made shrimp broiled with garlic and lemons, brown rice (we're on a health kick), and spinach with caramelized red onions and sun-dried tomatoes. Not too shabby for a Wednesday.

Sophie had fish sticks, brown rice (which she refused to eat because she insisted that it was mixed with "woody things"), and carrots. Oh...and of course, ketchup...children's nectar of the gods.

I guess I shouldn't be too worried about this. She is healthy, and hasn't been to the doctor for anything other than regular checkups in a year. Actually, I kind of wish I had a little of her self control.

Hey...I wouldn't eat tomatoes until I was 20...and I turned out OK.