Goodies First

Borderline Offensive

I just saw this supposedly controversial Burger King ad for the Texican Whopper while in Madrid (yes, I watch lots of TV on vacation just like in real life, but Rock Star and Ghost Whisperer are learning experiences when en español) and didn't realize is was specifically a Spanish product. I assumed it was a silly American-made commercial. It's not terribly offensive unless I'm missing something, though I've never been the most culturally sensitive person. I'm certainly not alone; read a real Texican's perspective on Guanabee.

I'm not sure about the Texican Whopper but if time had permitted, we would've tried the "gourmet" ciabatta-based McDonald's burger being advertised like crazy (but not so advertised that I can remember the product name). Cheddar and emmental? Nuts.

On the fast food track, I was shocked and excited by the presence of Guatemalan fried chicken chain, Pollo Campero, in Madrid. We planned to stop by after seeing Watchmen (really not my thing but it surely beat Hotel Para Perros) but post-midnight on a Sunday is slim pickings (I still don't get Madrid's reputation for being a night city—bars close at 2am) and the gates were already down. Instead, we opted for Vips, the only nearby eatery still serving, and I ordered a strangely charred yet not fully cooked quesadilla with salsa so mild it verged on tomato puree. That was sort of Texican-inspired, now that I think about it.

I swear we had a chain along the Oregon Coast in the '80s called Vips that had a rabbit mascot. Could it possibly be the same company?

Tater Nots

The recession certainly brings out strange recipes in the name of thriftiness. Internet sensation Great Depression Cooking with Clara can concoct hot dog potato hash because she’s 93 years old and who’s to argue.

But when I open an e-mail touting the Idaho Potato Commission’s, “Watching Waistlines and Wallets” (hey, two of my favorite things) and see a dish called Fruity Idaho® Potato Breakfast Squares, I am frightened. There is also another user-contributed recipe for Chocolate Chip Idaho® Potato Poppers.

I grew up in a state that bordered Idaho; I understand a potato’s appeal yet the only sugary tater chimera I ever want to see is an Idaho Spud, one of my favorite candies.

I will admit that I appreciate the cross-cultural attempts in the more savory non-wallet-watching categories. Roy Yamaguchi of the Financial District’s recently departed Roy’s provides a way complicated recipe with lots of impossible to source ingredients (unless you live in Hawaii). His Lasagna of Idaho Potato with Halibut and Lemon Grass Curry Sauce uses Kona crab claws, masago caviar and Waimanalo corn kernels.

And chef Julian Medina’s Idaho Potato and Huitlacoche Soup with Oaxaca Cheese Croutons is probably not getting whipped up in homes around the nation either. Granted, it’s considerably easier than the Casuelitas & Carnitas requiring tamales from scratch made from lard and masa harina

Sowing My Oats

I’m hesitant to review (if that’s what you can call this) freebies because, you know, I just can’t be bought (not to mention how mom blogger it feels). But I eat a granola bar every couple days anyway so it was no big thing to try three varieties of the new Quaker True Delights line. Quaker must be on a promotional rampage; Wednesday they had Top Chef contestants oat encrusting everything during the quickfire challenge. No one needs to be eating eggplant spackled with dry oatmeal.

Granola bars are a strange foodstuff. I wouldn’t say that they’re good for you and it’s not as if they do shit in the way of filling you up; they’re just a less egregious snack than a candy bar.

In grade school I was jazzed when chewy chocolate chip was invented. And don’t get me started on Dipps or Kudos (that is how I added the previously unknown word to my vocabulary, though). It’s hard to believe that soft, granola bars studded with M&Ms, Oreos and drizzled with chocolate did not exist before the ‘80s. It felt like you were getting away with something in comparison those dusty, dense Nature Valley bars that were usually packed in my lunch. To this day I still prefer Kashi TLC (tasty little chewies) over the heartier crunchy Kashi Pumpkin Spice Flax that James occasionally picks up from Target not knowing any better.

Coconut Banana Macadamia Nut: Banana was the strongest flavor and I wasn’t sure if it was artificial or real until I noticed the embedded banana chips. Then there was a mildly salty, baking soda-y effect followed by coconut crunch. Whole macadamias were nice.

Honey Roasted Cashew Mixed Berry: Sweetest of the three, must be that honey, and heavy on tart berry flavor. The cashews added richness. This was my favorite by far. The odd good thing is that if you’re a poor sap who’s resigned to doing Weight Watchers, this bar only has two points where the others have three.

Dark Chocolate Raspberry Almond: More subtle than the other two. I didn’t encounter any whole berries like in the promotional photo, just speckles. And despite the petite chocolate chunks, this bar felt more Kashi-style healthy than the rest.

So, I would eat a Honey Roasted Cashew Mixed Berry bar if someone handed me one and I was in need of a snack, but as long as corn syrup is the second ingredient I’ll stick to my Kashis. The Corn Refiners Association won’t sway me on their “sweet surprise” no matter how many commercials they produce.

What You Do Prata

1/2 I’m not ashamed to admit that a good food court is one of the few things in life I can get excited about. And by good, I mean a well-curated space offering diverse foodstuffs from the Asian continent. Essentially, an indoor hawker center (I’m not persnickety about hygiene but I do love me some air conditioning).

Singapore really takes the cake in this genre, which isn’t surprising since they prefer modern tidiness over grit. Yes, some might say soulless compared to say, Malaysia, Vietnam…or really anywhere in Southeast Asia. Of course you can eat outside in Singapore too; it’s just that everything’s organized and regulated in comparison.

I love the Food Republic concept. I even watched a television segment about its founder while recuperating in our hotel (one of the many evening spent lying in bed rather than gallivanting around town—I got like zero drinking accomplished on vacation). The thing about these restaurant collections is that for the most part, they’re not mega-chains, many are extensions or evolutions of local eateries, and you won’t find all of the same establishments in each mall.

I first stumbled upon a Food Republic in the Wisma Atria and they had a little of everything: Hainanese chicken rice, herbal soups, sushi, dim sum, laska and so on. We vowed to return for dinner but after spending all day going from mall to mall (nearly all of the shops on Orchard Road are connected) we had strayed too far to go back, plus, we’d already discovered a million other places where we wanted to eat (ultimately, My Mum’s Place in Paragon across from the always packed, distressingly named, Spageddies.)

Our last night in Singapore, after eating so-so Indonesian food at House of Sundanese in Suntec City we did the mall-to-mall crawl and eventually found ourselves in another Food Republic. This one was classy and designed to look like a library with green-shaded desk lamps, wood tables, book wallpaper and padded leather signage. Seriously? A library-themed food court full of amazing Southeast Asian treats in a ginormous mall?! I don’t know if I’ve ever experienced this level of awesome before.

We desperately need an NYC Food Republic. The equivalent would be going to…well, we don’t have real malls in Manhattan. But imagine a giant suburban mall at Union Square. There would be a food court but minus any McDonald’s or KFCs (they would be in the mall, as they are in Singapore, but not as part of the food court). Instead, you might find some of the beloved Red Hook vendors. You couldn’t get DiFara but definitely those Artichoke guys (they’re expanding, right?). Obviously, street cart favorites like Kwik Meal and Calexico could be there. You could go trendy with a salumeria stand, porchetta and charcuterie too. There would have to be bbq, bagels, oh, and deli food and hot dogs but not Junior’s or Nathan’s who would certainly jump on the wagon, Rachael Ray would also want her burgers represented but the public would demand a Shake Shack satellite (I say the public because I’ve never eaten there. Weird, I know) Will Goldfarb could pretend Picnick never happened and get in on the desserts. Duh, and a speakeasy stall, mixology for the masses. Alcohol is one thing Singaporean malls totally lack because they are lame that way. There would have to be drinks. The theme could be Gangs of New York and it could be decked out like Tamanay Hall. Or maybe the Immigrant Experience, yes, the second location in midtown would have Ellis Island memorabilia everywhere. I see pushcarts, newsies and chamber pots.

Do note the books tucked into the shelves in front of the stands. No eating in the library?

Many of the Food Republic shops are showy with big picture windows letting diners watch their Chinese donuts being kneaded, cut and deep fried in a giant oil-filled wok. Or their prata being rolled out and filled with tasty stuffings…

I could only make room for something small, I mean, I wasn’t going to not try something, so James and I shared a cheese prata with the default vegetarian curry containing a lone okra pod. The griddled pancakes weren’t too oily and there was just a hint of mild white cheese (I couldn’t say what type). There’s no getting around the fact that prata are heavy, though. I restrained myself from ordering two and then thought twice when I noticed the woman in front of my getting three (if I were truly nosy, I could’ve followed her to see if she was dining with two others). I am always humbled by the culinary fortitude of Asian girls.

I didn’t realize the name of the stall was What You Do Prata until we were leaving. Despite the silly moniker, the food is a notch more serious. They have guy who makes your prata on demand. I was kind of paralyzed by indecision because in NYC we only have roti canai, no choice of filling or sauce. Here, you could have egg, onion, cheese, combinations of those or meat, but then I think chicken or mutton makes a prata become a murtabak. And there were curries in steam table trays behind glass. Everyone else seemed to know what everything was despite no labels.

Typically in Southeast Asia I haven’t been stymied by language barriers, Singapore is super English-friendly, it’s the food customs. I was thinking of this when I read about Ferran Adria being taken to Katz’s. Even though he could communicate with the Dominican counter guy in Spanish, it’s not like he knew how and what to order.

Roti canai, a flaky, layered pancake that’s always served with a little cup of curry that usually contains as small bone-in chicken piece and one potato chunk, is something you’ll often see as an appetizer in Malaysian restaurants in NYC. I’ve since realized this is weird. For one, what we call roti is prata in Southeast Asia. That’s fine, just a semantics issue. It only occurred to me this time, on my third visit to Singapore, that roti, prata, whatever, isn’t even Malay (though it could be argued that it is Malaysian). It’s something you find at Muslim Indian stalls, a style that I’ve heard called mamak (don’t know if that’s an un-PC term or not). So, Malaysian restaurants in New York, which are run by ethnic Chinese serving Muslim Indian food, are really no different than the American restaurants run by Brits or Australians in Asia that serve tacos, bbq and Cajun food all together.

But more importantly, I have no idea how to categorize prata. Prata is a Singaporean bastardization of Indian paratha so is it Singaporean because it's part of the country's culture or still Indian? Malaysians would claim prata too and they are more Muslim than Singaporeans so is it also Malaysian? Ok, I'm going to call it Malaysian and Singaporean but not Indian, convoluted as it may seem. The closest local example I can think of is whether gyros are Greek or American. It's crazy when food starts making me think like a librarian.

What You Do Prata * Suntec City, 3 Temasek Blvd., Singapore

A Riblet and a Dream

If I were more of an MBA go-getter type who craved a c-suite title (and wore dark-framed glasses half-way down my nose) I would want Julia Stewart’s job. I mean, could it get any better than CEO of Applebee’s and IHOP? Remember, this is the woman whose claim to fame is inventing stuffed French toast.

Today for some inexplicable reason the dining section of the New York Times has run a profile of Mrs. Stewart a.k.a. the “Velvet Hammer.” Choice quote: “Everybody has a quesadilla, but no one has a bruschetta quesadilla.” So right, and if memory serves Applebee’s also has a cheesecake chimichanga.

I vote for a chicken alfredo burrito or moo shu potato skins.

Microwavable Molten Cakes & Blue Cherries

Western Beef will always be my favorite utilitarian grocery store, but when I’m suburban-ing it up as I’m wont to do every month or so, I lean on Shop Rite. It seems kind of the same as Stop & Shop, which I’ve had an on and off again relationship with, but it’s a little more quirky, open 24-hours so you can have the place to yourself at night (because most people have better things to do at 11pm on a Saturday) and they sell Greek yogurt (three brands at that--I eat this nearly every day so a store without it is most unhelpful) unlike S&S or Western Beef.

I’m specifically referring to a Linden, New Jersey location at Aviation Plaza; I can’t speak to the whole chain. This is an area I’m growing fond of in general because it satisfies most of my rudimentary shopping needs and desire for breathing room (never mind that it’s a 20-mile drive, $16 in tolls and I’m not calculating gas). Despite the sense that there is a sizable African American and Eastern European population (the ATMs have Russian as a language choice and there’s a Polish & Slavic credit union in the same strip mall. You can tell a lot from an ATM. My bank, Capital One, formerly North Fork, formerly Greenpoint, which I only joined because it was the most convenient bank when I lived in Queens, is the house bank at this Shop Rite and even has an office right inside the entrance with two sit-down windows. The fast cash option here is $40, the lowest I’ve seen. In Carroll Gardens it’s $60 and the Wall St. branch near my office it’s a whopping $100. You can also choose to take increments of $10 from this ATM, which is something I haven’t seen offered since my Portland days and they probably are up to a $20 minimum by now.) it feels like a Roseanne neighborhood.

There’s a bowling alley, taverns and lots of ratty motels. If there were a slew of used car dealerships, junk/thrift stores and no Italian delis, it would be the type of no nonsense environs my grandparents lived in when I was in grade school (when they weren’t living in a mobile home in our yard—I’m not joking, though it was probably only for a few months it seemed like a year in kid time).

If it weren’t for the pesky problem of getting to Manhattan for work, I would buy in New Jersey, this part of New Jersey, definitely not the areas teeming with garish new construction. House/condo buying is a real possibility in the next year (through no means of my own) and I like to pretend that I have some say in the matter. I’ve also been entertaining nearby Red Hook but isolation and scrappiness shouldn’t cost $1 million-plus. Same goes for Gowanus. I don’t like being in the thick of things; I want to grow out my nasty gray hair in peace…er, and then go check out a new restaurant. Food is really the one thing that keeps me enamored with NYC. It’s certainly not the people. Though I’m not there yet and may never be, I do understand why at this very moment my sister and her British husband are scoping out property in rural Southern Oregon (I’m still not sold on the idea of a cob house, however).

But back to Shop Rite. They aren’t perfect by any means (and apparently there was a lazy-eyed fat woman with a pregnant accomplice robbing people in aisle nine a few years ago). They don’t have those self-serve bottle return machines that are not only rare in the city, but always hogged by the homeless (hey, five-cent refunds aren’t just for the destitute). I was thwarted by their lack of loose green beans or even prepackaged ones in Styrofoam and plastic wrap. They only had $3.99 bags of organic, which I wasn’t buying.

 

But they do have maraschino cherries in rainbow colors. Yes, I’m obsessed with the Roland cherries.

And they have ethnic candles and cookware. I have no idea what ethnic cookware is and don’t think they mean woks. I also love that brands La Fe and La Cena are mushed together into single lowercase words.

 

I don’t generally hang out in the boxed baking mixes aisle so I was surprised at the amount of molten cake madness on the shelf. Americans love the warm and gooey. Those soft-centered monsters are my biggest culinary pet peeves next to Tuscan kitchens. I will admit to being tempted by the 150-calorie microwavable Betty Crocker Warm Delights Minis even though (or maybe because) sugar is my enemy.

 

Obviously, there’s more to Shop Rite than snack food and candles but that’s for another time. I have my loyalty card so there’s no doubt I will return for more than just savings.

Shop Rite * 637 W. Edgar Rd. Linden, NJ

Organic Wood-Fired Balsamic-Glazed Duck Embryo on a Bed of Microgreens

Glancing at my wardrobe, pantry and home décor, it’s obvious that I love me some Target (with a huge proportion of above items also originating from Ikea and Old Navy—yes, I’m cheap with middling tastes). I buy the occasional Archer Farms product, but I’m totally not seeing the logical connection between so-so foodstuffs gussied up to sound gourmet and Andrew Zimmerman, the Bizarre Foods guy and Pepto Bismol spokesman who has become the new SuperTarget Meal Adventure Guide.

Indigestion, diarrhea and larvae-eating are going to make middle America want to try Spinach & Goat Cheese Torino Wood-Fire Pizza or Strawberry Basil Balsamic Vinegar?

What do I know? I was also confused by Wanda Sykes voicing the mouthy Applebee’s apple. Ha, which has been scrapped for the new Applebee’s new emphasis on quality, better finger foods and improved bar scene. I’m inclined to believe this new CEO knows her business because I never eat at IHOP but on my last visit I totally ordered the stuffed French toast, which apparently is this lady exec’s legacy.

Despite not being directly related, I must say that I appreciate how even diarrhea isn’t immune to user-generated content commercials.

Crochet balut from joylimos on etsy

Filet O'Feline

As I’ve said many times before, the busted and chaotic Western Beef headquarters is one of my favorite grocery stores. While picking up Super Bowl provisions this weekend I came face to face with an exterior sign right next to the entrance that I’d never noticed before even though it clearly wasn’t new. The grocer sells plenty of weird bits: pig tails, fish heads and innards of all types, but cat was news to me.

I Say Macaroon

Maybe I’m just dumb (and kind of disinterested in Francophilia and Judaism) but I just now realized that macaroons and macarons two very different things and that the golden, haystacky blobs I’m familiar with are a Passover treat. I just thought they were plain ol' coconut cookies. Even Kraft knew, and they make freaking Teddy Graham banana splits.

In the past year or so I’d noticed food blog saturation with the French meringue cookies (the single item equivalent to Shake Shack and Ssam bar mania—two other icons I’ve avoided). There’s an entire Flickr group devoted to them and in a super cursory search, I immediately turned up 1, 2, 3, 4 posts all by Asian females, which confuses me even further. But I never noticed until this week that the coconut-less circles are spelled macaron, no double O. How did these two cookies both become so closely named? I guess edibles like Spanish and Mexican tortillas are even more wildly disparate with the exact name, and the two don’t give me problems.

I’m fascinated by their unnatural colors (I’m sure I’ve mentioned how my mom used to food color mini A&W mugs of milk green so I would drink it) though I’m not understanding how all the rainbow brightness is reconciled with supposed Parisian élan. It seems rather gauche to me and I know from gauche. Regardless, Laudree looks like they know what they’re doing.

The taste? I have no idea but now I’m hell bent on getting my mitts on an emerald green macaron. Where can I get these downtown or in Brooklyn? It’s not likely I’ll make it up to Bouchon Bakery or Fauchon anytime soon.

Macaron photo by gnuf 

Fourth Dimension

I’m a sucker for advergames (I just learned that jargon at work and thought I’d toss it around). In the early millennium I was sucked in by White Castle’s Craveology campaign (scroll to 9/25/00), which prompted me to collect nearly all 12 pseudo-zodiac plastic cups and I went as far as getting James a birthday ice cream cake adorned with a picture of Cravies, the fry-beared ram (which I thought I had a photo of but I guess this was pre-digital camera days).

Last night while watching 24 I became mesmerized by a new Taco Bell commercial touting the“fourth meal.” I thought I’d invented the concept, except I call it second dinner and try to reserve such decadence for food-centric vacations and rare occasions. I thought their previous blatant “I’m full!” approach was grotesquely gluttonous enough, but wow, inventing an extra eating event is over the top. I’m trying to put that “peeking under their little togas” ickiness from my mind, permanently.

Of course that didn’t stop me from immediately checking out the new URL and playing with the Combinator, a drink pairing game. I picked chalupa supreme, Mexican pizza and caramel apple empanada and was suggested The Flashlight, a combo of 33% Pepsi Wild Cherry, 34% Mountain Dew and 33% Tropicana Lemonade. Virtual soda sommeliers are awesome and I don’t even like soft drinks.

Food Felons

-- I can totally sympathize with this “Sweet Tooth Bandit” who spent nearly $700 at Swiss Colony using a stolen identity. I used to become desperate and tormented every holiday season when the unsolicited Swiss Colony catalog showed up on the mail. I would longingly page through the wish book, coveting the petit fours with all of my grade school being. I never ever got a single item from Swiss Colony and now that I have free will (and better taste in confectionary) I feel less compelled to order anything. If there’d only been an internet in the early ‘80s, who knows what havoc I might’ve tried to wreak.

--It’s not every day that fried chicken brings out the firebug in people. I do love the NYC brand name bastardization process. Somehow Kentucky Fried Chicken (don’t forget the Kitchen Fresh Chicken fiasco) becomes Kennedy Fried Chicken and then JFK Fried Chicken emerges.

I discovered the regionally confused chicken Maryland when I was in Penang. I never ordered any, but it appears to be fried chicken served with fried bananas, fritters, fries and sometimes sausage or bacon. Does that scream Baltimore to you?

The unanswered question in this arson case is why a Twin Donut would be selling fried chicken at all. Franchises are so renegade in NYC--I recall there used to be a Blimpie that sold Thai food on the side and a Chinatown Popeye’s that hawked pork dumplings under the counter. I’m sure there are countless other examples.

--Ok, malnourishment isn’t a felony but if your eating disorder fucks up my commute something criminal just might happen.

Nothing Krafty About It

Maybe I misunderstood this Wall Street Journal article on how today’s People contained scratch and sniff Kraft ads. As a lover of the fine publication, Kraft Food & Family, this seemed like a dream come true. I thought they meant that Kraft was sponsoring this week’s magazine so I couldn’t wait to flip through it at work this evening (I don’t need to subscribe to gossip rags—they’re practically the only periodicals we get at the Post) but it was just a plain ol’ People with a Reese Witherspoon and Ryan Phillippe cover that simply smelled liked glossy paper not an aromatic holiday edition.

I did get excited when I saw a Campbell’s ad with a recipe for green bean casserole. I know, not Kraft but a whiff of cream of mushroom soup and French’s French Fried Onions would’ve been welcome and I don’t even like soupy casseroles (I’ve been trying to detox after overindulging in alcohol and battered fried treats this weekend and eating carelessly in general the past few weeks. I so couldn’t handle the CR lifestyle. As of 8pm I’ve eaten blanched cabbage, green beans and carrots with a little peanut sauce, ¼ cup of spiced pumpkin seeds and a small box of golden raisins and I’m so starving that I’m practically hallucinating. And the peanuts and pepitas probably contain too much fat. The only thing keeping me on the wagon is that I’m working solo until midnight and can’t sneak out for a snack. I do have an emergency orange in my purse because I knew I would have a freak out).

But smelling synthetic food scents is safe, so where are my Krafty advertorials?

Sunday Night Special: Thai Beef Salad

I think it's generally accepted that salads are good hot weather food. It's too bad that salads tend to be really boring, or maybe I just hate the varieties that I make myself. I'd much rather eat a professionally crafted bowl of greens than suffer through my sad renditions.

Thai salads are easy to make, generally healthy and taste a hundred times better than some god-awful Caesar concoction. I went for beef because we had a Styrofoam flat of economy type steaks in the freezer. They weren't really suited for purist treatment, but became a perfect meaty sponge for herbs and spice.

There doesn't seem to be a hard and fast recipe for this dish (nor a proper name--I thought it was yam nuea, but the recipe I settled on was called nahm dtok, which must be off because Googling that phrase only brings up 25 hits. I suspect the dish is more Laotian, which may or may not have anything to do with its small web presence). Some are more like a larb and use roassted rice powder and chile powder rather fresh chiles. Tomatoes, scallions, or mint sometimes show up and sometimes don't. I went a little insane trying to find a definitive version.

Eventually, I just gave up and looked to David Thompson's Thai Food. It was one of the simplest recipes I found and the man knows his shit. My only beef is that he doesn't specify servings (perhaps this is explained somewhere in the book and I missed it). I would guess that using 5 ounces of meat would make this for one. I mean, Americans eat 12-ounce slabs at steakhouses. I suppose if you were being more Asian and serving lots of dishes with small portions intended 5 ounces would suit more eaters. But then, I treated this as a main entrée and doubled it for two.

Grilled Beef Salad
Nahm Dtok

5 oz. beef rump or sirloin
4 red shallots, sliced
2 tablespoons shredded pak chii farang
handful of mixed mint and cilantro leaves
1 tablespoon ground roasted rice

dressing
pinch of white sugar
3 tablespoons lime juice
3 tablespoons fish sauce
very large pinch of roasted chile powder

First, make the dressing; it should be pungently hot, sour and salty.

Chargrill the beef to your taste. Slice beef, and combine with shallots and herbs. Dress the salad and sprinkle with roasted rice.

Serve with a wedge of cabbage and a few snake beans.

* * *

I didn't use the pak chii, which I just learned is culantro (a.k.a. sawtooth herb), not a super hard herb to find in many parts of NYC since it's popular in Puerto Rican cooking. I used to think grocers were just misspelling cilantro because they seem to enjoy doing that quite a bit, but that is the commonly used name here. And I used a mixture of shallots and red onion and tossed in half a tomato, just to use up produce that had been languishing in the fridge.

Northern Thai salads call for sticky rice. I happened to have the glutinous grain, but didn't have the proper set up. I really just need to buy one of those Thai rice steamers because improvising with a metal vegetable steamer in a large pot is a mess. You need cheesecloth and I just put the soaked rice in loose and it got too wet. The end result was more mushy than sticky, though it firmed up a bit after getting some air.

I opted for cucumber slices on the side. As you can tell from the photo I'm not presentation obsessed. The cucumbers had strips of missed skin still on and seeds that didn't fully get scooped out. I had also intended the meat to be rare, though it came out more medium-well. Gordon Ramsey would call me a donkey or a fat ass or something if he got a load of my kitchen standards.

Bonus Yam/Yum/Thot Fun

• And because I have a more than minor obsession with name brand bastardized recipes, here's a Kraft doozy that calls for peanut butter (unbranded), A.1. Teriyaki Steak Sauce and KRAFT LIGHT DONE RIGHT! Zesty Italian Reduced Fat Dressing. At least they have the decency not to use the word yum in the title.
• Hormel's rendition is a little less disturbing, but does make bizarre use of HERB-OX® Beef Flavored Bouillon Granules.
• Here's a most awesome adaptation from Hidden Valley that uses, yes you guessed it, Hidden Valley® The Original Ranch® Salad Dressing & Seasoning Mix. Or as us common folk call it, ranch dressing.

Your Zipcode's Fatter than Mine

  I've always been fascinated by regional difference in chains, particularly where food is concerned. Near and far, a McCheesesteak 100 miles away is just as intriguing and messed up as Royal Masala pizza with sweet potato crust from a Malaysian Pizza Hut across the globe.

The differences can be subtler with stores, but they certainly cater to regional clientele, as is noted in this recent Kansas City Star article," Chain Stores Change Focus."

You start to get into tricky territory when you decide what various ethnicities might want. I don't have a problem with bilingual signage, un-American things like cactus leaves in the produce section or even Spanish language, themed paint lines like Home Depot's new Colores Origenes (though I don't know how neccessary the latter really is). Shops in predominately black neighborhoods should have make up for darker skin tones and relaxers for African-American hair.

But should clothing be garishly hued and animal printed, as is/was the case with Ashley Stewart (which I'll admit I haven't set foot in, in years)? I mean, black women do shop there, so maybe it?s inoffensive. This article also talks about Sears using more form-fitting clothing and brighter colors appeal to minorities. 'Cause you know they love it tight and trashy.

But what weirded me out the most was that Kohl's "coordinates clothing sizes in some of its stores with the body sizes of particular neighborhoods." How on earth is that determined? (I guess they just analyze the SKUs of what sells best.) I want the list of fat and skinny 'hoods. Actually, I paid a visit to the Harlem H&M after hearing who-knows-where that they had a plentiful stock of large sizes, i.e.16, the manufactured, yet phantom H&M size. It must've been an urban myth because this location was disproportionately stocked with 4s and 6s like all the rest.

Toga! Toga!

Ah, so good to see the sick-making leggings trend getting so much ink. And from my favorite NY Times columnist/daughter of a former Peruvian finance minister, who apparently used to rebelliously dye her hair pink and blue and make mix tapes despite now being a pearl-donning (try finding a photo where she’s not wearing them) grown up who thinks nothing of throwing iPods in the trash.

I’m really bothered by that new Taco Bell commercial for the chicken caesar grilled stuft burrito (chicken caesar as a flavor? That’s a whole other thorny issue) that’s not really a burrito. To prove it’s not a burrito, the one toga-clad woman says coyly to the other, “You have to peek under its little toga.” Disgusting. Oh, I just noticed on the website they tell you to "Peek under the Toga at the Nutritional Facts." Who's responsible for that slogan? Is it worse than stirrup pants?

Noodles by Any Other Name

Every other month (is that semi-monthly or bi-monthly…or neither?) I get excited when my Kraft Food & Family arrives in the mail. Such awesome use of Kraft ingredients where they have no right being used, enthralls me every time. 

This issue’s winner is the scrumptious sounding Spaghetti with Zesty Bolognese. There’s nothing like a little Italian dressing and Philadelphia cream cheese to spruce up a classic. But I guess no harm done if Americans want to mess around with meat sauce.

If I’m correct, spaghetti bolognese is sort of a British bastardization, anyway. And even more disturbing than adding dressing and cream cheese to tomato sauce, is how English refer to the dish as spag bol. Nobody should diss the United States’ culinary sensibilities as long as Oriental Spag Bol is allowed to exist across the Atlantic.

Let Them Eat Football Cake

What to make for a Super Bowl party that's really just an excuse to eat bad food and break in a new larger than life plasma TV? Of course, I had to at least skim my favorite messed-up standby, the Kraft site (I also enjoyed how Food TV had Steelers themed food that was all pierogies, kielbasa and sauerkraut while Seahawk fare consisted of wok seared Dungeness crab, oysters, smoked salmon and taro chips. Is that like blue state/red state cuisine demarcation?) because they know how to celebrate (using as many Kraft products per recipe, of course). I was a little wowed by the Cheesy Football, and amused by the sixth (at this moment in time) comment:

This cheese ball was so great! it was such a big hit at our super bowl party we will be having thanks to this website...i have so many great ideas to share w/ u and my friends of all ages including newborns! thank you see u there !

Uh, newborns are allowed to eat this shit? Or does Crazymel20041 just like hanging with newborns? I'm totally confused.

So, I skipped the Cheesy Football, and went pretty bar food basic: guacamole, hot jalapeno crab dip, and saucy little smokies. I'll admit I went with the cocktail wieners simply because we had half of a two-pound Costco bag in the freezer (same with jalapeno poppers, which I also cracked open).

Oh, and it was hard to resist the bizarre simplicity of the half jelly, half chili sauce smokies recipe (a variation floating around the internet is half jelly, half mustard). Grape jelly isn't something I keep around the house (poppers and smokies, sure, but grape jelly? You've got to be kidding) and I had the good fortune of having recently opened and nearly orphaned a jar of pineapple jam in the fridge that I'd only needed one tablespoon of. I conceded and bought a jar of that ketchupy Heinz chili sauce and shook in an additional blob of sambal oelek. Pu-pu platter perfection.

James manned the deep-fryer because it gives him purpose. He went to town with Buffalo wings and Jane showed up later with cornmeal breaded okra, which also got the hot oil treatment. We had intended to deep-fry a few candy bars, but reason got the better of us.

The past couple of years Rich has brought over his specialty, and my nemesis, Cincinnati Chili. I like to believe that I'm not a fussy eater. Really, the only thing I hate is melon, but there are items that are low on my list, just not in full loathsome territory. Those things include spaghetti, chili and wieners, all components of this regional treat.

I'm still not quite clear on the eating procedure. There's the pasta, which gets topped with the chili and grated cheese, but then there are those whole wieners floating in the chili to contend with, not to mention the hot dog buns and oyster crackers. It's all very confusing. Three-way, four-way, five-way?!  I will say that I like the cinnamon as a chili component, it's not a spicy style, but weirdly mole-ish.

And while the Cheesy Football got a pass, the theme lived on in Patrick's Staten Island supermarket football cake. Score!

Lazy-Assed Sides & Squeezes

The world has gone squeeze crazy. Remember when French’s mustard was the only thing in a squishy bottle? Now every condiment comes ready to ooze through a little opening. I guess the point is that you don’t need a knife? Maybe it’s a messy kid thing? I don’t care for the thickness that a squeezed trail of anything leaves on my food, so I just end up having to spread it out with a knife anyway. Now Pillsbury has Treat Toppers Squeeze Frosting because apparently it was too hard to get the readymade stuff from little plastic tub to cake surface. I like novelty, but this product isn’t for people like me.

Also on the weirdo convenience/laziness front are Country Crock Side Dishes. Really, how hard is it to mash potatoes? I don’t have a family to feed, but still, I think I could handle the challenge of macaroni and cheese or rice from scratch. But it doesn’t stop with the sides, the Meals in Minutes brochure shows you how to craft whole meals around prepared foods. Yum, London broil seasoned with Knorr Recipe Classics Roasted Garlic Herb Dip, green beans with Shedd’s Spread, store bought apple pie with Breyer’s vanilla ice cream, Lipton ice tea, and of course Country Crock Side Dishes Homestyle Mashed Potatoes.