Sidney at Willoughby Run — Gettysburg, PA — A Restaurant Recommendation

When my siblings and I visit my parents in southern Pennsylvania, we tend to have the tradition of going out to eat at least once at my parents' favorite restaurant, Cafe D'Italia, located on the square of downtown Chambersburg. It's a delightful little place that offers real Italian cooking by a young chef who loves what he does.

This past visit, however, Cafe D'Italia was closed for renovations. My sisters and I wanted to take my parents out to celebrate their anniversary, and so we were a little bit stumped. What was close by but worthy enough to honor my parents for their anniversary dinner?

After some research, my eldest sister came up with a solution: Sidney at Willoughby Run in Gettysburg, PA. The reviews seemed to be pretty good, and so we took the plunge.

After living in Chicago and Boston more than half my life, I have to admit, I've become pretty accustomed to having my pick of super-great restaurants. I no longer fear reheated frozen vegetables on my dinner plate at the local "nice" restaurant. But when I'm back in my small hometown in ol' PA, it's pretty hard to find a place that doesn't serve just that.

So that is what I was honestly expecting when we drove up to Sidney's. It was located on a golf course, so that right there meant weddings. And when we walked in, the decor was nice, but it still had that "hotel" feel to it. You know, large rooms with "elegantly" patterned, wall-to-wall carpet. And wainscoting. And draperies. Which was all translating to "canned gravy+slices of dry roast beef" in my head.

And I was wrong. Dead wrong.

Let me just put it this way: I was shocked—SHOCKED—at not only the homey hospitality that was exuded by the staff of Sidney's but also by what the chef was cranking out of the kitchen. Every single dish we tried was delicious, beautifully presented, and accompanied by the sincerest charm of our server. I was so engrossed, in fact, that I actually forgot to take pictures!

I take that back. I did snag a shot of my parents toasting each other with the champagne that our server graciously provided to help them celebrate:

And I did get a shot of the glorious dessert we all shared, a creation composed of sour cherry sorbet, baby panna cottas, cilantro flowers, torn and dried cake crumbles, and crisp, piped meringues.

It was a spectacular end to a spectacular evening, an anniversary celebration that we all were looking forward to, and none of us expected to be so special. 

Will we all be going back? Heck, yeah. Cafe D'Italia has got some competition finally, I believe. Anniversary or not, I think we'll find an excuse to go back to Sidney's. It's chef and it's staff have done what every restaurant dreams of doing: they completely won over our hearts.

Keep it up, Sidney. We expect to see you next time.

A Childhood Classic or A New Classic Cocktail?: The Baldwin Bar's Take on Encyclopedia Brown

Ran and Company have done it again.

After spending the entire day yesterday impatiently waiting for evening to arrive, Chef Reiton and I drove to Woburn and spent the dinner hour with some friends, sampling dishes and creations from Volume 2 of the Trading Company's newest menu.

May I suggest, based on our completely destroying all five dishes brought to our table, the Cucumber with Garlic Sauce as an appetizer? It will leave your mouth singing, but your tongue will get used to it, I promise. We also loved the House Special Eggplant, one of Sichuan Garden's chicken dishes that will not leave your nose running (Ran's father runs the restaurant portion downstairs; it is the best Sichuan food you will ever eat. For real.). When it comes to the beverages, I also highly recommend that you just let the staff pick what you drink. Trust me.

We had the great pleasure to be served by Luteh, who can not only read minds but also has the uncanny ability to see into your past. How do I know? Because at the end of our meal, at my request to "just have one more," I was delivered this:

What you see is a little box disguised as a book. Tucked inside are a frosty flask full of the dreamiest (yes, dreamiest) bourbon cocktail I've had in a long time—if ever; a frosty glass with a wedge of lemon peel clothespinned to the rim; and a "library" card printed with the recipe for the cocktail: The Encyclopedia Brown.

(Pardon the imperfect picture, but it's romantically dark in the bar, and I was using my phone. One of these days I will take an Uber and my good camera and go crazy.)

I'm tempted to provide the recipe here, but—I'm a librarian and a violent opponent of copyright infringement, so.... I think you will have to go yourself. If you read the Encyclopedia Brown books as a kid, you'll remember that Encyclopedia Brown would never have stood for such injustice, either.

So. Instead of going to that truly God-awful Chinese restaurant down the street, make a reservation online for the upstairs section of The Baldwin Bar. Savor every bite of your mind- and tongue-numbingly good dinner, every divinely drinkable work of art that are the cocktails, and at the end of dinner, ask to check out "Encyclopedia Brown." It's a "read" you will never forget.

The Delicate Nasturtium Flower...and How to Eat It (and Other Lovely Blooms)

This...

is a nasturtium flower.

A sweet, delicate specimen, it grows from long and leggy stems, protected by lily pad-like leaves.

Loved by bees but hated by garden pests, I plant them amongst my veggies in my garden boxes in order to deter bugs that will destroy my tomatoes, zucchini and cucumbers.

But I have to admit: I also plant them because I like to EAT THEM.

There is nothing more beautiful on a summer dinner table than the bright splash of flowers on your cool, green salad.

And there is nothing more delicious than the peppery bite of a nasturtium flower crunching between your teeth.

Okay, well, maybe this garlicky, paprika-y, finger-sucking-good chicken we experimented with last night:

Chef Reiton and I intend to experiment further on wings, instead. (We'll get back to you.)

The next flower we intend to devour? These babies:

Squash (or zucchini) blossoms. When I can't take eating one more damn zucchini this summer, I will be plucking these gorgeous blooms then stuffing and frying them in an attempt to mimic one of the jewels of our Besh Restaurant Honeymoon. (This, too, we will keep you informed on.)

Also waiting to be eaten in my garden? Violas.

Time for a crash-course in sugaring flowers for a cake? I think so! (Aaaaaaand, I'll keep you posted on that, too.)

God bless summer, right?!?!? 

The Awesomeness of Dinner Leftovers: Breakfast Barbacoa with Eggs

What to do with leftover chipotle barbacoa from our amazing Latin dinner?

Breakfast barbacoa, baby.

Heat the chipotle beef in a skillet on medium with a bit of cotija (or whatever you've got) cheese sprinkled on top. Crack in a few eggs and sprinkle with kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper. Simmer away for a few minutes until the egg whites are mostly set.

Broil for a couple more minutes until whites are all white but yolks are still runny. Sprinkle with more cotija cheese and chopped cilantro and serve.

A gluten-free, primal, protein-packed breakfast with a kick. Dig in!

A Latin American Dinner Menu—and a Few Reminders of Why I Cook (and You Should, Too)

I woke this morning to dreams of last night's dinner—the dinner I emergency-posted last night in a fit of delirious food love. Our kitchen still held the faintest smell of smoky chipotle as I came downstairs for our morning coffee. If we had been hungry, I would have pulled out a bit of the barbacoa, heated it up in the skillet and cracked an egg on top for Chef Reiton.

But we weren't hungry at four in the morning, so instead I uploaded our dinner photos from last night and dorkily reminisced over how fantastic it was.

Our menu? It was an eclectic compilation of Latin American foods:

• Puerto Rican tostones with mayo-ketchup
• Mexican barbacoa served on homemade corn tortillas
• Caribbean cucumber and mango chow

I definitely can't say the dishes we served were all 100% authentic, but I can say that, holy cow, I didn't want to stop eating!

This dinner, believe it or not, was actually super simple and quick. The barbacoa is made in the crockpot; the tostones fry up (twice!) in about 5 minutes total once the oil is hot; and the chow takes about 10 minutes to assemble before it chills in the fridge. The longest part is the tortilla preparation, but that—that I will get to. Save the best for last...

First, the chow. I may have already mentioned this salad-of-sorts in a previous post. I've certainly made it several times already since it was published by Bon Appétit in their April 2017 issue. The recipe is from Miss Ollie of Miss Ollie's in Oakland, CA. It has an easy-to-find list of ingredients and can be made in about ten minutes. The best part is that it can be made a few hours ahead and chilled in the fridge while you are making the rest of your dinner. I love it for its sweet but peppery mango, the heat of chiles, the coolness of cucumber, and the tang of lime. The cilantro allows you to serve it with a variety of ethnic foods that love cilantro: Thai, Mexican, Caribbean. It's simply fantastic.

Next, the tostones. Tostones are thick slices of green plantain that have been fried, flattened, fried again, then sprinkled with adobo seasoning and served with garlicky mayo-ketchup. We learned how to make these babies when we recently had our friend Chaz (JetBlue's BEST flight attendant!) over to cook a Puerto Rican dinner (yes, I will blog on that soon!). 

Not only are these just flat-out fun to make (no pun intended, really!), they are absolutely delicious and healthy, with about 2 grams of dietary fiber for half a green plantain and a low glycemic index. And as for the frying, if you still think fried food is horribly unhealthy, that's because—sorry—you are doing it wrong. Food properly fried barely absorbs any fat; the water in the food immediately starts to steam when the food is dropped into the screaming hot oil, pushing water out of the food so that the fat can't soak in. Don't believe me? Read the transcript of a Good Eats episode by Alton Brown, one of my favorite food scientists, who explains it in a more entertaining way. You can also do a bit of research on this. You'll find that science is right. Thank you, science. 

Now for the barbacoa. I have no idea who Queen To Y'All is, but I want to thank her for posting this recipe on Recipezaar.com years ago and making me and my friends extremely happy. It was a required party staple during my years in Chicago. Now you can find the recipe under "Chipotle Roast for Tacos and Sandwiches" on Food.com. It's awesomely simple. Dump all the ingredients into the Crockpot in the morning, set her on low, and walk away until it's time to prep the rest of dinner. It will sit and simmer happily, silently taunting you, wafting smells of cumin and spice all day long. When it's time to eat, stir it all up with a slotted spoon and put it on the table. That's it. 

We are now left with the best for last... 

I've never in my life eaten a fresh corn tortilla. Even the Mexican restaurants that I've visited use prepackaged. You can tell: they are rubbery, pretty darn tasteless, and absolutely perfectly round. It's actually kind-of too bad I made these (in a good way) because after eating them, I don't know that I'm ever going to be able to eat another commercially made tortilla again.

Corn tortillas may somehow look complicated (like anything does when you've never made one) but in reality are super simple to make. They are made with a fine corn flour called "masa harina" (I used Bob's Red Mill—totally gluten-free, by the way, and you can find it in most grocery stores), salt and water. I used my stand mixer to blend the ingredients into a smooth paste, then Chef Reiton formed them into little balls.

We experimented with different ways to roll them out. Chef Reiton started by rolling them on a sheet of parchment

but we decided that they tore less and came out rounder if they were flattened with my palm between two sheets of parchment and then rolled gently.

We also learned that the little balls need to be kept under a damp towel while the tortillas are being rolled out. They started to dry out rather quickly, making them break and tear when they were rolled. Because of this learning curve, I ended up actually dipping the last several balls of dough into a bowl of water twice then rekneading them to soften them back up again.

With our cast iron skillet smoking hot, we cooked up the tortillas, one minute a side, finishing with a final thirty seconds after the second flip. Later we realized we should have had two skillets going at a time. Duh. It would have gone faster.

The recipe for these tortillas came from a wonderful cookbook by Marilyn and Luis Peinado called Bienvenidos to Our Kitchen: Authentic Mexican Cooking. The book is loaded with every single authentic Mexican dish you've ever eaten plus some. 

You are in luck, too! New copies are still available on Amazon.com as well as used copies on BarnesandNoble.com and eBay.

As Chef Reiton and I sat sipping our rioja at the end of the meal, we couldn't stop oohing and ahhhing over our empty plates. I do not mean this as a boast, but how could we have made probably the best Latin meal I have ever had in our North American kitchen?

The answers are simple:

1. We are willing to experiment making new foods.
2. We are willing to mess up and learn from our mistakes for the next time we try it.
3. We are into saving money while eating food that is usually better than a restaurant's.

Do you want to know how much our dinner for two last night cost us? Actually it's probably closer to three dinners for two, thanks to the leftovers. Let's assume that going out for an average Mexican dinner costs $60 for two people. Sound reasonable? Maybe even a little cheap if you throw a few margaritas into the bill? 

Well, here's what I spent at Market Basket on the ingredients that make three full meals for two (and I'm even going to assume you don't have staples like cumin, garlic, chile powder or oil). I'll even throw in the bottle of wine we had with dinner:

• 2 lb. chuck roast from Walden Local Meats, my pasture-raised meat share: $20.00
• can of green chiles: $.99
• can of chipotle peppers: $2.69
• onion: $.43
• can of salsa verde (even though mine was free because I used my own): $1.29
• beef consumme (used my own, again, so technically free): $1.89
• garlic head: $.40
• cumin: $1.59
• chile powder: $1.29
• adobo seasoning: $2.79
• green plantain: $.33
• corn oil: $3.09
• masa harina: $2.99
• hothouse cucumber: $.99
• mango: $.99
• cilantro: $.99
• shallot: $.25
• bottle of wine: $18.00

TOTAL: $60.99

So, for a more expensive, pasture-raised roast, a good bottle of wine and ALL the ingredients for the meal, I spent the same as the cost of a Mexican dinner out—and I'll actually get THREE dinners for two out of last night, not just the one. AND my homemade dinner was SO MUCH BETTER than the food you get at a restaurant.

And it's not ME who is awesome! It's the FOOD!!!

Sigh.

I'll calm down. But, folks...this is why I cook. And it's why you should, too. It's cheaper. It's healthier. It's waaaaaaay deliciouser. (I know.)

So. Think about what foods you love. Find the recipes. Buy the ingredients. Make the meal. Even if you "screw up," it's going to be good.

Promise.

Homemade Corn Tortillas (and How They Can Blow Your Mind)

I don't really have time to write right now...

But I just finished one of the most delicious multi-cultural dinners I have ever made, and I'm presently completely obsessed with the amazingness of fresh corn tortillas.

I swear more will follow. I PROMISE more will follow. But I will also tell you this right now: I will NEVER buy packaged corn tortillas EVER AGAIN. I don't care if they are $1. I don't care if they are
"faster."

All I know is that what Chef Reiton and I made tonight fricking blew my mind. It wasn't even the same food. Like, seriously. It in no way resembled the tasteless, perfectly round, I-have-to-cook-them-anyway tortillas that I buy at the store.

Which means they were flawed in their roundness. Yes. My anal side really struggled with not being able to make them pretty. But it made no difference in how they tasted. What we made were earthy, vaguely sweet, hearty and hefty. We loaded them with shredded chipotle beef, and did they break like measly, pasty, supermarket tortillas? No. Were they supple, golden and screaming with flavor? A resounding YESSSSSSS!!!

And now I must go. We have to get up at a ridiculous hour tomorrow morning. I just needed to get this off my chest. I'll post the menu tomorrow. Swear...

Buenas noches, amigos. Te veo mañana.

Learning to Devein Fresh Shrimp: A How-to Video

A while back I posted a recipe on Ginger-Lime Shrimp. I promised you all at the time that I would create a video showing how exactly to "devein" (or de-poop, really) the little suckers without tearing into the entire back, destroying the aesthetic quality of a beautifully curled, perfectly cooked shrimp.

Well, a year later, here I am. It's ridiculous, I know, but there were just too many times that I was peeling and deveining shrimp while Chef Reiton was still at work, and my camera is too heavy for my tripod, and... Ugh. Excuses. But good ones, I swear.

Before I show you the video, I want to descriptively run through what I do, as well as show you a few pictures, in case it is unclear in the video.

And, remember, this is how I do it. Technically, you don't even need to devein your shrimp. You can eat the whole damn thing—head, shell, guts and all—if you want. I don't want to, so the following video shows how I choose to prepare my shrimp, fresh (not frozen) and beheaded by the local fishmonger.

To begin with, you first must PEEL the shrimp (unless you are having guests peel their own at the table during a casual dinner). I generally do this by pinching the legs between my thumb and the side of my pointer finger and tugging them sideways. This usually loosens the shell, too. Then I peel off the shell surrounding the shrimp and gently tug off the tail casing. You CAN leave the tail on if you prefer a kind of "handle" on your shrimp if it's acting as a finger food.

After your shrimp are peeled, it's time to devein. When you buy shrimp, the entire head and guts portion are already cut off and discarded—except for the intestine. "Deveining" means that you are removing the intestine that runs down the back of the shrimp. You do NOT need to do anything to the dark line running along its belly: it's just a nerve. See the shrimp diagram below for clarification (thank you, shrimp-culture.blogspot.com):

Yes, you can buy deveined shrimp at the store, but this usually means the shrimp are handled by a machine which leaves a huge slice down their backs. They are typically then frozen into an unsightly mass of flayed, frost-bitten flesh. Such shrimp still taste and look just as frost-bitten and unsightly after they are prepared, and being a cook that likes to make my food not just attractive to the tongue but also to the eyes, I have learned to buy fresh shrimp and peel and devein them myself. Does it take extra time? Yes. But I'm not making shrimp every day, so I'm willing to put in the extra work when I need to. The sweet tenderness of un-frozen, un-molested shrimp is definitely worth it.

To devein, you will need a paring knife and a colander. I usually do this activity over a sink with running water to rinse the shrimp or knife as needed. You will be inserting the blade of your paring knife BLADE UP into the shrimp.

The intestine USUALLY shows as a dark "dot" in the neck of the shrimp. This is the start of the intestine. What makes it dark is the poop.

Just below and beside this dot is where you are going to insert the tip of the knife.

Only insert about 1/4-inch of the knife tip and slice up. With a little bit of fishing with the knife tip, you should reveal a section of the intestine. Using your thumb and fingertip, grasp the end of the intestine and pull firmly but gently. If you yank, you will snap the intestine and have to slice further down the back to reach the rest of it.

Let me show you with a video. It's not professional, but it will at least give you an idea of what I'm doing.

If you are even more confused than ever after watching the video, please feel free to ask me a question in the comments section below. I will do what I can to help. Or you can send us a picture of your beautiful, poop-free shrimp! Yippeeeeeee!

And check out the other videos in CAF's "How the Hell do I...?" video series. You can subscribe to our channel at https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCTnyS-M2IZ5uWvkwLI8dhxQ.

Use Them While They're Hot!: Learning to Grill Ahead

Last night I sat outside at the dinner table, noshing with utter abandon on this glorious baba ghanoush made straight from the grill (thank you once again, Melissa Joulwan!), when I had an epiphany:

It's summer, it's hot, and cooking outside on the grill is really the way to go. Food magically tastes twice as good cooked over smoky charcoal. But I have to be fair to Grillmaster Reiton. Standing over 600° coals in 90° weather night after night probably isn't as much fun as sitting on the deck with a chilled glass of rosé in hand (which is what I do). Sooooo (here comes the epiphany)...

Why not grill several meals' worth of stuff all at once? Use those coals once for a week of food?

It's kind-of like that cooking fad that my mom and aunt got into about ten years ago, where you would do this huge shop and cook like a mad woman for an entire day to make meals that would last you a month.

Except I love to cook. And I love to eat fresh. And, call me impractical or inefficient or what-have-you, I don't really freeze a lot of food. Maybe I'm doing it wrong, but I find that the freezer changes the texture of foods in ways that I don't like, so instead I tend to grocery shop for the week.

So if I shop for the week, why not grill for the week?

For example, my dinner menus for this week call for a number of things that I could have grilled last night and then reheated or eaten cold. Here's a snapshot of my notes for dinner this week:

(Yes, I had a dinner party Sunday!)

A more efficient grill could look something like this: before Grillmaster Reiton grilled our chicken and eggplant for last night's dinner, we could have grilled the ribs (later reheated at low heat in a foil packet in the oven), the butternut (finished cooking the mash in the oven), the steak (grilled slightly underdone and reheated it in a cast iron skillet) and the burgers (also slightly underdone and finished in a skillet).

Then Chef Reiton could also be sitting with a chilled glass of rosé, eating this silky, smoky dip with crisp, cool veggies as an appetizer, now that a decent chunk of time was added back to our summer evenings.  

I think I'll give this a go and see what we think, then I'll get back to you to let you know if it's successful.

I hope it is. I mean, really, I'd rather not be drinking alone...

A Foodie's Obsession: Webstaurantstore.com

I have a confession to make. My kitchen and I have a new addiction in our life, and it is called...

Webstaurantstore.com.

The name is cheesy, I know, but this site has become my go-to for all things kitchen-y. It's a restaurant supply store, and it has EVERYTHING for amazing prices.

Check out the mongo, commercial-grade, I'll-grind-anything-you-feed-me blender I just got for $199!

Look at the size of the motor:

For a third of the cost of a Vitamix, I got more horsepower, all-metal gears, a larger motor AND an extra polycarbonate canister.

Note the super simple, no-frills control panel. No more wondering what exactly it means to "frappe" and if I should have done that instead of "grind..."

And as for how well she works? She blitzed my marinade made of whole (fat!) garlic cloves, ginger root, soaked dried chiles and yogurt into a gorgeous mess in seconds.

If you decide to go buy this exact blender,  you will also get FREE SHIPPING. Am I serious? Yes, sir, I am. Normally you have to pay a fairly hefty shipping charge as a residential customer (which is why I usually make a list and order a bunch of stuff I need at once or split an order with a friend), but with certain items like this, the shipping is free. Wooot!

A few notes that may be of interest or concern regarding the Avamix:

• This is a commercial blender. There are no safety latches/mechanisms/features. The canister drops onto the base, you flip the switch, and it goes. So if you have curious little kids running around your kitchen, you might want to be especially careful or save this purchase for another decade. If you want to reenact the scene from Goonies and scare little kids with a running blender, you will be able to do so with this blender.
• The measurements on the canister are metric. There are no standard measurements.
• This thing is BIG. You will not be able to leave it on your kitchen counter. If you can because your kitchen is that big, I hate you.
• This baby is heavy. If your arm strength is somewhat lacking, either don't buy this baby or DO and use it to do some bench-presses in the kitchen. I won't ask questions, I promise.

Another side note that may be of interest and get you to shop at my fantasy store: if you write a review or submit a photo or a video of a product after you receive it, Webstaurantstore.com will give you WEBbucks to use on a future purchase. And I'm talking $2 for a written review, $4 for a photo and $10 for a video! Serious! It's a really generous perk, and I've gotten quite a bit of free stuff because of it.

SO. If you haven't discovered it already for yourself, go visit Webstaurantstore.com. Now go make your list of kitchen things you need (bulk spices? cast iron skillet? pizza peel? silverware? mongo blender? bamboo cocktail picks? kitchen towels?) and get ready to save some serious money on your kitchen needs!

P.S. If you want the recipe for the marinade in the picture, you will find it in Bon Appetit's June 2017 edition under chile-and-yogurt marinated chicken. 

Yvonne's — Boston, MA — A Restaurant Recommendation

Yvonne,

I know we've only just recently started getting to know each other, but I feel that there is something I need to say: 

We've spent the evening together, what? Three times now? And every time you've been just spectacular. No matter what the evening brings, you always make me feel special. I can't help but leave you with a smile on my face. 

But this last time was different. Why? Because it was the night you truly stole my heart. It wasn't your dark, glittering beauty or your cheeky coquettishness or even your voluptuous menu. Although the baked oysters were divine, the bavette steak mouth-wateringly tender, and the Enchanted Catnip a fiery sight to behold—you had me completely when I overheard your server say to another guest, "I'm sorry; we don't have flavored vodkas. But we do have plain vodka that we flavor with our own housemade syrups."

My dear girl. You are the one.

With all my heart,

Rachael

P.S. You made it into the CAF recommended restaurant travel guide for Boston!