The Cheese More People Choose

A recent business trip took me to a small town in Wisconsin this past weekend. When I think of Wisconsin, two things come to mind: 1. It’s cold there this time of year. And 2. Supposedly they make good cheese.

Both were true. We landed in a Madison to a winter wonderland of snow and cold. Also, there were signs and stores boasting delicious cheeses everywhere. Everywhere.

But after two days of meetings and seminars, it seemed time escaped us much too quickly. There was simply no time to explore the wintry environs of the Wisconsin Dells and take in the local culture and food (save for all the meat you can eat there).

But our sadness at a lost opportuity faded when we saw an enormous billboard on the way back to the airport boasting great Wisconsin cheese and sausages. We exited at the required location and pulled up to Ehlenbach's Cheese Chalet, a purveyor of local food and the requisite Wisconsin gifts (think overpriced plastic cheeseheads and sausages shaped and packaged like bottles of Milwaukee’s Best). The best thing about this chalet, which bears the appearance of a Bavarian shack, was that it welcomes visitors with an enormous fiberglass dairy cow outside the shop. We like that kind of stuff.

From experience, I’ve learned these types of places usually have great homegrown goods in addition to whatever their signature item is. In this case, many varieties of homemade jams were on sale, as well as some Door County (known for its cherries) favorites, such as cherry salsa, which is made with the county's best sour and sweet cherries, onions, peppers, and other savories. I picked up a small jar of spicy pickled garlic, also a product of Door County. Whole cloves of garlic are married with jalapenos, red peppers, and vinegar. I was told this should be eaten straight, but I hope to find some way to work it into a salad dressing or a pasta dish.

On to the cheese: The variety was almost too much to handle. You know how deciding on one or two things from a Chinese restaurant menu can be completely daunting? I had the same problem here. There were so much to choose from. You had the basic cheeses—cheddar, havarti, aged homegrown varieties. Then there were fruity and chocolate cheeses, and others with various flavores and added elements. I wanted to go for something simple so I could truly enjoy the creaminess and flavor of the cheese. I went for a half pound of the Wisconsin havarti. Adjacent to the cheese counter was an ample selection of cured meats, and in this case it was their award-winning peppery hard salami that caught my eye. I got a half pound.

AC’s facial expression alone told me I had made the right choices. The sausage was indeed hard, but peppery and chewy. And the cheese was unbelievably fresh and creamy. Though havarti is a mild cheese, it had enough flavor and punch to marry nicely with the spicy sausage.

If you’re in the Madison, Wisc. area, check out Ehlenbach’s at:

4879 County Road V
Junction V & I-90-94 (Exit 126)
DeForest, WI 53532
(608) 846-4791

Or order it online at:
www.ehlenbachscheese.com

—AKC

Notes from Chicago: Healthy Food Lithuanian

As our weekend in Chicago drew near, I figured that we would have just enough time to hit each of the three archetypal Chicago foods: Italian Beef, Chicago-style hot dogs, and deep dish pizza. While we’re normally all about experiencing obscure ethnic delights, I was determined not to deviate from our tour of Chicago’s great contributions to culinary Americana. But then I happened upon a reference to Healthy Food, a Lithuanian restaurant that was decidedly not very healthy at all.

At first, I thought it was skippable. After all, I had lived for many years near Veselka in NYC, had certainly had my fill of starchy Eastern European grub, and figured that Lithuanian food would only be marginally different, and, therefore, hardly worth the extra schlep (this joint would end up requiring us to endure a lengthy combination of Elevated and bus).

After poking around Google for some extral intel on this place, I happened upon their exceedingly charming (if barebones) website. True, I found their menu intriguing, particularly the references to kugelis, but if you ever need a portal into my personal insanity, then note that the following paragraph from their website turned out to be the decisive factor for me:

Be sure to see Gina's collection of Amber, displayed in the showcase by the cashier. She will be glad to show you her favorite pieces. All pieces displayed are for sale. We have miscellaneous small antiques available too. Be sure to look around when you are dining, because you never know what you may find! Your Host--Gina

That’s right. I was ultimately swayed by the amber collection next to the cash register. If you don’t make time to check out the website, it’s important to note that the text is accompanied by a photo of Gina marveling over the glories of her favorite pieces.

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Healthy Food is situated in a dusty blue collar neighborhood sprinkled with repair shops, diners, and dive bars. There’s a taqueria and panaderia (Mexican bakery) across the street, so if you aren’t disgusted by the mere thought of food after your Lithuanian feast, then the panaderia may be worth checking out.

The restaurant itself is very much the wood-paneled time capsule (“authentic ‘50s style”) that it proclaims itself on the website. They have some capital wall hangings, showcasing their Lithuanian heritage. And yes, this icon of the Virgin Mary has been rendered with tiny bits of amber.

We started off with a cup of their Lithuanian yoghurt, homemade, rather tart, but refreshing. They offer their yoghurt in a smoothie, as well, but I figured (perhaps wrongly) that this was some sort of well-meaning concession to recent food trends. This was accompanied by a tall glass of fresh and frothy carrot juice. They also offer fresh vegetable juice, but I was imagining the horrors of a cabbage juice induced coma and overruled it.

Their borscht was easily the highlight of the meal. It was a vivid shade of pinkish purple, undoubtedly the result of blending sour cream and beets, and flecked with green bits of dill. In fact, the borscht was more a showcase for the dill than it was for the sweet and starchy beets. Healthy Food had a true stroke of genius when it came to its tweaking of the traditional borscht format: a side plate of boiled potatoes accompanied the soup so that we could determine the proper ratio of soup to potato.

Thus ends the comparatively healthy portion of our meal.

The entrees were enormous.

We had their blynai, which were mildly sweet, crepe-like, blanket-sized pancakes, ladled with a blueberry compote, and folded over dried cottage cheese curds. I figured that the fruit and cheese option was the way to go with their blynai even though it turns out that they would have been better on their own, accompanied by just a dusting of powdered sugar. I had been expecting a sweet farmer’s cheese, but the dried curds were truly a surprise. They were basically little ball bearings of cheese, dry in the sense that they weren’t melted at all, and mild in flavor. I’m not sure that they really add anything beyond texture and nutrition.

Of course, we had to try kugelis, which is supposedly the national food of Lithuania. Typically, we opted for a gutbusting platter featuring a slab of kugelis, accompanied by an enormous homemade Lithuanian sausage, and a side of sauerkraut. The sausage had a nice snappy casing, but was a bit mild for my taste, almost like a slightly heavier version of weisswurst. And the kugelis is the sort of comfort food that you probably have to have grown up on to appreciate. It’s a dense and creamy slice of potato casserole studded with smoky bits of bacon. Even when paired with sour cream and apple sauce, it’s a bit too intense for me.

We inquired about their “bacon buns”, but were told that they had already run through their supply for the weekend. It turns out that “bacon buns” are basically dinner rolls stuffed with bits of bacon. Sounds enticing, but after all that kugelis and sausage our guts were considerably busted, so it was just as well that bacon buns weren’t on offer.

Though Gina tempted us with an apple pie that was fresh from the oven, we were at capacity.

And in case you were wondering, I did, of course, take a moment to check out the amber collection before we rolled on out of there.

Check out Healthy Food Lithuanian Restaurant:
3236 S. Halsted St.
Chicago, IL
(312) 326-2724

-AC

Notes from Chicago: Wedding Food

A couple weekends ago, we attended a lavish wedding at The Four Seasons in Chicago. At a place like The Four Seasons, it's incumbent upon the party-giver to go all out and make the most of the location, and so the decorations, entertainment, and all the little details were first class, but the food took center stage (okay, the bride and groom did, but this is a food blog, okay?).

First of all, we love it when people theme the party food. In this case, everything was Chicago or Italian themed, even down to the hotel gift-baskets. When we arrived, an overflowing bag filled with Chicago treats, such as Mazel Toffee, Affy Tapples, and Wrigley's gum awaited us. AC was particularly freaking out over the caramel apples, as he told me before we left the airport that "I must have an Affy Tapple before we leave." Thank you, TA, for helping to fulfill a dream.

After a lovely nondenominational ceremony, guests filed into the foyer set up for cocktails and appetizers. But let's be honest here, these were not appetizers, these were Italian mini-meals. Three types of fresh handmade pastas (lobster ravioli, butternut squash ravioli, ricotta-stuffed gnocchi) were being served to salivating guests, many of whom returned for repeat visits (I'm looking in your direction RC, CC, etc.). Another station offered thin-crust pizza, the best of which was the carmelized onion and goat cheese pizza.

Unrelated to anything Italian was the unusual addition of a pretzel bar where the staff were slinging warm salted and unsalted pretzels with a choice of four different types of mustard. AC is a serious mustard enthusiast, so I was pleased to see him rushing over with a plate garnished with a dollop of all four.

Even after all of this consumption, it took every ounce of restraint I could muster to not continue sending AC back for more of everything. But we were sure that the dinner would be just as outstanding. Luckily, more surprises. Dinner featured an enormous chicken breast dredged in an herbed bread-crumb mixture, accompanied by sauteed seasonal vegetables and dauphinoise potatoes. It was a meal fit for two people (which is perfectly fine, because we each usually eat for two...each), and that's to say nothing of the ample bread display. The flatbread, pretzel bread, and mini-baguettes were delicious, and we made quick work of the flower-shaped pat of butter.

Most weddings feature a cake—this one was a two-in-one. Each slice featured moist chocolate layer cake on the top and banana layer cake on the bottom. Also placed on each table was a tiered tray of homemade Italian cookies, our favorite of which was the pignoli cookie—the perfect companion to the extra-strong cappuccino we ordered from the espresso bar.

At the end of the night, we were certain we had consumed our weight in food and beverage. And for that, we thank the As.

—AK

Crafty Carving

It would just be downright wrong to not partake of the national dish while in China. So, even though I'd already had one of the famed lazy susan meals that day, I insisted that JX take me for the real-deal Peking duck experience.

There was no question where we were going, as far as JX was concerned: Quan Ju De, a famous Peking duck chain restaurant based in Beijing.

It's very possible that there were other items on the menu other than the roast duck dish, but I honestly can't recall A. what they might have been or B. what we even had for an appetizer (it was probably something tofu-related, as many of our dishes were that week). Why we even ordered an appetizer is beyond me, as you'll soon understand how extraneous it was.

Still, any other menu items would be sadly reduced to a footnote at a place like this. Once we were seated, it was hard to avert my gaze from the parade of duck chefs (?) coming out of the kitchen one by one. Tall, quiet gentleman pushed their respective carts holding bronze, shiny whole ducks to salivating diners. While we waited, a server brought over the accoutrements
that are essential to experiencing Peking duck—a dish of hoisin sauce,
a dish of julienned scallions, and a plate of rice flour pancakes.Once our chef arrived at our table, he silently and effortlessly began to carve.

First, he lopped off several pieces of skin and fat (only a tiny bit of meat was attached). These pieces were meant as appetizers, only to be dipped in the hoisin sauce and not to be wrapped in the pancakes or garnished with onion, as is customary with the meat. At first, it seemed bizarre to just eat pieces of crispy skin and fat, but then I came to my senses—what could be better than eating straight crispy skin and fat!? And so we did. The pieces gave a little crunch as the fat and small amount of meat melted away in my mouth. While it's not exactly the kind of thing a person should eat on a regular basis, it is one of those dining experiences that stays with you for a long time (in this case, two years).

After we ate our fair share of fat pieces, it was time for the meat. But we did not eat without first getting quite a show. The carver, with the most delicate sleight of hand ever executed, took on each quadrant of the duck with total perfection. Perhaps it's all muscle memory to this guys by now, but it was sure impressive from where I was sitting. The meat was pink, juicy and tender, and each piece had a panel of that fantastic skin attached.

If you're lucky enough to be in Shanghai, visit Quan Ju De at:

4F, 786 Huaihai Zhonglu
Shanghai, China
+ 021-5404-5799

—AK

Lazy Susan Roulette

I knew long before I even left for Asia that great food was in my future when our Chinese guide and translator, JX, emailed me to ask, “Do you like roast ducks?” The answer, of course, was “yes.” And for the next three weeks, I couldn’t wait to board the plane.

The highlight of the 2004 trip (for work) was the three days I spent in Shanghai with my mom, DV, and JX. JX, I learned not only had an appetite to match mine, but also the same bizarre interest in new, interesting foods. Of course, we were on his turf, so I was getting to truly experience the new and interesting, while he happily showed us the ropes.

I decided right off the bat that I didn’t care what came across my plate—I was going to try it...at least twice. Luckily I didn’t have to read a menu or worry about what type of cuisine to have, as all of our meals were either orchestrated by our hosts or planned by JX. So they led, and I followed.

The meals with our hosts were outrageous. Both meals involved roughly eight to 10 Chinese men, JX, myself and my mother. JX tried to keep up with everyone so as to give us a Cliff’s Notes version of what people were talking about, all while trying to eat. Meanwhile, food was being brought out in various stages. Bowl after bowl and platter after platter of food would be placed on an enormous lazy susan, so as too ease sharing between so many people. The dishes were enormous and plentiful; I believe fresh dishes were coming out for the duration of the meal (about three hours). Our hosts in both instances were pleased that we were eating so heartily (myself more than my mom) and even encouraged me to keep eating, even when I was clearly at capacity and ready to prostrate myself in my hotel room. More, more, more.

More of what, you ask? Herewith I include a list of every item placed on the lazy susan (as taken from my notes) at both meals:

Meal No. 1
-goose liver
-crunchy, marinated sheets of squid
-shredded tofu
-sweet and sour pork
-barbecued park
-sauteed greenleaf
-deep-fried crepe with sesame pork
-cold tofu slices
-a dish of mushy small shrimp in soy sauce
-Peking duck
-tofu in coconut broth
-pork spring rolls
-cole slaw (the vinegary kind)

Meal No. 2
-more sheets of squid
-green vegetable with squid
-fish in a sizzling hot pot
-barbecued duck
-tofu in broth
-soup of bamboo stalks and pork
-small shrimps (heads still on)
-some kind of strange yellow vegetable
-fish pieces
-dumplings with more green vegetable
-beef in lettuce
-and yet even more green vegetable
-watermelon
-chicken soup

Stay tuned for more on this trip in future posts.

—AK

All in the Details

We apologize for the long delay, as AC and I have been struggling to get back into the habit of regularly posting after our recent wedding and lavish honeymoon at the Greenbrier resort in White Sulphur Springs, West Virginia.

We have many things to write about, as we have resumed our culinary adventures since then. But first, I want to share with you some special details from our time away from the real world.

Ostensibly, we chose the Greenbrier so that we might enjoy just a slice of what the landed gentry types get to soak up on a regular basis. What we got was much more than that.

Certainly, the activities (falconry, sporting clay shooting, and a sulfur soak in the spa), the outstanding meals, and the unparalleled politeness of the staff (every single staff member asked us how we were—every single one), put us square in the midst of the high life. But it was the little extras in the main dining room that took the whole experience to a level of greatness we have never experienced.

The crudité: Before placing our orders, we were brought a simple porcelain dish with some celery, cauliflower, endive, and carrot, accompanied by a ramekin of ranch dressing. Contrasted with the hickory smoked pork tenderloin, fancy steaks, seared fish, and foie gras we enjoyed night after night, it almost seems silly to serve such a bare bones appetizer. But in fact, the fresh veggies and dip were a welcome entrée into a rich two-hour dinner, and the offering conveyed the very traditions and hospitality for which we traveled four hours to enjoy.

The iced tea: There was nothing outrageous about the iced tea at the Greenbrier. It wasn’t infused with herbs, or sweetened, just garnished with a big wedge of lemon. At times, the iced tea, which we've seen referred to elsewhere as the "table wine of the south," seemed like the only soft drink on offer. Even at the daily 4 p.m. teatime, it seemed that people were enjoying just as much of the iced variety as they were the milk and sugar version. We got to the point that after lunch at Draper’s Café, the in-hotel luncheonette, we would get our refill of the tea, settle our bill, then take our teas up to our room to enjoy them while we decompressed in front of the television. And at dinner, it was a refreshing counterpoint to the pinot we gulped down each night.

The saucer and doily: Whether it was the iced tea, the freshly squeezed juices, or even ice water, it came in a tall glass on a saucer with a doily. Even water! We loved this special touch because, to us, it feels like the best water/juice/tea on the face of the planet was brought to us. No other glass of sweet, delicious nectar compares to this one right here, and because we are such special guests, we shall enjoy the best of everything at the Greenbrier. Reality check: The lovely doily/saucer combo prevented water rings on the tablecloths.

The finger bowl: With the bill after each breakfast and dinner service, we were brought a small silver bowl, lined with a thin filter emblazoned with the Greenbrier logo, and filled with warm lemon-scented water. The first time I was bestowed with the dainty thing, AC and I had NO idea what to do with it. AC suggested it was for “washing our hands,” so I did. I scooped some warm water into one hand (hard to do with such a small bowl), and rubbed my hands together as if they were under a faucet. I felt like a complete dolt doing this, but someone had taken the trouble to offer the bowl to me, so I was going to use it in whatever way seemed most prudent. At breakfast the following day, I took the liberty of asking how to properly use it. Our waitress said, “just dip your fingertips in it” in a delightful drawl. Luckily, we found out that we were not alone in our confusion. The waitress shared with us a story from the previous evening wherein a young girl thought it was consommé, and was ready to start slurping away at this seemingly superfluous "soup course".

Melba toasts: Thanks to the Greenbrier, I acquired an addiction to Melba toasts, those small, thin toasts used mainly for hors d’oeuvres. During dinner and lunch, a staffer walks around with a big breadbasket ready to take diners’ requests (soda bread and cornbread were also available). This takes place throughout dinner, so many, many pieces of bread can be had. I went for the Melbas because I figured they were a bit lighter than other breads; I wanted to save room for the ample entrees, salads, and appetizers. But the problem is this: I got like five or six of them each time. I would take the real butter (fashioned in the shape of the Greenbrier logo), smear it all over these little things, and munch away. Things only get worse when the breadmaster comes around again. I think, “Well, I’m getting the foie gras, and they only give you a couple of brioches, so I’ll need more toasts.” And then more toasts, and more. We’re talking toasted bread and pure butter, and a lot of it. And the foie gras is still being prepared! I would like to tell you all that there was a point at which I stopped eating the Melba toasts. But I can’t. The good news is I’ve been off Melbas for over a month, and I’m doing fine.

—AK

Land of Enchanting Pancakes

Editor's Note: Every once in a while, we will feature a guest columnist who has such a noteworthy food experience, that we must force them to lend the experience to Suburban Tasteland. In this first case, it is my mother, DV, who recently traveled to New Mexico and had the best pancakes ever. She shared the following account of her experience via email:

As you know very well, breakfast is just not my favorite meal. It simply is too much work and too early in the morning. I would rather have an additional 50 winks and pick up a venti chai at Starbucks. But, I have come across something that is actually worth hauling out of the sack for. Of course in your case, it happens to be a rather long haul, since this restaurant is in Pecos, New Mexico, which is not far from Santa Fe. What they do with pancakes, which I don’t actually like a lot anyway, is simply amazing. These babies come off the grill about 1½ to 1¾ inches high. These cakes would put Aunt Jemima into a jealous rage. The best part is that you can order them with blueberries or pinon (pine nuts). I opted for both with a tub of butter and real maple syrup. These fluffy little devils, of course, are not standalone items. They come with the usual brace of eggs and the obligatory strips of bacon.

While I did not try the eggs rancheros, I am told they are wonderful. And of course, when you order, you are posed the question of the ages—“red or green?” This only refers to the color of chili sauce you want with the eggs. The waitress assured me that there was no material difference except color, but people seem to have rather strong preferences anyway. Breakfast is served with tortillas, not toast.

The venue in Pecos is a place called Frankie's Casanova. The restaurant is housed in an old trading post built in the 1920s and is very well preserved. By the way, the desserts (a far better notion than breakfast in my estimation) looked remarkable. These delights were on a small table and for some reason looked like they had been brought in for a church social. No calories were spared here.

The bar is named for the owner’s brother, who owned the bar down the dusty highway. The bar has been shuttered since Frankie was shot and killed in a gunfight in the bar. His brother thought that the new restaurant was a fitting tribute. As you can tell, the Wild West lives on. Try ’em if you ever get anywhere near Pecos.

Visit Frankie's Casanova at:

Corner Hwy 50 and Hwy 63
Pecos, NM
(505) 757-3322

—DV