By Kevin Finch on January 31, 2010
I’ve been home for two days in bed with a vicious cold and cough, and during my infrequent trips to the kitchen for something to eat (and one trip to the store) I realized that I was looking mainly for comfort. Not health. Comfort. I’ve tried the Special-Ops-combat-that-cold-with-fibervegefruitoxidans and it seems to have no discernible effect on the length of the cold. So now it’s comfort, baby, all the way.
Stress kicks up a craving for Frosted Strawberry Pop Tarts. Comfort, though, requires more salt than sweet in my case. Grape Nuts will do in a pinch or milk and toast with a big pat of butter, but today it was Nacho Cheese Doritos with more cheese melted on top. I loved Nacho Cheese Doritos as a kid, and once ate an entire bag by myself when I was supposed to be practicing my saxophone.
Yet it wasn’t until high school that I witnessed Todd Kotila do the unthinkable. He buried a plate of Nacho Cheese Doritos in a mound of grated cheddar and popped the resulting orange and yellow mass into the microwave. I was stunned. Real cheese on top of fake cheese? It seemed wrong somehow: a Frankenfood perversion.
Todd just laughed and shoved the molten pile in front of me. “Try it, Finch.”
It still feels wrong, but on those guilty occasions when Doritos find their way into our typically self-righteous shopping cart, a portion of the chips disappear under Cheddar, Colby, or Colby Jack. Today was one of those days. There was a pre-Superbowl sale on chips, Tillamook at a discount, and my resistance to the unnatural lowered by a raging virus.
Then there needs to be a glass of milk to wash it down. Milk that must… comfort dictates… be drunk from a small glass.
Posted in cooking, culture, dining, play | Tagged cold, comfort food, Doritos, Frosted Strawberry Pop Tarts, Grape Nuts, milk, Nacho Cheese Doritos, Tillamook cheese, Todd Kotila |
By Kevin Finch on January 30, 2010
Last week I followed up on a tip from Josie Urbick about a Seattle taco truck with a unique item on the menu: a Mexican hot dog ($4.50). She described it as an almost unthinkable gut bomb that had to be eaten to be believed.
At 9 pm last Thursday I decided it was time.
I found Flair Taco on just off the main drag between Fremont and Ballard (North 36th Street that turns into Leary Way). The beat-up truck sits in a parking lot at the corner of North 36th and Phinney Avenue North. When I arrived, 0wner Angel Aguilar was unloading food for Flair’s Friday and Saturday bar close rush.
“The cops stand right over there on the corner,” he said, “and when guys come out of the bars they have a decision to make: try to drive or come eat tacos. Most choose tacos. This parking lot will be packed tomorrow night.”
I had already ordered my Mexi dog, and asked about the story behind it. I make it a point to eat at nearly every taco truck I drive by and never had seen a hot dog on another menu.
“These are how everyone eats hot dogs in Mexico,” Aguilar said. “I grew up eating them just like this. Then I came to the states and saw a hot dog on a menu. I ordered it only to be stunned. This wasn’t a hot dog. It had nothing on it! Finally I saw the relish off to the side and thought at least they had jalapenos. But when I took a bite, I said ‘What the hell is this?’”
Long story short, when he opened Flair Taco with Johnny Flair, Aguilar added to the menu a hot dog the way Cardiac Arrest intended it.
I doubt I’ll eat another dog again without thinking about Aguilar’s Mexi version. I’ll also be back with friends. Sure it is a gut bomb, but some gut bombs are worth it once in a while.
I’m also making a note to bring my passport because Flair has another unique item on the menu called the Passport Meal ($9.00). It is whatever Aguilar decides it is when someone orders it, but he categorically refuses to sell you one without seeing your passport. His iPhone has picutres of everyone who orders the meal and comes with proper documentation.
Posted in dining, play, travel | Tagged Fremont, Mexican food, mobile restaurants, Northwest restaurants, Seattle restaurants, taco trucks, Washington restaurants |
By Kevin Finch on January 14, 2010
I’m in love. Mocha love.
This comes from a guy who only orders coffee if it might go well with what I plan to eat. It is a good thing I don’t live anywhere near Redmond WA or my wife might look at our VISA bill and begin to ask questions.
“What are all these charges at Kitanda Brazilian Bakery and Espresso?”
“Uh…”
“This isn’t like you. Are you meeting someone?”
“Well… um…”
“What is it? Tell me! There are 100s of dollars of unexplained charges here.”
“I’m too embarrassed. I didn’t think it would go this far.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m in love… but wait… before you do anything rash. It is only coffee. Nothing more. Delicious, beautiful Brazilian coffee, but that’s all.”
Counseling would probably be required. Things would be rough for a while. We’d make it. I’d probably be drinking green tea again within a few months, but there would be times I would break down and cry.
Yet since I live in Spokane I hope to never need to have the imagined conversation above. Our VISA bill won’t reflect daily charges at Kitanda and I won’t need to invent excuses to drive to Redmond day after day. But you can be sure I’ll be back when I’m in the Seattle area and I suggest you do the same.
One sip and you just might be in love too.
Posted in dining, drinks, play, travel | Tagged Brazilian mocha, coffee, good coffee, Kitanda Brazilian Bakery and Espresso, love, mocha, Northwest restaurants, Redmond WA, Washington restaurants |
By Kevin Finch on January 13, 2010
I claim that Spokane’s Donut Parade has the best maple bars in the Western Hemisphere (possibly the planet since large swaths of the world have no access to this pinnacle of raised donut perfect). Yet food gurus Jane and Michael Stern have a different opinion in their fun volume entitled 500 Things To Eat Before It’s Too Late.
They claim the best maple bar they’ve had is at Voodoo Doughnuts in Portland where the iconic bar comes topped with strips of bacon. I’m looking forward to trying a Voodoo bar, but believe a truly classic maple bar needs to stand on its own without a pork assist.
This leads me to their second recommendation: Countryside Donut House in Mountlake Terrace in the Seattle metro area.
Chance would have it that I’m in Seattle today for a family emergency, but I have a break this morning in my duties long enough to head to Countryside. Who knows? Maybe a fine maple bar delivered at the right moment could help in the family emergency. I’m willing to try. And I’ll get a chance to see how the bars at Countryside compare to Donut Parade.
Posted in culture, dining, play, travel | Tagged 500 things to eat before it is too late, Countryside Donut House, donut, Donut Parade, donuts, Jane and Michael Stern, Jane Stern, maple bar, marple bars, Michael Stern, Northwest restaurants, Portland, Seattle, Spokane, Voodoo Donuts |
By Kevin Finch on January 3, 2010
One of the best moments of my East Bay eating tour last week was the first bite of the Zachary’s “pride and joy.”
That would be the Spinanch and Mushroom pie that you can’t even order thin. It is deep dish or nothing.
Up to that moment, the only Bay Area pizza worth a drive was the New York style pies served up with a bit of borough attitude at A Slice of New York in San Jose. But Zachary’s Chicago Pizza is a real contender.
New York pies and Chicago pies really are only distantly-related culinary cousins. Comparing them is essentially impossible. You find your favorite NY pie and compare other thin crust pizzas against that standard. The same is true for Chicago deep dish pies. I have a vivid taste memory of my first real Chicago pie. On a tip from a friend I left the Interstate and drove into downtown Chicago in September of 1990 and ordered a sausage pizza at Gino’s East. It was a revelation.
Zachary’s Spinanch and Mushroom pie didn’t recreate the Gino’s sweet crust, but it is a remarkable pie in its own right and one I’ll be back to eat again as soon as I can find another excuse to fly or drive to Berkeley or Oakland. If you beat me, expect a wait and enjoy the art while you do.
The text on The Forbidden Pizza poster:
The Forbidden Pizza
In Gargantuan Portions
Staring Psycho – Mad Max – Bleu Velvet
Spinanch Mushrooms – Cheese
Directed to your Alien Jaws
Produced by Zachary’s
Posted in culture, dining, travel | Tagged A Slice of New York, Berkeley, deep dish pizza, East Bay, mushrooms, Oakland, pop culture, spinach, thin crust pizza, Zachary's, Zachary's Chicago Pizza |
By Kevin Finch on January 2, 2010
I’ve always had vivid dreams full of shoot-outs, chases, and sinister characters. Along the way, I taught myself to fly, and I can usually wake-up just before Frankenstein or one of his cronies takes my head off or hit the ground when I fall off the top of the Space Needle. My first novel (still in progress) developed from a dream.
In junior high I even experimented with what foods eaten just before bed would produce the most vivid dreams. Peanut butter and dill pickles on Standish Farms Honey Wheat was most effective. Yet food itself typically was just a backdrop in the dreams.
Last night was an exception. In a dream last night two students finishing up advanced degrees in architecture who were harrassing a friend of mine described to me a dish that had an experimental cuisine spin… something along the lines of what you might find on your plate at Greg Achatz’s Alinea in Chicago.
True to form, in the dream, the title of the dish was bizarre: they called the dish a “Baby Wedgy.” But I woke up wondering if the dish itself might have some potential. It featured a smooth puree of fresh green beans about the consistency of baby food served hot with a dollop of unsweetened whipped cream on top. Mulling it over this morning, I wondered about the possibilities of savory whipped creams added to dishes like vegetables with hints of herbs or spices incorporated to add complexity.
What do you think? Is it a culinary nightmare (possibly the after effects of a visit to Psycho Donuts) or is it worth a try? Or have you ever come across a savory whipped cream? I’d also be curious if you can remember any vivid food dreams yourself? If not, let me suggest peanut butter and pickles.
Posted in cooking, play | Tagged Alinea, Chicago, dill pickles, dreaming, dreams, experimental cuisine, food dreams, Greg Achatz, peanut butter, pickles, savory whipped cream, Standish Farms Honey Wheat |
By Kevin Finch on January 1, 2010
The second to last day of 2009 started with an early morning visit to Psycho Donuts for the Cereal Killer and my first ever “hamburger donut.”
Psycho opened in 2009 to community protest and picketers on the sidewalk of their tiny strip mall at the corner of Winchester and Campbell in California’s South Bay Area. It could have been the name. Or offense at a case of donuts with names like Jekyll & Hyde, Headbanger’s Evil Twin, and Psycho Panda. Maybe the protesters don’t like fried food.
I’m guessing, though,that the protests just helped business, and I would humbly suggest that there might be more urgent targets for protest than a donut shop with a slightly deranged theme. Psycho Donuts staff wear nursing outfits reminiscent of Halloween, and they have an actual padded room inside the door (okay, it is more like a three-sided padded phone booth designed for photo opportunities).
Just for the title we had to try the Cereal Killer with its cargo of Cap’n Crunchberries on top.
The title is better than the donut truthfully. But just the opposite should be said for the Apricotology. It has my vote for the worst name on a menu with some other doozies, but the donut itself is brilliant. I’ll never eat another apple fritter again without wishing it was a Psycho Donut apricot monstrosity.
Yet there is another great reason to go out of your way to visit Psycho and cross the picket lines (if they happen to reappear). It is the Hamburger Donut. For the sheer cheek of saying you ate one, it is worth $2.50.
But the truth is that this donut actually works: a donut sprinkled with sesame seeds is sliced in half and slathered inside with honey butter and strawberry jam before several sliced of bacon are slipped inside. It is not what your taste buds expect of a donut, but by bite two or three, you just might have an epiphany and begin to ask why donuts are typically sugar bombs rather than pastries that combine sweet and savory in creative ways.
Or you can dismiss me as ‘nuts.’ You won’t be the first or the last.
Posted in culture, dining, kitsch, play, travel | Tagged apple fritter, apricot, Campbell CA, Cap'n Crunchberries, donuts, fries, hamburger, protest, Psycho Donuts, South Bay Area, South Bay Area food |
