Explanations and Lists

Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Twelve Meals

Ends of years (and because I'm lazy, beginnings of years too) are times of reflection, cataloging past events, and cherry picking preferred memories to indulge in. Because I like cliches and I have much catching-up to do, I present below (only in recollect-able order rather than by importance) my 12 meals of Christmas, all of which occurred sometime after my last post (September) and now (the 12th day of Christmas). My only germane resolution for 2009 is to experience more.

1. Lunch of dolmathes, pot roast, and burnt buttered spaghetti at my Yiayia's house

This could have been the best meal of the year. My mother and I dropped in at my Yiayia's (grandmother's) house after a day of mall-shopping, and didn't realize how invigorating the solace of Greek and American food could be. Dolmathes are stuffed grape leaves (Yiayia defrosted her homemade ones) and with a squeeze of lemon on top, they taste like sunshine, Mediterranean blue, and my Yiayia. The pot roast was already on the stove, and came out impeccably, fork-cutable tender. Burnt buttered spaghetti (in Greek, makaronia me bouturo) is my favorite meal, ever. This is the meal I used to draw pictures of in grade school when we had to illustrate favorite foods. It consists of makaronia pasta (imported, comes in different widths), with mezitra cheese (pungent, delicately grainy, and grated, see picture) and sizzling brown butter (slowly heated on the stove until just before it burns) drizzled on top. It sounds elementary, but it's an art ensuring everything is to proportion and the butter doesn't become a black, smoking mess that satisfies the fire alarm more than your palate. I've included photos of the simple, easily-obtainable ingredients (mezitra and grape leaves) as a consolation to myself that in an ideal world, my favorite food is hypothetically replicable.

2. Sonic Drive-in, every other day in Oklahoma...

Picking Sonic as an element of a compendium of favorite meals (again, using "meal" loosely, because fried cheesecake squares and french toast sticks are always admired, but never indulged in at America's Drive-In) is so unoriginal and obvious, it reminds me of a scene in "High Fidelity." John Cusack's character says he'd put Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit" on a top ten list, to which Jack Black responds, "Oh, that's not obvious enough Rob. How about the Beatles? Or f*ing... f*ing Beethoven? Side one, Track one of the Fifth Symphony... How can someone with no interest in music own a record store?" A person in Oklahoma blogging about food probably couldn't get away with it, but as any displaced Oklahoman will attest, absence from Sonic makes one's heart grow fonder for one of their ten million possible combinations of fountain drinks. So, I particularly gleefully drank Sonic's iced teas, strawberry limeades, and lemon-berry slushes at every possible opportunity. Please see the cousin of my favorite drink, Sonic's medium cherry limeade, coyly peeking out from behind a Texas toast-buttressed sandwich. An afternoon can't possibly progress into a satisfying evening without a little push from a Sonic drink...

3. New Year's Eve Dinner, The Metro Wine Bar and Bistro, Oklahoma City

Now we get to it: food with French descriptions, like vinaigrette, fricassee, and amuse-bouche. I admit that I learned a few important things because of this dinner: osso bucco is braised veal shank, medical items on desserts are sometimes off-putting, and wine is always a good choice on New Year's Eve. This dinner was fantastic. First, we had our amuse-bouche, a small cube of tuna, covered in puffed rice and sesame seeds, served in a large Asian plastic soup spoon. Next, we had a salad with candied pecans, cherry tomatoes, and cranberries with a honey dijon white peppercorn vinaigrette, with a more notable (and complementary) chevre/phyllo... sachet? My mom was good enough to insist I photograph our fine meal for posterity and the blog, for which I am grateful.


My entree was a mahi mahi fricasse (I think the nomenclature may have more for kicks than accuracy), which was full of vegetables, shrimp, and an appropriate-for-winter broth.


Wait, was that osso bucco in the background? Let's take a closer look...


Accompanying each course was my trusty culinary sidekick, Dinner Roll, which looked very much like the small loaves I used to read about in fairy tales about hot crossed buns and bakers' men. Dessert was this delicious chocolate pave, with sticky caramel and toasted almonds scattered around. And, dessert part two was strawberry gelee (horray for unnecessary French names!), a small square of a Turkish-delight-ish strawberry flavored, sugar-coated gelataneousness, next to a raspberry with a (frankly) intimidating plastic eyedropper filled with "framboise." Eyedroppers around food send the same half-chill up my spine that hearing words like "orifice," "infection," and "coagulant" does. However, the food was inventive and delicious, without being pretentious or uneccessarily spiced. It was just what the doctor ordered? It cured what ailed me? It was the antitdote to sometimes uninventive restaurant outings?.....

4. Christmas Dinner in Oklahoma

Christmas was delightful: a wonderful day full of interesting gift-giving, family time, beautiful sunlight, and a simple, delicious dinner. It of course was an easily-satisfying dinner because I requested most of what was put on the table, but it was such a nice homecoming, despite my brother's spending it in Italy, and it tasted like home and Christmases past. My mom bought a honey-baked ham and made green beans with ham, cornbread stuffing with bacon, cornbread with homemade honey butter, cranberries with orange zest, and a salad. For dessert, we had pumpkin pie (with homemade crust and some solidly squirted ReddiWhip) and my Yiayia's homemade chocolate pudding with meringue. I realized (unfortunately, as I can't make this pudding myself) that my non-fat pudding from a box (mixed with rice milk, again from a box) is pretty awful in comparison. Too bad homemade makes such a difference. Unfortunately, making pudding from boxes, even at home, doesn't make it homemade.

I'm thankful our hams don't come adorned with unidentifiable nuts/berries.

5. Library Bar and Grill/Thunderbird (Wild Wild West) Casino, Norman, Oklahoma

The Library is the best bar, ever. Like Sonic, the Library has a legion of fans who will loyally declare the same thing. They have good beer (six local, lots on top, even more bottled), good bar food (nachos with real cheese, pizza with crusty crusts, even sushi that's good) and is, I've decided, the site of most of the important events of my collegiate and immediately post-collegiate life. I had earth-shattering, emotionally moving, wildly empathetic, buddingly romantic, and satisfyingly mundane conversations in this place. So, my friend Jarod and I went here and had an expected evening of good beer (Boyd Street Wheat), good food (jalapeno nachos), and good conversation. It was nice, then got better. We drove about 10 minutes east of Norman, Oklahoma to someplace east of Norman, where the oasis of Thunderbird casino rose out of the plains. Thunderbird Casino is administered by the Absentee Shawnee Tribe, and houses Redneck's Cafe, Chuck Wagon Snack Bar, and The Jockey Club. We couldn't figure out how a jockey fits into a cowboy-themed casino, but that clearly was a futile inquiry. And we didn't care, because beer was only $1.50 and the menthol cigarettes were so deliciously cool! I'm not a good enough writer to explain why my attention was so throroughly and constantly diverted here. There was the woman who was knitting (in the casino), the wild-in-the-eyes, overly intense, lawyer-looking man with a wad of hundreds, the hardcore Oklahoma State fans, and the invigorating hum of mechanical slot machines with potentially lucrative lines of cherries, Star Wars characters, and African animals. I even won ten dollars, which counts as profit as I was given ten extra un-spendable-only-gambleable dollars because of my gender. So, since menthol cigarettes come from mint (a plant, at some point), it counts as a culinary event.

6. IHOP, Edmond, Oklahoma

For equally remarkable culinary nomenclature, let me recount IHOP. IHOP does it up internationally for real, now. They have crepes with Nutella, Mediterranean Chicken, and a bilingual menu. But it's details like our friendly waitress, Crystal, the four types of syrup on each table, menu items called "Rooty Tooty Fresh 'N Fruity," and the proferred choice of condiments like Tabasco and Cholula that make IHOP the breakfast of champions breakfast location, all day long. I had a great breakfast part two at 1 pm (in Oklahoma, that's never called brunch): Crystal brough me two scrambled eggs, two buttermilk pancakes, and two pieces of ham. I'm not really sure what else I need to say beyond that to explain its inclusion in the top twelve. Also, the coffee came in an IHOP mug. Unruly babies, questionably suburban gangster 12-year-olds, and another waitress who recounted the glories of dipping French fries in McDonald's ice cream did nothing to detract from my enjoyment of this remarkable meal.

7. Waffle House, Columbus, Georgia

For a variation on the same theme, let's enter my mind's stomach to Waffle House, which is not to be mistaken as some sort of less-worthy imitation of IHOP. Both companies seem to have reached an understanding with each other that neither can make both good waffles and good pancakes, so have each labored to perfect their individual breakfast speciality. So, IHOP limits their waffle-making to the Belgian sort (it really can't be taken seriously when sitting opposite menu items like four-meat omelettes or a T-Bone steak and eggs) and I'm not sure surly Waffle House waitresses would admit to knowing what a pancake--gentle and fluffly as they are--was. IHOP's Crystal was friendly: young, bright-eyed, admirably interested in what tomato products I liked on my eggs. Most Waffle House waitresses look like you took their last cigarette and gave it to their ungrateful ex-husbands. They are always friendly (although a bit prickly) and mostly competent (although both waitresses and cooks alike engage in a fascinating exchage of who is less competent themselves), but it really doesn't matter when grits, eggs, toast, coffee, and orange juice are slammed down on your table for under about six dollars. And I think there is something to be said for the waitresses' anachonistic but symbolic brown and yellow costumes, which can only remind me of pancakes and butter. Plus, the brown and yellow must have triggered some my own subconscious affinity for them, as they resemble the black and yellow colors that we've since been sporting on sweatshirts since my brother graduated from Ranger school, which is what took us to Columbus, Georgia in the first place. Again organic. Beautiful. I'm proud of this photo.


8. Mom's Cafe, Guthrie, Oklahoma

Oklahoma City is quaint, but it's not small-town America (maybe buddling metropolis America?). We have Main Streets, but usually they connect to other main (little m) streets. We have people who dress up in costumes (varieties such as WalMart vests, jerseys for our new basketball team, or underage suburban gangsters, see #6), but no period costume-wearers in Land Run garb. So, because Guthrie has these things (as a legacy of its being the first capital of Oklahoma), it makes for a charming little city, replete with antique shops, tea houses, chocolate bon bon boutiques, and of course, Mom's Cafe. My dad and I both ordered one of the best turkey dishes I think either of us had ever had: a scoop of turkey salad (with dried cranberries, mayonaise, pecans, and celery) on a little bed of lettuce, and a side fruit salad with fancy fruits (pineapple, etc... like getting Butterfinger on Halloween), rather than grapes and albino, slimy melon (equivalently, getting Tootsie Rolls). Look how charming this little corner cafe is:


We went back for dessert, because eating lunch was what we did while we decided what we were having for dessert. My dad had a lovely piece of pecan pie, my mom had a cream cheese brownie, and I ate poor Santa's face, nibble by nibble.


9. Ray's Hell Burger (Arlington, VA)/Restaurant Eve (Alexandria, VA) with my brother

I have a great brother, with sophisticated tastes. And, since I took him to Ben's Chili Bowl on his first visit to DC, I had to show him a gourmet beef product in VA. After him deriding me for parking three blocks away (little whiner doesn't understand DC metro parking) and wondering whether it was still there (thankfully I recalled something about "no sign out front"...), we were the first customers at 3 or 4 pm. It's almost too hip for it's own good, but with minimal decor, paper towel napkins, and cramped tables, it keeps a convincing aura of being a legit burger joint. My brother and I, emerging culinary soulmates, ordered the same burger, the B.I.G. Poppa, which comes with an au poivre burger, aged Danish bleu cheese, cognac and sherry sauteed mushrooms, and grilled red onions. We didn't talk much, but each silently strategized on how to consume our burger. And we got some fancy macaroni and cheese. It had some obscene amount of cheese in it and my brother (who apparently hates some cheeses, more out of principle than preference) ate it, so it was a small victory for me.

Then, I took my brother to Restaurant Eve. I don't remember what I got; I was talking to my brother too much (which is the point of a good meal anyway), but I remember he got Gravlax (again, awesome!). My excitement makes sense when you see a perhaps less-than-flattering picture of my brother:

That's chew (not Gravlax) in my brother's mouth...

If you want to read my culinary hero's take on Ray's Hell Burger, click here.

10. My brother's Italian gastronomical experience

Since this is my blog, I can make the rules so will deliver more appropriate praise about my brother. So, I choose to list one of my top meals as one I've been having for a few weeks now by proxy. My brother, since his arrival in Italy, has done exactly what I would do: eat interesting things. My brother is very adventurous and has always been an admirer of good food, but it had to meet certain conditions, namely being red and meat. However, I noticed that in a recent conversation, upon asking him his preferred meals in Italy, they were (shock!) both vegetarian: pasta caprese and a sort of tortellini with cheese. I hope it doesn't seem like I am publicly deriding his taste; rather, I'm publicly admiring my devotion to the developing tastes of my brother and writing here because I am so damn jealous. As an impressively loving brother, he has been cataloguing some of these items in his head to recount for me, including recounting meals like calamari, caprese salad, proscuitto, pizza, espresso, and horse. And he can say them with their original Italian names! I'm so proud of my brother. Just FYI, to illustrate obliquely that my blog is a natural outgrowth of my upbringing, please see what my family decided to photograph on vacation in Georgia and to immortalize on film. This is why I think it's a good idea to write paragraphs about 12 meals I've eaten.


11. Sonia's Brownies/Macaroons

My friend Sonia makes lovely brownies that should launch her into entrepreneurer-dom. They are heart-shaped, have chocolate ganache in them somewhere, and are covered in some sort of chocolate sauce that drips down off the heart's upper surface onto the sides. I clearly have no idea how they are made, but they consoled my soul the first time I tried them (Valentine's Day, 2007) and it's been a love affair ever since (she pulled one out of her freezer for me recently). She makes damn good macaroons too (her gift to me a few weeks ago), the legit French kind with the stiff outside and chewy inside. How lucky am I to have a friend who calls me just to gush about the meal she just ate (never lording, always effusing) and with whom I can have a 30 minute conversation about possible combinations of crepe fililng ingredients? SO lucky that I get gifts of cookies for reasons not tied to national holidays!


This picture has nothing to do with brownies or cookies, but is some proof of Sonia and my culinary mania: us being photographed trying to photograph our own food in Greece.

12. OKC Thunder Basketball Suite

My dear father knew I was coming to town, so took advantage of the opportunity to get tickets to his employer's suite at the Oklahoma City Thunder Basketball Team's game. I saw Shaq! And Grant Hill! And some really good but wildly shorter basketball players for OKC! It was fun... we had beer, fresh fruit accompanied by a yogurt/fruit sauce in a hollowed out coconut, crunchy veggies, cheddar-stuffed jalapenos, chips and salsa, mini beef taquitos, chocolate-covered strawberries, and brownies with nuts. These items sound quotidien, but eating them while watching tall guys slam dunk, Russian people do gymnastics at halftime, and Shaq effortlessly dominate the court is pretty much the sweetest combination of food and amusement I can think of (except for Dubuque hot dogs at KC Royals games and hot chocolate at football games, but I've already described about 23 meals here already).

Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and Bon Appetit!