Monday, February 10, 2014

Red Apron and Breadmaking

First things first. I intend to use my position of authority as an amateur food blogger--read by my mom, my man friend, and some unidentified people in Russia, according to my blog statistics--to publicize the most notable food event in my life this week: one of my friends is currently taking a week-long breadmaking class and today, used her kneading, rising, and proofing skills to produce this thing of beauty. It has homemade bread bubbles and everything.


While she delves into this enviable yeasty and inventive world, I continue weekend culinary exploration apace. Yesterday, the man friend and I met some old friends--both of them!--at the Red Apron, a charmingly quaint charcuterie/beer purveyor/soft serve server/sandwich shop near Tyson's.


This is an area I typically avoid like the plague--what other neighborhood has a Tiffany's and an On the Border a mere 500 feet away from each other--but the development where Red Apron is situated inverts itself, protecting shoppers from the stress of the outside world. There is abundant parking, friendly walking areas, and a Paper Source: in short, a Midwestern girl's heaven.


We ordered at the counter, settled into our (perfunctorily comfortable) stools, and then tucked into our sandwiches. I had a Cuban sandwich, something I learned to appreciate in Florida. It was a bit too complex to highlight the independent flavors, though. The bread was good--but too fancy--and the pineapple mustard--I'll admit, the reason this sounded like a good idea--overpowered the pork, made in house.


My esteemed man friend had a grilled cheese sandwich, which surprisingly, was better than mine (this is not a denigration of his tastes, but rather his ordering a sandwich without meat at a meat place). It had smoked cheddar, apple, and fig vin cotto (like fig vinegar). He won this round.

  

We split fries. What you cannot see are the garlic cloves and rosemary fried up with the fries. These made this great.


Man friend and I had to pick up some domestic vittles --grown-up things like apples, Gatorade, and sponges, between us both--at the Target in this urban oasis. After loading up the car, we went back for some soft serve, because when you're an adult, you can reward yourself with ice cream after hard work. Toasted marshmallow is on the left, Nutella on the right. Being a grown up is awesome.

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