Don't Let Them Beet You Up

The curmudgeonly food writers at the Chicago Trib are at it again, trying to make us feel passé for liking beets.  http://www.chicagotribune.com/entertainment/dining/sc-food-0121-dineout-beet-salad-20110120,0,103301.story

Chris Borrelli says, “Still, an overnight flowering of love for the beet feels pat.”.  Overnight?  I don’t think so!  I thought I hated beets until I had my first beet salad about 10 years ago in the Kendall College dining room.  They were small and red and yellow and striped, roasted to perfection, dressed with a light vinaigrette and incredibly flavorful.  Since then I’ve ordered beets almost every time I see them on the menu.  Not because they’re hip and trendy, but because they give a chef an opportunity to create their own spin on a malleable ingredient.  And because they’re found fresh at different seasons in different parts of the country including areas that have few fresh vegetable options for much of the year.  And because they pair well with a variety of ingredients including cheese and nuts, which are in abundance everywhere.  And  because they’re colorful and fun on the plate.  And because they taste good when done right.  Even the Trib article admits that they’re affordable and keep well.  How much do we like beets?  We’ve been known to have beet salad for dessert.

So what’s wrong with beets?  Well, apparently the fact that so many restaurants are doing flavorful, interesting things with them and making them more available to the eating public is a bad thing.  Is ubiquity a crime in the restaurant world?  Guess so.  Next thing you know, they’ll be taking bacon off the menu.

My favorite beet salad recently – Julian Serrano in the Aria Hotel, Las Vegas

http://www.arialasvegas.com/dining/julian-serrano.aspx

Thrifty-Posh’s favorite – Zibibbo in Palo Alto, CA

http://www.restaurantlulu.com/Zibibbo_about.html

Quick Updates on Trader Joe & Football

Two or three weeks ago, we brought home a batch of new (for us) Trader Joe’s  wines to try – you know, the old ‘it’s a dirty job’ . . .

Well, we found a new goodie, TJ’s  Marqués de Montañana Garnacha. 

http://www.traderjoes.com/pdf/onthecounter-wine.pdf

For a $4.99 wine, this Spanish treat has reasonably luscious berry-like fruit with a surprising balance of earthy notes and a finish longer than three microseconds. 

Naturally enough, when we returned to our local Trader Joe’s  (that being a relative term in the Midwest), there were no bottles available.   Humpf.

So if you see this garnacha on your shelves, grab it, but, please . . . , leave some for us.

The Playoffs:  We shall NOT be hosting any color themed (or any other kind of) playoff feast for the impending  Bears / Packer playoff game.  The question of which team to support could get ugly, although Thrifty, who grew up in L.A. when the Rams were still there, has a hard time sustaining any real enthusiasm for da Bears. 

Besides, if it weren’t challenging enough to try to think of reasonable green and gold refreshments, the idea of navy and orange food and drinks is just disgusting. 

And even if we were to wander down that unappealing road, we worry and tremble that we might lapse into a nightmarish place of looking like Sandra Lee wanna-be’s. 

Eeuwww.

Not Cheap, But Easy

It was evident from the twinkle in the eye, the flirty posture, the arched eyebrow, and the knowing, expectant look that accompanied a hand casually placed on hip.  “Good, . . . no?” was the question in heavily accented English.  “It was amazing!” she answered breathlessly in flawless English.  Language was not going to get in the way.  I was somewhat embarrassed to witness such blatant seduction and surrender, but I should have been used to it by now.  When the Food Slut (aka Thrifty Posh) meets a Food Madame, the results are predictable.

Here’s the whole story…

One of the best things about eating in Italy is that so many people preparing the food are as passionate it about it as we are.  Many times, in very unassuming restaurants, we met people with this passion.  One of our favorites was a little restaurant in the Tuscan hill town of Montecchiello.

We had tried to eat in Montecchiello the first night we were in Tuscany, and our hosts recommended a restaurant.  We arrived to find that Osteria La Portal was closed for a special Slow Food event.  We wandered around the twisting streets of the tiny town and finally spotted another restaurant, but alas, it wasn’t open either.  We finally ended up in nearby Montepulciano for dinner that night, but planned on returning to Montecchiello at the first opportunity.

That chance came a couple of days later at lunch time.  Again, the highly-touted Slow Food restaurant was closed, so we wandered up the hill to what apparently is the only other restaurant in town.  It was open and smelled inviting, so we walked in.  Meeting us at the door was the matronly Italian proprietess, who was properly attired in a flowered dress, sensible shoes, and spoke virtually no English.  Behind her was the pass-through to the kitchen where a character who had to be her husband was working.  The language issue was not a problem, Thrifty Posh’s Italian was up to getting us a table and menus.  The place was tiny, 8 tables total, in a brick-vaulted cellar-like room.  There were nice linens, elegant stemware, and heavy silverware on the tables.  It was evident that a lot of pride went into the place.

As was our wont, we looked first for the wine list.  It’s such a civilized custom – drinking in the middle of the day followed by a nap.  Somehow we had adapted to and adopted the habit early on.  However, there was no wine list – there was something better:  a chalkboard list showing the bottles that were open that day that we could order by the glass.  We were like kids in the candy store… ”We’ll take one Nobile de Montepulciano and one Rosso de Montalcino to start”.  By a happy accident of geography, "our" town, Montecchiello, was located atop a promontory in the valley between Montalcino and Montepulciano, so none of the parochial loyalty required in either of those major wine producing towns was necessary.  Montecchiello is a town for wine sluts.

When the menus came,  excitement crackled in the air as eyes scanned the pages.  What would catch our eye?  Then suddenly, a gasp followed by a grin!  There it was - Sformato!

By now we were eating these savory custard flans whenever we saw them on a menu.  Madame’s version had broccoli with a cheese sauce and dusting of walnut flavor.  Food Slut was lost.  Madame’s eyes lit up when it was ordered.  She delivered it without comment, leaving the plate on the table, and with studied casualness sauntered slowly away.  There it was.  A slightly firm mound of greenish soufflé garnished with the velvety smooth cheese sauce and bit of walnut.  It smelled divine.  With the first bite Food Slut let out a low moan.  Then a grin crossed her face.  Declaring it a cloud-like souffle that tantalized and teased her taste buds, she didn’t want to share at first, but a quick arm wrestle won me a taste.  I knew what all the fuss about.  I may have moaned a bit myself. 

It was over too quick.  The plate was empty, even licked clean.  Madame came to clear with that twinkle in her eye.  The rest of meal matched the Sformato.  You’ll always remember the first one…but you’ll also always remember the best one.  Madame’s was one to remember.

Find the Taverna di Moranda in Montecchiello at:  http://www.tavernadimoranda.it/index.htm

 

Whose Stupid Idea Was This?

                Food Funatic is a Cheesehead, and a proud one at that.  When approaching her abode (sometimes dubbed the Cooking Compound) and crossing the Flatlander (Illinois) border at Russell Road, it feels appropriate to call and announce that one is Entering God’s Country.  So when Wisconsin made it into the Rose Bowl this year (a relatively rare event), we were inspired to host a Rose Bowl party featuring red, er “cardinal” and white foods. (If I were to wait for another appearance by either Northwestern or Stanford or my fantasy game between them, we might never get to party, so I got on board with her partisan feelings.)  

                 Some easy and obvious food choices included red and white pistachios for snacking, several white cheeses and crackers served on a red cheeseboard,  roasted beets with goat cheese, meatballs with cranberry glaze, radish roses and jicama (and a few other colors of crudités) with roasted red pepper dip, and white popcorn with chili powder for drizzling and turning red & white.  Naturally, several choices of red and white wine were opened and poured (including two Wisconsin wines – the Wollersheim Prairie Fume is a perennial favorite, but the New Glarus Primrose Red caused most of us to eye our glasses suspiciously).  The entrée course was offered in two pots of chili – one red and one white, and dessert was comprised of meringues with spiced strawberry drizzle.   In a fit of ecumenicalism, it seemed that we should include foods that may not be red and white, but which nonetheless represent Wisconsin – and so we jumped on the current bar fad and offered a “big bowl of bacon” for snacking.  Nothing says Wisconsin like Usinger’s or Neuske’s bacon!

          Okay, so this wasn’t the best food yet produced at the Cooking Compound.  And frankly, a LOT of prep work as was required to produce food that was pretty much snacking-level eats.  Thus it was inevitable that all those roasting and chopping efforts on New Year’s Eve would cause us to  1.) forget to make out own supper and so have to go get Vietnamese take-out and 2.) start grousing and accusingly ask each other, “Whose idea WAS this, anyway?!” 

           However, that doesn’t mean that there won’t be another scathingly brilliant idea right around the next corner.

                                  

FoodFunatic says - give me red and white over purple and white any day!  How much red cabbage, eggplant skin and grape can any one eat?  Go Badgers!