My 1st cheese!

I've taken up cheesemaking! With my ample free time available to silly hobbies, I've started dedicating myself to the art of cheese. I figured Ashton is making beer, Andy was making bread, what's the next best thing? Cheese! For someone as decidedly un-sciencey as myself, cheese is actually a pretty big challenge (what's a mesophilic culture??), but TOTALLY satisfying and REALLY fun. So far I've only got 1 cheese under my belt, but I've assembled a few more supplies and am ready for round 2!

The first cheese I made is probably one of the most basic ones around- a simple lemon basil cheese, made from a half gallon of pasteurized whole milk from a cow + 1/4 cup fresh squeezed lemon juice, salt to taste, and some freshly picked basil from our pet plant. I slowly brought the milk up to 165 degrees F while stirring to avoid scalding, and once it was removed from the heat I added the lemon juice and let the mixture rest for 15 minutes. After that, I poured it into a cheesecloth lined colander and tied into into a ball and placed it in a large pot to catch the drippings while it sat in the fridge for an hour. Once I took it out, it had clumped into a ricotta-esque spread to which I added the salt and basil and voila! It's one of the few recipes that doesn't call for calcium chloride, rennet, or cultures, so for my first time it was absolutely perfect. In the end I could have used a bit more salt and maybe a tad more lemon juice for some zazz, but overall it was wonderfully spreadable and lent itself beautifully to a breakfast schmear.

Next I'll making paneer (the basic Indian cheese) and I've just gotten my cultures in the mail and some goat's milk chilling in the fridge, so stay tuned!

Jumbo Slice, Adams Morgan

Nothing helps curb a hangover like a big, greasy slice of pizza, and there are no bigger slices around than Washington, D.C.'s Adams Morgan neighborhood
Jumbo Slices! They nightly serve up their humongous 'slices' to hungry crowds of barhoppers desperate for some calories. Each piece is about the size of my entire torso, and to say it's just one is a cruel joke to play on your digestive system. However, two warring establishments lay claim to the best jumbo slice in DC, and having patronized the original recipe Jumbo Slice Pizza after a night of drinking and debauchery I can safely give my stamp of approval to it as the superior jumbo slice available. If you find yourself in the Adams Morgan area with a rumbling stomach, dare to compare and take on one of the mighty slices to declare your own winner. Really, it seems like win-win, doesn't it?

Image taken from Yachad-DC.org/

Island Spice Jamaican Restaurant

Last year as I was preparing to head to Jamaica with my family for an island Christmas extravaganza in lieu of gifts, the owner of my company handed me a business card for Island Spice Restaurant and suggested that I give it a whirl. I tucked it absentmindedly into my pocket and forgot about it, despite working only a few blocks down the same street. After experiencing the claustrophobic joy of a Sandals resort, where all-inclusive food doesn't necessarily represent the local potential or even variety, I have to say I wasn't exactly enthused on the idea of some more mediocre Americanized dry chicken rubbed with pseduo-jerk sauce and cold beans with rice.

However, the idea and hope that Jamaican food might actually have something to get my tastebuds tingling led me to re-evaluate my previous prejudice, and a few of my more adventurous co-workers decided to join me for a meat-filled feast of curried goat, Jamaican BBQ chicken, and jerk chicken, each served with a side of red beans and rice and warmed vegetables. Ordering over the phone was easy, and based on the brief conversation with the harried employee your feelings are not taken into consideration, which leads me to believe that the food had better be damn good for them to stay in business.

Although I was told that each lunch plate came with fried plantains, none were to be found, and at $1 for a side I was disappointed with the lack of them despite our request. However, the meats themselves were surprisingly tender and absolutely wonderful; the BBQ chicken especially had a tender, juicy quality and the sauce packed a wallop that I had trouble not licking from the plate. The jerk chicken was no American falsetto; rather it did the nation proud with just the right amount of rubbed spices and tender meat hanging from the bone. The curried goat could easily be shared, unless one has a soft spot for a gutfull of the wonderfully greasy meat and marrow-filled bones. I was pleased with the amount of delectable marrow I was able to suck from the bones themselves, and while the curry lacked the spicy punch of the two chicken dishes, the meat was a unique and flavorful treat the likes of which I have not experienced within the city limits.

The dark greens and corn were wonderfully prepared and added an exotic, almost African quality to the entire plate. The red beans and rice were mediocre at best- a basic addition that served only to sop up the wonderful juices now running from our chins as we moaned in delight. Happily, my co-workers were more than willing to split all of the lunch meats so we could all have a taste of each dish, and while I think the vegetarians are out of luck in this particular restaurant, I recommend it as an off-the-beaten-path experience for those looking for an adventuresome, meatcentric meal.

Island Spice
2820 Market Street
San Diego, CA 92102-3105
(619) 702-9309

Lamplighter Roasting Company, Richmond, VA

What gets you mentally and physically going in the morning? For some, it's coffee. For some, it's bikes. If you happen to bike to get coffee, so much the better, and if you happen to bike to get coffee at Lamplighter in Richmond, well then it sounds like your day is off to a good start! The eternally-vacant gas station fell into disrepair long before I breezed through River City, but it's finally gone to great use as Richmond's newest revamped coffee shop/roaster/cafe/hangout of hipsters and hoboes alike. Catering to a quirky and hugely varied clientele, the things that keep people coming back in droves are the coffee and eats. Despite having become a permanent West Coaster pre-opening, I had the opportunity to stop by Lamplighter due to countless word-of-mouth praises and now every time I'm back in Richmond I make it a point to stop by; we've even been able to spread the tall bike coffee love in San Diego, bringing back pounds of various roasts to distribute amongst like-minded coffee aficionados (while keeping a few for ourselves).




One of the especially great things is their policy of giving a free iced coffee if you buy a pound of beans (any roast). I'm not exactly how stringent this policy is (the entire staff seems to be in their early to mid twenties and nary a tattoo-free employee is to be found), but it seems consistent enough to pass along as gospel. Their menu is large without being overwhelming or even too varied; lots of the breakfast basics are covered, along with plenty of animal-free dishes as well. Kitschy touches abound, and DIY details lend a complete air of freedom without becoming sloppy; despite being run by a young group of bike hooligans, professionalism is not compromised with comfort and a cozy repertoire. Feel free to bring your mom along with your dog, and if possible squeeze outside on the covered patio to avoid the slightly claustrophobic dining space (it's a bit too small to even really be called a room). Coffee is a must, and while the food isn't to die for, it's yet to prove to be a disappointment.



Richmond continues to undergo various facelifts in sections of the city, and with Acacia Midtown just around the corner and new condos springing up all along Cary Street, Lamplighter is another welcome addition to the neighborhood. Recommended for ages 1-100, animals welcomed, biking is encouraged.


Lamplighter
116 S. Addison Street (corner of Parkwood and Addison)
RVA 23220

Food Wars- Lobster Rolls

Lobster rolls are to Maine what cheesesteaks are to Philly, and if you haven't had the opportunity to head to the cold netheregions of the Maine coast to enjoy one of the delectable seafood-stuffed sandwiches, I strongly advise you to turn off your computer and hustle there ASAP by any means necessary. Traditionally, lobster rolls contain a generous portion of lobster meat tossed with mayo and served on a hot-dog style bun; however, there are endless variations to the classic, ranging from the slight to unrecognizable. Lobster contains a lot of connotations in the food world representing power, wealth, and huge debates continuously arise around the world about the sustainability and availability of the clawed crustacean. However, with Maine waters teeming with these prized creatures, it remains one of the staple foods of the Northeast and the pride of generations.

While there are thousands of tiny clapboard buildings littered all over the state, each with their own unique spin or traditional homage to the lobster roll, Kennebunkport, Maine lays claim to two powerhouse institutions each boasting the best rolls fresh from the source of the Kennebunk River. I've actually been to the Clam Shack in my ventures to the ever-chilled state, and while there are few foods that San Diego can't reinvent or simply execute better than anyone else anywhere in the world, there's simply no duplicating the lobster roll eaten at the source. When anything is pulled from its home, killed in front of you, and served within moments of its death dressed on its coffin plate with only slight garnishes to enhance the still-living flavor... well, there's just nothing quite like it. Food Wars visited the seaside town to umpire the clash of the crustaceans between the Clam Shack and Alisson's Restaurant, so if your tastebuds are salivating (which they should be at this point), check out the episode's sneak peek below.



My own first lobster roll met its demise a few years ago at the Maine Lobster Festival in Portland, which is a fantastic food festival dedicated to the king of the sea and all his attendants. Let's just say it took a few bottles of suds to get that hat on me.



As convoluted as lobster's history has been and remains to be, it continues to uphold a crowning glory of a long, proud American tradition. I sincerely hope that the seas clear and lobster settles back into its rightful place as ruler of the sea. In the meantime, a hot buttery bun and some fresh lobster meat would do me just fine.

Aspiring to Agony: Finding Bliss in the Burn of Bhut Jolokia

sa·do·mas·och·ism: the derivation of pleasure from the infliction of physical or mental pain either on others or on oneself (Merriam-Webster's Medical Dictionary, © 2007)

'“It's fun,” as one chili pepper expert wrote, “sorta like a night out to watch someone being burned at the stake.” ' (Gorman, 2010).

Only a psychotic few thrill and pain-seekers dare to even approach the legendary bhut jolokia, otherwise known as the 'ghost chile' or naga jolokia, outside its natural home in the Indian and Bangladeshi countrysides; the first taste of the thin pepper whose size reaches no longer than a pencil slowly crawls over your taste receptacles with no warning of the strike to follow; after a moment the floodgates are opened in an orgasmic rush of endorphins as the heat sizzles over your tongue, and depending on the intensity, down your throat clawing its way into your belly. Your brain quickly mixes itself a unique chemical cocktail of anguish and euphoria, and perhaps for just a moment as you consider running face-first into a snowbank to ease the incomparable cauterization on your tastebuds can you see through the haze of sensations to realize that the experience can only be described as a fiery high.

Sounds like it sure feels good to hurt so bad, doesn't it?

Animals other than humans would tend to disagree. Homo sapiens remain the only known creature to knowingly and willingly partake in the consumption of capsaicin- the chemical that, in a simple definition, makes spicy foods taste hot. The most intense varieties of peppers which contain much higher concentrations of capsaicin (namely, strains of jolokia chiles) have been used by the Indian military as painful grenades to combat terrorist and rioters; Indian farmers have been known to smear the searing oils from jolokia plants on fences to discourage elephants from destroying their crops- which means that this dangerous pepper is not just enjoyed as food, but engineered as a weapon!

This dynamite strain of pepper was declared the World's Hottest in 2007 by the Guinness Book of World Records, and depending on climate in which it is grown, ranges from 850,000 to over a million Scoville units. (A Scoville unit is the standard method of measurement for calculating heat ouput in chiles by assessing the amount of capsaicin contained within the fruit). Jolokia chiles shattered the old record previously dominated by the Red Savina Habanero, which weighs in at an impressive 580,000 Scoville units, and to put things into a layman's perspective, in comparison Tabasco sauce taps in at approximately 5,000 Scoville units. One might ask, how can something known to be so utterly absurd, so ridiculous in its capability and certainty to cause pain, be enjoyed, even sought after?

Thankfully, that's easily explained. Studies have shown that humans have participated in benign masochism for centuries, especially when it comes to two things- food and sex. Deriving pleasure by causing or receiving pain (with the understanding that a threshold of human tolerance exists and) remains a widespread psychological normality that has spanned continents and cultures, unifying humankind in these two basic functions of daily life. In reference to the food aspect, a recent University of Pennsylvania study put chili-heads to the test by feeding the subjects peppers, gradually increasing the level of heat, and therefore pain, to the cusp of unbearable agony and then polling them to find which level they preferred. Overwhelmingly, the results showed that the majority of the subjects experienced the greatest amount of pleasure during the bite just before the unendurable. This being noted, perhaps it’s only a matter of time before bhut jolokias become almost a fashionable drug on our dinner tables.

Pain and pleasure remain synonymous only with the proper mental preparation. A slap of surprise instigates a completely different reaction than a slap expected. When one submits themselves to the fate of the following moments, pain and pleasure become blurred and can meld into a complicated dance of unique sensations previously unbeknownst to the subject. Bhut Jolokias, with their unrivaled intensity, have become the next great challenge to be conquered in the thrill-seeking foodie's world.

As jolokias begin to explode in markets all around the world, we continue to discover the human tolerance for spiciness on a sublimely cultural level. These capsaicin-jammed packets have been utilized for centuries in Indian cuisine and Americans (with our typical macho I-can-outdo-you attitude) have only begun to mass-market the item not simply as food that’s not solely meant to be eaten, but vanquished into submission. Seeing as we have centuries to catch up on, Americans are woefully behind in the race to introduce this as a staple dinner item or flavor enhancer, but already hundreds, thousands, even millions have discovered the indisputable power of the jolokias. If there's anything that eons of research have taught us, it's that we as humans are gluttons for punishment: self-inflicted or not! A little bit of pain simply makes the experience that much sweeter.


Sources:
* Savuer Magazine, October 2010, page 63 “Fire in the Belly” by Suketu Mehta
* The Washington Post, February 2009, “The Pleasure is in the Pain”, by Andreas Viestad
* Gourmet Magazine, August 2008, pages 42-45, 116, “Burning Love”, by Tim Stark
* The New York Times, September 2010, “A Perk of our Evolution: Pleasure in Pain of Chiles”, by James Gorman
* October 2010, “Spiced Chili and Spicy Chili Peppers” by Sarah Kaiser
* Wikipedia: Naga Jolokia
* The Causing of Pain to Enhance Sexual Pleasure, author uncited
* April 2010, “Chili-heads' seek friendly fire from powerful pepper” by Sara Bonisteel


Image from Hot Sauce Island

Pescado

Fresh? Sustainable? Farm-raised? Affordable? The worldwide seafood debate rages on and it's never a concrete battle with black-and-white sides drawn as no sea creature has yet proven its value and ability for a clean death without natural disruption or the lack of hormones pumped into its meaty flesh. The James River in Virginia hardly lends itself as an optimal source for fresh, clean, healthy fish, and yet Richmond continuously seems to offer a better stream of fresh AND affordable catches than the ocean-sided San Diego. While overall San Diego dominates in quality, Richmond remains solidly blue-collar in attitude and prices, especially in the notoriously salty Oregon Hill neighborhood, home to some of the grimiest and grittiest restaurants around- all of which have superior cuisine to even haunts of New York and Los Angeles. Mamma Zu remains one of my favorite restaurants of all time, and 821 is still a biking hipster's paradise with solid grub and cold grog.

On our last visit back to Richmond, I had hoped to satiate my omnipresent longing for brisque lack-of service with a bowl of Mamma's noodles, but Ashton's dad assured us that a new restaurant was a contender for our affections and its Latin-infused seafood couldn't be beat. Pescado now resides in the old Hollywood Grill location on China Street, and while the decor is an odd mix of eclectic hippie paintings with bright splashy walls and an upscale-feeling bar, it was packed from wall-to-wall with an equally eclectic mix normally found in O-Hill, from college crowds to bangled socialites. One glance at the menu and it quickly became obvious we were dealing with major contenders in the seafood arena.

Grilled caesars seem to be one of the trends in the late 2000's in hip eateries, and Pescado proved to be no exception; however, I must admit I'm a sucker for the lightly toasted lettuce plate. Hands down, I can attest that the greatest grilled caesar that Richmond had to offer could be found at Dogwood Grill on Main Street in the Fan (along with some of the best fare in Virginia as far as I'm concerned), but when the restaurant closed a few years back it left a gaping hole in the Virginia culinary forum. Pescado stepped up to the plate with their caesar and since their Latin-fusion brought an entirely different view to the plate I can safely say it's one of the best in town. Lightly drizzled with a spiced dressing, freshness exploded in each bite and while the cornbread served with it was slightly dry, the massive flavors wove themselves into a symphony of balance and offered a pleasant take on the old classic. Even the butter had a twist- a cucumber-infused smear lent itself refreshingly to the spices echoed in each dish and I found it to be a unique detail that spoke highly to the attention spent in all aspects of the meal.



It's a certain caliber of restaurant where one can depend on the night's special actually being 'special', straight from the heart and imagination of the chef and not just scrappled leftovers headed for the waste bin at the end of the evening. Pescado instantly struck me as that caliber. Happily, the special happened to be a favorite fish of mine, the ever-present rare seared tuna, with accent bolsters of pureed carrots served with a raisin compote and flash friend arugula and a citrus glaze. The textures were top-notch; crunchy greens the likes of which I have not experienced outside of notebook paper surprisingly blended with the giving flesh of the fish and soft purees to all build each other up in support of an overall wonderful dish.



Ashton got the triggerfish plate, and I can't pretend to know much about the creature; based on the plate he received, I can guarantee I'll be ordering it again. Curry and okra blanketed a starchy corn mountain in a wonderful blend of seafood, Spain, and the South. Maybe not Spain exactly, but I appreciate a good trifecta of alliteration and it's pretty close! Again, fresh was the emphasis and believe me, it spoke volumes.



I often skip dessert, opting for a savory starter in lieu of a sweet ending, but currently hailing from California, home to the freshest avocados the world has to offer, I found myself tempted by the avocado tart just to see if they would throw a wrench in the works of a to-date excellent meal. Rimmed with an appropriate amount of a red-wine sweet drizzle over an almond cup, they maintained a high ranking in my estimation by echoing shades of key lime pie (which I happen to detest) and removing the over-tartness by using a smooth fruit still proving to be freshly picked and prepared. Kudos, Pescado. We'll be back.