Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Thursday, August 16, 2007
You know, I get it. I've read everything Bourdain's talented nicotine-stained hands have ever written. I've vicariously enjoyed the earnest and unusual meal descriptions on deependdining. I've wincingly watched Alton sample brain sandwiches with gusto if not delight. And I've sincerely tried to eat several bowls of spicy korean tripe stew and a plate of sausages lovingly crafted from blood and vermicelli noodles. A tiny subsection of offal offerings, I know... but both meals ended, uh, poorly.
I am hereby accepting, nay, begging for offal recipe submissions that will make me a (complete) believer. I promise to use all my powers, all my skills, to make and eat 3 offal-related dishes from the pool of submissions. Then, I'll write all about it. Even if they bite me on the face.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some fastnachts to wait for.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
So, I'm officially sticking to my previous answer. Nostalgia and eggs.
Still hungry? Learn more about diners here.
Monday, July 16, 2007
Friday, July 13, 2007
A cash register hunches at the centralized check-out stand, bookended by stacks of colorful plastic trays imprinted with pictures of bamboo. Delicate, ornate metal barriers decorated with cranes and tigers outline the court itself, separating it ridiculously from the shops that surround it, as if to keep out hoards of shoppers that do not exist.
C and I get cravings for both of these delights often enough to give home production the old school try. Rolling these bad boys takes some practice, and an organized assembly line of ingredients. The effort is well worth it, though, especially on a hot day. Even the funky-looking ones we made were still delicious, and looked quite impressive filled with shrimp, mint, Thai basil, crunchy lettuce and vermicelli noodles. We used this recipe, minus the carrot and coriander.
Last night, however, I would accept no substitutes. We drove the 25 minutes out to the mall, which had more people in it than I'd ever seen before....like five. And gorged ourselves on giant steaming bowls of heaven. Other than s'good and oh god, we didn't speak a word for twenty minutes. I don't even think we looked at each other. I only had eyes for Pho.
When the smoke had cleared, our bowls were empty and our bellies were distended. We were grinning from ear to ear.
Not in Baltimore? Find your city's pho fix here.