Okay, maybe it took nearly 13 hours to get home from North Carolina yesterday - yay, holiday travel! - and possibly my back is still molded into the shape of a 2005 Honda Accord passenger seat. But I can't call the day a bust, because we stopped at Allman's in Fredericksburg, Virginia and had what was possibly the best barbeque ever, with the exception of that made by my own dear, sweet husband.*
*Actually, for me it was a tie. Don't tell him.
Continue Reading...
Disappointment compounding on disappointment: Not only is the world's largest, oldest cured ham off limits on Mondays BUT the Bob's Big Boys in the rest stops along I-95 in Maryland no longer have breakfast buffets - they've restructured the rest stop to make room for some bullshit seafood restaurant, like we're all stopping at the Maryland House to refill the tank, take a shit and grab some nice dover sole with rice pilaf.
Where are my powdered eggs? My biscuits with chipped beef in gravy? My unlimited bacon? My scrapple, that I don't actually eat but find endlessly fascinating? I DEMAND ...
September 2008 was all about gorgeous grilled foods and over-achievers. I don't know if the multiple-recipe entrants are trying to make up for lost time or just want to make the rest of you look bad, but some people are definitely working overtime here.
Roundup after the jump, and October 2008 info at the end!
Continue Reading...
Thank god, someone made actual dinner.
The Horse and Pony Jamboree was a hell of a lot of fun to watch, but, as you may have gleaned, there was not a lot of finished food produced.
It fell to the old guard to produce actual, nourishing food that would keep us sated for more than 15 minutes. You see, the whole day had been hyped as a showdown of new vs. old school: new school being anyone born in 1977 or after who first learned to cook in the current decade (everyone but my brother-in-law Peter), old school being anyone who learned ...
Here's a man who really knows how to massage his meat.
A barbecue in North Carolina isn't really a barbecue unless some part of a pig is being cooked, and the Horse and Pony Jamboree did not disappoint. Dodge (actual first name), the better other half of the HPJ, created an intensely flavorful pork shoulder, jazzing up a traditional Carolina vinegar-based marinade and mop with fresh and dried anaheim and poblano chiles. He'd also planned some spicy pan-fried black bean cakes and some kind of amuse bouche that involved lemongrass-flavored shrimp wrapped in dough and fried. I was skeptical, but as ...
I need something wide and shallow.
Here's the exciting thing about this post: you'll get to feel like you're PART OF THE ACTION. No, I haven't invented smell-o-blogging or taste-o-blogging, but after spending almost 10 hours with Graham and Dodge, 2 chefs from the chi-chi Sanderling resort here on the Outer Banks of North Carolina, I think I can help you re-create the experience I had chronicling them.
Here's how you do it: Buy a case of Miller Lite. Drink half of it, to get a good slosh on. After every photo caption in this post, yell drunkenly, "LIKE YOUR MOTHER!" and ...
Is everyone tired of pork yet? Not a rhetorical question.
We come now to the final installment of Smoke-a-Thon 2008, semi-classic North Carolina-style pulled pork with my in-demand potato salad as your special bonus with purchase. I'm not sure what I'm more tired of doing: eating pork, editing pictures of pork, looking at leftover pork or writing about pork, so I'm a little relieved that we've come to the last chapter.
Note, however, the bacon exception: I am not currently, and do not foresee ever being tired of eating, photographing or writing about bacon. I'm fairly certain that the ...
I don't actually speak Spanish. Perhaps you've noticed.
Still very tired.
Can I write an entire post
using haiku? Sí.
Behold the raw pork:
Juicy, pink, fatty goodness.
Oh, salmonella trichinosis.
Continue Reading...
Pictures here courtesy of The Girl Who Ate Everything. Olives and cake courtesy of No Recipes. Meat coma courtesy of 60.21 pounds of pork.*
More pics and recipes coming when we recover from the aftermath. More pix after the jump.
*Which means: Evil Chef Mom, you win! Email me the address where I should send your prize. Everyone else: how big do you think my refrigerator is? You're all nuts.
Continue Reading...