She So Crabby

Posted on December 17, 2011 by Val

She-crab soup
Charleston, South Carolina

The thick, luxurious she-crab soup at 82 Queen

The thick, luxurious she-crab soup at 82 Queen

Charleston, South Carolina and its environs is a cultural microcosm, home to the historic culinary phenomenon known as lowcountry cuisine. This genre includes many dishes that are influenced by African and Caribbean cooking, often using ingredients otherwise considered inedible or scraps. Dishes such as shrimp and grits have found their way on to high-end menus across the country, but one in particular that appears to have stayed somewhat regional is she-crab soup. Just the connotation of the dish’s name indicates that the prime ingredient is female crabs – in this particular case, the male just won’t do.

Sign outside Toast in Charleston

Sign outside Toast in Charleston

Naturally, the crab of choice for this rich, creamy delicacy is the Atlantic/Chesapeake/Maryland blue crab (Callinectes sapidus), a species well known from its appearance in crab cakes, as the bizarre soft-shelled crab that gets eaten fried and sandwiched (spidery legs and all), and from the spicy boiled preparation that gets heaped on brown butcher paper and consumed in dives and restaurants in the Baltimore area. Once educated, one can easily identify the sex of the crab; the key reason the womenfolk are used is because the ones that are selected are generally “in a family way”. In addition to mommy crab playing a starring role in the bowl, her unborn children get to participate as well – the roe (eggs) of the crab are what contribute to the soup’s unique flavor.

The bar at 82 Queen where the she-crab soup is just as good

The bar at 82 Queen where the she-crab soup is just as good

Charleston’s favorite spot for partaking of this soup is 82 Queen, who since 1982 has been ladling out cups and bowls of the chowdery brew to rave reviews. The name 82 Queen is derived not from their date of opening but from their historic address; the three buildings that comprise the restaurant can trace their roots back to the late 1600s, having endured restorations due to hurricanes, fires and even an earthquake. I don’t use the term “favorite” lightly – 82 Queen’s she-crab soup has been voted as Charleston’s Best no fewer than 7 times by reader polls by the Charleston City Paper, a badge of honor that 82 Queen displays proudly. You would think that there would be a great deal of secrecy involved in maintaining the coveted title, but 82 Queen is so secure in being voted the best that they actually post the recipe for the award-winning soup on their web site (an excerpt from the book of recipes they sell on their web site and at the restaurant). Of course the publicity also helps since diners at the restaurant can purchase a kit with the ingredients (sans crab) to create their own soup.

Cheesy herb biscuits with honey butter

Cheesy herb biscuits with honey butter

If you’re going just for the soup, I recommend bellying up to the wooden bar where your beertender is more than happy to discuss the taste adventure you are about to embark on. A cup of the bubbly elixir will set you back about six bucks; why not kick in a buck more and get a bowl? The soup arrives with an optional cruet of sherry – go easy on the self-dispensation as the sherry adds, but can also take away flavor; a little goes a long way. She’s also accompanied by crumbly biscuits infused with spices and cheese; you’ll want to retain at least one of these tasty morsels for sopping up the dregs of soup in your bowl.

She-crab soup from Ladles

She-crab soup from Ladles

And what of the soup itself? Not having had it in any of 82 Queens competing restaurants, I can’t comment on whether it’s the best, but I can attest to it being pretty frickin’ delicious. Thick and creamy, each spoonful coats the tongue with an evenly-spiced blanket of warmth. As it lingers, the flavors emerge – the familiar sweet taste of the blue crab along with the slightly salty, oceanic essence of the roe. I will always remain faithful to my childhood sweetheart (New England clam chowder), but this hot mama can expect a visit from me whenever I’m in Charleston.

82 Queen
82 Queen Street
Charleston, South Carolina 29401
GPS Coordinates: 40°49’36.68″N 74° 7’25.39″W

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Aged Beef

Posted on December 12, 2011 by Val

Birthplace of the hamburger
Louis’ Lunch, New Haven, Connecticut

Same building for almost 100 years relocated to this spot

Same building for almost 100 years relocated to this spot

Burger aficionados are constantly looking for the ultimate gourmet burger or the best fast food beef patty available – from the diminutive, oniony square bites from White Castle or Krystal, to the face-off for the meat puck between Southern California’s In-N-Out and Virginia’s Five Guys, up through the do-it-yourself The Counter. Restaurants have escalated the lowly ground beef disc to haute cuisine, blending exotic animals and topping the burger with a dizzying array of vegetable, animal and mineral substances on baked goods from flatbread to Hawaiian sweet rolls. In order to find the ultimate burger, simply prepared in the same manner as it was at its conception, one need only look to the birthplace of the burger in New Haven, Connecticut – Louis’ Lunch.

Vertical broiling of the burgers to medium

Vertical broiling of the burgers to medium

The building (a single-story brick cube smaller than some condominium dining rooms set back off the sidewalk on Crown Street) is easy to miss. The structure housed a tannery when it was purchased by founder Louis Lassen around 1917 to replace his “meat wagon” serving steak sandwiches; when urban development threatened the site in 1975, the building was moved brick-by-brick to its current location. The tell-tale sign that you’ve found it is the line that snakes out the door with a wait at times of over an hour. There is limited seating inside, including a large round table, a small square table, and antique wooden furniture including individual booths that would look at home in an old cathedral, although there is some counter space for those who wish to stand while eating the burger.

1929 Savory Radiant Gas Toaster, source for what holds the burger

1929 Savory Radiant Gas Toaster, source for what holds the burger

Simplicity is the key – the menu only contains four items – the burger itself, sides of potato salad or bags of chips (there isn’t a French fry to be found, so don’t ask) and freshly baked pies for desert. Most of the variety comes from the available pie wedges or the ample selection of soft drinks – the burger is prepared the same way as it was when Louis Lassen allegedly threw one together for a hurried patron back in 1900, a birth date that is not in dispute or even closely challenged. As a sign on one of the far walls reminds diners, this is not Burger King, and you cannot get it your way – all burgers are cooked medium and requests for different cooking times will take longer since the patties are cooked on racks together. A lean blend of different meats so secret even WikiLeaks doesn’t have access to the recipe is hand-formed to patties in plain sight; these are sandwiched in a wire racked that is inserted vertically into one of three antique cast iron gas stoves that look like the triplet sons of W. W. Denslow’s tin man; how the burger is able to emerge from the blue flames moist and juicy is beyond me.

Preparing a batch of burgers

Preparing a batch of burgers

The rack is opened and each burger is lightly seasoned and placed on toast that comes off the 1929 Savory Radiant Gas Toaster, a contraption that looks like a torture chamber for bread slices on a chain conveyor belt. Don’t even think about asking for a wheat bun or Kaiser roll – all the white bread comes out of unlabeled sliced loaves lovingly wrapped in nondescript white plastic. There are three options for your burger besides the light salt and pepper dusting applied to the cooked patty – a putty knife’s worth of soft cheddar, thin slices of yellow onion or sliced tomato – that’s it. A sign above the cooking area proudly displays a catsup bottle nested inside a red Ghostbuster circle and diagonal bar indicating that you’re on your own when it comes to condiments – you won’t find a catsup packet in the entire place unless it was surreptitiously smuggled in. The chef has his assembly line down to a science – the optional cheese is spackled across the bottom slice of toast and capped with the burger, whose heat melts the cheese to a Cheez Whiz consistency. When requested, halved tomatoes are sliced face down, as are the onions (sometimes in cross sections so thin they disintegrate atop the burger and hang over it like thin white spider legs) and the sandwich is capped with the top slice of toast. The sandwich is cut in half and either wrapped in paper to go or placed on a small paper plate for dining in.

The burger with everything available on it

The burger with everything available on it

As limiting as the burger options appear to be, this is a blessing in disguise; the sandwich comes out hot, with the juicy meat crumbling between the slices of toast, a dribble of cheesy lava spilling out from beneath. The thinly-sliced onion gives some flavor to the meat without overpowering it, and the tomato is a good substitute if you miss the abomination that is bottled catsup; be sure to grab a small stack of napkins as this bad boy is messier than Oscar Madison. You may want to opt for yours naked, with nothing but the burger between the two slices of toast – trust me, the burger is outstanding, with each meaty bite exploding in hot broth, better than any you’ll stand in line for anywhere.

Hand-written resume of someone applying for "toast girl"

Hand-written resume of someone applying for “toast girl”

Louis’ Lunch has the distinction of being the inventor of the hamburger as a sandwich as well as being the oldest burger joint in the U.S. (still under ownership and operation by the Lassen family). Its New Haven location makes it a mandatory stop when traveling from New England through the Atlantic states or you can wait until you join Skull and Bones and get sent out for a bag of burgers.

Louis’ Lunch
263 Crown Street
New Haven, Connecticut 06511-6611
GPS Coordinates: 41°18’23.09″N 72°55’49.55″W

GALLERY: See images from Val’s visit to historic Louis’ Lunch for their legendary burger in New Haven, Connecticut

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Sunday In The Park With Gulliver

Posted on December 10, 2011 by Val

World’s smallest park
Mill Ends City Park, Portland, Oregon

See the greenbelt in the background? That ain't it.

See the greenbelt in the background? That ain't it.

If Occupy Portland had settled on Mill Ends City Park as their base of operations they would have been hard pressed to get Verne Troyer camped out there – the park meanders over a sprawling two foot wide circle in the median area of Portland’s SW Naito Parkway, not far from Portland Saturday Market (compare this to the nearby Forest Park, weighing in at a respectable 5,100 acres). The officially designated city park originated as an off-handed joke by Oregon Journal columnist Dick Fagan on St. Patrick’s Day in 1948; the stone-curbed circle was designed to house a lamppost, but when the hole began sprouting weeds, Fagan planted flowers and claimed that the spot was home to the only leprechaun colony outside of Ireland. Dubbing the park “Mill Ends” after his column in the Journal (which was located across the street from the park), Fagan continued to maintain the park until his death in 1969. The City of Portland legitimized Mill Ends as a city park in 1976.

A tree grows in Mill Ends City Park

A tree grows in Mill Ends City Park

Over the years, tiny park amenities have been added and removed as well as the park’s ever-changing dense vegetation; children and visitors regularly leave toys, trinkets and art work at the park (which is apparently cleaned out on a regular basis in an effort to make Mill Ends less difficult to find). The park is the location of an annual St. Patrick’s Day festival, although don’t look for a performance by Honey I Shrunk The Celtic Band any time soon. Tourists seeking out the legendary diminutive recreation area often walk right past it, mistaking its location for somewhere in the green Governor Tom McCall Waterfront Park that runs between Naito Parkway and the Willamette River.

No need to get an early start, pack a lunch or get day passes; the park is open 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, and although the city has a camping ban in city parks, no ban exists on Mill Ends since sleeping in the park would be impossible (and the city is reluctant to incur a curse by the resident leprechaun population). The park was closed temporarily for about a year in 2006 while construction took place on Naito Parkway, at which time it was relocated to just outside the World Trade Center on the adjacent corner. Despite being recognized by Guinness Book of World Records in 1971 as the world’s smallest park, the distinction appears to be lost on Portlanders – on my visit to the park, cars on both sides of the street whizzed past without slowing down to figure out what it was I was documenting (after all, the general rule for visiting America’s open areas is “take nothing but pictures, leave nothing but footprint”, the latter of which I thought was best bypassed completely as a single footprint would have destroyed the park).

Either someone left a toy lizard or it's now Jurassic Park

Either someone left a toy lizard or it's now Jurassic Park

Portland, Oregon is a quirky little city that has a vast array of things to see, do and eat, but a trip to Stumptown without a visit to the world’s smallest park would be missing the spirit of what the signs all over town urge – Keep Portland Weird. There’s no excuse not to check out Mill Ends City Park; it’s a small world, after all.

Mill Ends City Park
SW Naito Parkway at SW Taylor Street
Portland, Oregon 97204
GPS Coordinates:  45°30’58.27″N 122°40’23.67″W

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Frank the Ripper

Posted on December 8, 2011 by Val

Rutt’s Hut
Clifton, New Jersey

The world famous Ripper

The world famous Ripper

Mention “The Ripper” from New Jersey and you will immediately be asked if you’re referring to a character on The Sopranos; however, the person of interest with the ominous sounding moniker is actually a hot dog. The often-imitated, seldom duplicated Rutt’s Hut has been vending the wiener with a vengeance since its humble beginnings as a roadside stand in 1928. The concept of The Ripper is simple – Rutt’s takes a custom-made, blended pork and beef hot dog with a snappy natural casing and drops it into a vat of hot oil. As the hot dog cooks, the skin crisps up and bursts open like John Hurt’s chest, exposing the enclosed pink meat. While the split skin takes on a crunchy snap, the interior is hot and moist, creating a contrast in textures while retaining the taste.

Boulevard of Hot Dog Dreams

Boulevard of Hot Dog Dreams

Abe Rutt started out small , hawking his red hots to passers-by along the highway that ran past the stand; eventually a sturdy brick building was erected around it featuring a bar and a dining area (the glassed in counter and take-out room at the back of the building is what remains of the original hut). The business was sold in 1974 to Nicholas Karagiorgis (whose family still runs the restaurant with the rhyming name). The location just on the other side of the Hudson from Manhattan makes Rutt’s Hut a mandatory destination when in the New York City area.

Rippers in the making

Rippers in the making

The most popular presentation is dubbed “The Weller” (presumably denoting that the hot dog is well done). The split and twisted casing is well-past thoroughly cooked with the interior still identifiable as a hot dog. On the other end of the spectrum is the legendary “Cremator”, a wiener so well done that it would be admitted to the morgue instead of the burn unit. On my visit, I started with a Weller, lightly dressed with a bright yellow relish made from a recipe so secret that they’d have to kill you if they revealed the ingredients (which in northern New Jersey may not be tongue-in-cheek).  After slowly savoring the immolated delight, I asked for a Cremator, a request that Eva Christafinis (who was working the counter) attempted to talk me out of. She explained that requesting The Cremator was at your own risk – she has seen fluffy white buns cradling charred black sticks that could barely be recognized as hot dogs make their way over the counter into the eager paws of regular customers. The Cremator she handed me received a “That’s not so bad” approval rating from Eva, and even though the hot dog was brown all the way through with a heavily blistered skin, it was still delicious (although bereft of some of its normal meaty flavor).

Rutt's Hut's rustic bar area

Rutt's Hut's rustic bar area

You can enjoy The Ripper (as well as multiple other Americana and deli menu items) at the wood-paneled bar or in the dining room inside, but there’s something to be said for the nostalgia of standing at the Formica counters at the original florescent-lit stand in the back while you polish off your burn victim. Hot dog joints across the world have either attempted to recreate or outright misrepresented themselves as the original (including several now-defunct businesses that named their restaurants with a very-similar sounding name), but Rutt’s Hut remains the top dog when it comes to what has come to be known as the “northern New Jersey-style hot dog”.

One of their ample dogs will set you back about 2 and a half bucks, but from a historic and gastronomic standpoint, that is truly an offer you can’t refuse.

Rutt’s Hut
417 River Road
Clifton, NJ 07014-1520
GPS Coordinates: 40°49’36.68″N 74° 7’25.39″W

GALLERY: See images from Val’s visit to Rutt’s Hut in Clifton, New Jersey

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I Am The Pumpkin King

Posted on November 28, 2011 by Val

Pumpkin (Part II)

Soup from the common sweet pumpkin

Soup from the common sweet pumpkin

Last year around this time I posted an article on pumpkin highlighting some of the pumpkin-laden dishes I’ve had the pleasure to enjoy; virtually every part of every variety of pumpkin is edible, with each variety imparting its own unique flavor. Most of us are familiar with the common Jack-o-Lantern pumpkin that when carved and illuminated from within graces many a doorstep on Halloween; also familiar, especially in the kitchen, is the sweet or pie pumpkin, that smooth, round orange orb that ends up in cookies, pies and breads each autumn. The wonderful thing about pumpkin from a culinary standpoint is that the fruit will last up to 6 months with the skin intact and stored in a cool, dry place, meaning that you can be cooking with it well into winter. Once cut, the flesh can still be used if it is steamed, boiled or baked and then frozen (usually after being pureed, the perfect state to use in baking or even for making soups or ice cream).

From a genealogical standpoint, pumpkins come from a family of fruit-bearing vines that includes gourds and squash with ancestry in the Americas. Most of the unusual colors, textures, shapes and sizes that are becoming more common at roadside stands, in pumpkin patches and in grocery stores are either older varieties finding new interest or hybrids. The familiar orange color is a result of the fruit’s high beta carotene content; although some pumpkins don’t betray this on the outside, they all show their true colors under the knife.

Australian blue fries with the consistency of sweet potato fries

Australian blue fries with the consistency of sweet potato fries

This year I decided to work with a couple of unusual varieties based on their un-Hallow’s Eve appearances – the albino ghost (or Lumina) pumpkin and the blue-green Australian blue (also known as the Jarrahdale pumpkin or Queensland Blue depending on where they are raised). Both are from the same family (Cucurbita maxima) as the Jack-o-Lantern pumpkin, although there is little family resemblance.

I started with the gourd from Oz, which when cut had a deep orange-red color and thick flesh. Because the meat was particularly thick it was the perfect choice for pumpkin fries (although it required a considerable amount of elbow grease, and I don’t mean for frying). I chose to make them in the oven, which meant that they probably would not be as crispy as they would in a hot oil bath, but I considered baking them would preserve more of the taste and nutritional value. The cut fries were thinly coated with olive oil and then dusted with cinnamon, nutmeg, black pepper and sea salt and the result was astounding – the flavor was amazing, not quite as sweet as the pie pumpkin but definitely a wonderful and more flavorful alternative to sweet potato fries.

Ghost (or Lumina) pumpkin

Ghost (or Lumina) pumpkin

I reserved some of the pumpkin for other purposes; half of the fruit was baked inverted in a dish with about 1/4 inch of water, much the same as the preparation for acorn squash – this method is preferable to boiling or steaming as you don’t lose as much of the flavor and the result is a firmer dish similar to baking whole yams (although there was no way I was going to kill the taste with a brown sugar glaze or marshmallow). A little butter, cinnamon, crushed walnuts or pecans and a drizzle of honey is perfect for unlocking the flavor of the blue.

I prepared the Lumina using the same recipes as with the blue. Cutting the Lumina is more dramatic than the blue because of the bright white skin; the flesh is paler than the blue, showing a nearly yellow color similar to the turban squash. The seeds are clustered in little pockets that require a great deal fine motor skills separating them from the pulp; the firm meat has a strong taste, and is not as sweet as the blue, but I welcomed tasting the difference using the same preparations as before.

Steamed ghost pumpkin (L) and Australian blue (R)

Steamed ghost pumpkin (L) and Australian blue (R)

I blended some of the steamed chunks of both pumpkins together to make soup; the recipe I used called for chicken broth and so I thought it would be apropos to cook down the remainder of Thanksgiving’s turkey carcass. This is ill-advised when your turkey is fried; the spices and taste of the oil permeated the broth, which rendered the soup tasting like turkey with a side dish – not bad, if that’s your intent. I pureed the remainder for pumpkin bread and roasted the seeds from both fruits (identification was easy since the Lumina had bright white seeds).

A little bit of pumpkin goes a long way, and if you enjoy cooking with it I advise you to take a walk on the wild side and try some of the more unusual varieties for their unique flavor; who knows, you could be the next Pumpkin King.

GALLERY: See images of pumpkins and the dishes Val made from them as well as other pumpkin treats

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