The Bloated Belly

Correction: Lamb burger with feta.

By The Hack

So, back there, when I was talkin’ ‘bout lamburgers? I initially wrote I stuffed ‘em with gorgonzola. Yeah. Wrong. I’ve never used gorgonzola with my lamb burgers. With other lamb stuff? Sure, occasionally. It’s best with FETA. When I think of lamb, it’s FETA that comes to mind. Gorg can get a little overpowering, particularly with ground lamb, which, in my experience, is often less potently lamb-tasting than, say, a leg of lamb or shank.

The error in appeared in type because at the time I was also working with a load of gorgonzola, testing out some uses for mushrooms from Hokto (post coming soon). Had gorgonzola on the brain. They’re both crumbly, no?

Just goes to show how the bloggity world can’t quite stand up to a real publication, print or online. A blog writer simply posts. A writer for a publication has something read at least a few times before the public sets eyes on it. An editor would said to me, “Gorgonzola, foo’?”

Anyhoo, the post is corrected. And if I don't hit ya with a post before the weekend, happy Fourth.

Melt pounds with hot hot kitchen heat!

By The Hack

Since the Hack has moved full-time to professional typing, he’s noticed a few changes to his physical self. Namely, significant puffiness developed in his midsection. While he attempts to combat this with a fairly regular regimen at the gym, those efforts have failed to reduce the puffiness, but only contain its growth, and the battle for territory on the belt loop remains in stalemate. The Hack knows what he must do to turn the tide, however. But it’s difficult with the company he keeps, world-class consumers, all of them.

But they, by and large, keep their reasonably svelte figures because of their professions, which require physical activity beyond moving digits across a keyboard.

The Hack got a taste of his former upright life yesterday afternoon in the kitchen at the Barbary Fig in St. Paul. The Twin Cities, for you international readers, is stepping into summer with a heat wave normally reserved for August. Temperatures and humidity hit 95 (degrees Fahrenheit and percent, respectively). Inside, in a hot working kitchen, those numbers went up considerably. Those numbers never used to bother the Hack in his prior life mucking around in pounding heat. The body adapts.

And how quickly the body changes. Now, the Hack wasn’t actually “working” in the kitchen—he’s never been a professional cook—he was merely in there, documenting and photographing the process of collaboration between Brahim Hadj Moussa, the Fig’s owner and erstwhile chef; and Jonathan Locke, a consulting chef and columnist for the Hack’s day job. Hadj and Locke are also longtime friends, having worked together at numerous establishments in their younger days, including the legendary Faegre’s.

It was between the lunch and dinner service, and the two were knocking around a dessert item, a simple pot de crème (but with a spicy twist), which Locke had developed for his previous consulting gig resurrecting the kitchen at the doomed Mairin’s Table, a Mediterranean-themed restaurant in Northeast Minneapolis. (No fault of Locke’s for its closing a month or so ago, the menu turned stellar during his tenure and numbers were going up, but the damage was too deep.)

The dessert is a great one for a restaurant—few ingredients, fast preparation and delicious result. “This saved my ass more than a few times at Mairin’s Table,” Locke said, when an unexpected rush came in and devoured everything else offered for dessert.

There’s more to this little documentary project, but we shall return to the Hack’s stamina, once iron, now closer to that of the pansy wilting in the heat. Sweat poured out of him in bucket loads. Thankfully, he was wearing two layers of shirts, the first absorbing and masking the internal distress. Of course the dripping brow gave it away. But he acted the trooper, snapping shots and jotting notes, thankful the two kitchen pros tolerated his act to show him a thing or two.

Hadj also threw together a lunch for us, old-school brik he enjoyed growing up in Algeria, with side of warmed olives, tomato chutney and a sliced baguette. By the time we walked out to the patio, the warm breeze of the hot summer day felt to the Hack like the slap of cold air from an open cooler door.

In the shade outside, eating a simple meal with a bottle of ice-cold La Vieille Fermé rosé, accompanied by two exceptional raconteurs, the Hack couldn’t think of anything to complain about. When it came time to wrap up, he was even able to tighten the belt a notch.

Best roast chicken…ever?

By The Hack

Lookit. Nice, yes?

The Hack fancies himself a reasonable home cook, but one thing he hadn’t explored much (at all) is the roast chicken category, at least not until a couple years ago. Then he tried a few different recipes, including the one in Anthony Bourdain’s Les Halles Cookbook. He tried that one twice, and both times the bird turned out tasting fine, but not worth the work.

(Otherwise, the Hack finds Bourdain’s cookbook quite good, has cooked many items from it, and the roast chicken recipe wasn’t a waste—the herb butter recipe used with the bird was worth the experiment; he prepares that quite often for various uses).

And many recipes are similar to Bourdain’s, involving stuffing the cavity with various aromatics, shoving butter or another fat under the skin over the breast meat, and then often massaging the entire bird in butter as one might wish to douse suntan oil on a buxom bikini contest winner. Once in the oven, there’s often a starting roasting temperature, then after a while, a raising or lowering, basting the whole way through.

And most are just fine. The bird tastes fine. But that’s it. And not, in the Hack’s humble opinion, worth the time and effort.

Enter Thomas Keller.

The Hack had a farm-raised bird sitting in his fridge, a three-pounder. Not eager to start the process of massaging, basting and watching, he typed “simple roast chicken,” or some such phrase, into Google. Up popped this at Epicurious, from Mr. Keller, he of The French Laundry.

Sounded so easy to the Hack, he immediately became suspicious. He knows enough chefs that have the moral convictions of pirates—traits he himself has been accused of sharing—that he believed initially that Keller was holding out a crucial detail to keep the bird moist during the high-heat cooking that produced the crispy skin.

He rolled the recipe over in his noggin, though, and determined it could be the real deal. High heat. Smaller bird. Low-sided pan. Salt.

The Hack followed the recipe exactly (basically, after rinsing and drying, salt and pepper the sucka and cook for an hour at 450 F) with one exception: he used a broiler pan. What could be better than a low-sided pan? A no-sided pan. Juices dripped safely below deck, bird crisped up all the way down low.

(Another good tip: Doc. Biggles at Meathenge recounted in one of his roast chicken recipes that he uses a cast iron pan, sets a trivet in it, and places the bird on the trivet—an outstanding idea.)

The Hack has used this recipe with great success several times since. Moist meat, crisp skin, and with a touch of good mustard on the side as Keller suggests, it’s fabulous. The key is a great bird, not the commodity fryer available in any grocery store. That bird’s meat just won’t stand up flavor-wise to such minimal adornment, and some of them are injected with brine, which will screw everything up. Pay the money for a farm-raised bird, it ain't that much more, and you won’t go back. Plus, you’ll want to eat all leftovers, an act which adds to overall savings, no?

Adjustments:

There are occasions where the only available bird is larger than two or three pounds. Don’t fret. The Hack has made successful adjustments in temperature and time. Why, just last week, The Hack’s lovely wife bought a 4.5 pound bird. Guests were coming over. The Hack rolled his brain around and ran with this: He cut a wad of excess fat from the back end, and wedged it under the legs he lashed together above the breast—added protection for the longer roasting time required. Then he roasted it at 375 F for about 40 minutes, then cranked it up to 425 for another 30. Spun the pan a 180 degree turn at the temp shift, since he was standing there. Perfect. The added fat slab crisped up too, which made a nice, crunchy, salty snack. And you can poke in the thigh with your meat thermometer just to sooth any worries as you go, but eventually, you’ll be able to eyeball done-ness.

Best roast chicken recipe ever? For its simplicity and result, Bloated Belly HQ declares it so.

Grilled asparagus, lamb burgers

By The Hack

Is there a better way to cook asparagus than on the grill? I think not. See that stuff there next to that lamb burger? MMmmmm. Grilled asparagus. With some leftover lime butter. And it’s so stupid easy. Take your asparagus, commingled with some olive oil, and place on hot grill. Close cover for a minute. Open cover, and look. Maybe turn it, to see if they’re showing signs of grillness. Don’t wander off! It don’t take long! Few minutes, tops. Look and see when the “skin” of them suckas is starting to blister a bit, and you can see the liquid just underneath that said “skin" movin' around. You’ll know what I’m talkin’ about when you see it. Move ‘em around so they’re grilled all around, but, obviously, not charred. They might be kinda limp, depending on their thickness, but still snappy in the mouth. Done.

Don’t have lime butter? Try blue cheese. Yum. I’ll toss that lime butter recipe on here soon, though. Used it a while back for salmon.

But we’re talking asparagus here!

And that burger. Lamb.

I ain’t made a reg’lar hamburger at home in years. Nothing against hamburgers, but lamb is my fave. Take ground lamb, our butcher usually has packs at just under a pound, more than enough for two burgers, mix salt and pepper and, if you’ve got it, roasted garlic (cut the top off a garlic bulb, pour in a little olive oil, wrap in foil and place in the grill while it heats up. It don’t take long, either. Squeeze roasted cloves through a garlic press into the meat), or garlic powder if you don’t. What else goes good with lamb? I think mint and feta. Chop mint and toss in meat. Now, feta don’t sit too well on a burger. So, stuff it inside (Twin Cities folks know this as a Jucy Lucy, misspelling intentional). Make your patty into a bowl, drop some feta in there, then bring the edges together and seal ‘em up. Or, for more even distribution, make your patty into two and---you can figure it out. I cook these with indirect heat, shutting down one of the burners on the gas grill. I don’t want no flame ups to ruin little lambs. Don’t take long, neither. Couple minutes on one side, lid closed, flip, close lid couple minutes, done. Toast buns. Smear one with mint jelly. Or, toss a couple mint leaves on top. Eat.

Coming soon: Test Kitchen Chronicles

By The Hack

The Hack’s day job often gives him topics to write about that don’t quite mesh with the day job’s requirements, which is the business of foodservice, restaurants, and the personalities behind them. Some of those not-quite-meshing topics involve companies sending the Hack various food products to mess with.

Given that any experimentation with these products happens on the Hack’s personal time, The Bloated Belly seems like the perfect forum to type a little about the cooking experiments they inspire. With Bloated Belly HQ outfitted with a decent stove and outdoor cooking equipment (gas grill, wood burning grill and smoker) and a mostly willing audience (wife, drunk friends), the Hack has started documenting some episodes with these products.

The Hack makes no claim to be a professional cook—he’s never spent a day on the line. But, for the day job, he’s been very near the line, and has several pro chefs think enough of him as a regular person over the years to shout some instruction and ridicule his way.

Stay tuned…

Sadly, it's THAT Wildwood that closed.

By The Hack

It's not often that the Hack gets a little damp around the eyes, but he certainly did today when he realized that the Wildwood Pizza he heard had closed in Willernie, Minn., a short time ago was in fact his beloved Wildwood Bowl & Lounge. He always thought it was in Mahtomedi, the community just a touch to the east on Stillwater Road, so it didn't register. Obviously, it's been a while since the Hack has ventured out there; at least a year.

See, in a previous life, the Hack weilded a shovel and drove heavy equipment for a growing golf course company. He was as fine a Bobcat operator and pipe repair man as he is now a typist. Back in the day, he and his cohorts would often venture to the Wildwood (simply called "the 'Wood" by its regulars) to tip back a few in the bar, where the bar stools were vinyl cushioned chairs on wheels and the booth seats were collapsing toward the floor. The 'Wood also had a few bowling alleys, where folks could toss a few frames with balls that had seen their best days about two decades ago. It was a fine place to relax and drink, but it also had a secret unknown to many: fantastic pizza. Oh sure, you say. Who doesn't have their favorites? But no, it was truly outstanding.

The Hack was turned on to the place by his former boss, who would order a "garbage" pizza (explanation unneeded). One would walk up to a window to the right of the stage in the bar, and look down into the kitchen, which served as the take-away outlet at street level. A man, older, would look up, you would tell him what you wanted, and in about 20 minutes your name would be called and you picked up your pie. Steaming hot, toppings perfectly distributed, real mozerella nicely browned, firm thin crust (with cornmeal on the bottom) and a flavorful tomato sauce.

As the years went by, the Hack and his former cohorts would still meet at the 'Wood with some regularity. And he can't quite recall how, but he even got his lovely wife out there, and she became a fan of the pizza. She even got him to branch out of his usual ordering pattern to try the meatball pizza: the meatballs were sliced thin and strewn like pepporoni, which translated into a subtle and savory pizza eating experience, if such a description makes sense.

But a year went by, during which the Hack and his wife frequently said to each other, "You know, we should call so-and-so and meet for pizza at the 'Wood."

Now, they really wish they did.

The new owner, a fella by the name of Nick Miller, who owns The Happy Gnome in St. Paul and Buster's in Minneapolis, said he is going to open a steakhouse called The Hanger Room. Based on the success of his two places, he's appears a skilled restaurateur, so the Hack can only assume his instincts are right. But one has to wonder, since there's those nifty old bowling lanes—six, if the Hack remembers right, it wasn't a full scale alley—in place, would a better concept, for price and for retro-hipness, be something resembling the Happy Gnome plus Bryant Lake Bowl?

Yep. Smart governing. Thanks, T-Paw.

Had another post worked up, but thought this was also good reading. Kinda explains, through this issue, the total short-sightedness of our current guv. Labeling himself a conservative, his budget acts (which lack any foresight) through his tenure have only put this state into increasingly precarious situations for the coming years, if not decades. If he means he's conservative like Dubya, I guess he's right. His math skills and sense of economics weren't so hot, either.

Minnesota 2020 -- Minnesota Health Cuts Defy All Logic

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Barking dogs.

By The Hack

Amsterdam is not for sissies.

Not that it's a rough-and-tumble town, but the Hack found that, while he keeps himself in functional shape by American standards, those standards fall insanely short in a city devoted to the primary transportation vehicles attached to the human body. Yes, Amsterdam has a fine public transportation system (trams and such), which the Hack and his lovely wife utilized. But the primary mode is foot and bicycle. And yeah, there's a fair amount of auto traffic, but them boxes don't rule the streets like they do here. Bicycles are king, and even pedestrians need to be wary of stepping into designated lanes. So, the Hack sits today in his desk chair back home with achy legs from all the use they got, proving once again that all the muscles worked at the gym don't mean diddly when it comes to using them like humans are supposed to.

But his fingers still work OK, and the camera was busy—the Hack has more than 700 shots to sort through, and that was after he'd done significant editing after each day in the field. So, dear reader, keep visiting for upcoming posts.

Molecular gastronomy. Really now.

By The Hack

Something interesting to ponder from Tobie Nidetz. I haven't decided whether I agree fully or not, because I do think there's merit in challenging one's perceptions and assumptions, and skilled chefs can do that with food. But when it comes to utility, I tend to track with Nidetz.

Newspaper survival: Collusion?

By The New Guy

Well, collusion might be too strong a word these days. But not long ago, the thought of a meeting between the heads of media giants was viewed with immeasurable suspicion among journalism practitioners. Now, not so much. Just looking at my own little world being the editor/manager of a small trade publication has me reaching out to hither and yon to partner up with organizations and (gasp!) publications that don't compete directly with mine in effort to find some way to help each other gain attention and, in turn, eyes on the page.

Thinking about the virtual forest fire burning its way through tree-based journalism stalwarts across the country (in our neck of the woods, the Star Tribune recently declared bankruptcy), one would think it's high time for the heads of those companies to have a confab about what the future holds. Except a meeting of that kind is sorta illegal.

David Carr of The New York Times has a solid commentary today on just this very thing, and a few ideas on what form survival may take. I've gone back and forth on how much content a paper-based publication should supply on its Web site, but I find myself drifting more toward Carr's line of thinking: It costs money and time to produce solid, well-sourced journalism, and consumers of that journalism should pay for it. It is a product, after all.

The Web has yet to produce ad revenues to sustain a newsroom (or a social networking site), but Carr suggests that perhaps Big News shot themselves in the foot by providing much content for free in the first place. It's an argument to be made, but problematic: technology advanced too fast and furious, and many publicly traded media companies when times were still fairly flush were more concerned with profit margins than maintaining editorial staff and investigating just how to approach the Internet (The New York Times is lucky in that regard, but is soon facing hard fiscal decisions).

Many ideas are being tossed about, including a customized, printable newspaper by MediaNews Group, but the problem with that is many aggregators (Google News, anyone?) are supplying that service. But Carr points out that those aggregators should start paying those that generate the news, too.

It's an interesting debate, one that is increasingly urgent. An important part of any democracy is its transparency, and that transparency is supplied in large part by a free press. The free press needs money to operate, and now it doesn't have any.