Potato Soup

            As we wind down the school year and I have less than two weeks before I venture back home, I have a feeling of nostalgia that creeps in causing unspeakable cognitive dissonance. Battling this un-settling feeling of anticipation, stress, and anxiety, I feel the best thing one can do for themselves is to indulge when acceptable. For me, comfort food has always been a means of therapy. But not any old food will do. Granted chicken and waffles, pasta, shrimp and grits, and other Creole dishes have always held a soft spot in my life, but these just can’t fix what I have a hankering for.

            No, for me it has to be Grandma Slusher’s fried green tomatoes, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, and beef & noodles with a glass of skim milk or a Jeremiah Weed, and her homemade strawberry shortcake with whipped cream for dessert.  This woman would be the death of me if she were to cook for me every day. While I can’t replicate the taste of her veggies pulled from the garden, or her home canned beef, there is one dish I can replicate.

            Contrary to belief, it is not a person’s “Milkshake” which brings em’ to the yard. It’s my family’s recipe for potato soup. This is a real treat for you all as it is a recipe which we don’t give out all willy nilly. However, I will be giving out an adaptation of said recipe; one which I have developed.

Equipment:

1 Large Stock Pot

1 Ladle

Cutting Board

Knife

Vegetable Peeler

Measuring Spoons

Measuring Cups

Mixing Bowl

A Sturdy Fork

Ingredients:

3 Quarts Water

1 Quart Chicken, Beef, or Vegetable Stock or 1 extra quart with 2-3 tbs. bullion.

5-7 Russet Potatoes, Peeled and Diced

1 ½ Large Yellow Onion, Diced

4-5 Stalks Celery, Diced

1 lbs. Package Polish Kielbasa, Diced

8-10 Eggs

3-4 Cups All Purpose Flour

Salt TT

Pepper TT

1 tbs. Garlic Powder

1 tbs. Dill Weed

Procedure:

1.      Combine cold water and stock in a pot and start on high heat.

2.      Wash, Peel, and Dice potatoes and add them in while water is still cold.

3.      Add salt, pepper and dill weed.

4.      Peel and Dice the onion and add to the water.

5.      Wash and Dice Celery, and add to the water.

6.      Dice Kielbasa and Add. You may choose to sear the Kielbasa before adding it too.

7.      At this point, the water should be at a rolling boil. Starches will rise to the top. Leave them as it will thicken your soup.

8.      In the mixing bowl, pool the eggs, add a pinch of salt and pepper and garlic powder, and flour.

9.      Mix together with the fork until it is combined. It should be something of a stiff, drop biscuit consistency.

10.  Heat the fork in the soup and then pull fork tips of batter off of the egg mixture and drop them in the soup.

11.  When dumplings are cooked and potatoes are Al Dente, the soup is done.

12.  You can choose to let the soup boil down a bit. I let mine get to a chowder consistency.

If desired, replace the salt and pepper for the soup with Mrs. Dash Table blend. Mind you though a little goes a long way.

This soup is has brought a lot of great friends together at my apartment where we have shared laughs and enjoyed one another’s company. This soup is one that holds a great place in my heart. When you’re sick, you’ll be good as new the next day if you eat this. It warms you up when you’ve been working out in the cold weather as we in Michigan often do. Its full of fiber if you catch my drift. Above all, it’s the ultimate comfort food for a night in. I have had such a high demand for this soup that I had to start canning and jarring it to sell to my friends! But make it your own and add your own influences. I just love this soup so much that I wanted to share it with everyone. Perhaps though my favorite part about this soup is its lack of dairy and that it doesn’t need dairy. 

Woody's Wood Fired Pizza and Watering Hole

Woody’s Wood Fired Pizza and Watering Hole

            You know when you have spent the whole day running around and pretty soon your stomach is all, “Let me sing you the song of my people.” A mental list of nourishment of that day comes up with a short list including a pot of coffee, a fiber bar, and 4 month old fortune cookie you found in your car. At this point, you’re so hungry that you can’t even think about wanting to eat and nothing sounds better than pizza and/or ice cream, even if you’re lactose intolerant.

            For this remedy, you go to a buffet. From my experience here in Colorado which is the healthiest state in America, I have found that buffets are taboo and therefore are hard to find. Not to mention they are the mortal enemy to my diet. Being in Golden, CO at that, options are limited. My friend Benjamin and I go to Woody’s Wood Fired Pizza and Watering Hole. Benjamin is a student at the School of Mines. Studying to be an engineer, very bright, sometimes cocky and bit too smart for his own good at times, though what would you expect from an engineer? A child at heart like most people, his favorite ice cream is Cotton Candy with a ton of Gummy Bears.

At any rate, Established in 1993, or 20 years ago if you can believe it was that long ago, this pizzeria is located on Washington Street just past 13^th, in Golden. I remember about 3 years ago when I visited Golden with my parents before I met Benjamin and Woody’s smelled so good, though we went to Coor’s brewery instead.

            Before going to see Jurassic Park in 3D, we make our way to what was described to me as “Ci-Ci’s Pizza, but way better! You want pizza? This is the place to go!”  Stepping up to the single wide glass paned door just off of the patio you come into what can really only be described as a mountain buffet bar. Woody’s was jam packed from people of all walks. Mostly drunken college students but some families and even some business men schmoozing a client or two.

            So packed we had to take one of those restaurant vibrators and wait at the bar. It did come off as a surprise that as soon as our bar stools were pulled out, our indicator went off. Being seated in the back at a booth for two was nice as it was already really loud. Napkins were paisley handkerchiefs rolled around the eating utensils. Our server was a bit rushed it seemed and I could hardly hear him. Ordering a 16 oz. beer for me, I soon realized I did not want the all you could eat pizza and it was the same price for a personal pan of it. Being the semi lazy son of bitch I am, I decided to go with a burger.

            Now, bacon cheese burgers have always had a place in my heart but I came across the most amazing creation in burgers that I have never considered before. I know of bacon BBQ burgers, but a pulled pork burger? Only in Golden have I seen this. BBQ pulled pork, onion rings, beef patty cooked to order on a roll, stacked with shredded lettuce, pickles and more onion. Naturally a side of fries with horseradish to dip them in. Ranch was a great addition as well.

            Paired with a Coors which was brewed just down the street only adds to the authenticity found in this mountain city, I only wish the burger had more BBQ.

            I would say that this was a successful first visit to a restaurant. Stepping out of the restaurant and ogling the pizza, I would say that I’m almost happy I didn’t get any as the crust looked a bit too thick for my tastes. Also, the fortune cookie said to “carve your name on your heart and not in marble.”

Burger and Beer: $14.85

Ramblings from a Michigander

            Michigan draws its name from the Chippewa work “meicigama” meaning great water. Only fitting as it is considered home to the 5 great lakes and in my opinion, is the true land of lakes, not Minnesota. The cliché goes, “home is where the heart is”, and for me, my heart is and always be in Reading, Michigan.

            Reading, Michigan is a town of 1,034 people. The first week of August, we have our festival days. If I had to describe this to someone, I would tell them, walking into the heart of my town is like stepping into stereotypical Small Town, USA in the 1950’s. The grass is green, freshly mowed, and people are outside saying hello as you pass by. The smell of chicken BBQ and baked beans wafts from the fire station. Main street is closed off with Amish and local artist selling their crafts and baked goods. Peddle tractor pulls down silver street and then the parade starts, marching band and all. Two miles outside of town, you can go to hemlock lake and drop the boat in if the heat gets to ya.

            Stop in to Ray’s Tavern and have their cheeseburger, voted number one in the country by USA today. And of course, look south of town to see Barny Barnhearts iconic red barn. On the subject of local venues,  Kelci, or Kelcho as she was known in high school, had  “coop” nights. Coops nights are the best. Imagine if you will, a 30 foot long chicken coop with a loft, hard wood floors, insulated walls, heater, air conditioner, full working bathroom, couches, and a bar.  This was a frequent for many to go murder their livers. I recall one such crime as the night I drank a good amount, forgetting that I had donated blood the day before.

Home towns always seem to hold a special place in people’s hearts and most everyone agrees that their home towns are the best in the world. Of course, this is only a part of my love for Michigan. Growing up here I had the good, the bad, and the ugly. Unfortunately, my home state catches a lot of back draft as Detroit and Flint are the two worst cities in the United States. Only natural as people only go to Detroit for the airport and Michael Moore, or satin himself, came from Flint.

            But I digress, as the good outweighs the bad. To the north, we have Turkyville, USA. Tiny locomotives you can ride around, and one of the largest craft shows in North America; this place is where we end up year after year regardless of the weather. If not for the crafts, you always stop for their turkey, well, everything! Turkey pot pies, turkey soup, turkey salads! To the west you have South Haven and Grand Haven. It’s like a trip to New England, Michigan style! Fresh water fish and wine bars pollute this area. Straight north of there, Petoskey. Think the Vail, CO of Michigan. Very well to do and voted one of the number one cities in the U.S. to visit by the Smithsonian Magazine.

            Perhaps though to keep from rambling, I will just say that my second favorite place to be is the Upper Peninsula in general. Pastys are the state dish. Mackinac Island of course. This place is like stepping into West Egg from Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby. Very historical, period ware is common along with the best fudge you will ever have the pleasure to touch your taste buds.  Tahquamenon Falls is also “way up north.”  This set of three separate waterfalls drop around 7,000 gallons of iron rich water a second and are beautiful when they freeze over in the winter. But if nature isn’t a person’s thing, no problem! Let your friends go see the falls while you stay at the Tehquamenon Falls Brewery & Pub. Sit right next to the stills and have one of the best moose burgers around, though I am partial to their cod.

            Coming full circle though, we have to return home. Hillsdale County Fair beats all of my food experiences hands down. Then again, who doesn’t enjoy food that is twice and triple deep fried? Elephant ears, candied almonds, onion rings, Fisk French Fries, lemonade, quick break to ride the “The Zipper”, throw everything up, and go for the pretzels with cheese, polish sausages with extra peppers and onions, and a Coca-Cola this time around, before going and watching the tractor pulls and combine demolition derby. Uncouth and unrefined.

            I can’t say I know how to really end this as it will never end for me. And because this more or less awful combobilation of food and travel rants which is chocked full of grammatical errors and simple English language mistakes seems to be serving for nothing more than a way to express my deep love of Michigan, I will leave it as such. Perfect in its imperfection. Perhaps though, this blog will be transformed into a “Pure Michigan” blog, for the express purpose of provoking thought about food, travel, life, and nature.

Farm to Table: An Economies of Scale

            Being someone who grew up on a cash crop farm in Michigan, I hold a soft spot for the agriculture industry. I remember as a child raising chickens and even my first hog who I named Wilber. Now don’t get me wrong, I find the slow food movement and farm to table fad to be a good thing and can really help a business. But it is just that, a fad and sooner or later, it will have to die off.

            Many restaurants and people cooking at home are looking into the slow food movement and farm to table trend for means of healthier lifestyles and as a way to make a smaller impact on the environment. I will agree it is a tad absurd that for every 1 calorie of food to reach the table, it takes 10 calories of energy. Not to mention, with all of the outbreaks of food borne illness from listeria to salmonella in commercial food production, it only makes sense to go to a more natural way of obtaining food.

            The utilization of going to farmers markets and road side country stands in personal use and partnerships of local farmers in the case of restaurants is being seen more and more. I will agree as someone who sold sweet corn on the side of a road on Sundays growing up that I full heartedly support this kind of behavior. You may be asking yourself though, what point am I getting at. Well here’s the fact of the matter, this trend has grown exponentially. Alice Waters who was one of the pioneers of the slow food movement has been doing this for quite some time. Is the past six years I would say though, it has grown to a pandemic and I use this word, not so lightly.

            To name a few, Fruition here in Denver, and “The French Laundry” owned by Chef Keller in California have their own farms which grow the products they serve in their restaurants. Genius! This is what restaurants need to be doing. On the flip side, you have large companies such as Chipotle which is located throughout the country which utilize the use of local ingredients from “Organic” farmers. Local implying that it can be sourced within 300 miles of the establishment.

            First of all, organic implies many things and has grown into a very loose ended term which can infer a variety of things. Organic can be referring to the growth of animals without the use of steroids, hormones or antibiotics. Grass feed, grain feed and so forth. With produce and grains, it can be all naturally and handpicked, or it was raised with “Organic” pesticides, herbicides, fertilizer and such. You really don’t know what people mean when they say organically raised.

            Second, I think that people need to get the corn cob out of their ass, pun intended. Just because someone eats local, fresh and organic does not make them better than any other person. It’s just simply a way of life and while I am understanding of it, I don’t need judgment passed down to me, my family, or any other farmer, rancher, or food producer who are just trying to make a living off of the land which is something people seem to forget. The earth is in short supply with over 7 billion mouths to feed. Without the use of GMO’s and modern farming techniques, world hunger would tenfold. To me, what people need to do is yes, buy local or better yet, grow their own damn food. Restaurants should follow suit. When companies such as Chipotle start sourcing all of their ingredients in such a manor, it will create an economies of scale resulting in these “small” time farmers to produce such mass quantities in the near future that they will be unable to keep up with demand and inevitably start using more modern techniques such as the use of herbicides and pesticides.

            I remember when Wilber was slaughtered when I was 5 years old. And needless to say he was delicious. This fad will die out eventually. While it will not necessarily be “delicious”, I think it will be a final wake up call for people. Personally, I look forward to this day because maybe, just maybe, people will stop bashing the ag industry and the people who work so hard to feed so many people.  

Hamburger Mary’s

(Eat, Drink….and be Mary!)

            In the continuation of being drunk at brunch, we decided to go to Hamburger Mary’s. My friend Ashley really wanted to go with this being her last week in the state and with me never have gone, it sounded like a swell plan.

            To begin with, Hamburger Mary’s is one of the “gay” hotspot hang outs in Denver with Drag Bingo and karaoke. I have heard nothing but great things about their food. It is a large facility with a patio, fireplace, bar, and a stage. Fuchsia, baby blue, and blood orange walls littered with pop art and pin ups. It almost feels like stepping into a cliché if you will. Their brunch menu was small with your normal sides, eggs Benedict, and select signatures. In loo of my current diet and not really feeling all that hungry, I settled for a side of bacon, two eggs over easy, and sour dough toast. Ashley had the Chicken n’ Waffles (which is one of my favorite items), and Rasha got the Huevos Rancheros.

            Our server had about 5 tables including us and he worked extremely hard. The place was not packed which was to be expected with it being Easter and all. Ashley and I finished one pitcher of mimosas and ordered another. They used about a whole bottle of champagne and only a bit of orange juice. It gave it a really wheatey taste, almost like a Jeremiah Weed fermented lemonade. Really good and rustic.

            Out comes the food! The perfect bacon, thick and the best caramelized stripes I most likely ever had! Thick and just the right mix of crispy and al dente. My eggs were almost too perfect. Not broken and not hard. Though they could have been a bit crispier around the edges. But they weren’t greasy either which is something I won’t complain about. And my sourdough toast was a bit under done for my taste but they didn’t over butter it before it came out which is something I can’t stand!

            I think the best thing was Ashley’s chicken n’ waffles. While you normally see them separate, this was a signature dish I could see myself replicating at home it was so good! Two house made waffles with bacon, scrambled eggs, cheese, and a chicken fried chicken cutlet in-between with potatoes on the side! This breakfast sandwich was ground breaking and I recommend it to anyone with a knack for the savory side of things.

            My favorite part of this experience however was our service. Anthony, our server took a lot of time to converse and anticipate our needs. He looked like the lead singer from the band Fun. And had the most perfectly quaffed hair I had seen. Noticing my camera, we had a discussion ranging from photography, to driving in Kansas, to the weather.

I think what I enjoyed the most was his patience, we stayed for an hour after we ate just drinking and chatting and holding true to their slogan of being marry. We were not rushed with a check and he asked before he brought it if that was ok. We become his last table of the day and he stayed over just to take care of us. This is something I never really expected and it raised the bar for them as I will be returning on Monday night for drinks with friends. Overall, this has been one of my favorite meals to date here in Denver, no matter how simplistic it was.

Mary’s Chicken & Waffles: 10.95                    Huevos Rancheros: 8.95

Side of Bacon:  1.95                                         Toast:  1.95

One Egg: 1.95                                                  Bottomless Mimosas: 10

Denver Beer Company.

            Located just on the west side of LoDo, sits Denver Beer Company; A medium sized warehouse bar with a reputation of having outstanding micro brews. I was joined by my favorite ice cream flavor, Melissa and her new main squeeze Justin.

            First push of door and an army of smells come out at you. The warm, mash smell of hops, dusty smell of wheat and barley being smoked, and the slight body odor smell of the place being fully packed, just to name a few. The first thing I noticed was how the barren brick walls are an ugly dark orange and a macaroni and cheese yellow. As were the chairs.  Personal opinion but I  hated the orange. However, I really enjoyed the rest of the lay out. They had a huge bar, many tables, and their walk in cooler was cleverly hidden by walls made of early 1900’s metal shelves, which were obviously left in the warehouse owned by Denver beer Company, located behind the main bar. I would have done more with those resources and made the bar more of a brewers warehouse. Even though you can see the stiles and mashing tanks and other various equipment, it just doesn’t feel like I’m sitting right in the middle of where they make their highly proclaimed beer. That would be the experience to me.

            One thing that I do enjoy is how the  entire east wall is made up of glass in tract doors which can be raised to open up their patio. Not something to use as we just got 10 inches of snow and it is 22°F outside but something to come back and experience. I’ll bet the place really gets going on a Friday night during the summer, not at 2pm on a Sunday afternoon.

            I had for my first beer their “Graham Cracker Porter” ($5 for a 16 oz.).  Me being someone who really enjoys beer but knowing that I do NOT like Indian Pale Ales, went for something new, and unique. To me, all IPA’s taste the same so it’s better if I just avoid them.  As described on the Denver Beer Co. website,

Like a campfire in a glass, this robust beauty has seductive notes of vanilla, smoked cedar, and mulling spices on the nose.  A dark pour with mild lacing, she is a rollercoaster of lush chocolate and fig fruits diving into a semi-dry finish of toast and biscuit.  5.6% ABV.

First off, I love that they refer to their beer as a female. For me, it makes this inanimate object into something I have to respect and get to know. Second, I really don’t like when beers and wines guide you with what it smells and tastes like. To me, it becomes misleading and you trick yourself into thinking that’s what you’re smelling and tasting.

            For me, it smelled like a mixture of smoke from our woodstove which we use to heat our house and water back home in Michigan. And also smelled like molasses. It looked like microwaved maple syrup and was pitch black, had no head and bubbled, in one spot in the entire glass. It had a thick, rich viscosity which danced on your taste buds the same that the smells did in your nose and stayed there for a long while.

            Now, Denver Beer Co. only had soft pretzels to order, which were $5. I read online that they often times had food trucks there. Bistro Colorado just happened to be there. One of the coolest things I saw was how it was a partnership between Denver Beer Co. and the food trucks that come in. They had an actual server working from the food truck to go outside to get your order, take your order, take your payment and clear your table. I had their BICO burger which in all honesty was one of the best burgers I have ever had. Not the best but close. The bun was the perfect mix of soft and sturdy while the meat was tender, juicy and greasy, and all flavors were balanced. I only wish it had pickles. The service was awesome for it being only one man serving the entire bar.

            Overall, the whole experience at DBC was simply amazing. I can’t remember when I went into a place with such moderate expectations and had them exceeded. I didn’t even mind that the band was playing way to loud and I could hardly talk to my friends though they did play some bitchen music. Very John Denver meets Fleetwood Mac and the Lumineers. Given the chance though, I will return to Bistro Colorado to sample more of their food.

2 Beers: $10

Burger: $10

Benihana: The Birthday Tradition continues.

(Because I met people a promised I would)

            It has finally come to an end. Birthday season for the school year is finally over. Not to say I don’t enjoy them, I do. However, birthday’s kind of bleed you dry throughout the year. Well, it was Rocky Roads’ Birthday and as a time honored tradition amongst our refrigerator cooler of friends, we go to Benihana’s for some relatively authentic food. But let’s be honest, it’s a show and the performance is just better when you’ve had some sake.

            So here we are, another year later, celebrating a friend’s birthday, deciding what rolls to get, who sits where, and having to share a hibachi grill with some other cooler of ice cream that we do not know. Awkward. Enter server, who has her parts memorized and over rehearsed. Very lack luster and without emotion. “Anyone celebrating a birthday?”, she says non-chalantley. Both Ashley and a person of the other group hide in a brief moment of shame, and excitement, or perhaps anticipation and embarrassment as their friends make a large hoopla of their birthdays.

Charles Buckel, the middle man separating our two groups, R&D Manager for The Sherwin-Williams Company based out of Ohio, knew just how to break the ice. Passing the porcelain, off white half egg shell of sake to Ashley, who really just wanted her wine, had to decline thus transferring the liability to Rasha. Charles, host to a business dinner, seemed a bit tense and drained of energy, However, I must stress just how hard he was working to keep his energy level up in order to keep everyone on a night high as it was reaching 9:30 pm.

In all honesty, it’s not that the food was bad, but after you’ve seen the same exact routine, which is performed at so many play houses, I mean restaurants, across the country, it turns into your favorite movie. A once a year type thing. I had the Chicken Yakisoba noodles and a tangerine margarita. Of course, by the time you’ve had some sushi, the shrimp, a bowl of rice, and about 7 glasses of water to keep you sober so you can drive, you really are not very hungry by the time you reach Act III. Although, in case you were wondering, this entry really has nothing to do with the food. I really enjoyed my food but don’t have much to say other than it is just a source of sustenance.  I would much rather find a dirty hole in the wall owned by two Asian-American immigrants who have built their life around a restaurant rather than a company owned dinner theater.

SIDE NOTE: I am in no way a racist, however, our cook was Hispanic.

At any rate, we enjoyed our meal but talking with Charles was my highlight of the evening. Actually, his whole party was from Ohio and being someone from Michigan who lived 15 minutes, and having family in Ohio, gave us great conversation. Of course, we exchange our places of origin. I don’t really expect anyone to know my hometown as it is only 1 square mile, home to 1,000 people.  Low and behold, they knew right where I was from, and some have ate and drank at Ray’s Tavern, voted best burger in the United States by USA Today; an accomplishment almost as old as Ray’s itself but still true none the less in my eyes.

Now, dining with a group of business adults was a little uncomfortable for me as we really wanted to let loose, joke and drink, but it must have been just as hard for them to sit with some college students who are obviously trying to condone ourselves in a civilized manner as they were there on business. A play within a play if you will. Me, having a huge ass canon T3i switching lenses all night trying to get some really cool shots of food being cooked, I’m sure, was also moderately a distraction. Charles being the liaison for his party to ours, inquired about said camera. It was very exciting to tell them about my food blog, even if it is just starting out but by the end of the night, we exchanged information and I gained some new followers.

I think one of the best parts of the evening was when we left, and we gossiped about them. Truly, nothing nasty was said and we talked about how fun it was to sit with a bunch of business professionals and feel like equals by the end of the night. Good food, something to bitch about, something to relate on, and alcohol to spark a conversation. That’s what Benihana’s is about. That is the formula for great conversation.