The Inspector General: Ming’s Wok, Carmel, IN
February 22nd, 2012 § 2 Comments
This is the first of a new series I’m calling The Inspector General, where I go in search of the best General Tso’s Chicken, and I’m starting with the first of 2 Chinese joints in the Indy area whose Tso’s I consider top of the class, 5-star Generals: Ming’s Wok in Carmel, IN. (The other is Niasa Pan-Asian Cafe in Fountain Square. Stay tuned.)
Since this is the first post, let’s get into some history a la Wikipedia:
General Tso’s chicken is a sweet and spicy, deep-fried chicken dish that is popularly served in North American Chinese restaurants. The dish was unknown in China and other lands home to the Chinese diaspora before it was introduced by chefs returning from the United States. The dish is named after General Tso Tsung-tang, or Zuo Zongtang, a Qing dynasty general and statesman, although this connection is tenuous. He is said to have enjoyed it, and perhaps helped create a dish, but there are no recorded recipes. The real roots of the dish lie in the post 1949 exodus of chefs to the United States. The dish is reported to have been introduced to New York City in the early 1970s as an example of Hunan cooking, though it is not typical of Hunanese cuisine, which is traditionally very spicy and rarely sweet. [...]
Traditionally, the dish is made with dark meat chicken such as legs or thighs; however, many higher-end Chinese restaurants use boneless skinless breast meat…Traditional basic ingredients include: Sauce: soy sauce, rice wine, rice wine vinegar, sugar, cornstarch, dried red chili peppers (whole), garlic, MSG. batter/breading: egg, cornstarch. dish: Broccoli, meat (cubed).
So what are we looking for here?
We’re looking for a good sweet/tangy balance with a bit of spice, and I personally like the broccoli garnish for a little bit of veggies. I like a Tso’s that doesn’t turn into a clump of gross in my stomach, that tastes fresh and bright and isn’t a syrupy mess of consistency.
As a baseline Tso’s, Ming’s Wok delivers exactly that, and matched with their pork fried rice, it’s an easy 5-star ringer. Snag the lunch combo for $4.95, or get the dinner combo with some crab rangoon if you’re feeling Carmel-rich.
Meatless Peanut Butter Cookies
February 20th, 2012 § 1 Comment
Adapted from La Dolce Vegan! by Sarah Kramer
Sometimes I feel bad for my vegan pals. It’s like they’ve become so accustomed to having to defend their food that no matter how delicious a dish might be, whenever they inform their non-vegan friends, family, or co-workers that it’s vegan, they seem to automatically to follow up with, “But it doesn’t taste vegan,” as though anything without meat or animal in it is worthless.
To prove that’s not the case, I decided to leave the pulled pork out of this peanut butter cookie recipe, and instead of an egg, I snagged some Ener-G egg replacer, which is basically potato starch and some proteiny stuff that when you mix with water and bake it, it acts mostly like an egg. You can find it in the baking aisle.
| What You’ll Need | How Much |
|---|---|
| vegan margarine, room temperature | 1/2 c |
| peanut butter | 3/4 c |
| sugar | 1 c |
| egg replacer | to equal 1 egg |
| water | 3 T |
| flour | 2 c |
| salt | 1/4 t |
| baking soda | 3/4 t |
What You’ll Do
1) Preheat the oven to 350F.
2) In a medium bowl, cream together margarine, peanut butter, sugar, egg replacer, and water until smooth.
3) Stir in the flour, salt, and baking soda until well mixed. Add another tablespoon of water if the dough seems a bit dry.
4) Roll dough into balls, put them on a cookie sheet*, and flatten them with a fork. Feel free to do that classic cross-hatch thing or pentagrams or whatever you want, really. (Britt said she used to add a bit of sass to them by dipping the fork in some sugar between each pressing.)
5) Bake the cookies on the center rack for 8-10 minutes, or 10-12 if you’re like me and roll some fatty cookies.
6) Let them cool (or not) and put them in your face, naturally.
Makes 15-20 cookies, depending on the size of your balls.
*Do yourself a favor and leave that non-stick coated bakeware on the curb for the trash man. Get you some good old-fashioned aluminum bakeware. For cookie sheets, I recommend that Air Bake kind. That shit’s for real.
A Bucket of Links
February 17th, 2012 § Leave a Comment
I don’t have a lot of time today unfortunately so I’m going to just have to settle for a link bucket post of rad action that’s happened this week:
I had a couple poems published this week:
“How to Hunt a Glacier” at Punchnel’s
“Shake Ya Ass” at Everyday Genius (Collabo bromance poem with the Dean Young to my Tony Hoagland, Tyler Gobble)
This person loves cookies and typography and is baking cookie typefaces. (HT: Jim at Down the Road)
Before we went to Oregon, my ma-in-law informed us that we are related to the makers of Moonstruck Chocolate. We completely failed to take advantage of this familiar relation while we were out there, but it just popped up on oh, ladycakes as her favorite chocolate ever. Coming from a gal who admittedly spends $80/month on fancy chocolates, that’s a hell of an endorsement.
This gorgeous conversion chart at Chasing Delicious. (HT: Rebecca at Bake & Brew)
Back to the grind. Love you; don’t change.
La Magie Bakery, or If You’re a Free American, The Magic Bakery
February 15th, 2012 § 2 Comments
La Magie Bakery was the first place on vacation that took my pants off. Or, knocked my socks off. Or, whatever the hell that phrase is. We went there our first night in Bend, Oregon after chowing on some Soba Noodles, a rather decent Asian place that I wish existed in Indy.
Look at how shiny and new their cafe is.
La Magie is a brand-spanking-new establishment in downtown Bend — quite literally only 10-days old when we walked in the door. The lady behind the counter was regaling us with tales about the chef who had studied in France under some world renowned baker and so on: things other more reputable food bloggers would have probably taken notes on. But I couldn’t stop slobbering all over myself staring at the desserts cooler.
It was pretty well picked through by the time we got there for post-dinner dessert, but I managed to snag a slice of white chocolate and strawberry cake that had chunks of strawberry in the frosting between the layers and good God man! Britt got a brownie that even she couldn’t finish, it was so rich and had the density of a Greek god. (Are those dense? I’m assuming they were.)
Before we left that first night, the counter lady gave us some free samples of a delicious samosa, a curry puff pastry that was [insert drooling sound here], and a croissant that I saved for breakfast the next morning with a little Nutella. I’ve never had a better croissant in my life.
We went back a few days later with the excuse that I needed to shoot some photos, but really, I just wanted more La Magie.
Counter lady remembered us and was excited to see us back, saw me shooting a bunch of photos like a douche and asked if I worked for a publication. Even after I admitted that, “No, I’m just a dude with a 5 week old food blog,” she still offered to stage something for me. But, I declined because evidently I have this poor self-image thing where I don’t think I’m worth the time to actually ask someone stage something for me to photograph.
But I got a couple other decent shots, like this shot of an apple crumb cake and some brioche that we bought for breakfast the next day:
And this shot of a pastry cream swan thing that is just fucking adorable, amirite?
Only in a French bakery.
Counter lady was excited that I wanted to blog about the store, and I thought, “You’re really sweet, and my blog kind of isn’t, so I hope if you find my blog, you appreciate how much I love your store and don’t mind the fuck word.”
Lastly, from what my brother-in-law says, there’s a really high turn over rate of shops like that in Bend, so if you live in, around, or plan to visit Bend anytime soon, you had better fucking go to La Magie, because I want it to still be there the next time I visit. If you don’t, and if it is gone when I return, you are to blame, and I will fight you so hard you will die.
A Grilled Cheese for the Stubborn Lactose Intolerant
February 13th, 2012 § 11 Comments
Well, I am unfortunately back from vacation, and I have tons of stuff to tell you about how awesome the Pacific Northwest is, but before I do that there are photos to process and notes to sort through and souvenirs to distribute and yadda yadda.
Actually. I didn’t take notes. I was on vacation. But there is shit to do before I can let you in on all the highlights and kick ass places I found to put food in my face. You can count on it, but for now, you’ll just have to settle for this gnarly grilled cheese recipe.
A couple months ago I found out I was lactose intolerant. Evidently, your belly is not meant to be in a near constant state of gurgling and fart-development. I did not know this. But my wife*, after 2 years of dealing with me and my gastric acrobatics, finally said, “That shit’s not right.”
What this means is when I sit down to any sort of meal where dairy is involved, I don’t fuck around. I make it count. If I’m drinking a glass of milk, it better be frothy cold and delicious. If I’m eating a pizza, the pepperoni better be pungent and plenty.
And you bet your ass, if I’m eating a grilled cheese sandwich, I’m not settling for some Kraft singles on Wonder Bread. No. Here is how I do.
*Cute Valentine’s Day themed note since tomorrow is the day: The first time I ever made these grilled cheese sandwiches, it was for the first V-Day Britt and I ever spent together. D’aaaawwwwwww!
Grilled Lactose Sandwich
A sandwich worthy of the lactose bomb.
| What You’ll Need | How Much |
|---|---|
| Rustic Italian pane | 8 slices, 3/4″ thick |
| extra virgin olive oil | 1/4 c |
| smoked gouda, shredded | 1/2 c |
| Gruyere, shredded | 1/2 c |
| sharp cheddar, shredded | 1/2 c. |
| Pecorino Romano, shredded | 1/4 c |
| fresh cracked pepper | 1 t |
| dried oregano | 1 t |
| dried thyme | 1 t |
| onion powder | 1/2 t |
| garlic powder | 1/2 t |
What You’ll Do
1) In a bowl, grate together the gouda, gruyere, cheddar, and Pecorino Romano. Add the pepper, oregano, thyme, onion powder, and garlic powder. Mix evenly.
2) Brush the olive oil on the slices of Italian pane.
3) In a grill pan over medium heat, put a slice of Pane oil-side down, and cover with 1/4 of the cheese mixture.
4) Cap it with another slice, oil-side up. Cook about 5 minutes, until you get good grill marks and cheese begins to melt, and flip. Cook another 5′ish minutes.
5) Remove to cutting board, cut that shit in half, plate it up, and put it in your face.
Should feed 4 faces.
Pro-tip: If you can fit all 4 sandwiches on your grill pan, good for you. I can only fit about 2. Either way, never let a grill cheese sandwich sit for too long flat on its side. The steam condensed between the sandwich and your plate will turn that side into a soggy, soft piece of shit. Cut the sandwich in half and stand it up in a tepee or something. Get creative. Just please, for the love of all things holy, don’t let the sandwich soggify.
Your Fix While I’m Away
February 6th, 2012 § 1 Comment
I’m on vacation this week in Oregon spending time with Britt’s sister’s family in Bend, and meeting some pals in Portland for a couple days. So no posts from me this week, but I thought you could use some reading material while I’m away. Pay attention, because there will be a quiz. And, I think maybe the winner will get cookies or something.
I’ve only really been caring about food blogging for like, a month now. I’ve poked around a bit at different food blogs, and these 7 blogs are some of the cream I’ve scraped off the top.
The Bake and Brew: Rebecca is one of the 2 people who encouraged/inspired me to start Put It In Your Face. She loves carbs in both the solid and liquid physical forms. She bakes amazing things and drinks beer while doing so.
plums in the icebox: Carrie is the other of the 2 encouragers/inspirers of PIIYF. Her blog is a combination food and literature blog, and she also contributes recipes to Hello, Giggles which is rad. She has a fixation with the American Southwest and quinoa, to a possibly clinical degree.
oh, ladycakes: This is one of the first food blogs beyond B&B and plums that I started following. Her design is impeccable and her photos bright and shining. She does a lot of gluten-free stuff if you’re into that sort of thing, and she’s not afraid to talk about poop.
What Katie Ate: I just started following this one last week, and from what I’ve seen she doesn’t post recipes, just incredible, incredible photography of food. Since I’m primarily deficient in my food photog skills, following some of the best food pornographers seems the best way to learn.
Souvlaki For the Soul: Another blog I started following for the food porn, and found he also has some pretty fantastic looking recipes, mostly of the Grecian variety. Greek fare is another culinary area of deficiency, so I’m excited to try some of the recipes here to learn how the Greeks do what they do.
Wrightfood: Another pornographer, and this guy seems to be a lighting expert, which is what I need. He doesn’t confine himself to that standard “bright sunlight everything white and gleaming” theme you see pretty much everywhere in food photography, which I appreciate. He takes those photos, sure, but he also knows when to draw out some good, rich, deep color. I’m saying he’s versatile, which is what I want to be.
spoon fork bacon: Lastly, but the complete opposite of least, is spoon fork bacon which I quite literally started following today. This blog is so good, from the design to the photography to the recipes. It is perhaps the pinnacle of the food blogs I’ve seen. (HT: Jennifer Olmstead, who I wish I could have design my blog)
* * *
See you next week. Expect Bend/Portland themed posts when I return.
This Bourbon Can Vote | Elijah Craig 18 Year Single Barrel
February 2nd, 2012 § 5 Comments
Look at them legs! *wolf whistle*
Before I get into talking about this Craig, I have to say something.
I went in search of some other reviews to see what others had to say about this bourbon. A number of reviewers compared it to leather, like this was a good thing. I have to admit, I’m not well-versed on bourbon reviews, but leather? Really? Is this a common thing in bourbon reviews? What’s so appetizing about leather that you’d compare a bourbon to it? It wasn’t just the nose they were comparing; I could almost understand that. But, the taste, “notes of leather,” as though they regularly chew on the shit.
Do you know what leather is? It’s the skin of a dead animal that has been scraped free of hair and fat, dowsed in preservative chemicals, and left out to dry. Does that sound delicious to you? Of course not. Stop comparing good bourbon to that, fuckers!
So, consider this the vegan-friendly review:
Ah, nice warm lamplight. This bourbon didn't spend 18 years hanging out in a barrel so some shitty photographer could make it look like weak tea.
At 18 years and $40, this Elijah Craig 18 Year Single Barrel takes the title for both the oldest and most expensive bourbon I’ve ever sipped. If this bourbon were a person, he could legally vote, smoke, and buy porn. This Elijah seems a little too sophisticated for porn, though I suppose I could see him picking up an issue of Playboy if his favorite writer had a story in it.
People say it’s complex, and okay. I personally think bourbon has 4 aspects: caramel, oak, vanilla, and burn. Complexity comes from how these aspects are balanced.
These other reviews start talking about hints of this and overtones of that, but you know what? Bourbon is corn, wheat, (maybe rye), and malted barley — cooked, distilled, and aged in charred oak. When fuckers start talking about “notes of citrus” and “chocolate spiciness,” they’re talking out their asses. It’s just not there. Don’t get me wrong, I get figurative language. But I say, if you’re going to go figurative, live it up, go all the way.
If you get your nose in there, you’re going to smell the memories of freshly cut wood in your dad’s workshop. There are the standard whiffs in here — caramel and oak and I guess what some say is vanilla — but there are also campfire ashes and your grandpa’s aftershave.
My first finger of the stuff, I went bush league and trickled a few drips of water in like I normally do, and it left me less than thrilled. It killed any caramel I might’ve tasted otherwise and left me with something that had all the complexities of an oak board.
Don’t do that.
Drink it neat, no water. Pour it, let it get some air under it for a few minutes, and tip it in your face. You’re going to taste the sweetness at first, let your guard down, and then you’re gonna get tongue-punched by an oak barrel. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. It swallows warm and smooth like you’d expect from an 18 year old.
Overall, a great bourbon if you treat it right. I don’t have the $40 to drop on it every time I want a new bottle, but it’s well worth it if you do. It’s a great contrast to the sweeter, less complex Backbone Uncut, and I almost feel like a legit bourbon drinker having them both in my cabinet right now.
Bring Me Four Fried Chickens and a Coke.
January 31st, 2012 § 2 Comments
I know, I know. It’s Super Bowl week, and I live in this year’s host city, so I’m supposed to be posting about Bowl party nacho cheese recipes and buffalo wings and how to make a bread bowl in the shape of a football, but you know what? I don’t give a shit about the Super Bowl. What I do give a shit about, is fried chicken. And I am not alone.
Friends and fellow co-workers, Jim Grey and Sherrel Harris, have embarked upon a mighty quest to find the best damn chicken in the state:
Sherrel visited a restaurant in southeastern Indiana that specialized in fried chicken and visited my office the next day extolling the virtues of this restaurant’s peppery chicken coating. He said, “We ought to go down there one day, you and me.” I said, “I hear there’s a tour you can make through southeastern Indiana, eating fried chicken at a bunch of different restaurants.” He said, “We ought to go all over the state eating fried chicken!” I said, “Yeah!” We began to scheme, and the Indiana Fried Chicken Tour was born.
Jim has been documenting their IFCT over at his blog Down the Road, and the latest installment is The Iron Skillet. No, not that Iron Skillet, with the truck drivers and sting of petrol at the nose, but a classy Iron Skillet that’s been putting out the poultry since 1956.
Jim talks about marinades and brines, different kinds of breading like batter and dredging. The dude knows what he’s talking about when it comes to the country fry. And they get off the beaten path, too, as evident by their visit to this fine establishment: Kountry Kitchen.
So if you live in Indiana and harbor a hard-on for the fried chicken, Jim’s IFCT travelogue is a must for you to follow. Hit it.
What a Crock (Chicken) Pot Pie
January 29th, 2012 § 2 Comments
My wife, God bless her, has somehow managed to stay sane over the past 2+ years of our marriage. She deals with my jackassery and poety-moodswings and even rewards me sometimes by cooking me something awesome, like this chicken crock pot pie she made a few weeks ago.
* * *
What a Crock (Chicken) Pot Pie
By: Brittany “The Wife” Newgent
I brought in the mail last week and was excited our magazines had come. Christopher could soon tell me about particles being teleported even farther and dream of ways we could develop human teleportation and put airlines completely out of business. I could soon teach him how to make five pieces of clothing in to twenty different outfits, which would of course mean I needed to go buy five new pieces of clothing.
I handed Christopher Popular Science. He spent maybe five minutes skimming the contents before he picked up Real Simple and proceeded to read every recipe it contained (with a kid in a candy shop smile). I started a grocery list as he was drooling over images of food like they were centerfolds. When I asked what to add to the list he said the following:
| What You’ll Need | How Much |
|---|---|
| crimini mushrooms, quartered | 8 oz |
| carrots, cut into 1″ pieces | 4 |
| medium onion, chopped | 1 |
| flour | 1/2 c |
| fresh thyme | 2 sprigs |
| bay leaf | 1 leaf |
| boneless, skinless chicken breasts | 1 1/2 lbs. |
| salt & fresh cracked pepper | to taste |
| puff pastry or biscuits | 1 sheet or tube |
| frozen peas | 1 c |
| fresh green beans | 1 c |
| water | 1/2 c |
| heavy cream | 1/2 c |
When he informed me it was a crock pot meal I was eager to try it, as we have 2 crock pots and have used each once since we’ve had the same last name.
Quick tips
1. If you want to throw this in a pot before you leave your home, prep everything the night before, or be prepared to be about 30 minutes late to wherever you’re going.
2. If you are awesome and love the taste of fresh, crisp green beans, use fresh rather than frozen. However, the green beans go in the pot for a short amount of time toward the end of the process along with the peas and cream. I chose to cut fresh green beans into 1-inch pieces and put them in the freezer while the rest of the ingredients cooked.
3. Add your favorite herbs and spices (such as rosemary and garlic) to give this dish a bit more of a kick. (Ed. note: we did think the recipe as prepared to Real Simple standards was a bit bland, and suggest giving this dish a rightful kick to the face with a spice boot.)
What You’ll Do
1. In a 4-6 quart slow cooker, mix together the mushrooms, carrots, onion, flour, thyme, bay leaf, and 1/2 cup water. Place the chicken boobs on top and season with salt and pepper.
2. Cover and cook until the vegetables look like a delicious mush and the chicken easily breaks apart. I set the cooker on low for about 7 hours. If you can’t wait all day, set it on high and cook for about 4 hours.
3. About 30 minutes before you plan to put this in your face, begin to make the biscuits or pastries.
4. Once the chicken is tender (about 10 minutes before you put this in your face) break the chicken into small pieces with a fork. Add the peas, green beans, and cream, and mix it well. Add more salt and pepper if desired. Cover and let cook for about 10 minutes.
5. Place the chicken and mush in/on your favorite dish (it deserves at least that) along with as many biscuits as you damn well please.
6. Put it in your face!
I Have a Book Coming Out | The Fullness of Everything
January 27th, 2012 § Leave a Comment
Not a cookbook, as you might expect from a dude with a food blog, but like a book-book. Or, part of a book-book.
This Book Has Teeth, the Better to Eat You With
The Fullness of Everything is a gathering of chapbooks by Tyler Gobble, Brian Oliu, and myself. I couldn’t be more excited to share a binding with these dudes. Tyler is an ecstatically good poet, Brian single-handedly made me believe in what lyric essays could be, and on top of all that, it’s being released on Roxane Gay’s Tiny Hardcore Press.
If you just want to take my word for it, the book is available now for pre-order and will be released in April 2012. (If you’re thinking about getting it, please pre-order. Publishers love pre-orders, and they especially love authors who can generate the pre-orders!)
But if you need more, here is all that back cover promo copy stuff:
In Christopher Newgent’s The Fullness of Everything, characters move about lives startled by the uncertainties of loss. A woman recognizes her own falling after witnessing a suicide jumper flash by her office window; a man afraid to rekindle a fiery alcoholism lives only on soups and vegetables; the sound of snow falling becomes the small feet of miscarried children. In these 12 elegant fictions, the most trivial things come to mean everything and nothing in light of the one certainty we all take for granted.
Tyler Gobble’s collection of poems, Goodness Is a Fine Thing to Chase, shouts amongst the whispers, striving to become the hollering itself. A baby burns in a meth lab explosion and we’re begged to put it out. The pets we hold are making us too comfortable and do we even know how we plan to deal with it? These poems reach out and want to talk, but no, they won’t calm down first.
Come See For Yourself is a series of stories about each county of Brian Oliu’s home state of New Jersey. Each piece tries to encompass the strangeness of the Garden State by retelling the stories of both the author and those who call New Jersey home. From the Jersey Shore to the Delaware Water Gap to the Ironbound to the Pine Barrens, the odd landscapes provide a backdrop for Oliu’s quest to pinpoint what makes a place that can be so foreign feel like home.
