ReLocavore: Redefining "local"

Back to Wisconsin, my cheesehead friends

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Wisconsin and Korbel Brandy

Wet and hankerin’ for a drink.

Sam, Pidi and I had finished a hike through the New Hampshire woods, gazing into holes that were formerly people’s cellars, now abandoned and full of leaves and garbage. The rain was monotonous and, even with our fancy “waterproof” fabrics, we were soaked to the bone and hankerin’ for a warm drink. Cider with brandy was just the ticket. We went to the liquor store to pickup a bottle of Korbel brandy.

New Hampshire is one of those states that maintains state-owned liquor stores. Beer and wine can be sold at many venues, but if you want something stronger, you’ll have to head for the handful of state-owned liquor stores. Conveniently for us, the Hanover-area liquor store is next door to the COOP food store. Some poor souls must drive some distance (in the winter!) to get to a liquor store. This explains why ice fishing isn’t as popular here.

We encountered a problem at the liquor store. There was no Korbel Brandy. Anywhere. In all of New Hampshire. The NH Liquor and Wine Outlets’ list of available American Brandies. (Note the absence of Korbel Brandy.) This is a point of difference between Wisconsin and New Hampshire.

In Wisconsin, we call it “milk.”

In Wisconsin, Korbel gets its own aisle at Woodman’s grocery. (Note for New Hampshireans, Woodmans is like Dan & Whit’s gets hit with the gamma bomb that hit Bruce Banner to turn him into The Hulk. Only Woodman’s sells a ton of liquor and Dan & Whit’s can’t, per New Hampshire state law.) High consumption of Korbel brandy is tied to the Brandy Old Fashioned, sour, a regional cocktail that is as popular in Wisconsin as cheese curds and the Packers. An Old Fashioned is “a bar spoon of sugar, three dashes of Angostura bitters, a lightly muddled slice of orange, a slug of brandy, lots and lots of ice, a splash of soda and, of course, a bright red maraschino cherry, often with an extra dose of the fluorescent juice that they swim in.” Supposedly, Germans from Wisconsin got a taste of Korbel brandy at the 1893 World’s Fair in Chicago and have been swigging it down ever since (Minnich 2006, p13).

We live in a state with no Korbel Brandy. This is uncomfortable. Like socks that are a size too large.

We bought a bottle of E&J California Brandy and had some hot cider with brandy. I haven’t tested an old-fashioned with it. It’s a little too horrific to contemplate.

We need to find us a bottle of Korbel Brandy. Then we will have a Wisconsin cocktail party and serve Brandy Old Fashioneds, kringle from Racine and one goddamn fabulous cheese board.

Note “NH” is not on the list.

How can we get some Korbel in New Hampshire? Maybe if our Wisconsin friends hear our pleas and will illegally ship us some Korbel Brandy. We can also venture across the river to Vermont and see if we’ll have any success at their liquor stores. Korbel maintains an online web store. But will only ship to a handful of states. We also have the ability to make a “request” for specific wines or liquors from the New Hampshire Liquor Commission, but we have to order at least a case.


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“Caselot sale” means “Shop like you’re at Sam’s Club.”

(Not Sam.)

This weekend was the caselot sale at the COOP.

Don’t worry, I had no idea what a “caselot” was until a few days ago. Fair reader, let me educate you. From what I can tell, “caselot” is the shortened form of “curse a lot” and is a nor’eastern term for an event that makes community members want to exercise their constitutional gun rights. Parking in Boston may be another caselot.

So the caselot sale at the COOP meant that Sam got to goto the COOP with a grocery order form, drop a hundred bucks, and come home with pantry staples to help us last through the winter. He was able to score sizable discounts on canned corn, beans, and tomatoes (to make up for my current home-canning deficiency), frozen fruit (that should have been frozen back in the summer in Wisconsin, but alas…) cheap pasta, laundry soap for a year, and a winter’s larder of toilet paper and paper towels.

For me, “caselot sale” meant standing in line behind a woman ordering 50 cases of paper towels. Seriously. 50 CASES of paper towels. AND… to increase my caselotting (curse-a-lotting?) she was in the 12 items or less lane, which was creatively decorated with bright green signs saying “NO CASELOT ORDERS.” They couldn’t have been more emphatic if they had hung piñatas and ordered custom neon signs.

On top of flagrant violation of the “NO CASELOT ORDERS” and 12 ITEMS OR LESS rules, apparently when one decides to come to the coop and order more than $1,000 in goods, the manager must punch some code into the register to allow the transaction to proceed. First, note that 50 cases of paper towels costs more than $1,000, and second, note the additional party that has become involved.

Gun ownership statistics from the Nashua (NH) Telegraph.

(As a sidenote, the need for authorization for an order over $1,000 was surprising because many things in New Hampshire are less onerous. For example, anybody can check out beer or wine at the store, not just someone over 18 or 21 years old.)

Just for a bit of math, I wanted to know the square foot volume of 50 cases of paper towels. One “case” of paper towels (6 rolls, 10″ x 16″ x 12″) takes up about 1.1 cubic feet, so 50 cases of paper towels will take up more than 50 cubic feet. How in the hell was this woman getting 50 cases of paper towels home (or where ever there was a need for 50 cases of paper towels)? A 2013 Honda Odyssey minivan has about 90 cubic feet of space after you take out the last two rows of seats. I guess this is why I drive a compact sedan.

So, after the caselot sale, we have less-empty larder and freezer, fruits and vegetables for the winter, and 1/50th of a Honda Odyssey’s load of paper towels.


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This week in Breakfast: Mickey’s Roadside Cafe

You know it’s “roadside” since I’m standing in the road to take this photograph.

This week’s breakfast at Mickey’s Roadside Cafe in Enfield, NH  (link plays music… sorry) was the opposite of last week’s experience: good food and bad service.

For a moment I want to rant about the new maps in iOS6. I am an “eager upgrader”-I sit at my computer obsessively pressing reload until I can get the latest iOS updates AS SOON AS they are made available. I really like the feeling of having a shared experience with other people across the world where we all are downloading and installing the same piece of software. The point being – Like other iOS users, I am finding the world around me is a new place, when seen through the eyes of the map software on my phone. Now, my phone will talk to me and tell me where to go, but I no longer have any confidence that where I’m directed reflects realty. It was my quick wits that kept me from going the wrong way down a one-way street in Hanover, and I still can’t convince the map software that our home address is anywhere near proximate to our physical location.

Back to breakfast…

We got in the car and made an attempt to goto Enfield, NH, about 10 miles southeast of Hanover, to a place called Mickey’s Roadside Cafe. It had received good ratings from the Yelpers, and we had got a good review from a former waitress while in line at The Fort last week. Phone navigation was failing us, so we resorted to old-fashioned maps to get to Enfield.

We didn’t have to wait for a table to eat breakfast at 9:30 on Sunday morning. This can say either good or bad things about a restaurant. Too many people means breakfast is likely to be good, but very rushed. Too few people means breakfast may be new to the restaurant or downright bad. Or, it means the Packers are playing at 10am and nobody wants to watch at a restaurant that doesn’t serve alcohol. Sam and I try a bunch of different times to eat at a restaurant until we find the ideal time where we can sneak into a table or first-come-first-serve counter space, then watch from our vantage while all of the less-experienced and knowledgeable customers arrive on the hour or the half and wait in line for tables. While not waiting for breakfast at Mickey’s Roadside Cafe was a plus, we didn’t get the feeling of moral superiority for being able to get to the restaurant at the perfect time to avoid a crowd. (Hubbard ave Diner in Middleton. Either 8:25 or 8:50am. Lazy Janes: be in line when they open at 9:30.)

 

I’m not making this name up.

Since the Patriots (no comment) weren’t playing until 4, I suspect breakfast was new to this restaurant, because the food was pretty darn good. Sam had hash and eggs with homefries and sourdough toast. He was quiet while eating, so that meant it was good. The potatoes needed a bit more cooking from my vantage point. I got to have “redneck benedict” – english muffin, sausage patty, poached egg with sausage gravy – with a side of tater tots. The gravy was good. It was peppery and had small pieces of sausage, and was made with milk. I was very happy. With tater tots.

Sam’s breakfast.

The service, on the other hand, was mediocre. Sunday breakfast servers (and Saturday too) need to act as if they are just as desperate and hungry as the patrons. Stopping to drink coffee, to nibble a piece of toast, to chit-chat with other staff – these are all the actions of the fed and caffeinated. Breakfast patrons DESPISE the fed and caffeinated until they themselves are fed and caffeinated. Waitresses should be efficient and expedient, not ask unnecessary questions, and deliver caffeine as soon, or before, butts hit the seats. I really feel for Sunday breakfast wait staff and I always tip well, even for bad service. Their job is hard. They must ease the transition from hungered to fed, and to navigate a slew of breakfast option questions that are unheard of in other meals. (How would you like your eggs: scrambled, poached, sunny side up, over easy, over hard, egg beaters, hard-boiled, coddled? What type of toast: white, wheat, rye, sourdough, cinnamon raisin? Potatoes: homefries, hashbrowns, mashed, tater tots, fries?)

Redneck Benedict. With Tater Tots. A side of parsley.

The service at Mickey’s Roadside Cafe made two sins: they made people wait for caffeine (including Sam and I and the table across from us) and they chit-chatted among themselves while sipping coffee. I hate to damn someone for such minor sins, but at the time, I was HUNGRY, so minor things get exaggerated. In retrospect, the service was on-par with a restaurant that doesn’t often serve breakfast beginning to serve breakfast. The wait staff have yet to develop the ESP necessary to be good at breakfast. By the end, though Sam and I were both well-fed and didn’t feel rushed. The bill was $23 and some change, right on par with our expectations for what we “should” pay for breakfast.

We’re quickly running out of affordable ($$) breakfast joints, so we’ll be moving onto the more pricy options in the next few weeks. I’m sure there will be a carving station and lobster at breakfast in the upcoming weeks. We’ll see…

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Previous Breakfasts
Lou’s in Hanover
The Fort in Lebanon


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Tofu with Sweet Chili Sauce and Coconut Rice

I don’t quite remember where I got this recipe, but it was the first time that I bought sweet thai chili sauce. Fool that I am, the first time that I made it I thought sweet Thai chili sauce was sriracha. We almost died from the heat of the recipe. No, you may not substitute sriracha for sweet Thai chili sauce. But if you’d like this dish a little spicier, add some additional chile flakes – like the kind you find at an old-school pizzeria next to the shaker of “parmesan cheese.”

For the Rice:

3 units rice
6 oz coconut milk (whole fat, no cheating)
big pinch of salt

Add ingredients to your rice cooker. Fill to the line with water. Close the lid and press the button. Don’t have a rice cooker? Until you get one, you’ll have to figure out how to make rice yourself. Sorry. Once the rice cooker has done it’s magic, stir the rice to distribute the coconut fat throughout the rice.

For the Tofu with Sweet Chili Sauce:

1/4 cup chicken stock
1/4 cup Asian sweet chili-garlic sauce
2 Tablespoons soy sauce
2 Tablespoons rice wine vinegar
2 Tablespoons ketchup
chile flakes
1 block extra-firm tofu
1 Tablespoon vegetable oil

Cut the tofu into similar-sized pieces. (I typically cut mine to 1″ x 1″ x 1/2″. This gives me two broad surfaces to brown and four smaller sides to ignore. It’s easier than trying to brown all six sides of a 1″ cube of tofu.) Place the tofu on a single layer on paper towels or a flour sack towel. Press between two weights for 10 to 30 minutes. The more water you press out, the easier it will be to brown the tofu.

Whisk together the stock, chili sauce, soy, vinegar and ketchup. Add chile flakes to taste.

Heat oil on medium-high in a nonstick pan. Tofu will stick to anything less. Trust me. Nonstick. Unwrap the tofu from the paper. Once the oil shimmers, place the tofu in a single layer in the pan and brown the bottom side. Shake the pan occasionally to make sure the tofu isn’t sticking to the pan or to each other. Flip all of the pieces over and brown the second side. Once the second side is browned, add the sauce and cover (QUICKLY!) with a lid. When the sauce hits the hot pan it splatters EVERYWHERE… so don’t make this if your mother is coming to visit and you don’t have time to clean little red drops off your white party dress and your white kitchen walls. Reduce the heat down to medium and simmer the sauce until it’s thickened, about 10 minutes. Keep shaking the pan to spread the sauce around the tofu cubes.

Serve the tofu with sauce over coconut rice.


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We finally found the Asian grocery store

Sam and I took a trip into Lebanon into an area that the locals affectionately call, “Little Jersey,” to goto the only Asian grocery in the area. I wasn’t expecting much.

Yipings Asian Market
55 Main St
Lebanon, NH 03784
(603) 928-7267

Like many Asian groceries, this was a small space crammed with shelf-stable foods from a multiplicity of Asiatic nationalities. They seemed especially well-stocked in Thai foods, and they knew to keep the nam pla where it won’t accidentally get broken. I saw lots of brown Chinese condiments all labeled “bean paste,” or “garlic bean paste” or “sweet bean paste.” There were few Japanese items like nori (sushi seaweed wraps), but none of the high-end Japanese foods. I suspect they’re just part of the standard asian foods distributor networks.

Mae Ploy Sweet Thai Chili Sauce

So the whole reason for this trip, to give some background – I spent much of the day on Thursday craving pan-fried dumplings with sweet thai chili sauce.

“Dumplings” are a fantastic food that my college buddy Gene introduced to me. They’re also known as “gyoza” in Japanese, “potstickers,” or “Chinese dumplings.” Basically, they’re a thin skin pleated around a little wad of meat and vegetables, then steamed, boiled, or pan fried. Gene’s mom would send him back to college with an entire marine chest cooler full of frozen dumplings. We would boil entire bags and pig out. In Madison, when I could get dumplings at Woodman’s grocery store or at  Yue Wah, I probably went through 4 or 5 bags a month. Dumplings are one of my favorite breakfasts. Anyone who wants to point out my blatant Locavore hypocrisy is welcome to do so in the comments section.

Thai sweet chili sauce is like “duck” sauce that is at some Chinese restaurants. It’s thick like catsup, not too spicy, and a little fishy-smelling. I finished my last bottle from Yue Wah in Madison about three days before we moved. I couldn’t justify buying a bottle, just to drive it across the country. I don’t like this sauce that much.

But after abstaining for almost 4 weeks, all I could think of was the lovely taste of crispy dumpling skin and Mae Ploy. So, we sought out the Asian Grocery, hoping to find dumplings and sweet chili sauce.

We were able to find three different brands of dumplings, all new to me. I suspect they’re made locally in the big cities like Chicago and Boston and spread out through smaller distribution channels. We also found thai sweet chili sauce, but not my preferred Mae Ploy brand. I think the stuff we got (no English on the label, or else I would give you the name) is a little better than Mae Ploy. It’s thicker and spicier and the sweet is better balanced with fishy.

As for their selection of Japanese goods: I was happy to note that Nishiki rice was $5 less than at the COOP. Yiping’s $19.95. COOP $23.49. I also found bonito (shaved fish used to make clear Japanese soup), wakame (dried seaweed), furikake (a seasoning to put on rice) and ume plums.  I was happy to find mirin, a sweet Japanese rice wine that is a staple of our cookery. Unfortunately, when I got the bottle home and had a taste, it was just glucose syrup. After browsing through my favorite japanese cookbook, I discovered there are two types of mirin – with and without alcohol. We had been buying the type of mirin with alcohol and this new mirin had no alcohol. I’ll have to look harder for “hon mirin.”

Ultimately, though, I am looking forward to going to the Japanese markets in Boston to get my Japanese groceries – those things I’ll NEVER find in a mixed-asian grocery store: freeze-dried tofu, sachimi pepper, yama imo powder (youtube), high-quality ume plums, fresh pickles, Yamasa soy sauce, hot mustard, etc…

But I’ve eaten a bag of dumplings already…


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The price of tea in China

Scrambled eggs (from Dreamfarm) with Ramps.

Back in the day, Sam and I received a dozen eggs a week from Diana Murphy of Dreamfarm in Cross Plains, WI. If I remember, we paid $120 for 24 deliveries, or $5 per dozen eggs. Diana sells a dozen eggs at the Westside Farmers’ Market in Madison for $4.25. I’ve been to her farm on many occasions and I was able to see how she keeps her chickens.

The Madison area also had Phil’s Eggs, that are raised in Forreston, IL, near where I grew up.  I was able to tour their farm in high school and see how they were raising cage-free (but not free range) hens. These eggs were cheaper – If I remember $2.99 per dozen.

Confused about these egg terms? CNN has a guide that explains egg terminology and what’s regulated by USDA and what’s fluff.

So given that we had been noshing on humane eggs, I now have to relearn the market, in order to choose good eggs. I had to go scouting for prices on eggs. We eat a LOT of eggs, usually a dozen a week. Please don’t tell my doctor.

Eggs at the COOP

Eggs at the Norwich Farmers’ Market

I’ll fill in more details about how hens are raised at Echo Hill and On the Edge Farm once I’m able to talk more to the producers.

So we’re paying a premium for farmers’ market eggs. However, that premium may be from smaller production, hence small-scale markups, or else the hens may be kept in better (more expensive) conditions. The big advantage is that I can talk to the chicken farmers at the market and ask them questions about how their chickens are raised. I’m willing to pay a premium for humane chicken treatment, but typically not a premium for organic feed.


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This Week in Breakfast

To continue on our quest for Breakfast (previously) this morning we headed down the hill to The Fort at Exit 18, a truckstop diner just off exit 18 of Interstate 89.

Previous reviews have spoken highly of the hash and the muffins. I also have a fondness for biscuits and gravy, so we tried those too. The muffin was a “morning glory” with carrots, raisins and apples. It had frosting on top… hmm.

We had to wait in line for about 15 minutes for a table. And by “wait in line” I mean stand around in a truckstop convenience mart that is attached to The Fort while chatting with the grey-haired locals who have been eating here regularly since they were our age. I didn’t see many truckers. We bought a copy of the New York Times and browsed the front pages while waiting.

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The best part of breakfast was that we had a waitress with ESP. Her timing was PERFECT on all items. We closed our menus and put them on the table and she apparrated out of thin air to take our order at the precise second the menus touched the table. The instant I had an anxious thought, “When will our breakfast arrive?” she appeared with a muffin. I took the last sip of my coffee and as the cup was about to be placed on the table, she was there! – with a coffee pot to refill my empty mug. I thought to myself, “Did we get the check yet?” and VOILA it appeared on our table. Maybe this was Hogwart’s Truckstop of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It became eerie. But made breakfast really pleasant. Her timing was perfect and we didn’t feel rushed at all, which is important on Sundays.

The food, on the other hand – not as perfect. The muffin, as predicted, was great, but the frosting (yes frosting) was unnecessary. The hash was definitely homemade, and more brisket than potato. I like my hash pretty crispy, so this needed a bit more cooking, and a shake of salt made it more balanced. The biscuits and gravy was weird. First, the sausage came from slices of links, which left little rounds  in the gravy. Second, the biscuits tasted sweet. Seriously. The gravy had separated a little and had lots of visible pepper, but no actual pepper taste. It was also made from chicken stock and milk, not all milk.

So overall, the hash is good, but needs salt. Knock the frosting off your muffin. The service is amazing. The overall breakfast was worth the 15 minute wait.

Other breakfasts have been:

 


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This week in putting things by.

Update: Due to technical difficulties, this post was originally scheduled to go live on Thursday, but I accidentally scheduled it to be posted on Sept 27, 2013. A little late, but here you go. -A

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Sam did some home electric work and got an outlet in our pantry so we could start cooling the chest freezer. After a little room reorganization, we have a functioning pantry. I have no excuse to delay filling it with the summer’s bounty.

Chopped peppers on a cookie sheet lined with plastic wrap. They’re ready to go into the freezer.

Green Bell Peppers. Cost was $2/lb at the Norwich Farmers’ Market from Crossroad Farm in Fairlee, VT. I bought 4 lbs (Pre-processed weight, PPW). Bell peppers I prefer frozen, but some people like to pickle them. Steps: Wash. Chop. Lay on cookie sheets lined with plastic wrap. Freeze for 48 hours. Transfer to pint freezer bags.

Broccoli. $2.75/lb at NFM from Your Farm in Fairlee, VT. 4 lbs PPW. Into the freezer. Steps: Separate stalks from florets. Peel stems. Chop stems. Blanch for 2 min in boiling water. Transfer to sink of ice water. Drain well (Get out the salad spinner!). Portion 2 cups into pint-sized freezer bags. Suck out the air. Stack in the freezer.

One of our favorite PFB tools is a heavy polyester mesh bag. Originally it came with our vacuum cleaner and was intended to hold the attachments. However, it fits really nicely in our enamel water bath canner and we use it as a strainer when blanching vegetables. Ideally, we would have a metal strainer for our water bath canner, but alas, I got the WBC years ago at a garage sale and it didn’t come with a strainer. In my next life…


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There’s a lot of pumpkin beer out here…

Pumpkin beer is a beer fad out here, it seems. All of the local breweries are making one. We saw these six at the COOP.

According to the “history” that was on these websites, pumpkins were more plentiful than barley, so brewers historically turned to pumpkins to get more sugar for their mash. Most of the beers use pumpkin or pumpkin puree, but some of the other breweries just add a pumpkin flavoring. Most of the beers also add cinnamon or clove flavoring.

Sam and I tasted the Pumpkinhead from Smuttynose, supposedly the best-selling of the pumpkin beers. It was an OK ale. That’s as articulate as I get when reviewing beer.

It seems many of the East Coast microbreweries are making a Pumpkin Ale, while Midwest microbreweries are making Oktoberfest. I suspect it stems from the German brewing tradition in the Midwest while Eastern breweries may have a stronger English tradition. Beer Advocate lists 354 different pumpkin ales and 791 Oktoberfest lagers. Unfortunately, I have no quick-and-dirty way to categorize the breweries by geography, or else I’d back up my claims of more pumpkin ale on the east coast with some statistics. I can do that, you know…


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I ate doughnuts for breakfast

Sam and I have to find a new place for breakfast. This is not an easy task.

Ever since I was young, I have went out for breakfast on Sunday mornings. While living with my parents, we would drive to the Sand Burr in Broadhead, WI, or to Lakeside Lounge in Durand, IL. Mom and I would split an order of gravy and biscuits. The Sand Burr had terrible gravy. In college, we got to have luxurious and long breakfasts in the Commons where we could have hot items, eggs to order, waffles and pancakes, cereal and fruit. After a brief hiatus due to poverty, I started going to Hubbard Ave Diner about the time Sam and I were engaged. Every Sunday since Summer 2006, Sam and I have been at the counter around 9 am. We order the same thing every week because our brains aren’t awake enough to make decisions. He has the quiche or the scrambler special. I have veggies benedict with no hollandaise sauce (100 cal PER TABLESPOON!)

So, moving to Hanover, we had a big problem to deal with: Where are we going to eat breakfast on Sundays?

For the first couple of Sundays we were staying at a hotel that had a free hot breakfast every morning, so our breakfast was pre-paid. But, now that we’re in our apartment we suddenly have to ask ourselves on Sunday mornings, “Where are we going?” and, also importantly, “What are we going to eat?”

This Sunday we went to Lou’s, the “breakfast institution” in downtown Hanover. It’s a standard pancake-eggs-potatoes type place, but they emphasize the use of local produce and meats. They have about 15 tables and a counter with first-come-first-served seating. The queue was about 15 people deep, but everyone in line was congenial and talkative. They must have gotten a cup of coffee somehow. Our wait was maybe 10 minutes. The line moved fast.

Their menu was varied and interesting. I typically order of breakfast specials when I’m somewhere I’ve never eaten before, so I got the apple fritters french toast with applesauce. All local apples! Sam ordered an omelet with pears, gorgonzola cheese and leeks that came with potatoes and toast.

So “fritters” apparently means “doughnuts.” I was expecting something like the apple fritters from Greenbush Bakery but instead I got basic fried doughnuts. The “French toast” part was that the doughnuts were cut in halves, dipped in sweet egg, and fried on the griddle. There were THREE of them. Plus some really excellent chunky applesauce that was tart and not too sweet. I don’t know what I was expecting, but whatever this was, it was really good. Pidi and I did a two-hour hike on those calories later in the afternoon.

Next week, I think we’re going to try Lou’s nouveau next-door-neighbor, Market Table or the truckstop down the road, The Fort. Look for a post next Sunday.

Note: this post was composed Saturday, Sept 29, 2012 and backposted to Sept 23, 2012.