Sunday, September 30, 2007

Sinatra and '30 Dogs 30 Days' Gets His Name


When I lived in Washington, DC, it seemed my wife and I knew every extant Muslim in town. Tons of Moroccans, Persians, Turks, Palestinians, Tunisians, Pakistanis, and some whose nationalities escape me right now. I was brought up Jewish and my wife Catholic, but it always amazed me that for all the intense global hatred among various religious groups, we all seemed to get along pretty well in our little enclave of Adams Morgan, a heterogeneous semi-melting pot with a lot of booze-soaked clubs and restaurants to smooth out any rough edges. There were also many Eritreans, Ethiopians, and of course Salvadorans, due to the conflicts in those countries leading to mass exoduses. And Nigerians, Sudanese, Somalians. Russians and Serbs, Albanians, Greeks-I could go on.
But the oddest pairing always seemed to be the Muslims and the Jew (Me). Why was it so easy to get along here, to take our friendships for granted, almost, when events taking place thousands of miles away put our brothers and sisters, sometimes literally, at each other's throats? It's hard to know what makes the hate that people have for each other intensify and grow until the only possible outcome is murder; and I suppose in our innocence, we cling to the hope that that could never happen to our friendships here in the US. 'Those crazy Jews and Palestinians over there!', I remember a friend of mine saying, and me agreeing. 'Why can't they get along like we do here? It's so easy!'
But enough of the ethnic harmony. Today we're here for something a little more important than world peace. It begins some time ago, when I bet someone I could eat nothing but thirty different hot dogs in thirty days, and never get bored. In fact, that's how I got my name. Standing with the other cab drivers at the bar in Flushing, Queens, across the street from the Main-Ro hack line, waiting for fares at one in the morning, ordering cold draft beers and 'singles', or a Frank Sinatra 'fully dressed', which was a hot dog with everything on it (everything in those days meant mustard and sauerkraut-ah, those were simpler times). But sometimes the frankfurter ain't what it should be, and those days are the worst days of all. For there is no emptier feeling, and nothing sadder really, than a bad hot dog.


[Halal left, Kosher right]
So what about the conflict between these two cultures and their hot dogs, and how would it play out on the plate? I lined up the Hebrew National brand Kosher Beef Frank, and the Al Safa brand Halal Weiner, imported from Canada. I chose the accoutrements, and I chose wisely. There are Heinz English Baked Beans in Tomato Sauce, cole slaw, sauerkraut (warmed up first), dill pickle spears, Gulden's brown mustard, and homemade pickled radishes. No buns, which keeps the focus squarely on the meat in the dog. Each package was about $4, although the Al Safas weigh in at a full pound, whereas the Hebrew Nationals are just 12 ounces. The Kosher dogs were red, almost too red, but on the other hand, their Halal brothers were a worrisome pinkish-gray. I broiled two of each, and waited for the hissing and crackling.
In my side-by-side tasting, I have to say, without prejudice, that the Kosher dog is beefy and juicy in its snappy casing, whereas the Halal dog is almost gamy, perhaps from some added smoke-flavor, and the casing doesn't hold up too well under the broiler, either, maybe from a too-high water content. It's not science, and I did eat end up eating all four dogs, but on this day, the Hebrews won. All I can say is, Salaam Aleykum.

Thursday, September 27, 2007

Critiquing Restaurants-Part II of an Infinite Part Series on What's Wrong With Miami's Food Scene-May I See The Wine List-Did You?

A well-written restaurant review for me is like a pile of prettily-wrapped Christmas presents, waiting to be opened under the tree. For someone who likes food and dining out, the anticipation can be exhilarating, especially if the review is about a favorite spot, an obscure find, or an exciting new place where you just scored a coveted reservation for Saturday night, perhaps a special occasion, and can't wait to be dazzled. But then you start to read the review, and disappointment and confusion start to set in. First, why no mention of the wine list, other than a perfunctory sentence or two about the general makeup of the list, such as, 'mostly French, with the rest from the US, Spain, Argentina, and Chile.' No shit? I think everyone knows the difference between a $22 piece of chicken, and a $35 piece of lobster. But how many people really know the difference between a $40 bottle and an $80 bottle? In my experience, almost nobody. Even if you put the bottles in front of them, side by side, very few could tell which was the more expensive bottle, and why (do you know which are the good years for Barolo?). People may generally know their one or two favorites, but that's usually about it. But you'll get no guidance from your gentle reviewer. To quote a recent review of an Italian restaurant, “There are plenty of pleasing [bottles] among the many Italian and American selections....” How is that helpful? Could you recommend maybe a couple of these 'pleasing' bottles? Maybe an inexpensive red, a white, and maybe a nice pricey bottle, for those who want to spend a little more? Like a decently priced Barolo?
Another review I just read mentions the Wine Spectator Award of Excellence received by a restaurant, but not one wine or any prices are even mentioned! Although the reviewer does mention 'small vineyards' and 'distinctive, hard-to-find appellations'. Like what? Does that have any meaning to anyone? And this review was of a French restaurant, where the wines ought to be of paramount importance. How hard is it to spend a few minutes examining the list? Of course, that assumes knowledge on the part of the reviewer in the first place, but even if you're clueless about wine, why not do five minutes of research and pick out some good bottles? For example, I might mention the Puligny Montrachet 1er cru Folatieres Domaine Paul Pernot, which at $132 on this particular restaurant's list, is less than double the retail price, which is a fair and gentle markup (even though the reviewer claims that '...prices are marked up as usual.', a completely unhelpful phrase, and really, there is no 'usual' markup anymore). If you were looking for a nice splurge, there it is, and that took about five minutes of checking. Remember, at an expensive dinner, your beverages could eat up as much as one-third to one-half of your check, so some guidance is really important.
(And by the way, what is a Wine Spectator Award of Excellence, you might ask? To quote everyone's favorite wine bible, it is: “Our basic award, for lists that offer a well-chosen selection of quality producers, along with a thematic match to the menu in both price and style. Typically, these lists offer at least 100 selections.” And how many restaurants receive this prestigious award, you may ask? Well, there are currently over 3000 restaurants who have received this 'award', and for a non-refundable fee of $250, you too may be eligible, as long as you have a fax number. I wonder how many places get turned down? With over 4000 restaurants comprising the three levels of award winners, you do the math. Works out pretty well for everyone, especially Marvin Shanken, publisher of WS.)
So basically you're left to do your own research before you go out, because you don't want to spend twenty minutes at your table examining the wine list like it's written in Braille, and then end up with a mediocre, expensive bottle, anyway. First rule of reviewing: your job is to reveal, not conceal.
...And that's just the wine.
COMING UP-The Name of the Game is Ass-Kissing, Name-Dropping, and Freebies.

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Exclusive BBQ Ribs and Chicken Legs


I've never been inside The House of Bargains Thrift Store at 100 NE 79th St, but I have spent some time in their parking lot, inhaling the aromas of the smoky ribs and barbecued chicken laid out on two big grills. The large man with the big tongs has arrived at 7AM to begin the smoking, and the ribs are ready at 10:30. The chicken legs have been marinating for a while, too, so when you're ready for lunch, it's ready for you. Sometimes the smokerman's not there, sometimes he's there until late afternoon or evening, and sometimes he's there but he's cooking for a 'private' event. But usually, on Thursdays and Fridays, you can smell the meat from blocks away, either smoking or being crisped up on the grill. The rib 'sandwich' is $5, chicken is $3, or 2/$5. The homemade hot sauce isn't too hot, so get the 'hot', not the mild, but not too much. The ribs are meaty and smoky, and so is the chicken, and you don't want a ladleful of sauce drowning the tender meat. Try this guy's ribs on a Thursday or Friday, and I guarantee you will be thinking about them all next week. And of course your fingers will taste good all afternoon. (By the way, for those not familiar with this kind of 'sandwich', feel free to toss aside the slices of white bread that are piled on top of the meat after mopping up any excess sauce, you're not required to eat them. Or, if you like,you can just use them as napkins.)



Tuesday, September 25, 2007

It's Not Always Asses and Ears


While I'm all about the 'variety' cuts of cow, the unsung slow-cooked bits that go unmentioned in polite company, there is something to be said about the fine and dandy top cuts, the steaks, that don't need much preparation or imagination, just a smoking hot cast-iron skillet, one minute per side, and a knife. This cut is a Mishima Ranch Wagyu sirloin, $18/lb., easily the best steak I've ever eaten. And if you look at it this way-there's enough for two, at 18 ounces, or about $20, there is no faster dinner imaginable, and the pleasure lasts and lasts. In that sense, it's almost economical. This is not a dry-aged, complex, or tangy/minerally tasting steak, but a subtle expression of the essence of well-bred and well-fed cattle. Tell your friends you've eaten the best. Available at Norman Brothers, located between the Snapper Creek and Don Shula Expressways (pure Miami, baby).


Jiggly


Marbley

One Minute per side-no more!

Crusted on the outside,
very rare on the inside