Author: christine

Army & Lou’s

422 E. 75th St. (at King Drive)

WWJD for dinner on Easter? Clearly he’d be hungry after the previous week and he’d head to the South Side for soul food, I’m pretty sure. This evening, a group of friends rolled down to Chatham to the oldest black-owned restaurant in the Midwest. We were greeted with super-friendly service. With little prompting, we all opted for their all-you-can-eat Sunday dinner buffet.

What I ate: fried catfish, ham, fried chicken, slow-roasted duck, mashed potatoes, collard greens, crowder peas, macaroni and cheese, corn muffin, mixed vegetables, sweet potato pie, blackberry cobbler.

What I didn’t eat: herb roasted chicken, beef, sweet potatoes, mixed greens, leg of lamb, turkey, cornbread dressing, gravy, cake, salad bar.

The buffet was $22.95 per person. Apologies for the lack of commentary but I’m still in a food coma. I don’t even remember driving home.

Crust

2056 W. Division (at Hoyne)

After a day trip to Madison and back, we weren’t up for much dinner nor much of a scene. An easy walk through our neighborhood led to Crust, which features organic pizzas made in a wood-fired oven. We sat at the bar and split an arugula and avocado salad and my favorite pie, Italian sausage with freshly shaved fennel on top. Watched the beginning of the Duke game. Talked about cartoons and our future. Drank a giant bottle of hoppy Three Floyds Brian Boru Old Irish Red (the Husband) and 2 glasses of a lovely, silky Chilean red (that would be me). Total was $58.57.

Chicago French Market

131 N. Clinton (at Randolph)

For tonight’s dinner, we strolled from office locales to meet friends and their 2 younguns at the city’s attempt to “bring back the European-inspired marketplace.” Located at the Ogilvie train station, the French Market consists of a hodge-podge of items to consume onsite as well as lots of ingredients to take home. Also square pegs like homemade soap and woven baskets. The meat, cheese, and fish vendors displayed some great-looking stuff. Live lobsters in a tank entertained the kids. One of my favorite places, Pastoral, has a prime spot by the front door. But as a whole, it felt like the gastronomic version of a buddy cop film: suburban mall food court is paired with an urban gourmet shoppe and as long as they stick together, they’ll be given one hell of a deal on rent.

We camped at a table and took turns hunting and gathering before returning to the den with food for the kids.

From Frietkoten Belgian Fries & Beer: Frites with curry mayo and blue cheese mayo. But no beer, as the liquor license is still snarled in the city’s red tape machine. The allure of frites+beer after work had been the focus of my afternoon. Le sigh.

From Necessity Baking Co.: Tsoureki (Easter egg loaf shaped like a wreath with dyed, hard-boiled eggs as garnish). Turns out an entire hard-boiled egg can cram nicely into the mouth of an 18-month-old.

From Bowl Square: Bibimbap with beef. Also “some kind of really spicy French dressing.”

From Chundy’s Bistro: Curried chicken and saffron rice. Also a discussion about being allergic to chicken.

From FLiP Crepes: Buckwheat crepes filled with brie, fig jam, onion confit, walnuts and spinach. Also samples of Nutella-filled crepes that were for the chocolate tour group, not us. Completely busted by chocolate smeared lips and fingers. This would be the adults, not the kids.

From Vanille: A chocolate eclair. Also a perfect-looking raspberry macaron, which fit into an 18-month-old’s mouth in a single bite.

From Delightful Pastries: An small cake loafette, decorated like an Easter egg. Crumb survey revealed that the 3-year-old was a big fan.

Overall, everything was pretty tasty. And the company was excellent, with ample entertainment by adorable children. I estimate that we spent about $15 a person (not including the kids).

Gilt Bar

230 W. Kinzie (at Franklin)

We went here because it’s down the block from the Husband’s office. Chill vibe, fancy rustic look, good music. Truly nice service. PBR on the menu, served in a “Hoffman” which was explained as a large chalice; the restaurant received a shipment of Hoffmans by mistake and decided to go for it. We however, decided on Two Brothers Domaine Du Paige and a nice viognier.

We started with two outstanding salads: For me, a gorgeous plate full of celeriac, yellow beets, red beets, carrots, fennel—all thinly shaved and dressed with a delicate Champagne vinaigrette. For the Husband, mixed greens and shallot dressing. The menu is a la carte, so we ordered a side of roasted cauliflower. Husband had a Croque Madame with a fried egg on top. He’s a sucker for the fried egg. Two big ol seared scallops on top of housemade papardelle in a simple, barely-there  butter and lemon and celery sauce. Completely delicious; $95.89 included 2 drinks a piece.

[Side bar: What’s with the annoying trend of waiters “explaining” the menu? This seems to happen at every place that’s opened in the past 2 years. Do we look like rubes who’ve never been to a restaurant before? It’s a menu. This is a restaurant. Unless the restaurant does something really crazy like “kill it yourself” or “we’re anti-utensil” it seems the explanation part could be eliminated.]

The kitchen is closed.

Seriously. At least for April. The Husband has come up with a brilliant plan: dinner out every night for a month.

Of course I agreed: going out to dinner is my absolute favorite thing to do. Our fridge is empty. The freezer is bare, save for emergency staples (coffee, Girl Scout cookies, vodka).

We compiled a long list of places to explore. Some in the neighborhood, most not. Sushi, soul food, burgers, pierogi, steaks, tamales, fried chicken, seafood, noodles, pizza, bacon-wrapped dates stuffed with chorizo. And hopefully a salad or two. Can’t wait!

Check back for nightly reports on our progress and tips on treating culinary withdrawal.

When a coworker—falling prey to my blatant popularity-boosting campaign—stopped by my desk for a second handful of these cookies and asked for the recipe, I said I wouldn’t share. I said I couldn’t share. I still have fantasies about restarting the Busby Bakes machine and you just can’t go around giving away the company secrets, right?

Please. These are oatmeal cookies, made gloriously unhealthy through a range of add-ins. The basic recipe comes straight from the Quaker box lid (albeit with the replacement of white sugar with more brown sugar). The big secret behind the deliciousness? Reader, I encourage you to go for the bacon.

Oatmeal Cookies

1/2# unsalted butter at room temp

1 1/2 c. brown sugar

2 eggs

1 T. vanilla

1 1/2 c. flour

3 c. rolled oats (not the “quick” kind)

1 t. baking soda

1 t. salt

Additions, as desired:

1/2 c. chopped bacon (fry it first, people)

1/2 c. chopped dried fruit. Prunes, raisins, apricots, cherries all work well. If you’re feeling boozy, soak the fruit in whiskey. Or bourbon.

1 c. toasted chopped nuts. I lean toward pecans, but walnuts work.

1/2 c. shredded coconut. Unsweetened preferred. Or toast the sweetened angelic kind.

1/4 c. finely chopped white chocolate (if you like a very sweet cookie)

Haul out the stand mixer and use the paddle attachment. Cream the butter and sugar until really smooth. Add eggs, one at a time, beating well. Mix in vanilla. Sift together the flour, soda, and salt. Add to the dough, and mix until just barely combined. Mix in oats and additional ingredients. Chill dough for at least an hour; overnight yields the best flavor mingling. I like to use a little portion scoop to form the dough, but a teaspoon works, too. Bake at 325F for 8-10 minutes, on parchment lined sheets, until pale golden. Let the cookies sit for a minute before delivering to a cooling rack. Makes about 3 dozen. Store in an airtight container. Share with the worthy.

Seems that the Husband and I have been eating a lot of pizza lately. Yeah, yeah, I know—Chicago is so famous for deep dish. Which I don’t like.at.all. Too doughy and cheesy and saucy [yawn]. I’m a thin crust kinda gal, preferably wood-fired. This spring, we’ve enjoyed the following pies from places mostly in or around our neighborhood, at least we can walk to/from our indulgence:

The mushroom and spinach pizza at Crust.

The white pizza at Coalfire.

The potato rosemary at Pizza Metro.

The arugula and proscuitto-topped pizza at Enoteca Roma:

The delicious New Haven white clam pizza at Piece:

And my favorite, the mozzarella di bufala with arugula pizza at Spacca Napoli.

We make it at home, too, using a pizza stone that came with the Husband. Latest house favorite is cherry tomato, shallot (sautéd with sherry vinegar), bacon, and fresh mozz.

For the dough I’ve been using a recipe from the New York Times Magazine, substituting half of the white flour with whole wheat. Seems to work well with the bacon for some reason. Easy for a quick dinner, as you make the dough ahead of time. If you get your oven and pizza stone hot enough, you’ll bake up a great pie. Serve a salad on the side to make up for all that cheese…and bacon.

Pizza Dough

1 1/2 c flour
1 1/2 c whole wheat flour
3/4 teaspoon active dry yeast
2 1/4 t kosher salt
1 1/2 c cold water
3 T olive oil

Make the dough in the morning to count on pizza for dinner. In a stand mixer using the paddle attachment, mix the flours, yeast, salt until combined. Add the water and oil and mix at low speed until the dough is rough and shaggy. Increase the speed to medium and beat for about 8 minutes. The dough should be just shy of forming a ball.

Scrape dough out onto a heavily-floured surface. Let rest for 10 minutes. Separate into 2 pieces and form into a smooth ball. Place each ball in an oiled bowl, dust with flour, and cover with a towel or loosely drape with plastic wrap. Let dough rise until doubled in size, about 3 hours.

Punch down the dough and place into two freezer bags. Chill in the fridge for at least an hour and up to one day before use. I usually freeze the second ball of dough for another night’s dinner.

Makes enough for two 10- to 12-inch pizzas.

I think these are my absolute favorite, just as delicious as a plain old cookie can be. The recipe comes from the venerable French baker, Lionel PoilÃ¥ne, via Dorie Greenspan’s Paris Sweets cookbook. Not too sweet, nothing fancy, just simple buttery perfection. Perfect with afternoon coffee, tea, or hot chocolate. And the name? Apparently when he was a child M. PoilÃ¥ne’s grandmother would call to him in a scolding tone, only to dispense his “punishment” in the form of this cookie. Who says grannies can’t be made of both sugar and spice?

Greenspan’s recipe calls for using a food processor. But the preface describes how M. PoilÃ¥ne made the dough:  by hand on the counter. I’ve made these both ways; both methods yield perfect results. But I prefer the hands-on approach. Something about the tactile experience of feeling the dough transform from goopy mass to velvety dough has me feeling that I’m actually making something. You know what I mean?

Punitions

5 oz unsalted butter, at room temp
generous 1/2 c sugar
1 large egg, at room temp
2 c flour
pinch of salt

Food Processor Method:

Process the butter in the food processor until smooth. Scrape down the sides and add the sugar. Process until smooth. Scrape down the sides and add the egg. Process until smooth. Scrape down the sides and add the flour and salt. PULSE until the dough looks like streusel crumbs.

Hands-On Method:

Pour the flour and salt onto the counter (I usually use a sheet of parchment to cut down on the scrubbing afterward). Push it into a ring so there’s a saucer-sized well in the middle. Pour the sugar into the well. Add the egg to the sugar, and using your fingertips, work the egg into the sugar til it’s a smooth, pale yellow mass. Add the butter, squeezing it into the egg and sugar. When combined, start gently working in the flour. No kneading here, you want to work the dough as little as possible. You’re finished when all of the flour is only just worked into the dough.

Shaping, Chilling, Rolling, Baking:

Shape the dough into 2 disks. Wrap each in plastic wrap and chill until firm, 3-4 hours or up to 2 days. Or wrap really well and freeze. When you’re ready to get your bake on, roll the dough on a lightly floured surface to 1/4-inch thickness. Cut with a 2-inch round fluted biscuit cutter. Bake on parchment-lined cookie sheets until pale golden, about 8 minutes. If the scraps get soft, gather them up and pop them in the freezer to chill before re-rolling and cutting. The colder the dough, the better the cookies will hold their shape.

Makes about 4 dozen cookies.

For variety, the cookies can be sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar before baking. Rolled a little thinner, they can be sandwiched with melted chocolate or raspberry jam after baking.

The Husband and I spent the past weekend in Viroqua, Wisconsin with his family.  Twas beautiful, rural, hilly, beery.

Saturday morning we went to the farmer’s market. Small but some good finds among the baskets and beaded what-not. And a vibrant, friendly vibe. Bored Amish kids hung in the buggy while mom and dad sold deep, dark, grade B maple syrup. Chatty, pink-cheeked farmers sold seedlings, rhubarb, and spring onions. I scooped up a couple of jars of picked veg: baby brussel sprouts and asparagus.

Dinner on Saturday night was outstanding local prime rib at the
Olde Town Inn in Westby. We felt a bit guilty upon leaving the restaurant when we noticed a herd of cows across the road. Um…thanks?

On our way home, we stopped in New Glarus, a super Swiss Miss-ed town. Seriously, even the Citgo looked like a chalet. But we were there for the beer. New Glarus Brewing Company makes delicious, small-batch craft brews that aren’t available outside of Cheesehead territory. So we stocked up. Those Old Style tall boys in the fridge had better make room.

Last Sunday, the Husband and I met some friends for a hands-on cooking class. Our mission was to learn the secrets of chef George’s house-made sausage…and to end the humiliation suffered at a grillfest some 10 months back. At a barbeque last summer, the Husband and I showed up with “fresh” sausage from Whole Foods. Our hosts smacked down that yuppie nonsense with a batch of sausages so delicious, so porky, so incredible that even the guys at Bari would have approved.

Turns out, the encased perfection came from August. A small neighborhood grocery, August is the kind of place that will grind the beef for your hamburgers. Their fish selection is small but incredibly fresh. Stacks of cookbooks are on hand to lend inspiration. And they make a nightly dinner special for the hurried or the harried. And sausage, did I mention the delicious sausage?

Here’s a quick version of the class, which was really fun. Chef George made sure we knew the why behind the what, which I always find extremely helpful.

Step One: Chop up a cold Berkshire pork shoulder. If I recall correctly, 30% fat is desirable. Feed the chunks through a meat grinder.

Step Two: Divide the meat in half. To one half, add chopped oyster mushroom and fresh herbs; to the other, blanched leeks and hot pepper. Salt and pepper to both. Combine with your hands. Keep the meat mix cold.

Step Three: Stuff into casings. Casings being the small intestine of a pig. Don’t think it was the same one who gave the shoulder. Mercifully, the cleaning and rinsing had been done by the butcher.

Step Four: Cook each type of sausage two ways: Brown in a hot pan, then cook through in a hot oven.

And steam (never, ever boil) then brown in a pan.

A BYOB dinner at the counter followed, where despite our best efforts we reached no consensus on the best sausage nor the best cooking method. Will have to revisit when we cook up the links we brought home. And again upon purchasing more from August. To all of our friends with grills: this summer, we promise to show up with the good stuff!