If You're Playing With Fryer, You're Going To Get Burned

Our readers around the world may not be familiar with the gastro-economic phenomenon of the $4 supermarket rotisserie chicken. What a blessed life I live, that I can gather up the change under the passenger seat of my 1998 Ford Escort and buy an entire fucking chicken. I mean, this is third world price, people! What has America come to? I blame Obama...

Wait, wait, wait. Wait.

Wait.

If Obama was really responsible for $4 rotisserie chickens, the Democrats wouldn't have lost control of the House of Representatives. Everybody loves rotisserie chicken. Even you vegans secretly love rotisserie chicken - feel free to admit that in the comments section below.

What blows my mind is that I can buy a fully cooked chicken at the supermarket for less than a raw chicken. How is that possible? Cooks cost money. Fire costs money. Those little plastic bags (or trays) that the rotisserie chickens come in cost money. Unless these chickens are being roasted through a charitable donation from the Chubb Group, this goes against basic economics, which means that rotisserie chickens are inherently Communist.

So I bought one. Then I ate half of it. The next day, I had to come up with something to do with the other half. I didn't feel like just eating it off the bone again, so I decided to get creative. How about some BBQ chicken sliders?

First thing's first, gotta pull that chicken apart. A couple of strategic cuts separate the wing, leg and thigh from the rest of the chicken and a skilled blade liberates the breast meat from the carcass. I like to get my hands dirty (or rather, greasy), so I shred the breast meat by hand before chopping up the dark meat. If you decide to try this with the chicken still hot, you're dumb. Let it cool down or you'll burn your hands.



Next, make some sauce. I had some leftover chipotle peppers from a recent batch of chili, so I decided to make a maple chipotle BBQ sauce. This was super easy:

• 1 cup of ketchup
• 1 small can of chipotle peppers in adobo sauce (chop the peppers up very fine)
• 1/4 cup of maple syrup
• a splash of apple cider vinegar
• a splash of worcestershire sauce
• 1 clove of roasted or sauteed garlic (finely chopped)
• a liberal dash of onion powder
• a conservative dash of celery salt
• an independent dash of black pepper

Let that all simmer in a saucepan for about 15-20 minutes. It'll be spicy, but the maple syrup will give you a nice sweet balance. Add the pulled chicken and bring it all up to safe temperature.



Hmm, what's going to go well with a BBQ chicken sandwich? How about some seasoned potato wedges? But I don't have a deep fryer in my kitchen! No problem, because I'm smart. First, let's cut some potatoes into wedges. I did 4 potatoes, which was way too many...



I could just fry these as-is and they'd probably turn out OK, but if I'm going to create a makeshift deep fryer in my house, then I'm going to go all out here. That means breading and seasoning these little bastards. I went with a traditional three-step breading process: flour, egg/milk wash, seasoning blend. My seasonings were a 60/40 mix of flour and Italian bread crumbs, plus dried parsley, onion powder, garlic powder, sea salt and black pepper. I also had someone with lovelier hands than mine pop them through the stations while I tended to the danger grease.



OK, all joking aside: don't try this at home unless you know what you're doing. Delicious potato wedges are not worth the risk of starting a grease fire and burning your home to a crisp. If you are going to try this without an actually deep fryer (or FryDaddy), you need the following:

• A deep pot (I used a small stock pot)
• A metal scoop with either a wire mesh or slots to allow grease to pass through (DO NOT USE PLASTIC, DUMMY)
• A bin to put the cooked food into
  
• An oil thermometer (this is really, really important)
• An oil with a high smoke point like peanut oil

Put about an inch-and-a-half of oil in the pot and turn on the heat. Mount the oil thermometer on the pot so that the probe end is in the oil (without touching the bottom of the pot). You're looking for an oil temperature of 350 degrees, which if you have a good stove and a good pot, you'll get to pretty quickly. Pay close attention to the oil temperature: too low and your food won't cook correctly, too hot and it will start to smoke, which will make your food taste bad.

Cook your wedges about 8-10 at a time. You don't want to overload the fryer because you won't get oil coverage over all the wedges. Use the scoop to grab the uncooked wedges and dip them in the oil. DO NOT DROP THEM IN, OR THE OIL WILL SPLATTER AND YOU WILL GET BURNT! If your wedges are thin enough, you probably only need to cook them between 60-90 seconds to get them golden brown and crunchy on the outside and fully cooked on the inside. Use the scoop to carefully remove the wedges from the fryer and put them in the bin. Sprinkle some salt on those immediately after taking them out of the fryer: potatoes accept seasoning more readily when hot. Repeat these small batches until the oil gets "dirty." If you're making a lot, you may have to strain or change the oil.



NEVER, EVER PUT FROZEN OR WET FOOD INTO HOT GREASE! IT WILL SPLATTER AND YOU WILL GET FUCKED UP! You probably should have a fire extinguisher nearby, because seriously, dude, I do not trust you.

Before I started, I turned my oven on to 350 degrees because I thought I might have to keep the wedges warm and I knew I would have to toast my slider buns. Once I had fried all the wedges, I threw them in the oven for about 4-5 minutes while I toasted the buns. Once the buns were done, it was all over but the plating.



This is the part where we put in the disclaimer about not being responsible for your loss of skin, property or life because you were a careless fuckhead. Seriously, go buy a FryDaddy or just let somebody else deep fry your food for you. Or don't deep fry anything at all, because you may not have heard, but it's not healthy at all...

Realizing Your Dreams: My Night at Hot Sauce Williams

Anyone who has lived in Cleveland or at least visited should know what I mean when I say: “Hot Sauce Williams.”

A rambling blue-ish/grey-ish/purple-ish building with hot pink trim, Hot Sauce Williams stands out amongst all the drab grey and brown of East Cleveland, a beacon of warmth and hominess.

Now, I don’t think I can honestly remember when or why Hot Sauce Williams came into my consciousness, but I do know that it’s been a running joke amongst my friends and me every time we drive past it. “Is today the day we’re going to Hot Sauce Williams?” or “I’m hungry, how about some Hot Sauce Williams?” and so on. I’m not sure if it’s the paint job, the ridiculous(ly awesome!) name, or a combination, but something about this restaurant has stuck with me for the last six or seven years. In fact, I was beginning to think it would never actually happen, that Hot Sauce Williams would forever be an unreached destination.

That seemed true until about a week-and-a-half ago. After long days at work Nicole and I were hungry and tired but couldn’t decide on what to have for dinner when someone suggested HSW. We laughed a little at first, of course, but then we realized: this was our time. The hot sauce would be ours.

So, we bundled up and made the short trek down Carnegie Avenue to the purple and pink building at 7815. We were excited as we pulled up to the drive-thru and tried our best to scan the outdoor menu—which has seen much better days. When a voice crackled through the speaker asking for our order we were still unsure and asked for another minute to decide. Finally ready we announced our order to the speaker but received no reply. After waiting another minute we decided that there was no one on the other end and decided to venture inside to place our orders in person.

The bright, slightly gaudy exterior of HSW belies the humble interior. A few mix-n-matched tables and chairs in the center of the dining room, ringed by booths, and topped with e-z-kleen laminated tablecloths. Nothing fancy and little atmosphere, rather like dining in someone’s oversized dining room. Or rather the lack of atmosphere is the atmosphere. There is nothing pretentious or cloying about HSW, just good food, fast and simple.

After another quick glance at the menu we placed our orders again: two rib dinners and a rib tip sandwich. Unfortunately they were out of the rib tips for the evening so Nicole withdrew her order, but we went ahead with the orders for Morgan and me. A rib dinner at HSW comes with six ribs, fries, coleslaw and white bread. Not being a fan of slaw I opted to trade mine for macaroni and cheese. Morgan made the same choice and also swapped her fries for mashed potatoes and gravy.

Everything was placed into HSW’s custom carry-out boxes, sauced, and wrapped before we headed for home. The first sign that this was a good choice: the two dinners in the bag were heavy. Once home the boxes were opened and distributed. My first bite was from the mac-n-cheese. A standard mac-n-cheese offering, HSW’s is elbow macaroni in a delicious homemade cheese sauce, then baked with a bread crumb topping. Just like mom would make. HSW’s mac-n-cheese is hearty, creamy, and absolutely delicious. A must for any visit. Next I tried a few fries which had been slathered in HSW’s signature sauce. A decent fry I’m sure, mine were definitely limp from the drive home while swimming in sauce. But my first taste of their sauce was a great surprise. A little sweet, a little spicy, and just a bit of sour on the finish; a basic, delicious barbeque sauce.

The ribs at HSW are serious, a full spare rib, or a St. Louis cut with the rib tip in tact. When I ordered the dinner I wondered if six would be enough, but when I saw them I knew everything was going to be alright. Compared to the baby back ribs served at most places, the spare rib provides tougher, darker, but more flavorful meat. But the ribs are well marinated so they’re tender and come off the bone easily, and while I’m not usually a fan of picking around in gristle, the tips provide a few more bites of tender, succulent meat.

Over all a tasty, filling, messy (!) experience—if don’t need a shower after ribs, you’re eating them wrong. Nothing surprising or new, just great ribs and sides at a great price, I don’t think we spent more than $15 on two meals and I was perfectly full afterwards. Hot Sauce Williams isn’t reinventing the rib or anything profound, but they know what they’re doing and they’re doing it right. And if ribs aren’t your thing I’m told their fried chicken is pretty amazing, as are the pork chops and their massive sausages and hot dogs. If you need a BBQ fix in Cleveland, look no further than Hot Sauce Williams!

TurkeyFest '09

I've been away from the blog for a little while, so I decided to come back with something truly stupendous...

Shortly after moving to Columbus five years ago, I started cooking a Thanksgiving dinner for my friends. The inaugural event happened to fall on the same day as the Ohio State vs. Michigan football game, which would ensure that only the most devoted of my friends would attend. That game almost always falls on the Saturday before Thanksgiving, which also thinned out the crowd, as many wondered why they should get their turkey fix now, when they can just have mom's turkey five days later. The solution to raise interest in the plan was to set a food theme for the party; in this case, it was "Warped" Thanksgiving: Cajun-pepper roasted turkey, green-bean-casserole-stuffed mushrooms, sweet potato fries, cranberry chutney... you get the idea. Dinner was a great success, and nobody left my house hungry.

The next year's theme was "Indian (not Indian)" Thanksgiving: Tandoori turkeys (two, as word of mouth spread from the year before), fried sweet potatoes with yogurt-coconut sauce, potato curry, cranberry chutney (again), and some other stuff with names I can't remember. This all went over quite well, and was actually my first real foray into Indian cooking. I have never used so much garam masala and turmeric in my life.

Then, for a couple of years nothing happened. I made a relatively traditional turkey dinner last year for my housemates, but didn't make a big deal out of it. I desperately needed to make a big deal out of something this year, so I hatched a plan to cook three turkeys: one deep-fried in peanut oil (a staple at my father's Thanksgiving), one smoked with apple wood (because, c'mon, smoked turkey is delicious), and one Cajun-pepper roasted like the very first bird I ever made. And so, TurkeyFest '09 was born...



Early in the morning, I set up the smoker and the deep fryer. I planned to have dinner served at 4pm, so I had to awake at the asscrack of dawn to get that smoker fired up. Luckily, she's an electric, which decreases the cooking time. 6 hours for a 13-pound bird worked perfectly.


225 degrees, the magic number for authentic barbecue. Slow cooking over a long period of time makes meat tender and moist.


Here's what the smoked bird looked like at about 5 hours in. Yum!

Giving some of the attendees a peek (and a whiff) at the roaster.

This bastard is stuffed to the gills with butter, hot peppers, onions, and garlic, and rubbed down with cayenne pepper and salt. The pan drippings from this bird are damn hot!

The oil is just about ready: 325 degrees is the ideal fryer temp when the bird hits the grease. Peanut oil is the ideal cooking oil because of its high flash point (450 degrees) and the subtle nutty flavor it imparts into the bird.

Safety first! So many idiots have seriously burned themselves, or set buildings on fire trying to deep fry a turkey. Always set up at least 10 feet from any building and make sure anything that goes in the oil is dry. Hot oil doesn't react well to cold water or ice.

There they are, my finished prizes. Roasted at the top, deep fried in the middle, smoked on the bottom. Note the cow cutting board...

Celebration on a job well done, except... aw fuck, I have to carve these beautiful bitches.

The entire time I spent carving the turkeys, I had people picking off the platters. I usually remind people that I have a knife and they should step the fuck back, but I had too much work to do.

All that was left: 3 lonely carcasses.

Happy Thanksgiving! Hope your mom's turkeys are this good... (but I doubt it.)

Road Trip: Eating and Drinking in Rochester, New York

Nicole and I recently made our way to Rochester, New York, to see fiery haired chanteuse, Neko Case. Of course coffee and junk food were consumed on the way; it was a road trip after all, but nothing terribly remarkable. Although, I will say that McDonald’s ice cream is actually much better than I remember it being, same goes for their caramel sauce.
http://www.visitrochester.com/

Anyways, after the 4 hour journey, give or take, and a brief respite at the hotel, we ventured out in search of food. Whereas we could’ve roamed the streets of Rochester for hours looking for some tasty vittles, Nicole had planned things out ahead of time and we made a b-line for Dinosaur Barbeque!

After parking, mostly just on-street parking, or in our case on-bridge, we were greeted by numerous motorcycles roaring off into the night, a loud, but by no means dubious, indicator of what we were in for. As we got closer and the motorcycle exhaust dissipated we could smell the smoke. If you’re ever headed into a barbeque establishment and you can’t smell smoke of some sort, run. But the smoke was pungent at Dinosaur Barbeque so we ventured on.

Entering the building we were met by a large room of boisterous guests eating, drinking, and enjoying their evening. There was classic rock and Americana on the stereo, and a couple dozen beers on tap. So far, so good. We ordered a pitcher of the house brew, Dino-Ape I believe it was called. A light refreshing ale that tasted like, well, beer. A beer that tastes like beer doesn’t seem that strange but if you consider what is mostly available at bars and restaurants these days beer flavored beer is a bit of an anomaly. Choices are usually between rich, heavy micro-brews and bland, watery macro-brews. While the former certainly has a time and place, that latter leaves little choice when it comes to something tasty and simple. Luckily Dinosaur Barbeque has seen to it that their delicious `que is complemented by a tasty but not overwhelming brew.

Finally seated, my biggest complaint with D.BBQ was the fact that while waiting to be seated it was incredibly difficult to hear the names called over the PA, with music playing and people behaving as if they were at a backyard barbeque it’s hard to hear your name being called, some of those vibrating pager/coasters might be a better caller here, but I digress. In a table with menu in had we poured over the options. As a BBQ joint Dinosaur’s has struck a balance between too-many and too-few options. A few platters of their specialties, a selection of sandwiches, a bevy of burgers, and appropriate appetizers made the choosing a little easier, but not much since the whole place stinks of sweet, wonderful `que.

Platters, it was stated, arrived with a choice of two signature sides and honey cornbread. Wanting the most bang for my buck I knew that my destiny was in platter-town. But which to choose: Brisket? Pulled pork? Ribs? Ultimately it came down to the either the ribs or the pork/brisket plate, and the ribs won out. For sides I picked the BBQ beans and Mac-n-Cheese. Nicole supped on pulled pork with mashed-potatoes-and-gravy and beans-and-rice. While we waited we drank and talked and examined the décor. Dinosaur BBQ as opted for a kitschy, throw-back vibe, so the walls are adorned with old advertisements for movies, beer, alcohol, movies, and so on. Charming and laid back, really the only appropriate set dressing for a BBQ restaurant.

Our food arrived and it was well worth the reasonably short wait. The beans were rich and spicy, having cooked for who-knows-how-long in a meaty sauce spiked with jalapenos. The Mac-n-Cheese was creamy and delicious, topped with a spicy dust I fell pretty certain is the house rub. Oh, and the ribs? Well… they were pretty good. I guess. If you like ribs, at least. And I do. Like ribs that is. Especially these ribs!

All kidding aside Dinosaur BBQ does what they’re supposed to and they do it right. Their meats are marinated of 24 hours, then dry rubbed, smoked and sauced. All this means a succulent, meaty, smokey, fall-off-the-bone, juicy rib. The real key to all this is the smoking. Yes, you can make great ribs on a charcoal or hard wood fire. Yes they are delicious. But for a truly special rib, slow-smoking is the way to go. It’s the only way to really infuse that “BBQ” flavor throughout each bite, not just in the bark, and it’s the only way to give the meat that pinkish ring just inside the crust that lets the eater know that this has been slow-cooking for a while. And I know there are some out there that say a dry rib is the only real rib, but truth-be-told I kind of like the mess of a wet rib, finding myself slathered in sauce, in search of post-meal wet-wipe is all part of the barbeque experience. I managed to sneak a few bites of Nicole’s meal and discovered the pulled pork (Boston Butt, natch) to be just as moist and tasty as my ribs, while her beans and rice were spicy and still had great texture. So often beans an rice become starchy mush while sitting in a warm pot all day. These, however, were superb.
http://www.dinosaurbarbque.com/rochesterIndex.php

Sated by pork and beer we toddled off to the show where we were treated to one of the best concerts I’ve seen this year (and I’ve seen a few this year). Case’s voice filled up the venue, blanketing guests in her velveteen sorrow. Her band did what seemed impossible at the beginning of the show, and made the large, high-ceiling concert hall seem like a much smaller, more intimate venue. Instead of trying to fill the space with sound the restrained and made the room seem to shrink, like each of us was getting a private performance. Case and her band worked through the bulk of her two most recent releases (Middle Cyclone and Fox Confessor Brings the Flood) and a handful of older tunes. Simple, direct, and one of the best live acts around, Case’s sorrowful songs are delightfully counterpointed by her disarming stage persona and wonderful sense of humor.

http://www.nekocase.com/

Post show we were still in the mood for some night living so we trekked a few blocks to Lux Lounge. At 666 South Avenue, Lux plays up their eerie address, with dark décor and Halloween leftovers. Cute, charming, $1.50 PBRs, and a hell of a juke box, Lux is a great late night stop in this sleepy little New York community.
http://www.lux666.com/

After a good and well deserved night’s sleep we awoke to hungry bellies despite the previous evening’s repast. Breakfast was further mapped out by Nicole and we drove to the Highland Park Diner. A diner in the most iconic sense, Highland Park offers all the standard breakfast and lunch diner far you could want, with a few surprises. Nicole opted for an omelet, bacon and cheese, which was tasty but nothing terribly new. The English muffin that accompanied it, however, was something altogether different. Dwarfing in size most commercially available English muffins, this thing had nooks for days and crannies for weeks. My choice was the Mexican Alarm Clock. A tortilla muy grande topped with refried beans, cheese, and scrambled eggs making a sort of open faced breakfast burrito. Both breakfasts came with sides of seasoned potatoes which, oddly, had a certain fishiness to them that neither of us could put our fingers on. The Highland Park Diner also serves a pretty decent cup of coffee which, thanks to the friendly wait staff, I never saw the bottom of.

http://rocwiki.org/Highland_Park_Diner

Well fed once again and with a long journey home we pulled up stakes and made for Ohio. While we didn’t find much in the way of afternoon entertainment in Rochester, NY, we certainly ate and drank well during our few hours of vacation.

Ridiculous Eats V: Death by Bacon!

While scouring the tubes for ever more absurd, and possibly health altering, foodstuffs I re-discovered this king of calories: the Bacon Explosion!

Concocted by the fine folks at BBQ Addicts, the Bacon Explosion! is a monument of meat. Starting on a foundation of bacon, woven together into a meat blanket, the B.E! is filled with sausage and, you guessed it, more bacon. Seasoned with a dry rub and smoked to perfection, the Bacon Explosion! is a true testament to man's desire to kill himself with the most delicious things possible.



For more pictures and how-to's check out the article on the BBQ Addicts website, here: http://www.bbqaddicts.com/blog/recipes/bacon-explosion/



But you may want to consider this along with it: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Angioplasty