The First Blanksbliving

Nick, Laura, and myself (otherwise known as “Blick,” “Blaura,” and “Blon”) recently celebrated the newly anointed holiday of Blanksbliving. A prelude to, or perhaps warm up for, Thanksgiving, Blanksbliving is an autumnal feast that celebrates gluttony, drunkenness, bowling, ice cream, and fine cinema. Blanksbliving should be observed the Monday prior to Thanksgiving. Here’s a look at the very first Blanksbliving.

The Bowling of the Ball Towards the Pins:
Almost every holiday comes with some sort of traditional activity, usually in conjunction with binge drinking, although in the case of New Year’s Eve and St. Patrick’s Day excessive alcohol consumption is the traditional activity. The Forth of July, for example, celebrates our country’s independence by blowing up small portions of it. Christmas has gift giving and religious lip service. Halloween has become national Show-Your-Slutty-Side day. Traditional Thanksgiving has Turkey Trots and football. Blanksbliving is no exception. On Blanksbliving we honor our forefathers’ struggles against small wooden objects by bowling heavy objects at them in an attempt to knock as many over as possible. Blick, Blaura, and I paid our respects at Capri Lanes where we each earned a variety of holiday commendations. Blick for fastest bowl and highest single game score, Blaura for most improved bowling and most Skee-Ball played, I for most wins and highest overall score. We gave blanks to all those who fell to the pins in the past by felling several hundred in return.

The Appetizing of the Feasters by Pizza:
The Feast can only begin after Feasters have indulged in an appetite stimulating pizza mini-feast. The first Feast’s pizza and cheese bread appetizers were delivered by Donato’s.

The Preparation of the Feast of Feasts by the Feasters:
Having worked up an appetite on the lanes we made a few stops for extra provisions before heading home to prepare the Feast of Feasts. Butter, gravy, alcohol, and more ice cream were on the shopping list, all staples of the Feast, as well as cutlery. For like so many before us we were without knives with which to prepare our meal. With everything properly assembled it was time to begin the prep. Blick began the Baking of the Brownies while I boiled water for the Mashing of the Potatoes. I must admit that I was nervous as this would be my first Mashing of the Potatoes but I was confident that my Blankfulness would carry me through. And it did!

With the two most time consuming portions of The Feast completed we began phase two of the cooking with Blaura’s Stirring of the Stove-Top stuffing and Blick’s Frying of the Bacon.

The feast was nearly complete, all that was left was the Heating of the Gravy and the Frying of the Turkey Dogs in Bacon Grease, perhaps the shortest cook times of any of the components of The Feast, these portions are just as important and significant to the feast as any other. Let not their short investments of time belie or belittle their importance.

The Heaping of the Plates:
With all the elements of The Feast in place Blick, Blaura, and I assembled our mighty food piles on the decorative Plates of the Feast. While the base foods of The Feast are universal, their arrangements are as individual as the Feasters.

The Drinking of the Booze:
With so much food to consume during The Feast, Feasters need a refreshing and seasonally appropriate draught to quench their deep down body thirst. While beers, both root and regular, would be fine libations, the drink of the First Blanksbliving was then and will forever be the Blank Blilliams. Comprised of Wild Turkey 101 and apple cider the Blank Blilliams refreshes the palate and esophagus while enlightening the brain, liver, and Q-Zone.

Just Desserts and Other Happy Endings:
A great and glorious feast such as this must surely end with a sweet coda. To this end we amassed an unrivaled stock pile of frozen treats. The First Blanksbliving Dessert Feast consisted of: But other personal choices can certainly be opted in assuming they are indeed Blanksworthy and delightfully silly.

The Viewing of the Movies:
Once the Feasters have finished at least one helping of the feast movies are viewed to stimulate the digestive process. Cheese-ball 80’s jiggle-fests and cult sci-fi flicks are the recommended course of action, but any exceedingly entertaining fare is fine so long as it promotes heckling or the recitation of the movie’s dialogue by the Feasters and further drinking and/or eating.

We certainly enjoyed the first ever Blanksbliving, we hope you can join us next year. If you are not able to for some reason, please celebrate in your own way and share the experience with the rest of us here on the blinternet.

Blappy Blanksbliving, Bleveryone!

Pozole (to be sung to the tune of "Volare")

I know, I know, you're thinking: "Man, I've been nixtamalizing corn all summer and fall, what am I going to do with all this hominy? Everyone I know is so sick of grits." I've got one word for you...

Pozole!

Traditional Mexican pork, hominy and chile stew. The pre-conquistador Aztec version used fresh human meat. Spanish priests switched it to pork because it apparently tastes very similar. You may want to leave that detail out until after everybody eats.

Here's a recipe I lifted and adapted from this random guy on the internet. His version seemed too heavy on the hominy for my taste. I do agree that the Hatch green chiles are the way to go here. They are hard to find, but worth it if you can get 'em. This is super easy to make. Sorry for the lack of pictures to prove it.

INGREDIENTS:
2-29 oz. cans white hominy
4-5 pounds pork tenderloin (cut into small chunks)
1 large yellow onion (finely chopped)
16 oz. green chiles, heat level at your discretion - NOTE: Don't sub jalapenos! Trust me.
1 tablespoon minced/chopped/pressed garlic
2 oz. menudo spice mix or chili powder
1 teaspoon dry oregano
salt (lots)
pepper (lots)
olive oil

In a large stock pot (the ingredients above will yield about 6 quarts) combine the hominy, chopped onions, garlic, oregano and green chile. Cover the ingredients with water, then add a little more. Add a lot of salt and pepper. I mean, A LOT. Put in what you think is too much, then add some more; it'll need it. Boil the mixture while you prepare the meat.

Heat some olive oil in a frying pan and brown the pork slowly. It doesn't have to be cooked entirely through, just sear the outside. Add a reasonable amount of salt and pepper here. You may have to do this in batches: 4-5 pounds of pork cubes don't conveniently fit in one frying pan.

Once the pork is browned, stir it into the stock pot with the other ingredients. Once it starts boiling again, turn down the heat and let it simmer for 15 minutes. Stir, then bring to a boil again. Reduce heat, stir and allow this to simmer for about six hours, stirring about every 30 minutes to keep the bottom from burning. About half way through, add salt and pepper to taste.

For best results, ladle the finished pozole into smaller containers and put it in the refrigerator overnight. Reheat and serve with grated cheese and yellow corn tortillas/tortilla chips.

Unfortunate Muffin

Not my photo, but I saw these obscene pumpkin spice muffins at Tim Horton's this morning.



Caption contest in comments. GO!

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...

Bucket List

I was just alerted to this fantastic article recently run in Poor Taste magazine by sometimes WWEIL contributor and generally excellent dude, Erik Pepple. "The 100 Hundred Greatest Cult Restaurants in America" is an epic list--and not so subtle challenge to the gastronomically inclined--that scours our great nation in search of those joints that elicit fervent devotion and violent salivation from their customers.

Personally I would've liked to have seen Cleveland Heights classic-cum-crunchy diner, Tommy's on the list, as well as Columbus' Jenni's Splendid Ice Creams

Check out the article and see what Poor Taste has to say. See how many you've knocked out on your travels, and plot a new course to gastronomic enlightenment.

Cheers!

Fast, Delicious Fish Tacos!

Hungry and in need of some quick, tasty, and healthy eats a few nights back, Nicole and I made a quick trip to Dave’s for vittles. It had been predetermined that tacos were our course of action, but the kind of taco had yet to be decided. Unfortunately Dave’s at Cedar and Fairmount doesn’t carry the box of fake taco meat that we really enjoy (especially if you cook the “meat” with beeraritas instead of water!) so we decided on fish tacos instead.

Picking out fish for fish tacos is a tricky feat. On the one hand you want the tacos to taste awesome and that starts with some good fish. On the other hand blowing a bunch of dough on fancy cuts of designer fish is stupid if you’re just going to top the tacos with sour cream, onion, cilantro, hot sauce, etc. A nice middle of the road, mild white fish is ideal for these applications, and really these alone. The tilapia prices were a tad high at Dave’s that night, and I’ve never heard of basa (and after reading this, maybe I’m glad we chose otherwise) so we got a pound of catfish nuggets. Catfish has a clean, mild fishy taste, ideal for lots of cooking applications and it is possible to farm raise cat fish in ways that are both economically and environmentally sound. Catfish nuggets seem to be the ends of fillets and other cuts, not the prettiest pieces of fish I’ve ever seen (there were some free guts attached to ours!) but they would end up working nicely.

Our plan was to cut the fish into little bite sized pieces and pan fry them before they met tortilla. In order to impart some flavor and texture to them before they hit the pan I dredged them in cornmeal and chili powder with a little salt and pepper mixed in. I fried them for about a minute on each side in about an eighth of an inch of vegetable oil. In a medium frying pan this took about three batches to get through all the fish. As each batch finished I let them drain on paper towels and hit them with a pinch of salt and a few grinds of pepper. To dress our tacos I finely chopped some onion and cilantro while Nicole made a creama out of sour cream, lime, and cilantro by pureeing the three in a bowl with a stick blender.

While all this other cooking was going on we had a black bean side dish simmering on another burner. While there is no defined recipe, this bean dish is something we’ve been tinkering with for a while now. The only real set ingredients are beans, beer, salt, and pepper. To make this we start by draining and rinsing a can of black beans. The beans go into a small sauce pan with a bout 4oz of beer, nothing fancy, usually PBR. The beans then get seasoned with salt and pepper. Since our cooking usually veers towards Mexican a few healthy dashes of Mexican spices go into the beans with some big splashes of hot sauce—Valentina or garlic Cholula—and a good squeeze of lime. If it’s around and/or we remember a clove of garlic is usually crushed and stirred in. Onions are optional before, during, after, or not at all. Cook this all together, stirring occasionally, until the beans soften slightly and most of the beer has cooked away. These are excellent already but can be dressed with hot sauce, sour cream, cilantro, onion, lime or any combination of the above.

Once all the fish was cooked and the beans were ready we lightly sautéed tortillas in a small frying pan with a few drops of olive oil to give them a little color and flavor as well as taking the chill of the refrigerator off; a pinch of salt on the tortillas while the oil is still hot is a nice finishing touch. If you’re disinclined towards this method you can always wet a few paper towels and ring them out at thoroughly as possible. Lay the paper towels out and lay the tortillas end to end across the towels. Roll this all up into a loose tube and pop it in the microwave for 15-45 seconds depending on the size and quantity of the tortillas and your microwave.

To assemble our fish tacos we made a small bed of creama for the fish to lay in then dropped five or six of the fish bites onto the tortilla. These were topped with a few minced onions and some cilantro along with hot sauce and a pinch of lime. The beans received a dollop of the creama as well, and some more lime and hot sauce. Altogether a simple, delicious meal that we devoured as we watched the fantastic 80’s horror homage House of the Devil.

If I had to do it all over again, and I definitely would, instead of seasoning the fish then frying it in oil I would cut the fish and let it marinate in some oil for half an hour or so. I would season the oil with chili powder, cayenne powder, and lime zest. Just before they hit the pan I’d drain the fish bites of excess oil and let them sear in the pan for about two minutes total. While the corn meal I used above gave the fish a bit of texture I think this method would allow the out side of the fish to sear better and develop a bit more flavor.

Damn Fine Cocktails

I apologize for only posting drink recipes lately. I must confess I’m not feeling that interested in food these days, not just writing about it, but eating, too. I’ve had very little taste for anything and just eat out of hunger/necessity whatever sounds edible to me at the time (read as: lots of Chinese food).

But my current fascination with mixology isn’t terribly troubling to me, so as long as you all are on board let’s take another trip behind the bar for a few new cocktail ideas.

In honor of the year’s spookiest month Nicole and I have been watching Twin Peaks, gold edition box-set thank you very much. So far the only thing I haven’t liked about it is waiting twenty years to watch it. It’s a fantastic show that combines humor, mystery, romance, action, the supernatural, and just the right amount of Mayberry wholesomeness in a way that only David Lynch could make palatable, let alone watchable. In addition to being one of the most perfect shows to ever air on network television it’s also one of the most bewildering programs to ever land on network television. In today’s market of niche programming on both basic and premium it’s easy to imagine Twin Peaks as a sleeper hit on HBO or the mind-melting off season replacement for Mad Men, but in a pre-X-Files 1990/91 television landscape Twin Peaks’ unhinged lunacy was a miraculous pick up for CBS and an even more surprising renewal.

But enough about television history, let’s get to the booze! In a second season episode of TP the local bar is transformed into a courthouse during daytime hours to consider the cases of Leland Palmer and Leo Johnson. During what seems to be a rough day of court officiating the judge, resplendent in his western ware and robes, pulls our hero, Special Agent Dale Cooper, and town sheriff, Harry S. Truman, a side for a little, ahem, sidebar. The judge discusses Johnson’s case with the two lawmen while his assistant whips up a round of “Black Yukon Sucker Punches.” She hands the men three highballs full of a dark, bluish/purplish liquid which the judge warns will “sneak up on you!” This strange aside in the show and curious looking beverage set me to wondering just what the hell is in it?

I’ve been mulling it over for a little while, considering how to get the color right as well as making something that is easily drunk, the judge and Truman knock theirs back in just a few sips. Before I started inventing I thought I’d investigate further to see if anyone on the internet had already invented such a cocktail in homage to this cult classic. I eventually stumbled onto the Twin Peaks Gazette Message Board thread concerning this mythological quaff, but was disappointed by the disgusting and/or thoughtless recipes offered. For example this foul concoction: into a mug pour 11/2 oz of Yukon Jack, fill 3/4 with Hot black coffee, fill the rest of the way with black raspberry liqueur, float 1/2 oz. of Godiva (or Mozart, or the like) chocolate liqueur on top- may substitute with chocolate syrup. Nasty business. Another poster was a little closer with this: Pour 1 shot Yukon Jack, Pour 1 shot Blackberry Brandy, Dash of Bitters, Put in blender with ice, Blend about 5 seconds. Close, but still no cigar.

It seems it was up to me do the heavy lifting on this one. First things first, the name, “Black Yukon Sucker Punch,” it must be black or blackish in color, it should in some way incorporate “Yukon,” and should as the judge suggested sneak up or sucker punch the drinker. And as previously stated, the judge and sheriff belt theirs down in no time, so it’s got to be an easy sipper, too. What drinks in all of mixdom provide easy drinkability while packing a serious punch? A lot, sure, but none quite as infamously as the Long Island Iced Tea. The classic combo of gin, tequila, rum, and vodka seem like a whole gang of bad ideas in a glass, but through the magic of booze they all get along quite nicely. This formula would be my jumping off point. I knew as well that the drink should include Yukon Jack, the “black sheep of Canadian Liquors,” those message board posters got at least one thing right. Finally it had to be black. Black licorice flavored spirits certainly crossed my mind, but the idea of a drink based on Yukon Jack and Jagermeister has “bad night at the frat house” written all over it. No, it had to be black raspberry. With a few final tweaks I finally had the Black Yukon Sucker Punch recipe down. Take a look: Black Yukon Sucker Punch
Ingredients:
- 1½oz Yukon Jack
- 1½oz Black Raspberry Liquor (the darker the better)
- 1½oz Rum (high proof, white)
- 1½oz Vodka (high proof)
- Splash Crème de Casis liqueur or Blue Curacao
- Cherry 7-up

Instructions:
Pour the four liquors into a shaker with ice. Shake vigorously until well combined. Strain into a highball with ice. Top with some “damn fine” Cherry 7-up and float Crème de Casis or Blue Curacao on top. Garnish with a black cherry on an umbrella. No straw.
If that doesn’t tickle your liver or your nethers check your pulse and then try this next cocktail on for size…

Our hero throughout this epic mindfuck is a quirky special agent from the FBI, one Dale Cooper. Dale’s seemingly sole purpose in the series, aside from solving the mysterious death of Laura Palmer and rebuffing the advances of Audrey Horne, is the never ending quest for some “damn fine” coffee and pie. While the scientific ability to turn pie into a conveyance of hooch is not quite upon us, liquoring up coffee is well within our means.

The Dale Cooper:
Ingredients:
- 4oz strong black coffee or espresso, iced
- 1½oz Kaluha
- 1½oz Vodka
- ½ to 1oz kirshwasser (cherry liqueur)

Get To It:
Combine coffee, kaluha, and vodka in a shaker with ice, shake to combine. Pour ½ to 1oz of the kirshwasser into a coffee mug and swirl to coat the sides, this is easier to do if the liqueur has been chilled redering it somewhat syrupy. Once the mug is coated pour off the rest of the kirshwasser and strain the coffee/liquor combo into the mug. To make it hot skip the shaker and pour the vodka and Kahlua into the cherry flavored mug. Top with hot coffee and stir to combine.

Don’t go adding any cream or sugar, Coop takes his coffee black. The cherry liqueur should add just a hint of fruity sweetness to the drink, like a swig of the black stuff after a big bite of some damn fine pie, Cooper’s other weakness. Swap out regular vodka for vanilla and make this a Cooper a la mode!

I hope you enjoy these! I’ve got a few more in the pipeline that I’ll hopefully get posted before the end of October. Expect a Bloody Mary variation for Laura, something dangerous and sweet for Audrey, and possibly something completely crazy and dangerous for Bob.

Liver Punisher Drink of the Month Club: October Drink of the Month!!!

Despite the impending cold and winter we’re about to endure it’s still fall and that means a few amazing things. Topping that list of awesome fall perks are the amazing beers that are released this time of year. Rich, full bodied Oktoberfest beers abound. These big, bold lagers, usually Marzen style, are deep brown or amber in color and are well balanced between sweet and malty, bitter and hoppy, with just a hint of yeastiness. Great Lakes Brewing Company makes one of the best on the market if you’re looking for something nice, but I just finished the last bottle from six pack of Dundee’s Oktoberfest and, man, was it tasty. And at a few bucks cheaper than the GLBC the price is right, too.

BUT!!! That’s not what I’m here to talk about today. No, today is about that other fine fall libation your favorite brewery is probably filling the shelves with as we speak. I’m talking, of course, about Pumpkin Ales! Bright, bold beers brewed with pumpkin and spice that warm body and soul even if they’ve just come out of the fridge or the tap. And there’s a huge variety of them out there to try, ranging from the sweet pumpkin pie and vanilla taste of Southern Tier’s Pumpking to the subtler, spicier Ichabod from New Holland; and everywhere in between you’ll find something to suit your tastes.

AND!!! Finally we arrive at the subject of October’s Liver Punisher Drink-of-the-Month Club’s October Drink-of-the-Month! Inspired by my love of hearty stouts, delicious pumpkin ales, and a favorite drink of Nicole’s I submit: the Black King!

The ingredient list is short and the construction is simple so please, do try at home:

The Software:
Guinness
Southern Tier Pumpking (or other pumpkin ale of your preference)

The Hardware:
Pint Glass
Large soup or table spoon

The How-To:
Fill half a pint glass with pumpkin ale. Place the spoon over the opening of the glass and slowly (slowly) pour the Guinness over the back of the spoon—the Guinness in the draught can with the nitrogen widget works best for this.

Better yet, head over to your favorite watering hole, one that has both pumpkin ales and Guinness on tap, of course, and have your favorite neighborhood bartender pour it for you! These half-n-half applications always turn out better when draught beer is involved.

If all goes well you should have a beautiful half-and-half just waiting to be gulped down. I prefer the Pumpking for this application because of it’s bright, spicy taste, it’s nutty/vanilla aftertaste, and it’s gorgeous orange hue. Dogfish Head’s gnarly Punkin ale or Post Road’s beautifully simple pumpkin ale would also make fine substitutions.

Dranks, Dranks, Dranks! Liver Punisher Drink of the Month Club: September Drink of the Month!!!

A few weeks into September is a little late for a “Drink of the Month” entry, I know, but this one is so good, you’ll be glad you waited!

So, it’s no secret that the happy marriage of gin and tonic is one of the great pairings in booze history. They’re Lucy and Ricky, intrinsically linked forever and all time with a wedge of lime standing in for little Ricky. And like Lucy and Ricky it’s somewhat of a surprise that they work so well together. She was a quirky redhead who was always in some sort of well meaning trouble, he was a no-nonsense latin band leader. Gin is a piney, often astringent spirit that has garnered just as many fans as detractors, and tonic water is a thin, bitter soft drink that is generally unpalatable on its own. Together, however each pair unites to form something greater than either individual. A gin a tonic is a cool, refreshing burst of bitter, spicy, sour, and just a hint of sweet. Lucy and Ricky are an indelible comedy team with impeccable timing and natural chemistry. It seems that there would be no room for improvement.

But all that changed about a week ago while I was sitting at the Fairmount in Cleveland Heights sipping a rich, frothy Jameson Sour. Waiting for drinking companionship to arrive I had little else to do between drinks other than glimpse the day’s sports highlights and eavesdrop on the other people at the bar. The closest, and therefore easiest to overhear, were three folks from Ireland. They discussed the merits of American mico-brews and the strange phenomenon of pumpkin beers with the bartender for a bit before resuming a more private convo. The young lady sitting nearest to me had ordered a gin a tonic on their arrival and had taken a few sips before she hailed the bartender. She asked very politely if it might be possible to have the bartender add something called St. Germain to her cocktail. She obliged, and while she was doctoring the drink I asked my neighbor what exactly she was having done. She explained that it was a liquor made from Elderflower blossoms and asked the bartender if we might smell the bottle top. There was little doubt that this had come from flowers, bright and floral, like smelling a bouquet of fresh cut flowers.

I’ll admit that I had some reservations about this addition to a gin and tonic, something so beautifully simple that it needs little more than a squeeze of citrus. She assured me that it was a perfect compliment, and was so convincing in her salesmanship that I ordered one myself on the next round.

It was good, to say the least. It was like tasting a gin and tonic again for the first time. The floral nose of the St. Germain is a nice foil to the battered-by-pine-boughs scent of gin, in fact the two mix in such a way as to give the drink the scent of a particularly good IPA. And the taste of the elderflower liquor is pleasant and sweet, adding another layer of flavor to the drink. This new concoction now touches on the bitter, sweet, and sour sectors of the tongue, filling the mouth with a taste that would somewhere in the neighborhood of a field of wild flowers that neighbors a dense pine forest just moments after a hearty spring rain.

While I generally feel most like drinking g’n’ts in the summer, this slight adjustment gives it warmth and body, extending the drink’s season into this late summer/early fall time.

Play the Home Edition, or: What to Ask Your Bartender For:

On the Rocks: Fill a rocks or old fashioned glass with ice. Pour in about 2oz of gin, more or less to taste. Fill nearly to the rim with tonic water. Top with up to a teaspoon of St. Germain elderflower liquor and garnish with a lime.

Up: Fill a shaker with ice and add 2oz of gin, a teaspoon of St. Germain, and a squeeze of lime. Shake well and strain into a cocktail glass, top with tonic water to taste.

http://www.stgermain.fr/index2.php

A Very Belated Liver Punisher Drink of the Month Club: "August Drink of the Month!"

Due to personal scheduling conflicts, this post is about a month over due. Please, enjoy anyways!

August’s Drink of the Month Club “Drink of the Month” is something you’ve probably drunk before, but had no idea you were drinking it while you were. It’s a nearly ubiquitous in bars and restaurants across America in some form or another, but it’s so common it goes unnamed. If you’re a beer drinker and you enjoy Mexican food you’ve almost certainly received a beer with a wedge of lime crammed in the neck or resting on the top of the can, and enjoyed the sweet/sour combination of beer and fresh squeezed lime. Now, let me introduce you, by name, to this taste.

Michelada meet drinker, drinker meet michelada. Also known as cervesa preperada, or prepared beer, this is a cocktail that seeks to enhance the cool, refreshing qualities of Mexican, and domestic for that matter, lagers.

Origins are unclear, but some say the michelada was created as a way to make sub-standard Mexican beer palatable to American tourists. I’m not convinced this is true as most Mexican lagers outstrip the majority of American macro-brewed beers. So far, of all the Mexican beers I’ve tried, and I’ve tried most of them as this point, this is only true of Corona, whose bland, skunky taste requires limey goodness to make even approach drinkability. Other myths of origin suggest that limes were swirled around the mouths of beer containers in order to kill any bacteria lurking in the ice used to chill the beers at resorts. This seems more plausible, but I’m still skeptical. No, I think it comes down to man’s nature to try and improve on something. The michelada doesn’t necessarily try to reinvent the wheel, it’s more of a white walls and spinners deal.

Michelada recipes are as varied as the countries of South and Central America, utilizing a variety of native ingredients to enhance the both taste and rejuvenating qualities of native brews. Perhaps you’ve seen Bud’s “chelada” in a can, a foul, foul mixture of clamato juice and Bud, lite or regular—your choice!—is a variation on a common Mexican version, while a spicy Cubana contains Worcestershire sauce, Tobasco, chile, and salt. Stateside, the so called “shandy” is a michelada made up of lager and lemonade. There are literally endless variations of micheladas, the only limit is imagination and mixable ingredients.

I would now like to share with you a few of my favorite michelada recipes:

(Note: when making these I primarily used 12oz. bottles and cans of Modelo Especial and PBR, but any medium bodied lager, or “beer that tastes like beer” should do nicely.)

Super Simple Michelada:
Open beer, take drink, squeeze in lime, swirl to mix, enjoy! It’s as simple as that, just a little lime juice, even from the little squeezable plastic lime works nicely. If you want to class this up a bit and impress your friends remove the beer can from the fridge and let it stand at room temp for a minute or two until it starts to sweat a little bit. Once there’s enough condensation built up to make some salt stick, roll the rim of the can in kosher salt then open, drink, lime, drink again. If you’d rather not have to lick all the edges of the can to get a little salt every time, simply line the rim of a glass with salt, squeeze in the lime then pour beer over top to mix.
Nicolassa’s Famosa Beermosa:
Nicole would often speak of a michelada of her own invention. A self described greatest-thing-since-champagne-and-orange-juice drink she had dubbed “Beermosa” in honor of the aforementioned concoction. The recipe might actually be easier than our Super Simple Michelada: Into a pint glass pour one bottle or can of beer. Top with 3-4oz of your preferred orange juice, stir lightly to combine, and enjoy with the breakfast or brunch of your choosing. A delicious and refreshing way to start the day and/or take a little hair of the dog.

The RMC:
Like any lucky kid growing up I got to spend a fair amount of my childhood being spoiled by my grandparents. And for all the wonderful memories I have of my grandfather, one of the strongest was his interesting habit of seasoning certain food and drink items, namely his beer and watermelon which both received a pinch of salt. It was in that spirit, and the influence of 21st Amendment Brewery’s Hell or High Watermelon that I created this quaffable tribute. Once again coat the rim of a pint glass with salt, the easiest way to do this is to rub the edge with lime then upturn the glass into a saucer of salt; you could go out and buy a tub of “Margarita” salt, but why spend when you already have everything you need. Into this salty rimmed glass pour 2-3oz of watermelon juice (recipe follows). Top with a bottle or can beer and float a lemon wheel on top. The sweet watermelon, bitter beer, sour lemon, and salty salt makes this a drink that appeals to all the tastes. It is incredibly easy drinking, almost to a fault, and is should even appeal to the tastes of folks who claim to not like beer.

The Beer-a-Rita:
For a real kick in pants try this boozy version of the michelada. In a shaker or mixing glass combine, per person, 1 shot of tequila blanca, a healthy squeeze of lime (say an eighth or so), and a splash of triple sec. Add a shot of the mixture to a can of beer, from which a few sips have been taken and the edge has been coated with salt. You could, of course, do all this in a glass, but why when this is more fun. To a, mostly, full beer this imparts just a hint of margarita goodness throughout. Just a hint of the sweet/sour from the triple sec and lime, and that great fresh, earthy, grassy bite from the tequila. Watch out, though, this’ll michelada will really clean your clock.

La Michelada Ultima:
While the above recipes are all well and good—and by good I mean awesome!—they are admittedly anglicized versions of the michelada, so I wanted to create something that would be more traditional and authentic. This is what I came up with: take course salt, kosher would be best, and place 2-3 tablespoonfuls into a small Tupperware container. Shake in a few dashes of any or all of the following: chili powder, cayenne powder, or dried chipotle powder; there should be enough seasoning that there are red and brown flecks scattered throughout the slat, but not so much that it overwhelms the salt; no more than an eighth of a teaspoon per 3tbs of salt. Shake well to combine and empty onto a saucer. Rim a pint glass with the spicy salt and squeeze the juice of half a lime into the bottom of the glass. Some recipes call for even more than that—about 3-4 teaspoons per half—but I found that to be overwhelming, like drinking beer flavored lime juice; the object here is to enhance the beer, not burry it in an acid bath. To the lime juice add 2 dashes of bitters and a few drops of your favorite hot sauce. I suggest something less vinegary than Red Devil, Frank’s, etc. as drinking a big glass of vinegar appeals to few. I used a scotch bonnet sauce I like because it adds heat, but alters the flavor by very little. Valentina would be a nice authentic choice, or Cholula which is well balanced between flavor and spice. Pour beer over the lime/bitters/hot sauce and enjoy. The resulting elixir is a full bodied drink that satisfies nearly all the taste cravings and should leave a little sizzle in the throat and tingle on the lips. Remember this is meant to be refreshing, not excruciating so don’t go overboard.

Variations on the Theme:
While working out this final iteration I had a few other irons in the coals and found that these slight variations of the above recipe yield results just as satisfying, but not as bold. First, you can opt out of the spicy salt mix if you feel that’s too much, and for some it may be. Another option is to assemble as above leaving out the bitters until the end. Shake in a few dashes before serving, but don’t mix, allowing the bitters to mix in themselves as the beverage is consumed. Doing this let’s the michelada develop over time and each sip is different from the last. Again jumping off from the Ultima, before the beer is added pour in a splash of orange juice then add the beer to combine. The result is slightly sweeter, more of an aperitif than main course. Alternately add the OJ to the top of the glass at the end and allow it to mix in like the bitters. Unlike the bitters which form smokey trails through the michelada before they combine, the orange juice mixes and unifies much quicker. Either way, the orange juice in these iterations is more of a seasoning that full component so don’t use anymore of it than you’ve used lime juice.

These are just a few ways to jazz up your beer for your next fiesta, cookout, or regular old night of beer drinking. Use these recipes to impress your friends or invent your own and share them with me and the world!

Cheers!



Fresh Watermelon Juice:
Outside of squeezing citrus this may be the easiest juice to acquire at home. Purchase, or pick if you’re so inclined, the freshest watermelon available to you. I’m terrible at determining freshness so I opt for the precut. A good watermelon should have vibrant red/pink flesh that’s firm but yields to pressure. For this application seedless would be preferred, but a plethora of big brown seeds and a dearth of the little white ones is a sure sign of ripeness in the seed baring variety. Cut the watermelon into large-ish chunks, it doesn’t need to be fancy, and drop them into your blender or food processor. Let your machine work its magic for a minute or two then add more chunks until either the unit is full of juice or you’re out of melon. Pour the juice from your device into another vessel via a strainer. You’ll need to help it along by scraping the strainer with a spatula. This should remove most of the major pulp, but the liquid that remains will still have some texture, while this should be fine for most if you want it extra fine pour it through another finer strainer or one lined with a paper coffee filter. If it’s not already in one transfer this to an easy open storage container and refrigerate. I also added a few drops of lemon juice as a preservative. I got about 3 cups from just a quarter of a melon, so unless you’re planning a huge party this should be more than enough.

And if you’re wondering what to do with extra melon juice here are a few suggestions, other than just drinking it:
Into a blender pour one shot of coconut rum per 4oz of watermelon juice. Drop in a few ice cubes and pulse until mostly smooth. Pour into a highball and garnish with lime, watermelon slice, spring of mint.

For the more dessert minded take measure of your remaining melon juice, making sure you have around three cups. If not make some more, it seems to keep well. To the watermelon juice add a healthy squeeze of lemon and 6-8oz of pineapple juice to make about a quart of liquid. Chill well, then process in ice cream maker per your manufacturer's instructions.

Hamburger a la Steak au Poivre with Pommes Frites

I’d had this idea swimming around in my head for a while. I’m wasn't entirely sure where it came from at first, but for some reason I wanted to make really delicious hamburgers, cooked in a skillet and then set ablaze in a display of alcoholic pyrotechnics.

I’d been thinking about this and thinking about this for weeks when it finally dawned on me where this spark of inspiration had come from: an episode of Good Eats titled “Tender is the Loin” in which Alton discusses the buying, butchering, and preparation of beef loin. The final flourish in this episode is the production of steak au poivre, a French dish that is as elegant as it is simple. This would be my jumping off point.

The creation of my dish was rooted in the steak’s: a filet cut of the tenderloin, crusted with crushed black peppercorns, and seared in a buttery skillet. Once the steaks are cooked the pan is deglazed with a flambé of brandy and enriched with heavy cream. Once the brandy cream pan sauce has thickened and reduced the steaks are returned to pan and tossed in the cream before serving.

So simple, but so delicious looking. I’ve honestly watched that episode a dozen times or so and every time I see it I want to find the nearest all night grocery store, grab the few ingredients needed and whip up a couple late night steaks. The fact there are no all night liquor stores within hours of me is all that’s kept this from happening. And of course I’d kind of forgotten about this idea for a while, being away from cable and all, but this idea was reignited recently when I purchased a bottle of Christian Brothers brandy a few weeks ago to make sangria (http://whatweeatislaughable.blogspot.com/2010/07/south-of-border-con-el-castigador-del.html).

The stars were starting to align and I began concocting a menu in my head. The centerpiece would be burgers cooked in the vein of steak au poivre, but what would come with? Well, what goes best with burgers always and forever? The ketchup to its mustard? The peanut butter to its jelly? The Tango to its Cash? The Harley Davidson to its Marlboro Man? Fries, natch. But these were going to be “fancy” burgers so I needed "fancy" fries, too, or rather pommes frites. Keeping things in this bullshit bistro vein I decided to concoct some interesting sauces for the fries as well, a homemade garlic aioli and a spicy cheese sauce. Now I just needed someone to share all this with, so I invited some of the best company I know: Nicole.

The menu set I scanned the kitchen and made a shopping list, thankfully my family keeps a relatively well stocked kitchen and I only needed a few items. A short trip to the store later and I was ready. Feel free to play the home version with these recipes:

Fancy-pants Steak Au Poivre Burgers:

Ingredients:
Equal quantities of ground chuck and sirloin equaling at least ½ pound
Salt (preferably Kosher)
Whole peppercorns (at least a teaspoon)
Butter
Olive oil
1/3 cup brandy or Cognac plus 1 teaspoon (reserved)
Heavy cream

How-to:
Mix both the chuck and sirloin until they are well combined then form them into ¼ pound patties (about 3¾” diameter and ½” thick if you don’t have a kitchen scale). Liberally salt both sides with the kosher salt. Coarsely crush the peppercorns, I smashed them between a heavy, cast iron skillet and a cutting board, then press both sides of the burger into the crushed pepper ensuring a complete and even crust on all sides. If you are ready to cook allow the burgers to rest, otherwise refrigerate, but allow between half and hour and an hour for the burgers to rest at room temperature before cooking. When ready to cook combine the butter and olive oil in a medium skillet over medium heat and allow them to melt and combine until they shimmer. Once the oil/butter combo is ready carefully place burgers into the skillet. Allow them time to sear the surface before flipping. Flip once and continue cooking. Cook until desired doneness is achieved, between 145* F and 160* F for medium-rare or medium, respectively. Remove burgers from pan and place on a plate tented with foil to rest. Drain any remaining fat or juices but do not scrape the pan. Carefully pour the 1/3 cup of brandy into the pan and ignite with a long match or grill lighter (if you are cooking on a gas stove turn off gas before attempting this). Allow the brandy to flame until it puts itself out. Pour in the heavy cream and stir the mixture, scraping all the tasty charred bits off the bottom of the pan. Allow the brandy/cream mixture to come to a boil and slightly reduce until it coats the back of a spoon. Season with salt and pepper to taste and stir in the reserved brandy. Replace the burgers in the pan and coat with the sauce. Serve.


Next were the pommes frites. I’ve been somewhat obsessed with making and eating the perfect fry since reading Jeffery Steingarten’s Vogue article about the finest points of making fries (apparently the secret ingredient is horse lard!) and was excited to try it at home. Since I was going to have a lot of other cooking going on I opted for a variation of a Joel Robuchon recipe I’d read about. Where a lot of recipes for frites have you double fry the potatoes, first at a lower temp to cook the insides then at a higher to crisp the outside, this recipe boasted the ability to do both with the minimum of work.

Super Simple Pommes Frites:

Ingredients:
1¼ - 1½ pounds of good Idaho boiling potatoes
1 quart peanut oil
Salt

How To:
Cut your potatoes into strips about 3/8” square, making sure they are all as even as possible. Pat dry then place potato strips in a large pot, at least 4” deep and 10” wide. Pour in oil to just cover potatoes and attach fry thermometer to side of pot making sure it is not touching the bottom. Heat pot and contents on high. Around 200* F the oil will begin to gently bubble. Continue to cook and heat until the oil reaches 350* F. Once the oil reaches 350* turn off heat and scoop fries onto a draining rig. Season with salt just before serving.


Delicious, crispy fries are a thing of beauty, certainly, but even the best fries need some accoutrement as they are, after all, just potatoes. Taking a nod from the Belgians, the originators of the fried potato thank you very much, I decided aioli would be a nice dipping sauce. And since this meal had one foot planted firmly in European cuisine and another in American diner culture, I figured this whole thing needed a little cheese, too.

Garlic Aioli and Spicy Cheese Sauce:

Aioli Ingredients:
3 cloves garlic
1 large egg
1 tablespoon fresh squeezed lemon juice
½ teaspoon salt
Black pepper to taste
Fresh chopped parsley (optional)
½ cup olive oil

What to do with it all:
In a food processor, blender, or mixing bowl combine all ingredients except the oil. Once the rest of the ingredients are well combined, slowly drizzle in the oil until a thick, uniform texture is achieved. Refrigerate until ready to serve.

Cheese Sauce Ingredients:
¼ cup butter (1/2 stick)
¼ cup flour
1½ cups milk
8oz. shredded cheese
Salt and pepper to taste
Cayenne pepper (optional)
½ Jalapeno seeded, de-ribbed, and minced extra fine (optional)

Do it:
In a medium sauce pan over medium heat melt the butter. If you’re using the jalapeno now would be a good time to add it, allowing its oils to infuse the butter and everything else that will be added to sauce. Once the butter is melted whisk in the flour and keep stirring. This is called rue and is the base of this and countless other sauces. Keep stirring the rue until in takes on a nutty brown color (it’s actually ready as soon as all the flour is incorporated into the butter, but needs to be cooked longer to toast out the taste of the flour). Once the rue is cooked mix in the milk a little at a time, keeping it constantly moving. After all the milk has been incorporated stir in small handfuls of cheese a bit at a time. It’s tempting to add it all at once but that will create a lumpy mess not smooth, cheesy goodness. Once all the cheese is mixed in taste the sauce and season with salt, pepper, and cayenne to taste.


Notes and Adjustments:

One small adjustment I made to burgers was the addition of a few veggies. I decided that just the burger and cream sauce on a bun would be too simple. After the burgers were done cooking I placed a quarter of a chopped onion in the renderings with a little extra butter. I let these cook for a few minutes until they started to take some color at the edges. Once they started to caramelize I added several chopped mushrooms to the pan as well and let them sauté. Once the mushrooms were just shy of being done I added the brandy for the flambé, allowing them both to continue cooking and take in some of the brandy.

I somehow got all the timing right on these and everything finished more or less at the same time. Taste wise everything was fine, but there were a few things I thought could’ve been better. First, the buns. I originally wanted these served on a sweeter roll of some sort, like a brioche or challah, unfortunately I could find no such rolls, the whole wheat rolls I had were fine, just not what I had intended. The burgers were, to my taste, a little over done, in the medium-well range, but I didn’t trust my instincts and instead went by thermometer. I also forgot that burgers, thought flat when they begin to cook will seize slightly and form a more meatball-like shape. This is combated by making a slight indentation in the center of the meat just prior to cooking; if the burgers are pinched right they will even out perfectly during cooking. The aioli recipe, courtesy of Emeril, was a little thinner than I had hopped. I chalk this up in part to the use of smaller eggs from a local farm instead of the giant dino-eggs from the grocery store. I’d maybe use a more neutral flavored oil than the extra virgin I had, too. While delicious, the extra virgin almost overpowered the garlic. Almost. Despite minor consistency issues it was a wholly delicious side, rich and fatty and garlicky and lemony. A great summer sauce, a solid base for a salad dressing, and likely a great egg topper; and I’m not really a fan of mayos. The cheese sauce was the only thing that turned out as expected, maybe a little less spicy than I hoped, but the flavor and consistency were great. It just made a lot. Like a lot, a lot. Luckily it was delicious. The fries were the big stumbling block. I’m not sure how much credence I put into this simplified version of the recipe. The fries seemed to cook too fast and were overly browned when I pulled them around 330* F. Maybe it was the stovetop, maybe I didn’t have the thermometer placed correctly, maybe this recipe is too good to be true. Probably a little of all three. The fries did, however, taste pretty great, with a nice crispy outside and a soft, flakey inside. I will admit that my knife skills, especially when it comes to potatoes, is lacking so if I am to continue practicing the dark arts of the fryer I’m going to invest in a fry slicer.

We washed all this down with a few beers, Corsendonk brown ale and Henniger pilsner. The Henniger is a crisp, refreshing, easy drinking German lager. It tastes exactly like the phrase “German lager” would suggest, but not as bitter as most, with a very subtle citrusy finish. The Corsendonk, an abbey brown ale, was at a different end of the spectrum from the Henninger. Its dark brown color and yeasty/malty taste bore aftertastes of robust fruits and artisianal breads. While the former was an excellent counterpoint to the rich, fatty repast we enjoyed, the Corsendonk was a wonderful, robust complement.

I’m pretty proud of how all this turned out, despite a few minor hiccups. But I didn’t burn the house down setting the brandy ablaze and I didn’t start a grease fire either. I didn’t burn myself, cut myself, or touch my eye after chopping the jalapeno. I feel totally confident in repeating the performance with few to no goofs. So, anyone want dinner?


Post Script:
I had a fair amount of the aioli left after dinner, after discussing its future uses with Nicole, we determined that it would make an “egg-celent” topping on eggs. So, for dinner last night I poached two eggs—pretty well for my first try at it, too, I may add—and split an English muffin. Before popping the muffin halves in the toaster I sprinkled them with a chiffonade of fresh basil and some asiago cheese. When the eggs were solid enough to scoop from their water bath I placed them on the two toasty muffins with their toasty cheese and warm, fragrant basil. I poured about a tablespoon and a half of the aioli—which has married and mellowed over the last few days and is amazing now—over the eggs, seasoned with a little salt and pepper, and tucked in. Sha-Zam! Tender, yolky eggs; rich, garlicky, fatty aioli; toasty, nutty cheese; just the right hint of the basil in the background, and all those crackling good nooks and crannies golden brown in the middle, just slightly charred on the edges. Perfection. A wonderful dinner with some medium dry white wine or a Hoegaarden, or an amazing brunch with a mimosa or two. The only thing I would add to this if I had it around would be a few thin slices of prosciutto under the egg and/or pancetta fried crisp and sprinkled over the top. Or keep it veggie with a big slab of fresh heirloom tomato!

Brunch at the TapHouse: Epic Win!

It should come as no surprise that one of Cleveland’s best West Side bars boasts one of the city’s best brunches. Or maybe it does. Should a bar with an impeccable beer selection also offer some of the best late morning meals in the city? They certainly have the audacity to try, but what right do they have to offer excellent drink options AND tongue blowing meals?

I’m speaking of the Tremont TapHouse, of course, where Nicole and I brunched this past Sunday.

After a long, hot day of beer tasting in the sun at Blues and Brews Saturday afternoon and partying all night for Paul’s 30th that evening, we needed a good hearty meal to help undo some of the damage inflicted in the last 24 hours. Having recently been to the TapHouse for drinks and perusing the brunch menus on the tables we were excited to have the chance to take brunch there this past Sunday—until recently we both worked every Sunday. And after a long night of sleeping it off we headed over to TapHouse for some much needed eats.

The often crowded TapHouse was lively but not packed when we arrived and we were quickly seated. Water, coffee (mine), and a Bloody Mary (hers) arrived within a few minutes. Things were off to a good start. And then we started looking at the menu. A problem only in as much as there are quite possibly too many good options on this wonderfully appointed menu. Its opening salvo is oysters on the half shell (oyster power!) with Bloody Mary cocktail sauce, a bold gambit. Antes are upped and re-upped as the menu continues, with a knockout of a grilled cheese and burger. Things are escalated further with a breakfast pizza (eggs + bacon + boursin + tomatoes + mozzarella!), eggs Benedict (with or without crab), a Kentucky style hot brown (look it up), a trio of excellent sounding omelets, and another trio of griddle goodies, just to name a few.

The choice was tough to say the least, and I seriously considered the pizza for a long time, as well as the biscuits and gravy. Ultimately I decided on Chef James Mowcomber’s update on the corned beef hash. The TapHouse’s hash subs out the pickled Ruben fodder for slow braised beef (short rib or shoulder? It’s more or less the same when it’s that tender and beefy!). Mowcomber then steers this down a dusty, vaguely Southwestern path with poblanos, crispy tortilla strips, and salsa. There were also sweet and tender onions, smoked cheddar, and two of the best fried eggs I’ve ever eaten. All this is served over a bed of the TapHouse’s gorgeous potato hash. Gathering a little of each component on my fork, the whole thing is beyond delicious. Succulent, tender beef, sweet caramelized onions, potato crisp and starchy, smokey roast pepper, tender, yolk soaked egg, and just the right amount of crunch from the tortilla bits. A stunning, wonderful celebration of food, assembled beautifully on my plate, and more delicious than it looked.

Nicole chose wisely, if a little safer, as well. Opting for the biscuits and gravy, she received a plate nearly overflowing with tender buttermilk biscuits, rich gravy loaded with chunks of sausage, and two more of those perfect over easy eggs. Having long been averse to the biscuit/gravy pairing and only recently come around my yard stick for good biscuits and gravy is served at Vine and Bean Café on the East Side. The TapHouse’s offering is easily the best I’ve had since. The primary difference being this gravy was more heavily spiced and darker in color as opposed to the white gravy that’s usually ladled on top. But color matters little when food tastes this good. Presented as elegantly as biscuits and gravy can be and in very generous portion, this was an excellent way to get a late start on the day.

Not to completely gush about the greatness of the TapHouse, there was one small aspect of the meal that could’ve been better: the coffee. I suppose there always has to be some flaw somewhere. And it’s not like it was bad, but rather just good. Better than the coffee at most diners, but really nothing special. And I only mention this because it’s a surprise when considered next to the superlative beer selection, brilliant brunch board, and amazing dinner options.

My hat is off to Chris, Jason, James, and everyone else at the TapHouse! Please, continue all this excellent work.

http://www.tremonttaphouse.com/

http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/16/334758/restaurant/Tremont/Tremont-Tap-House-Cleveland