The Martes Chronicles: Sometimes Everyone Needs A Bimbo

SafeSearch: Moderate.

I don’t eat a lot of white bread, but when I do, I eat Bimbo.

These days I don’t eat a ton of bread in general. When I was a younger man I would subsist mainly on baguettes (the Wonder Bread of the pretentious) or, failing that, on some kind of mid-range bagged white bread like Pepperidge Farm. Then I got older and lazier and my metabolism slowed down. Suddenly scarfing down so much bleached flour every day didn’t seem like such a great idea, so I switched the core source of my nutrition from bread to Bourbon and Rye whiskeys.

As I’ve become more stringent in my observation of Jewish dietary laws, I’ve had to cut out a lot of the processed foods I used to indulge in on big-spending visits to the convenience store. Cheetos contain non-kosher rennet in the cheese powder. Same with Doritos (which I don’t really miss that much). Most supermarket breads are not certified kosher either, especially hot dog and hamburger buns.

This has created a few problems for me when grilling burgers or hot dogs over the last few years. If I’m going through the trouble of grilling beef; I want to have a platform for it that doesn’t render the burger unkosher. With their milk additives, pork enzymes and random bits of sheetrock: many supermarket breads aren’t fit for my picky, superstitious ways.

Más pelusa!

Thankfully; there is Bimbo.
BIMBO displays and products have been a common sight in the convenience stores and supermarkets of the border states for decades. With their eye-punishingly loud packaging and soulless bear mascot they can be a little intimidating to shoppers who are unfamiliar with the brand. You might recognize it as the Bizzaro Mexican Hostess you see when you shop in a neighborhood with a sizable Latino population.

In the last few years more and more Bimbo products have been showing up in suburban big box stores and even upscale markets. I thought this was just a result of the slow diversification of the suburbs, which has something to do with it, but the main reason lies with Bimbo straight up owning Brownberry and a mind-numbing assortment of other well-known brands. That’s correct. Grupo Bimbo is the world’s largest baking company. And they’re based in Mexico City.

Okay, why am I using up your valuable time slurping a processed white bread made by a multinational corporation? Beyond the interesting trivia factor?
Because sometimes you can only afford enough for grilled cheese sandwiches. Sometimes you’ve got a fussy child who refuses to eat anything but PB&J. Sometimes a loaf of white bread is a necessity dictated by time and place. I’d absolutely love to spend hours each day lovingly crafting loaves of sourdough bread in a hand-built brick oven. But that isn’t possible for me right now. Maybe I’ll blog about it in 15 years.

If I have to eat white bread, or feed it to those I care about, it might as well be of a good quality. That is the reason Bimbo bread gets my ringing endorsement. It’s kosher, non-dairy, free of corn syrup and artificial colors and flavors. Don’t get me wrong. Despite being “packed with yum” (seriously) it’s still white bread and you shouldn’t consider it health food. But if you’re making grilled cheese sandwiches for kindergartners, you need a vehicle for Nutella first thing in the morning or you insist on having only the best ghetto-ass hot dog buns- Bimbo bread is a great way to do a bad thing right.

That’s why it’s the preferred sandwich bread of ninja assassins the world over.

Como un jefe.

The bear is pretty scary too.

Thursday Morning Quarterback: Episodes Four & Five

Thursday Morning Quarterback is a weekly attempt to humorously recap each new episode of Top Chef Texas on the Bravo Network (as if you didn’t know).
Beware; there are spoilers below!

Editors Note: Yeah yeah yeah. Computer and DVR problems rule my life. Get over it.
Here we go:

EPISODE FOUR:

  • Gross- the competition is sponsored by “Healthy Choice”. I miss Glad Bags already.
  • Chiles, Chiles, Chiles- nothing makes me happier.
  • The Ghost Chile is NOT the hottest chile in the world. That would be the Guatemalan Insanity Pepper; grown in the jungle by inmates of an insane asylum.
  • Paul Qui goes for the ghost pepper. Go big or go home.
    (I typed that before he said it. Spooky)
  • I swear up and down that Richie was not born a male (Notthatthere’sanythingwrongwiththat); Mrs. Headchef is still on the fence about it. What do you think?
  • Who makes a fucking habanero popper? This ain’t TGIFridays. (Then she finishes in the top three, of course)
  • Woooooo! I’m telling you that Paul is not to be messed with.
  • ALL NIGHT TO COOK? Spoiled bastards.
  • Cubed chuck; onions; tomatoes; chili powder; a little corn masa; salt. Anything more and YOU INSULT THE GREAT STATE OF TEXAS!
  • Bwaaa! TOM!
  • I can’t believe they’re using brisket in their chili. What a waste of a luxurious cut of meat, especially considering that the long cooking time will cause the meat to disintegrate. I predict angry cowboys.
  • Peaches? PEACHES? This ain’t Fredricksburg.
  • One hour is not a lot of time to reheat chili without scorching it. I deal with that once a week at my restaurant job and it’s no party.
  • Kind of surprised that no team attempted a chili verde. Huh.
  • Huh. The brisket chili is stringy. Shocking.
  • BEANS HAVE NO BUSINESS IN CHILI! Ok- maybe in whatever yankee carpetbagger state you come from, but certainly not in Tix-ass.
  • “There’s no crying in cooking”-Nyesha. Yeah, not in front of any other chefs anyway.
  • Padma on a horse.
  • Ooh- double elimination challenge with the leftover chili. I suggest a walking taco.
  • Sad to see Richie go home. He had a very ambitious style, and I honestly thought he was a contender.

ON TO EPISODE FIVE:

  • 14 chefs remain. WHO YA GOT?
  • Moving on to Dallas. HOME OF THE COWBOYS! THE MAVERICKS! THE RANGERS! J.R. EWING! YEEEEEHAW!
  • “Isn’t Dolly Parton from Dallas?”- Beverly. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Every third Dolly song mentions she’s from the Smokey Mountains of Tennessee. You deserve to be eliminated on that dumb comment alone, you freaking crybaby.
  • Wow. Chris used to be a little on the husky side.
  • Road block. I feel like there are better uses for TX state troopers, namely, targeting out of state drivers with a ruthless efficiency.
  • You can use anything you find in the field? Does that include cow chips and mesquite?
  • You might as well run backwards through that cornfield, as that’s feedcorn unfit for human consumption, and you ain’t got time to nixtamalize it.
  • Oh wow, the corn was too dry. The corn from those drying stalks of feedcorn. Shocking.
  • Lindsey’s little soup and sandwich was cute. Glad she won the challenge. What the hell is a Vienna sausage, though?
  • STFU, Dakota. Nobody likes you.
  • That’s some hotel room. Some neighborhood. Some house. Nobody does classless opulence like Dallas.
  • No peppers or cilantro. Welcome to Dallas; a city most Texans find to be as Northeastern as Boston.
  • Dude in the pink shirt (gummy bear lover) went to his stylist and asked for the “Mark Cuban”.
  • During a bump the editors threw in a shot of Dealey Plaza. Classy. Strange that they didn’t highlight Ford’s Theater during Top Chef DC.
  • Wow, those are some ugly kitchens.
  • I think they’re singling out Beverly just to make her cry now.
  • Have I mentioned what a fierce competitor Paul is? I’m developing a serious mancrush.
  • “If you wanted it to look like a cigar, clearly it was a pretty poorly rolled one. Obviously little Dominican children did not make them”- Mrs Headchef
  • Oh wow, seared diver scallops. Nobody EVER makes those.
  • Dakota’s plate looks like a pile of monkey poop.
  • Nothing like an after-dinner margarita. Or ten.
  • PAUL DOMINATES AGAIN! AUSTIN REPRESENT!
  • Chuy really dropped the ball on this one. Sad, because I like a lot of his dishes.
  • Chris certainly let out his inner fat kid. Too bad that fat kid went to Old Country Buffet.
  • I really can’t believe that Chuy’s dish was worse than Chris’ dessert or the lame cigar. That’s a real shocker.

Okay, see you on time this Thursday morning. From the Southfork Ranch? AWESOME.

The Martes Chronicles: Pilaf And Go

Moghul Style rice Pilaf with Curried Chicken and Grilled Tomato

Few dishes span geography and history in as grand a manner as rice pilaf. Or pilau. or palov. Or palau. Or pulao. Or sopa seca, if you will. How the did rice cooked in broth become a common dish stretching from Asia to the Near East, North Africa, Europe and Central America?

It starts with the Persians (that’s what Iranians used to call themselves), and their neighbors in Central Asia, who were some of the first rice cultivators in the world. Having rice (typically of a long grain Basmati-style variety) as your staple food can get boring very fast, so the Persians developed multiple preparations for their rice, each producing a very different result based on the steaming/boiling/par-cooking methods used.

It doesn’t take much imagination to realize that cooking the rice in a seasoned broth would be considered both highly nutritious and a little luxurious, what with broth being relatively more expensive than plain water. When Alexander the Great encountered the Persian Empire; he was fed a variant of pilaf by the locals; enjoying the dish so much that he brought the recipe back to Macedonia where it was in turn spread throughout Eastern Europe.

The story of pilaf is the story of the rise and fall of empires. The Persians spread the dish through Afghanistan, Central Asia, Turkey and the Arabian peninsula. The Turks brought it with them into their conquered territories, including parts of Europe and Asia Alexander never reached. During the course of the geopolitical rise of Islam the Arabs spread it throughout their domain, from the Middle East and North Africa all the way into Spain and Southern Italy.

The Spanish dishes of Arroz con Pollo and Paella and the basic methods behind Italian Risotto all stem from that Arab/Persian legacy. More on Spain in a moment.

The dish also spread eastward. The Mughal rulers of Northern India (and modern day Bangladesh, Kashmir and Pakistan) brought Islamic culture and religion to the subcontinent, and with it a variety of pilaf variations, such as Briyani and Pilau. In the parts of Southeast Asia where ethnic Indian communities traveled to (Burma and Indonesia especially) they brought variants of pilaf with them. Visitors to Singapore and Malaysia will find the same cooking style for pilaf utilizing Southeast Asian ingredients and flavors.

Over on the Iberian peninsula; the Spaniards reconquered their country after almost 800 years of Muslim rule. In 1492 they began both a campaign of ethnically cleansing Spain and Portugal of Jews and Muslims, as well as their exploration and colonization of the New World. Rice came with them, as well as refugee communities of Sephardi Jews who brought the Middle Eastern style rice, noodle and broth preparations. The descendants of those dishes can be seen on the everyday Mexican table in the Sopa Secas (literally “dry soups”) served with all main meals.

Rice pilaf has even become a staple in the US. What did you think Rice-a-Roni was?

Sopa Seca con Fideos

The running current of all these dishes, beyond being rice cooked in broth, is that they lend themselves to being served to large groups. Pilaf isn’t something you throw together for yourself, it’s a dish representative of hospitality traditions spanning the globe. From the breaking of a Ramadan fast in Jakarta, an upscale hotel in India, a Bedouin tent or a Quinceañera in El Paso- the presence of a rice pilaf transforms a meal into a feast.

So how the hell do you make it?

At it’s most basic; all you’ll need is long grain rice and good flavorful stock. The rest is a matter of plugging in different savories, spices, meats, fruits, vegetables, nuts and noodles to customize it to whatever framework you want it to fit in. Below is the basic technique, along with a few different variations you can try. Mix and match them. Experiment. That’s how we got the wealth of pilaf recipes we have now.

Your basic ratio should be 1 part rice; 2 parts stock.
Any long grain rice will do, but Indian Basmati rice is ideal for fluffy pilafs where the grains are separate. I recommend rinsing and draining the rice three times, making sure it’s not too damp when you’re ready to cook.

The flavor of the stock is up to you. Neutral stocks like chicken and vegetable tend to be flavorful without overpowering the other components. If you’re serving lamb with your pilaf, then use lamb stock, and so on. Make a little more than you need, just in case, and have your stock just short of boiling when you’re ready to cook.

Before you heat up your cooking fat in a heavy bottomed pan with a tight fitting lid; you’re going to need to consider a few things. Namely; which of the following ingredients you care to incorporate:

  • Cooking Fat:
    Vegetable oil, Olive oil, Grapeseed oil or Ghee (clarified butter)
  • Starches:
    Rice (rinsed), dry toasted noodles (like fideos)
  • Savories
    Onion, Garlic, Carrot, Chopped Peppers, Ginger,  Mushrooms.
  • Spices
    Curry or Cardamon and Fennel Seed (for Indian-style), Cinnamon and Cardamon (Turkish/Persian), Saffron, Cumin and Cardamon (Middle Eastern).
  • Veggies, Fruit & Nuts:
    Peas, Tomatoes, Raisins, Grapes, Cashews, Slivered Almonds, Sultanas, Chopped Dates, Apples.

So you heat your fat in the pan to medium high. Throw in your onions and saute until translucent (or brown them if you prefer a stronger flavor).
Toss in your rice and stir constantly until each grain is lightly toasted.
If you’re using toasted noodles; throw them in now.
Add your spices and remaining savories and stir until lightly toasted.
Add your stock and any fruits, veggies or nuts you plan on adding. Stir well.
Bring to a boil and cover. Immediately bring to a low simmer.

That’s it! It should take about 35-45 minutes to cook.
DO NOT OPEN THE POT BEFORE THAT!

Once all the liquid is absorbed; fluff with a fork and serve immediately. If you don’t open it too many times; you can keep it warm in the oven with the lid tightly sealed.

Serve by itself or with anything that sounds good. Enjoy.

 

 

 

The Martes Chronicles: Tortilla Me Up, Tortilla Me Down

After my totally fair and in no way hyperbolic critique of the Walk-A-Taco last month, I expected more people to come to its defense. Apparently I made a pretty good case against the product, as most of the feedback I received was in agreement with my less-than-positive appraisal.

The only thing that seemed to throw people were a few throwaway comments I made disparaging flour tortillas. I’ve made no secret of my Mexican food snobbery and the various excuses I have for expecting you to tolerate it. At the same time; I don’t consider myself some kind of omnipotent expert on the subject. There are limits to my knowledge, and as much as I might like to be, I’m not the Space-Pope of Mexican food.

Rick Bayless is the Space Pope of Mexican food

That would be this guy.

It just happens to be something I was raised with; that I’m both deeply familiar with and constantly learning something new about. If Mexican food can be quantified as a single entity (which is asking a lot) it holds the strongest sense memories for me. Every Mexican dish and technique in my repertoire, simple or complex, in inextricably tied to people, places and events from my life. The smells and tastes often remind me of family and friends; parties held; romances kindled; places visited long ago.
Even the right combination of stray scents from the right restaurant or mercado, caught on a random street in a random American city, will transport me to being three years old in a Juarez market with my parents.

Often just the suggestion of Mexican food, even bad Mexican food, will make my mouth water like nothing else. This isn’t like a “reclaiming my lost childhood” kind of thing either; I’ve always been this way. Sesame Street was on right before lunch when I was a kid.
How could you not NEED tacos after watching this?

It’s easily my favorite culinary framework to operate in, being a perfect combination of challenging and familiar, with enough breath and depth to never be boring. I guess what I’m trying to say is that when I’m cooking you Mexican food, I’m showing off as much as possible.

I also happen to think, and this is merely my opinion, that when ranked against the other three major cuisines (arguably: Chinese, Italian and French. Feel free to disagree) that Mexican cuisine DESTROYS them in terms of sophistication and influence.

But I repeat.

I’ll give all due credit to the Chinese for inventing cooked food, the French for innovating technique and the Italians for showing the world how to treat ingredients- among many other obvious contributions to world cuisine. But remove the tomato, corn, beans, squash, sweet potato, peanuts, chile peppers, avocado, chocolate and vanilla (all of which either originated or were cultivated in Pre-Columbian Mexico) from those cuisines and many of their “classics” become less than awesome.

In terms of sophistication; read about how the Mayans and Aztecs figured out how to process chocolate and vanilla; both of which require precise fermentation and processing in order to transform the raw ingredients into the flavors we recognize. If they were smart enough to figure that out on their own, then they were certainly smart enough to build pyramids without extraterrestrial assistance.

http://twitpic.com/5qa0it

I’ve been cooking a lot of simple Mexican food for myself lately. About four days a week, I make my own tortillas.
Now, I don’t hate flour tortillas. Given the choice I’ll almost always choose corn over flour and I have a lot of difficulty accepting flour tortillas for items like tacos and enchiladas, but sometimes you want/need a burrito and flour is the only thing that will do.

Part of my snobbery stems from my upbringing, but it was working at the Restaurant of the Peninsular States Just Below California where I became spoiled on flour tortillas fresh off the comal. Corn tortillas have a fairly lengthy shelf life if stored properly. Flour tortillas begin to taste bad the moment they begin to cool down. Factory-made flour tortillas are particularly bad this way, as the heavy amount of shortening they use to keep the tortillas moist takes on an unappealing sour taste in no time.
Most burrito joints will warm these factory-mades on a flattop of some sort, but anyone who’s eaten a leftover burrito that they had in the fridge for a night knows that the tortilla is gonna be the worst part.

So I’ll eat flour tortillas; but I’m picky about when I do.

Making them at home is no picnic. You can buy flour tortilla mixes like White Wings at most large grocery stores (requiring only that you add water). They’re a staple in lots of homes and they make for a great product. The problem is that even the instant mixes require a lot of kneading and rolling out by hand, and failure to use a roller properly can result in tortillas that belong in the pita bread family. If you have the time and the energy; fresh flour tortillas are totally worth the effort and can elevate a meal quite a bit.

The other potential downside to flour tortillas is the lack of options for leftovers. Even homemade ones start to taste funky after a couple of days. They don’t make very good chips, or fry well for soups, so I find the best option is to make pizzas out of them.

Nothing is this world, however, can touch the fresh, soft corn tortilla.

First off; the smell of fresh masa is amazing. Whether in comes from a mix at the grocery store or it’s being ground fresh in a Mexican marketplace; it’s easily one of my favorite smells. Getting up early in the morning and making a stack of corn tortillas to last through the day improves the quality of every day I do it. They can be a lot of work for one person (like a lot of Mexican food, tortillas are a lot more fun when made in an assembly line of family or friends), but once you get the technique down, it’s no more difficult than baking bread.

 

Masa mix can be purchased at nearly any large grocery store, but Mexican mercados might carry fresh ground masa or other specialties like blue corn masa. I use a cast iron pan to cook mine on; and I recommend you do the same.


Because I make a lot of tortillas at home, buying a tortilla press made sense a long time ago. My wife and I went through two Mexican-made cast aluminum presses before we realized that our tortilla making was too heavy duty for these common grocery store models.

While shopping in an Indian grocery store, we stumbled on a cast iron chapati press (size 4) that seemed perfectly suited to our needs. We’ve had the same one for more than five years and it’s been nothing but reliable. The one in the picture above isn’t ours.
Ours came with a swastika on it for some reason.

I’ve posted plenty of taco-related recipes on here before, but when you’ve finished with tacos and still have plenty of leftover corn tortillas you have a whole world of other options for them.

  • You can fry them whole for tostadas or roll them up with cheese for flautas (or taquitos, if you will).
  • You can fry large strips or triangle for your own homemade tortilla chips (always better than from a bag) or for chilaquiles.

My personal favorite is migas (featured at the very top of the page). A simple combination of day-old corn tortillas torn roughly and sauteed in oil until crispy with onions and peppers, then scrambled up with eggs. Migas are a little more Tex-Mex, especially with the addition of cheese, salsa and sour cream, which even I can’t resist some times.

There are no hard and fast rules for how to make them, but the basic ratio is two 6″ tortillas to every one egg, and the order into the pan goes as follows:
Tortillas; onions; chiles; eggs; cheese; cilantro; etc…

Of course the greatest thing anyone can do with a tortilla chip; the one thing all little pieces of corn dream of being a part of someday; is the nacho.

But I think y’all already know how I feel about nachos.

The Martes Chronicles: What’s So Hard About Eating a Taco?

The small handful of you that follow us on Twitter or listen to the podcast might be familiar with my gripe about the “Walk-A-Taco“; a local food item currently being promoted at Target Field.

Despite being the product of Saint Paul’s iconic Latin market, El Burrito Mercado, the Walk-a-Taco is essentially everything that Americans get wrong with Mexican food compounded into a conical travesty of shredded lettuce and ground beef. The supreme wrongness of the concept, along with the condescending tone in which it’s marketed to Target Field patrons, reaches a level of stupidity so epic that my body is unable to produce the sarcasm necessary to express how much it bothers me.

I’ll try anyway.

Stupid Thing #1: The Concept.

According to El Burrito Mercado’s Tomas Silva; this conical abomination was created with the intention to “Make it so people could enjoy good Mexican food in an easier format”. I’ll get into how not-Mexican the actual contents are in a moment; but for now I want to focus on the forehead-slapping stupidity of the above statement.

An “easier format”. AN EASIER FORMAT?

Is there an easier cuisine on earth to eat than Mexican food? Were the people of Minnesota clamoring for an easier vehicle in which to deliver ground beef and onions into their mouths? Should we add “eating the world’s simplest street food” to the list of things Minnesotans can’t do, along with “navigate a four-way Stop sign” or “win a Super Bowl*”?

*Burn.

Being a non-native Minnesotan; I give the locals a lot of crap for being dumb; but always with the caveat that they’re mostly smart with a tendency to do dumb things. Sure they vote wrastlers and unemployed comedians to public office; but there’s plenty of good museums, theaters and schools to make up for it. They’re not Missouri or Oklahoma dumb, more like Massachusetts dumb.

But to take something like a taco, which is purpose built for holding in your hand while you eat it, and somehow find a way to dumb it down because “DURRRR! EATING TACOS MAKES MY BRAIN HURT!” drags this state to Mississippi-levels of dumbassery.

Look! Here’s a four year old eating a taco while standing up. Notice how he’s not crying for his mommy to show him how to do it. Notice how he’s not having any kind of aneurism due to the complex logistics involved in taco eating.

Now perhaps the Minnesota contingent reading this will argue; “But Headchef! Clearly this boy is some kind of child prodigy future rocket surgeon. Eating a taco while standing is not something that any idiot can do!

I submit the following evidence to the contrary:

Pictured: Two idiots eating tacos while standing.

Stupid Thing #2: The Execution

A quick browsing of my iTunes library will demonstrate to anyone that I have a high tolerance, nay- a love, of lowbrow trash. One thing I am ruthlessly snobbish about, however, is Mexican food.

Growing up in the Southwest and California, having Mexican half-siblings and learning to cook from these family members instilled in me a deep and abiding love for authentic Mexican cuisine in all its variations. I dig Tex-Mex food as well, but I’ve known since I was about 6 that if your taco/tostada/burrito is covered in shredded lettuce, cheddar cheese and sour cream- then it ain’t really Mexican food, tasty as it may be.

That’s the other thing that infuriates me about the Walk-a-Taco; is that almost nothing about it bears any resemblance to a taco. Head down I35 to Laredo some time, purchase yourself a flak jacket and head across the border to get a taco.

If you order from a stand where Mexicans are eating; the first thing you’ll notice is that your tacos, in addition to costing roughly 12 cents each, look like this:

Lengua Taco

Lengua Taco on Home-made Tortilla

That’s some braised cow tongue on a handmade SOFT CORN tortilla, garnished simply with chopped onion and cilantro. If you want to go really crazy you can throw some salsa or a thin taqueria guacamole on there; but anything else is essentially gilding the lily.

The Walk-a-taco eschews simplicity, authenticity and good taste for the Midwestern standby of PILING ON THE CHEESE AND TOPPINGS!

First off- the whole thing is stuffed into a fried flour tortilla. This makes sense from a structural standpoint considering the mess of toppings within, but is a big fail in the nomenclature department, as the the fried flour shell would put it more in chimichanga territory than anything else.

Further investigation from this guy’s excellent review reveals the ugly truth: The Walk-a-taco is, in fact, less a taco than a taco salad. Apparently once you drop below the ground beef facade and into the tortilla itself; the contents are mostly shredded lettuce dressed in vinaigrette!

For those of you keeping score at home; the cumulative offenses of the Walk-a-Taco are as follows:

  • Fried flour tortilla
  • Ground beef
  • Shredded lettuce
  • Cheddar cheese
  • Sour cream
  • Chopped tomatoes
  • The perfunctory addition of jalapenos and cilantro
  • Motherfucking salad dressing

The most offensive detail comes courtesy of Josh’s review; that the Walk-a-Taco not only comes with a fork, but requires one in order to be eaten.

WHAT THE FUCK?

To review: The “taco” designed to make Mexican food “more accessible” and “easier to eat” is neither more accessible or easier to eat than an actual taco, nor is it remotely Mexican. The Walk-a-Taco is an absolute failure of concept, execution and delivery.

It’s a fucked-out boondoggle of a food item that could barely be eaten sitting on the couch in front of the TV; let alone at the ballpark it was intended to be eaten at. A cold seafood tower makes more sense as ballpark fare than this faux-Mexican abortion in a cone.

The most infuriating part is that if they really wanted to have a ballpark-ready Tex-Mex item that’s a portable mess of ground beef, cheese and sour cream; they could have simply used the one that already exists.

It’s called the Walking Taco. It’s a bag of corn chips (usually Fritos) cut open with a bunch of Tex-Mex toppings like chili and cheese dumped on top of them. They’re popular all over the Southwest at rodeos and football games, and while they do require a fork to eat, you can actually eat them while standing or walking.

I really wish I could have been present at the meeting where they decided an inedible mess of a taco salad served in a giant Bugle made more sense at Target Field than a Tex-Mex classic with practically the SAME FUCKING NAME.

No doubt they spent enough time watching the locals struggle with four way Stop signs and decided they didn’t want to risk customers suffocating themselves with the chip bag.

….

I went to Target Field for the third time this year and saw plenty of suckers carrying Walk-a-Tacos around. Not in their hands, mind you. No, they needed a cardboard stand to hold them in while they brought their shit-in-a-tortilla back to their seats.

Two days later I made flank steak tacos for a friend’s birthday; complete with handmade tortillas. We found ourselves outside on my porch watching the Aquatennial fireworks while we were eating. The view necessitated that we stand up while eating our tacos and, shockingly, no one broke their neck doing so.

Anyway; if you want to know how to make a taco that doesn’t suck; here’s the recipe for tacos de lengua. Try not to kill yourselves eating them.

 

 

The Martes Chronicles: 110° is Soup Weather

Caldo de pollo

EDITOR’S NOTE: Martes Chronicles is Headchef’s new regular column, and can be found here at Reducer every Tuesday.

If you’re living in one of the 17+ states currently experiencing a brutal heatwave; you’ve probably noticed that it’s hot out, Bucky.

Dog-kicking hot*.

The last few days have featured the kind of heat and humidity that give Vietnam flashbacks to 8 year-olds, and fill the heads of adults and children alike with elaborate plans for refrigerator tents.

It’s uncomfortable at best, but some people are behaving as though this is the first time in recorded history that summer has been hot. Having spend the summers of my youth in New Mexico, Texas and Florida; the heatwave we’re experiencing in Minnesota lacks a certain novelty for me. Don’t get me wrong; it’s gross and I hate it and I wouldn’t recommend going out and playing soccer in it, but having toughed it out as a wheezing little kid, it’s not so tough as a wheezing adult.

In this kind of weather most people would rather be doing two-a-day football practices than spend any time cooking in a kitchen, so they go to restaurants to enjoy the air conditioning (a feature typically not installed in the kitchen where your food is being made). Even barbequing, a normally robust and favored activity, becomes dangerous when the heat index is pushing 115°.

People with working air conditioning don’t really have this problem. When you live in a perpetually-chilled wine cellar, not only does the heat outside not bother you, but you’re not subject to the hot-weather metabolism everyone else is experiencing. For example; if you’re out in the hot sun all day (or an ancient apartment building with no AC) and you can actually muster the energy to eat, you’re probably going to crave lighter fare like salads or pitchers of margaritas. Maybe you can stomach a hamburger if it’s late enough at night, but for the most part you and food maintain a tenuous distance during the hottest days of summer.

Not the privileged few living in the blast-chiller. People with AC are living in the future. Four months in the future, to be exact. Their bodies have been magically transported to November and so have their appetites. Air conditioning isn’t what jacks up your electricity in the summer; it’s the crockpot and bread machine you’ll have running at all times if you DO have AC. This is why people from Florida and Houston, where it’s 110° and humid all year round, are still so damn fat.

Head to a place with 100°+ weather and oppressive humidity where AC is a rare exception rather than the rule; and you’re pretty likely to find people eating hot soup in order to cool down. Pho, ramen, miso, matzoh ball, caldo- these are all perfect summer soups. I live on these soups during the summer.

In fact, if I don’t have hot soup for a meal at least once a week during the summer I tend to get really bad colds because I ride my bike in the city and inhale a lot of toxic shit. You ever ride your bike on a hot, dusty day and end up feeling like your palate is made of steel wool? Hot soup (especially spicy soups) will make you feel human again. Miso soup is particularly good for removing toxins related to air pollution, and a well-made bowl can be shockingly refreshing at the end of a hot day dodging traffic.

Caldo de Pollo, or Mexican chicken soup, is my favorite standby. Pretty much any Mexican broth-centric soup is good eating in this weather. Most of them are based on simple stocks offset with whatever is on hand. Many of them seem to work best as a breakfast, and if you’ve never experienced a huge bowl of Mexican soup for breakfast I highly recommend it. If you know where to look; there are plenty of small restaurants that specialize in it. Or you could make your own.

No pressure.

If you haven’t read my classic menudo recipe; you should check that out. If tripe and beef feet are a little too hardcore for you; here’s the puss-out method:

  • Throw four chicken thighs in a large pot with a quartered onion, ten cloves of garlic, two bay leaves and a few peppercorns. Fill with water and bring to a boil.
  • Once boiling, skim off scum from top of stock and reduce (ha!) heat to simmer. Let it bubble until it reduces by 1/4.
  • Cover a handfull of dried chiles in boiling water. Let sit for 20 minutes. Strain the chiles, reserving the water. Remove stems and seeds.
  • Puree the chillies in the chile water with a can of tomatoes.
  • Remove chicken thighs from stock and let them cool before removing bones.
  • Put the chicken along with the chile mixture into the stock with 1 tablespoon Mexican oregano. Bring to a boil.
  • Reduce to a simmer. Salt to taste.
  • Serve in large bowls with fried tortilla strips, avocado slices, chopped onion, chopped cilantro, wedges of lime. Fresh tortillas or Mexican bread are great for soaking up soup as well.

There you have it. It’s infinitely adaptable. I’ve made vegan and vegetarian versions of this. Experiment with it and see what you get.

Am I crazy, or does anyone else like soup in the summer?

*This is a Southern Expression. Reducer Network does not support kicking dogs.

Honeycomb Tripe… Yeah Yeah Yeah!

It's not small... No no no!

If when you hear the word “Menudo”, all you can think of is the Puerto Rican boyband where Ricky Martin got his start, I feel deeply sorry for you. In reality; Menudo is a rich Mexican soup of beef tripe and hominy that doubles as both a common wedding recipe and hangover cure (typically for the morning after the wedding party).

Growing up in the Southwest and visiting Mexico frequently with my parents; I had my share of menudo and pozole (another hominy stew) without ever realizing what it was I was eating. It wasn’t until my late teens, when I was hired to videotape a shotgun wedding for some distant relatives, that I had a menudo experience that made an impression on me.

The wedding was between the daughter of WASP’s from suburban Minnesota and the son of Mexican migrant workers. Beyond the hilarious contrast of a wedding party split between uptight white people in their Sunday best and the shabbily-dressed but otherwise clean and well-coiffed lettuce pickers; there was the contrast in the kitchen between cheese-drenched enchiladas, packet-seasoned ground beef, taco pie and, well, actual Mexican food.

I smartly avoided the shredded cheese nightmare of the gringos and ended up spending most of the day nursing bowl after bowl of homemade menudo. It was tangy and red; full of pieces of tripe, hominy and pork that seemed to have been simmering since before the bride and groom had been engaged. With a squeeze of lime and a liberal handful of cilantro floating around in the soup; the contrast of spicy, fatty, meaty, gamey, tangy and astringent was so complex and delicious, that to me it tasted like Mexico in a bowl (Northern Mexico anyway).

Years later when I was living in San Diego; Menudo was readily and cheaply available at all the best taco stands. As I was typically hung over almost every day I lived there; I can vouch for the fact that its restorative properties are equal to (and often exceed) that of the typical tomato juice based cocktails of which I am so fond of for abetting my detoxification.

In the last three years since I’ve stopped eating swine I’ve eaten plenty of tripe, but have avoided ordering menudo because it almost always is made with pigs feet as a base for the stock.

Luckily for me; cows have feet too.

If you’re squeamish about tripe; don’t be such a wuss. It’s a delicious and underutilized part of the cow with a texture similar to fun noodles, that stands up very well to strong flavors and spices.

You’re going to need the following:

  • 2 lbs Beef Tripe, thoroughly rinsed and chopped into 3″ squares
  • 2 lbs Beef Feet, thoroughly cleaned and split lengthwise (ask you butcher to split them if they don’t come that way)
  • 2 oz. Tequila (reposado or añejo) and a couple more for the cook.
  • 3 oz. Dried Ancho Chiles
  • 1 Head of Garlic, peeled
  • 1 tablespoon Kosher Salt
  • 2 Teaspoons ground Cumin
  • 1 Teaspoon Whole Peppercorns
  • 30 oz. can White Hominy, drained
  • 16 oz. can Yellow Hominy, drained (If you’re making this for Texans; sub the white hominy for another 30 oz. of yellow)
  • 2 Bay leaves

For garnish:

  • Mexican Oregano (Absolutely no substitutes for this)
  • Chopped White Onion
  • Chopped Cilantro
  • Limes, quartered
  • Fresh corn tortillas and/or Bolillo rolls
  • Cold Mexican Beer or Soda

Put your cleaned tripe and beef feet into a large stock pot and put in enough cold water to just cover them. Add your tequila and bay leaves and bring the pot to a boil, uncovered.

Strangely enough; boiling cow stomach makes your whole house smell like cow burps. There’s really no avoiding it, but here are a couple of tips for dealing with it:

  • Make it outside (That’s how it’s typically done in Texas)
  • Open your windows for first four hours of cooking.
  • Invest in some incense or scented candles.
  • Get used to it.

Once boiling; skim the scum from the top and reduce™ the heat to medium-high so that the liquid is just between a simmer and a boil.  Partially cover with a lid so steam can get out; and let the tripe simmer for at least 4 to 6 hours.

 

 

 

In the meantime; soak your dried chilies in enough hot water to cover them for about 25 minutes or until they get soft.

 

Drain the soaked chilies (reserving the liquid) and remove the seeds and skins from them using a knife. If you are an incredible bad-ass who lives dangerously; do this without rubber gloves. Otherwise- you better don some protection there, J.P. Prewitt.

 

 

Once you’ve thoroughly seeded the chillies; throw them into a food processor with your salt, peppercorns, garlic cloves and cumin.

Adding a little bit of chili water at a time; puree the mixture until it forms a beautiful red paste like this:

 

After about 3 hours of simmering; your soup should be ready for the addition of the chili mixture. Go ahead and stir that in; then let it simmer for another couple of hours.

There’s a little bit of gray area here. 6 hours should be a minimum guideline for cooking your menudo; but I don’t like to serve it until the feet come apart and the soup is filled with rich pieces of collagen and tender bits of meat. If you plan on serving it for breakfast (HIGHLY RECOMMENDED) then pull it off the heat after 6 hours the night before; add the drained hominy in the morning and bring it back up to a high simmer for another two hours.

 

Either way; around the seven hour mark your soup should look like this; with the tripe tender enough to chew and the feet at least beginning to fall apart.

Again; the more patient you are with this menudo the better it will turn out.

 

 

Whatever time frame you settle on; when you’re at least two hours from serving the menudo you can stir in the drained hominy and let it get back up to a simmer.

Some of the recipes I’ve looked at warn against adding it too soon, but even after making a batch with hominy one day and reheating it the next, I never had a problem with it plumping up and over-thickening the soup. I suspect the presence of natural gelatin from the beef feet might have had an effect on this, but that’s only a hypothesis.

 

Your finished product should look something like this (note the foot bones completely devoid of meat or collagen). You can add the Mexican oregano at this point; or your diners can add it at their discretion (just make sure it’s in there- the flavor component it adds is key to the whole soup).

Serve the menudo in large bowls with plenty of chopped onion, cilantro and lime juice.

Be sure to have lots of fresh tortillas and bolilllo rolls to soak up the unctuous goodness that is your homemade menudo.

Drink lots of cold beer or soda (Mexican Coke is especially good with this) and revel in the sophisticated joy that a simple thing like honeycomb tripe can provide.

 

 

Reducer Podcast 102: Fun’s Fun, But Seriously We Love Mexicans

Every joke in this episode compiled into one picture.

In the second episode of the ever-regressing Reducer Podcast; Brian, Jawn and Joe discuss the food they cooked for the Super Bowl, argue over ethnic salts, weigh the cultural importance of TV’s Jenna Von Oy, introduce our “Hack of the Week” segment and debate the eternal struggle between cake and pie. In between tales from behind the bar; Jawn ties Black History Month to food and George Washington Carver’s invention of the Nut Goodie

Tecate is the sheeeet.

As always, there’s plenty of inappropriate language, terrible peanut puns and vaguely racist jokes about Mexicans. On the plus side there’s lots of good bits about Mexican Beer, Hawaiian food and why it’s hard for a man to get a job cooking on the quinceañera circuit.

Warning: Explicit Language. Not suitable for adults.

REEEEEEEEMIIIIIIIIIIX!: Tacos de lengua

Remixed lengua tacos

Sorry about the picture quality. I ate it before I had the chance for re-shoots.

You know we had to do a remix, right? Last night’s tacos de lengua converted to huevos rancheros simply by frying leftover corn tortillas, putting some refried beans on them and going to town with a couple fried eggs.
You’re welcome.

Tacos That Kiss You Back

Taco_01

Like making out with a cow.

If my Cowboys had played at home in this Super Bowl, I would have made chili.

Tix-ass chili; made with cubed chuck, onions, chili powder, tomato and nothing else.      Kick-your-ass chili befitting of a Dallas Super Bowl; no doubt culminating in Tony Romo hoisting the Lombardi trophy in front of a cheering crowd.

Obviously that never materialized. The Cowboys sucked more than usual this year, so chili just seemed too festive for a Super Bowl where the Stealers might win another trophy (spoiler alert: So awesome that they didn’t!). I ended up making tacos de lengua (beef tongue tacos) because they still fit the Texas theme along with being relatively cheap, easy to make and incredibly tasty with a cold beer (or six).

People who didn’t grow up eating tongue might be grossed out by the idea of eating part of the cows digestive tract. I can only tell you squeamish folk that you’re missing out on one of the tastiest parts of the cow.

I personally think eating tongue is way less gross than eating a hotdog, but whatever.

You’re going to need the following:

  • 3 1/2 lb beef tongue (Any reputable Mexican or Jewish butcher will have this)
  • 1 large yellow onion, quartered
  • 1 whole head of garlic, peeled. Half of cloves left whole, half chopped roughly.
  • 4 bay leaves
  • 1 teaspoon whole black peppercorns
  • 1 teaspoon each: Mexican oregano, smoked paprika, chili powder
  • 1 tablespoon raw sugar
  • 1 tablespoon shoyu or tamari
  • 1 tablespoon whole pequin chilis
  • 2 teaspoons fennel seed
  • Kosher salt to taste
  • Soft corn tortillas
  • Cilantro

tongue

Put the  whole tongue, onion, peppercorns, bay leaves and whole cloves of garlic in a large pot and fill it with cold water. Add a tablespoon of kosher salt and bring to a boil.

covered tongueCover the pot and simmer on medium low for 2 hours. While that simmers; heat up a pan (steel or cast iron) on medium-high without any oil in it.

Toss in the fennel and pequin chilies; stirring them quickly with a wooden spoon until they begin to get toasted (about 2 minutes)

chiles and seeds

Transfer the toasted spices to a mortar and pestle, molcajete or food processor. Add a pinch of kosher salt and grind the spices into a reasonably uniform powder.

ground chiles

Boiled Tongue

After two hours of simmering; the tongue should look like a 97 Jordan

tongue & forkAfter two hours; pull tongue from pot set out to cool for a few minutes. Take the pot of liquid the tongue boiled in off the heat, but keep it handy.

Peel outer layer of tongue away with a sharp knife. It should come right off.

tongue peel

Heat a dutch oven or pan with a lid to medium high with a tablespoon of oil in it. Slice the tongue crosswise into 1 inch slices. Fry the slices a couple at a time until browned on each side. Keep them set aside on a plate until all the tongue pieces are browned.

When finished frying slices; turn heat off but keep the remaining fat in the pan.

Chop the slices into even sized one-inch cubes and set aside.

Heat reserved beef fat in pan back up to medium high and add chopped garlic. Stir with wooden spoon for a minute and a half; making sure the garlic doesn’t burn.

Add oregano, paprika, chili powder and pequin/fennel powder. Stir for another minute.

Add the chopped tongue and stir around in the chili mixture.

Add the sugar and shoyu. Stir around quickly for 30 seconds. Add three cups of the reserved cooking liquid you made the tongue in; turn heat up to high and bring to a boil.

Once it begins to boil; give it a stir; cover it and bring the heat down to medium-low.

Here’s where you can get a little creative.

You’ll want to simmer the tongue for at least another hour; stirring occasionally to keep it from scorching; but for the most part it should be okay on its own.

I say an hour at a minimum. That should be all it takes to get a nice flavor and texture; but you should still have a pretty good amount of the cooking liquid left over. You could potentially nurse the braise for several hours; letting it reduce to a thicker sauce before adding a ladle or two of liquid to thin it out a bit; then reducing it again.

Repeating this process would develop and concentrate the flavors really nicely, and because the tongue is such a sturdy piece of meat, the number of times you do it are limited only by your patience.

However long you decide to cook your tongue, your end product should look something like the above photo. Heat up some corn tortillas (or better yet, make them yourself), tear up some cilantro and pick out a hot sauce.

Then make these pickled onions this or any other time you make Mexican food.

Slice two onions (one red, one white) and throw them in a pan. Cover them with cold water and bring them to a boil.

Once boiled drain them immediately and put them in a glass bowl with:

  • two cups white vinegar
  • one teaspoon salt
  • two bay leaves
  • 1/2 teaspoon ground allspice

Mix it, cover it and put it in the fridge. Best after a day but ready to serve after three hours.

Do yourself a favor and don’t put any cheese on it; you’d just be gilding the lily.

Crack open a cold beer and enjoy your tacos with some pickled carrots that you made the same way as the onions; you suave and sophisticated so and so.