Last month, we attended a media event at Maria Maria in downtown Austin. I had no real expectations going in. It’s a chain restaurant bearing the Carlos Santana name. One’s gut instinct might be to expect the worst: perhaps a highly focused Hard Rock situation. But the price was right for giving it a shot, and the menu sounded interesting, so away we went.
Ever since we acquired the KitchenAid stand mixer, homemade bread has become a staple in our house. I’m perfectly fine with kneading bread; in fact, I even enjoy it. However, during the hot and sweaty central Texas summer, I have very little interest in toiling over a hunk of dough that’s hell-bent on sticking to everything it comes in contact with, especially when the dough itself is meant to be a bit on the sticky side.
File homemade hot dogs in the “because I can” category. The truth of the matter is that Sean and I like hot dogs, so generally the fewer questions we ask about what they’re made of, the better. However, since I’ve gathered all the tools (grinder, stuffer, smoker), I’ve been itching to try to make them myself. In fact, hot dogs were second only to home-cured bacon on my DIY charcuterie wishlist.
You’d think I’d have learned by now that sometimes my ingrained politeness gets in the way. I’d been dreaming of our dinner reservation at Uchiko for a solid week (and dreaming in a less time-dimensioned manner even before that). We walked in for our early evening reservation and were seated at an interior table. I glanced longingly at the light-drenched booths by the windows but didn’t want to ask for one them since they were all four-tops. I should have pushed for it. Instead, though Sean worked very hard, our pictures will likely not adequately convey the glory of the food we were able to try out during Uchiko’s pre-opening last week.
If you’re on the fence about whether to join a CSA, summer would definitely be a good time to find out. Gone are the dreary greens and root vegetables (generally anyway) which I had been struggling to use. Instead, our early June box was absolutely brimming with gorgeous spring and summer produce. I had fun showing Sean our bounty once I had returned from picking up our goodies. (Our CSA, Johnson’s Backyard Garden, is now on Twitter and Facebook, by the way.)
It’s no secret that I’m a fan of Anthony Bourdain, so it’ll come as no surprise that I’ve very much enjoyed reading his latest book, Medium Raw. In reading through my review of The Nasty Bits in 2008, I realize that a lot of what I could say about this book will sound the same. He’s older, wiser, still snarky, still humble. But this is the better work, and I’ll do my best to tell you why I loved it so.
I really don’t mind kneading dough for bread. It’s interesting to feel the texture change as you work the dough, and for the longest time, I felt that it was the only way to get it right. However, once I got the KitchenAid (you know, for grinding sausage), I discovered that for very little effort at all, I can have freshly baked sandwich bread and hamburger buns. For even less effort (and no stand mixer to clean up), I can have a lovely “artisan” loaf using the no-knead method.
Often, for Sean and I, eating out is an occasion. And especially since we’ve been watching our budget, it’s something we’ve saved for special occasions. But what if you just want really excellent food without all the fanfare and expense. For that, I would suggest Foreign and Domestic.
I don’t know why this didn’t occur to me sooner. I bitch and moan about the heat here every summer, and yet I rarely make frozen desserts of any kind. It took my friendly neighborhood CSA and an excess of basil along with some suggestions from my Twitter friends to convince me that I needed to try my hand at popsicles.
The definition of a guilty pleasure. That’s how I’ve been referring to the food at The Trailer at The Gibson Bar. And I refer to it often. We were recently invited to experience firsthand the wonder that is the Trailer Burger (a burger whose bun is a Round Rock dough-nut), but let me assure you, that wasn’t even the most decadent item consumed.