VIEW SLIDESHOW: Wylie Dufresne's Alder: Better Bar Food Through Science
[Photographs: Max Falkowitz]
157 2nd Avenue, New York, NY 10003 (b/n 9th and 10th; map); 212-539-1900; aldernyc.com Service: Professional, casually smart, unobstrusive Setting: Clean and modern but warm; sound level relatively civil Must-Haves: Pub cheese, fried cauliflower, chicken liver toast Cost: Small plates $9 to $24, cocktails $12 to $13 (select half-pours $6); expect to pay around $30 to $40 for food Compare To: Pearl & Ash, The Pines Hours: 6 p.m. to 11 p.m. Recommendation: Highly recommended; excellent cocktails and everything you want in a small plates restaurant
For 10 years at wd~50, chef Wylie Dufresne has proven that you don't need to be brand new at the game to be on the cutting edge. The restaurant has doubled as a lab for modernist technique, from meat glues to wobbly gels, in an artistic-meets-scientific endeavor to show how far we can take our food—and how fun the journey can be. You lose count of the chefs that owe their insights and chops to working in his kitchen.
His new venture Alder—his first since wd~50—is a subtler place, casual in its setting and more reined in. Dufresne is a master of the baroque—you don't make noodles out of seafood without dreaming big—but he also knows restraint. He has stayed with wd~50 for a decade, an eternity in today's New York restaurant years, avoiding television fame or branded pasta sauces so he can keep to his work. This new restaurant (with executive chef Jon Bignelli) and bar (director Kevin Denton) takes the best of that studied creativity and deploys it with great care.
Ambitious but unfulfilling small plates restaurants are a dime a dozen these days, so leave it to Dufresne to school them on how it's done. Because Alder may be the very definition of a great small plates restaurant. It's fun here. You can drink well. The food is exciting even when it's not perfect. And you can eat to feel nourished, not just entertained. People have been calling Alder a "pub," which is wrong both for pubs and for Alder, but the restaurant makes a strong case for better living, and drinking, through chemistry.

Dr. Dave's scrip pad.
It starts with cocktails, most of which are $12, though some are available in half-pours for $6. Small plates? Meet small drinks. Given how easy-to-drink they are, it's a smart move that lets you sample the bar's talents a little at a time, at your own pace. My favorite is Dr. Dave's Scrip Pad, an Old Overholt rye and Ramazzotti amaro drink that doesn't taste like every other bitter brown whiskey thing; there's smoked maple syrup and yuzu juice for a super-smooth, multi-dimensional sipper that revives your faith in sweet drinks and their role at the dinner table. The Hey Rube comes in at a close second, a lightly fizzy mix of Ford's gin and Pimm's with rhubarb and cucumber: a Pimm's cup refined down to the essentials, a little tart, a little sweet, more thoughtful than you'd think on first sip. This is how Alder gets you. The Bikini Season, grassy Avua cachaça mixed with makrud lime and Velvet Falernum, is less inventive but superbly balanced, and the thought of having it around this summer is enough to make Alder my new favorite East Village bar.
The 17-item menu ranges in price from $9 to $24, starting with Dufresne'd bar snacks and ending with something analogous to entrées. It's hard not to stare agog, if only for a moment, at the Pub Cheese ($9), a purple blob of cheddar, cream cheese, shallots, red wine, and carageenan blended until Velveeta-smooth, smeared on a black slate with crumbles of sweet pistachio brittle. Not just for the weirdness of the thing, but for its generous portion—the spread with its compressed Martin's potato roll "chips" is the kind of bar snack you wish never ends, and it doesn't.

Pub cheese.
More finite are the Pigs in a Blanket, six little bites for $12,* a cute and effective Chinese takeout mashup of fatty-sweet Chinese sausage wrapped in compressed hot dog buns (the pasta machine doubles as Bread Compressor at Alder), then deep fried and served with sinus-clearing mustard (like the packets, but better) and duck sauce-esque chili jam. These are bar snacks I can get behind. A lineup of four Caesar Nigiri ($16), where romaine hearts and egg yolk replace rice and wasabi, doesn't wow as much, but that's okay, there's still more pub cheese to eat.
* Alder's menu actually tells you how many pieces of composed bites come to an order. Hooray!
You can treat Alder like a cocktail bar with great food and have a lovely time. Or you can make a reservation and commit to a DIY tasting menu, sampling bites here and there until you've had your fill and then some. In a way, these are the easy things for a small plates restaurant to do well: a couple good little bites or a blowout meal of one big ticket. But I like that you can also visit Alder for a regular dinner, order a few dishes, and get enough to eat without breaking the bank. Look to the middle of Alder's menu and you'll find surprising value items.

Fried cauliflower.
For one, take the Fried Cauliflower ($15), a whole head of cauliflower deep fried naked until it's browned all over and just-tender within, and portioned like the vegetable equivalent of prime rib. It comes on a purée of preserved lemon, almonds, and lemon oil and gets toppings of melty lardo and crunchy cacao nibs. Here we have a cauliflower dish that tastes unapologetically of cauliflower, tender and sweet, enriched but not overpowered by its creamy, nutty, and crunchy accompaniments. A slight quibble for the kitchen: remove the lardo, which is mostly unnecessary, and throw vegetarians a tasty, tasty bone.
Alder has two liver dishes on its menu: one with foie, creamy and refined, the other with chopped chicken liver ($17), something my grandmother might love after a neat bourbons. It's all about texture: soft nubs of chicken livers piled on a crisp slip of cornbread toast, surrounded by equally nubby grapefruit-shallot marmalade. Oh, and chicken skin as good as the best chicharrones, because chopped liver ain't chopped liver here, and the kitchen knows there's more to the organ than just pâté.

Rye pasta.
Towards the bottom of the menu you'll find light entrée portions of Rye Pasta ($18) and Fish & Chips ($18). Skip them and save room for dessert. That pasta really does taste like rye, distressingly like rye, more rye than rye bread—and nothing else to balance it, a noble attempt that doesn't deliver beyond its concept. And though the sweet pea tartar sauce accompanying the fish and chips is an all-star sandwich spread, it can't rescue limply fried, underseasoned fish.
So maybe the small plates fundamentalists are on to something, and larger entrées don't deliver the same punch as their appetizer-sized cohorts. But you should keep the dessert to yourself, at least the Root Beer Pudding ($8), an airy custard complete with foamy head that gets its sasparilla soul from root beer candy. After seven courses and five drinks between a table for two, it couldn't go down fast enough.
That's what makes Alder so compelling to me. So many restaurants fail where it succeeds: in keeping you engaged, taking active pleasure in your meal, from start to finish, no matter how long. Professional and friendly service helps, as does an understated dining room that's modern but warm. They show that Alder's about more than the food on your plate and the drink in your hand; it's about the sheer pleasure of being there, and the nagging need to return for more.
More dishes and drinks in the slideshow »
About the author: Max Falkowitz is the editor of Serious Eats: New York. You can follow him on Twitter at @maxfalkowitz.

[Photographs: Erin Jackson]
By the time I reached The Waffle Window, I had been dreaming of biting into a crisp, warm waffle with crunchy bits of pearl sugar for weeks. More than sipping a Stumptown mocha in an artsy hotel lobby, this is what I was most looking forward to doing in Portland. And, despite the build-up, both options I sampled—a savory spicy bacon cheddar jalapeno, and a sweet, seasonal waffle—exceeded my expectations.
The only downside to visiting The Waffle Window is making the (sometimes agonizing) decision about what to order. There are waffles topped with cream cheese pudding and fruit, drizzled with Guittard bittersweet chocolate and peanut butter, and served in sundae or ice cream sandwich form, to name just a few options. Following my instincts to go with whatever is seasonal, I went with a special: the Rose City ($4.50).

Juicy local strawberries are piled on a Liege-style sugar waffle, with rhubarb sauce and two creamy toppings: rose cream and whipped cream. The whipped cream has only a touch of sugar, while the rose cream is more aggressively sweetened. It has the texture of a mousse: light, and studded with air bubbles, but not much of a flowery flavor. I liked the interplay between the crunchy waffles and the soft, creamy toppings, but you might want to scootch the rose cream off the waffle and do a little portion control so the sweetness of it doesn't overpower the tart rhubarb sauce. If I could go back right now (and I would, probably for the next five days in a row), I'd ask for a little extra on the side.
3610 SE Hawthorne Blvd Portland, OR 97214 (map) 503-239-4756; wafflewindow.com
About the author: Erin Jackson is a food writer and photographer who is obsessed with discovering the best eats in San Diego. You can find all of her discoveries on her San Diego food blog EJeats.com. On Twitter, she's @ErinJax

[Photographs: J. Kenji Lopez-Alt]
It's time for another round of The Food Lab. Got a suggestion for an upcoming topic? Email Kenji here, and he'll do his best to answer your queries in a future post. Become a fan of The Food Lab on Facebook or follow it on Twitter for play-by-plays on future kitchen tests and recipe experiments.
As a burger lover and a pizza lover, I've always liked the idea of some sort of burger-pizza hybrid, but it never really works according to plan. As our Home Slice Adam can tell you, designing a good hamburger pizza is no easy feat (I've yet to see a successful one anywhere, and pizza burgers rarely fare well either.
This one, which is not quite a pizza burger, does a little better, I think.

We start with the basics: the bun. It's a standard burger bun, but rather than toasting it in butter, I toast it in garlic butter, with a bit of oregano and parsley mixed into it. It's not something you'd find on a pizza per se, but it gives the whole thing a bit of that generic Italian Red Sauce feel to it, and that's really what we're going for here.

I've tried making burgers with standard pizza sauce on them, but they never quite work—the sauce doesn't complement meat like it does pizza crust. Instead, I decided to flavor my sauce largely with pepperoni, fried in olive oil until crisp, then reduced in crushed tomatoes. A splash of vinegar at the end adds some tang, which is essential for any kind of burger sauce—it's the missing element in pretty much every pizza burger I've had.

Finally, we get to the cheese. Rather than the mozzarella most opt for, I went with much sharper, tangier provolone, along with some shards of good quality parmesan added at the very end.
About the author: J. Kenji Lopez-Alt is the Chief Creative Officer of Serious Eats where he likes to explore the science of home cooking in his weekly column The Food Lab. You can follow him at @thefoodlab on Twitter, or at The Food Lab on Facebook.
Love hamburgers? Then you'll Like AHT on Facebook! And go follow us on Twitter and Pinterest while you're at it!
Get the Recipe!
By now, you're all familiar with the new recipe box feature on Serious Eats that allows you to save your favorite tested, tasted, and Serious Eats-approved recipes in your personal, searchable, sortable box powered by Ziplist.
Well this month, you have an extra incentive to start saving your recipes: Ziplist is giving away a month's worth of groceries—that's $600 to spend on whatever groceries you'd like.
To enter, each Tuesday this month we'll be announcing a different grilling recipe to add to your recipe box. You'll be entered once for each recipe you add. So add all four recipes, and you've entered yourself four times. Get your spouse/roommate/mother to enter, and you've just doubled your household's chances. Easy, right?
So long as you're signed in with your Serious Eats account, you can add the recipes either directly from Serious Eats, or from your Ziplist box.
For full contest details, see here.
Your next recipe is this Vegetarian Grilled Ratatouille!
Box both of these recipes for two more chances to win!

[Photograph: Pizza Hut]
If you're generally outraged by Pizza Hut's continued riffs on pizza crust, you might enjoy hearing that the company is taking a bare-bones approach and rolling out a line of Firebaked Style Flatbread Pizzas.* Or, you might, you know...not.
*What, you ask is "firebaked" style? Honestly, we're not remotely sure. Connoisseurs of misleading pizza terminology are encouraged to speculate.
The announcement follows close on the heels of more outlandish creations, like Pizza Hut Canada's recently released Cheesy Beef Poutine and Creamy Butter Chicken pies. Clearly geared toward customers disinterested in such far-fetched experiments, the flatbreads "can be topped three different ways with up to three toppings each," and come six to a box for $11.99. Considering that the Hut has continuously tried to push the crust boundaries to their absolute limit, forging new, often questionably successful, frontiers in the art of pizza edges, this latest development verges on boringly simple.
For those pizza fanatics who want their every morsel to push the envelope, regardless of negative health effects, the chain offers more than its fair share of options. But healthy fast food is in right now, and the company seems to be taking note. Kurt Kane, Chief Marketing Officer of the chain, notes, "We wanted to give our fans a lighter crust experience." Looks like Pizza Hut's ready to join the fast food industry's quest to appeal to more health- and weight-conscious consumers. Oh, and yes, we'll be giving this guy a try sometime soon, so stay tuned!
About the authors: Sam Bresnick is a Serious Eats intern, rising junior at Brown University, and dumpling addict. Niki Achitoff-Gray is the Associate Editor of Serious Eats and a part-time student at the Institute of Culinary Education.
VIEW SLIDESHOW: Los Angeles: Tacos, Quesadillas, and More at Downtown's Mercado Olympic
[Photographs: Farley Elliot]
Downtown Los Angeles' Mercado Olympic is the stuff of Mexican food legend. With weekend-only hours, the largely unregulated stalls that pop up along Olympic Boulevard just west of Central Avenue pump out delicious tacos, tortas, burritos, sopes, quesadillas, aguas frescas, and even—deliciously enough—fish sticks. Churros, chorizo, and chicharrones are hawked from stall to stall as you make your way down the cluttered sidewalk, stopping to sort through cheap trinkets or boxes of dried chiles. And since this is the heart of downtown's Piñata District, you'll find plenty of, ahem, close resemblances to popular children's characters, all in destroyable piñata form.
But be forewarned, it can crowded at the Mercado Olympic. With tight walking spaces and slim hours (Saturday and Sunday only, 9 a.m. to 5ish), the warm weekends can sometimes get even hotter when you're crammed under some tents on a strip of sidewalk in treeless downtown Los Angeles. Plus, with sizzling oil and warm planchas for grilling, it's almost guaranteed to be a sweat lodge by 1 p.m. A tasty, delicious sweat lodge of Mexican delights.
Check out the slideshow for some of the best that the Mercado Olympic has to offer.
About the author: Farley Elliott is a freelance writer and comedian living in Los Angeles. He maintains a weekly taco column for SeriousEats.com, as well as a weekly alcohol events column for KCET.org. He also blogs about burgers, comedy shows and holds celebrity interviews for LAist.com and the Earwolf podcast network.

[Photographs: Lindsey Howald Patton]
I moved to the Lincoln Square area two years ago and slid straight into an Opart Thai House food rut where I feasted on one dish that refused to get old: the heavenly coconut milk-and-green-curry dish called gaeng keow waan.
But with summer finally upon us, I am seizing the warming moment to pry my own fingers from that ultra-rich, steaming-hot dish. If a time of year to subsist on cool, refreshing salads exists, we're heading into it right now. I wanted to see what this busy Thai BYOB had to offer.
I tried four of Opart Thai's ten salad offerings, hitting a range of sauces and proteins and experimenting with spiciness levels.

Of them all, the most satisfyingly summery was the chicken naem sod ($7.59). You had crunchy slivers of fresh, spicy ginger; steamed ground chicken of good quality; fragrant cilantro; thinly-sliced chili; and a few toasted peanuts for crunch. It was all dressed with plenty of fish sauce and lime juice. That, plus the ginger, herbs and a nice spicy kick at the end (if you ask for medium spiciness or above), makes it my new choice for lakefront picnic takeout.

The neau num tok ($7.99) was equally delicious, although admittedly the least salad-like of them all. It's essentially a small pile of beef, dotted with scallion bits and slices of red onion, with a rather artistic wedge of iceberg lettuce nestled alongside. No one minded—this was the first dish at the table to disappear. The beef is thinly sliced, wonderfully tender, and dusted with toasted rice powder. Uninterrupted by spice in this case at the mild level, the beef was super flavorful, holding its own alongside the salty fish sauce and lime dressing.

The pla koong ($8.99) was similarly protein-focused. Juicy charbroiled tail-on shrimp were served atop a large piece of leaf lettuce, which I used to shamelessly sop up all of the shrimpy dressing at the end. I tend to avoid that red, sticky sauce we call sweet and sour, so was a little suspicious of what Opart's menu called "Thai hot and sour." But this was fine homemade stuff, with a savory umami depth. I would definitely order this again.

The som tum ($7.59) is one of two vegetarian options on the salad menu. Consisting of julienned green papaya and a couple of tomato wedges sprinkled with tiny dried shrimp and fried peanuts, this salad had the least drama. The papaya was a bit tough and lacking in flavor, while the dressing was quite sweet. While that was somewhat tempered by spice, the salad could have used a salty-tart component to balance it all out.
4658 North Western Avenue (map) 773-989-8517 opartthai.com

[Photographs: Erin Jackson]
If you've strolled by a Ghirardelli location recently, you may have noticed a few new items on the dessert menu. Unlike most of their signature items, these feature neither ice cream nor fudge sauce. To appeal to customers seeking a lighter option, the San Francisco-based chocolate shop rolled out the "Marina Collection", a trio of desserts that star lemon sorbet.
Two of the items are drinks. There's a lemon sorbet shake (sorbet blended with milk) and the Lemon Fizz (lemon sorbet, club soda, and strawberries), but the Lemon Sorbet Sundae ($8.95) looked the most enticing. It's made with two generous scoops of lemon sorbet and garnished with pineapple, diced pieces of crystallized ginger, and almonds.

The sundae (if it's even fair to deem it as such—Merriam-Webster would disagree) starts out strong. Those toasty bits of almond are good and crunchy, and the combination of lemon, ginger, and pineapple is a success. The issue is stretching out the toppings over more than a few bites, because once they're gone, you've got a whole lot of sorbet to plow through before hitting the bottom layer of pineapple. The good news: the sorbet is super-smooth and quite tasty, though it registers as candy-sweet, not tangy.

In fact that's something you should know about the sundae before digging in: every element is too sweet. The menu lists the pineapple element as simply "pineapple" but it would be more accurate to say "pineapple topping". There were no chunks of pineapple, and the jelly-like sauce was missing any acidity.
Combined with the ginger candy (which was crusted with sugar crystals, and not at all spicy) and the too-sweet sorbet, the end result is a dessert that's one-note and less refreshing than it ideally should be. My taste buds were so burnt out on sugar that I couldn't even get through the first scoop. Had it delivered the flavors I was hoping for (tangy lemon, acidic pineapple, and sweet/spicy ginger), it would have been a real knock-out.
Maybe Max Falkowitz wants to take a crack at a sorbet like that? I live in hope.
About the author: Erin Jackson is a food writer and photographer who is obsessed with discovering the best eats in San Diego. You can find all of her discoveries on her San Diego food blog EJeats.com. On Twitter, she's @ErinJax

[Photographs: Yasmin Fahr]
I tend to get made fun of quite a bit for my love of feta and tomatoes and my attempts to incorporate one or both into anything I can, whenever possible. It's definitely deserved—I always have a tub of Bulgarian feta in my fridge and tend to a go a little crazy in August and September when tomato season is in full effect. This recipe is no exception, but I think it works fantastically. Without realizing, I ended up mixing the ingredients of a diner-style Greek omelet with couscous; luckily, it's a great combination.
The great thing about this recipe is that it's inexpensive and, if you're making it for just one or two people, the leftovers can be made into multiple meals with a just a few new additions. You can try adding roasted asparagus to the mix or even throwing it over a bed greens with a drizzle of olive oil and lemon juice. If you're in the mood for protein, quickly cook some chicken breasts, thighs, or legs and serve with couscous as a side dish. You could even season the chicken with lemon, garlic, and oregano to give it the full Greek treatment.
Skillet Pearled Couscous with Tomatoes, Feta, and Spinach »
About the Author: Yasmin Fahr is a food lover, writer, and cook. Follow her @yasminfahr for more updates on her eating adventures and discoveries, which will most likely include tomatoes. And probably feta. Happy eating!
Every recipe we publish is tested, tasted, and Serious Eats-approved by our staff. Never miss a recipe again by following @SeriousRecipes on Twitter!
Get the Recipe!VIEW SLIDESHOW: First Look: TanakaSan Tackles Contemporary American Asian Food in Seattle
[Photographs: Jay Friedman]
TanakaSan. The name pays tribute to owner Tom Douglas' faithful sidekick through innumerable restaurant openings and culinary projects: executive chef Eric Tanaka. The menu pays tribute to Tanaka's background as a Japanese-American who grew up in Los Angeles eating a diversity of food. Tanaka says that the food is contemporary American Asian, cutting across cuisines and pleasing personal cravings more than playing toward authenticity.
TanakaSan is part of Tom Douglas' vast new Assembly Hall complex, which at 10,000 square feet also includes Assembly Coffee and Juice bar, Home Remedy grab-and-go (deli, pizza, burritos, and more), flower shop, gift shop, and more. TanakaSan itself is big, with 60 seats outdoors (warmed by heat lamps) and 80 indoors (with potential for more)—including prized counter seating for those who want to watch the kitchen action.
Tentacles at TanakaSan.
The menu trends Japanese and Chinese, with offerings including okonomiyaki (a savory pancake) to two types of ramen, a Dungeness crab foo young, and two types of dumplings. There's also Tanaka Family Fried Rice, featuring smoked bacon, crispy shallot, and a fried egg, which really brings the cooking home for Tanaka and his dining guests. And if L.A. has Genghis Cohen restaurant, Seattle's gets Miso-Dashi with Matzo Balls. (Lunch and brunch feature dim sum-like small plates suitable for sharing.)Desserts include brown rice matcha macaroons, coconut-cinnamon shaved ice, and Vietnamese coffee-chocolate layer cake. And don't overlook the drink menu. There's a selection of local and Asian beer, shōchū (a Japanese distilled beverage), Asian-influenced cocktails, sake slushies, and more.
2121 6th Avenue, Seattle, WA 98121 (map) (206) 812-8412; tanakasanseattle.com
About the author: Jay Friedman is a Seattle-based freelance food writer who happens to travel extensively as a sex educator. An avid fan of noodles (some call him "The Mein Man"), he sees sensuality in all foods, and blogs about it at his Gastrolust website. You can follow him on Twitter @jayfriedman.

[Photographs: Nick Solares]
Sao Mai is my far and away my favorite Vietnamese restaurant within walking distance of my home, and it might be even be my favorite in Manhattan, period. Just like the best Vietnamese restaurants in Chinatown, Sao Mai has a no-frills, stripped-down dining room with brisk service that offers flavors that are bright and vibrant. With its arrival in the East Village, I have stopped heading down to Baxter Street to Nha Trang or New Pasteur (now Phó Pasteur) for my phó fix.

Goi cuon.
Goi Cuon ($5.50)—summer rolls— come stuffed with shrimp, pork, or tofu and a dense tangle of vermicelli in a translucent rice paper wrapper. They're delicately herbal and well-constructed.

Ga nuon banh hoi.
Or you can roll your own with the grilled lemongrass chicken (Ga Nuon Banh Hoi; $11.50), a platter of marinated chicken, vermicelli, lettuce, pickled carrots, and mint served along side a stack of dry rice paper pancakes and a pitcher of warm water. Soak the pancake for five to six seconds and wrap away.

Pho.
You can't go wrong with the Phó ($9) at Sao Mai. My favorite is the house special, which comes loaded with thick slices of fatty brisket, beef round, and some dense but spongy meatballs. Eat the latter quickly lest they become too rubbery. The broth is pleasingly earthy, spiked with star anise, and suitably gelatin-rich. The garden of fresh herbs that accompany it—basil, cilantro, mint—brightens the soup, adding a vibrancy and freshness that make it desirable even in the summer heat.

Bun cha gio.
The Bún—rice noodle bowl—section offers a slew of topping options: beef, shrimp, pork, chicken, or vegetables, all for $7.50. Or you can splurge for the special with shrimp, pork, beef, and fried spring rolls for an extra $1.50.

Com suzon nuong.
Sao Mai treats its meats well, such as the Com Suzon Nuong ($7.50), a grilled pork chop over rice. The thin slivers of marinated pork are marinated with lemongrass, fish sauce, and sugar, and while the pork is hardly prime real estate, its treatment makes it a tender a product and tremendous value.

Tom ram muoi.
But there's one disappointment to watch out for: Tom Ram Muoi ($16), fried shrimp with iceberg lettuce and avocado dipping sauce. There's nothing remarkable about the shrimp or its wilted lettuce, though the avocado does well to add its own creamy richness.

Because so many of the dishes at Sao Mai share the same spices, herbs and flavor profiles (not to mention garnishes!), choosing more economical ingredients—pork and beef rather than seafood for example—is a smart way to go. In fact, I find the cheaper dishes, those under $10 like the Bún and the Phó, to be my favorites.
I can also vouch for Sao Mai's ability to deliver food to your home should you live within their delivery range. On numerous occasions it's arrived fresh and warm.
East Village: you have your Vietnamese restaurant.
[Photograph: @sstiavetti]
Unless you're living under a rock where no cheese exists, you're probably aware that the West Coast is home to many of the artisan cheese world's most inspired varieties of fermented dairy. But of all the small-time cheese producers churning out new kinds of cheese, which are the the most reliable favorites?
Here are five West Coast cheeses you simply MUST try. I guarantee you won't be disappointed.
Point Reyes Toma
An award winner may times over, Toma is a cheese
that sits high on many cheese connoisseurs' top ten lists. Toma is
produced along the central California coast, by a small family
operation called The Point Reyes Farmstead Cheese Company. This
beauty of an Italian-style cow's milk cheese is semi-hard, with a
gorgeously creamy, buttery personality. Toma is a wonderful
addition to your cheese plate, but it's just as readily shredded
into a hot cheese casserole at home. (Gratin
dauphinois, anyone?)
Nicasio Valley Foggy Morning There are not many cheeses I can say that I'd love to fall asleep in a bed of, but Nicasio Valley Cheese Company's Foggy Morning is such a soft, delicate, young cheese that you might have a hard time not dreaming of a nap in this fresh little pillow yourself. In its tart fluff you'll taste layers of grass and wildflowers, maybe a little créme frâiche (of which there is none added, by the way). Foggy Morning is life altering on its own, though I also recommend crumbling it into a fresh green salad with a little sweet vinaigrette.
Rogue River Blue
Rogue River Blue is hands down one of my favorite blue cheeses.
Produced in central Oregon by Rogue Creamery, you'll find an
assertive cow's milk personality here, in addition to its unique
pear brandy-soaked grape leaf exterior. Its contrasting textures of
creamy and crunchy play across your tongue, releasing the most
incredible series of flavors I've experienced in a blue cheese:
spicy, vegetal, nutty, and, well...wild. If you're a fan of the
blue and want to up the ante, I highly recommend Rogue River
Blue.
Mt. Townsend Cirrus A soft cow's milk cheese from Mount Townsend Creamery in Washington State, Cirrus is a stellar West Coast version of French Camembert. While this buttery cheese is just begging to be baked and paired with dried fruit, it's not your mom's old-fashioned dipping cheese. You'll find this variety creamier than the French version, with a few licks of Pacific-Northwest sea breeze as an added bonus.
Tumalo Farms Classico
Tumalo
Farms' Classico is a semi-hard goat's milk cheese that pulled a
3rd-place prize in the prestigious U.S Cheese Championship Contest
in 2009, despite the fact that the cheesemaker was a relative
newcomer to the cheese world. This central Oregon beauty is goaty
without being overly so, with a lingering sweetness that leaves
your palate begging for another bite. Perfect on a cheese plate, or
in Tumalo Farms' recipe for
roasted chicken penne with arugula pesto.
About the author: Stephanie Stiavetti is a writer and cookbook author in San Francisco. Her food blog, The Culinary Life, is a repository for all things comfort food related, from savory dinners to transcendental desserts. She also publishes a monthly culinary newsletter full of stories, review, and helpful tips. Stephanie's cookbook, Melt: the Art of Macaroni and Cheese, celebrates America's favorite dish by recreating it with specialty cheeses. Available for preorder now.

Until last week, you could get the T-Rex Burger—a cheeseburger featuring nine quarter-pound patties and nine slices of cheese—at just one Wendy's location in Manitoba, Canada. Not wanting to look like they condoned the 3,000 calorie meat tower, Wendy's took the semi-secret item off the menu after someone posted about the burger on Reddit.
But nothing (aside from common sense) is stopping you from combining three triple cheeseburgers. And thus the staff of NPR's Wait Wait...Don't Tell Me! did just that in their latest Sandwich Monday post, in honor of the fallen T-Rex. Read their commentary and you might want to try the burger, too—they call it "inexplicably delicious."
[Photograph: Amber Gibson]
Little Market Brasserie's menu has a couple touches of Chef Ryan Poli's love of Spain—namely the summer sangrias and ceviche—but the vast majority of the menu is in the style of an "American brasserie." Think grilled cheese, iceberg wedge salads, and lobster rolls—but all for sharing.
There are also plenty of vegetarian options on the menu, but my favorite was the grilled asparagus dish with red quinoa, almonds, crispy kale chips and cherries. Considering the time of year, I'm not surprised at how thick, crunchy, and sweet the asparagus was. However, I'm impressed by how well the red quinoa accompaniment, along with fried kale chips, sliced almonds and pickled dried Michigan cherries complement the spears. It was my favorite dish of the night and probably the healthiest thing we ordered, but I didn't for one minute feel like I was eating a "health food," as I looked to my companions for permission to scarf down the last spear.
The deviled eggs ($5.50) have a whipped filling, including a punch of cremini duxelle inside, that's not too heavy. They're topped with parmesan tuiles, making for a fun first bite for dinner.
The thin slices of sunchoke and Asian pear on the sunchoke salad ($11.50) are hard to visually distinguish, but offer a playful contrast in flavor atop arugula and cheddar. A simple red wine vinaigrette tops this dish off.
Mushrooms on toast ($11.50) sounds bland, but that's not the case with this creamy and garlicky warm stew of beech, cremini, and portobello mushrooms, which soaks right into the crunchy crostini. A little bit of shallot marmalade on top cuts through the richness.
This risotto ($14.50) has a nice balance of savory and sweet, with truffle oil and sweet corn kernels throughout, along with a sprinkling of herbs. It may not look too intriguing (risotto rarely does) but is more flavorful than you might expect.
10 East Delaware Street, Chicago 60611(map) 312-640-8141 littlemarketbrasserie.com

[Photographs: Brian Oh]
Since the beginning of May, chef Carlos Delgado and CreamCycle have been peddling (and pedaling) ice cream sandwiches all over DC. The current executive chef of Boveda and his partners have crafted five custom, freezer equipped tricycles (as well as a number of static kiosks in shops like Smucker Farms) to patrol the District with Delgado's particular brand of locally sourced, gourmet ice cream sandwiches.
A sendup to Delgado's home country of Peru, where it is not uncommon to see ice cream laden bicycles, the roughly 20 available flavors draw not only from Delgado's heritage, but also from the inventive approaches to classic flavors that he uses at Boveda. Delgado has plans to introduce classic Peruvian flavors like lúcuma, which is a subtropical fruit native to Peru that Delgado says "looks like an avocado and tastes like vanilla," and other passion fruits. For now, the menu is replete with unexpected combinations of flavors. Take the Corn Maple (corn flavored ice cream with a maple cornbread cookie) or the Bacon & Olive (olive oil ice cream and bacon bits with a bacon cookie). They're simple flavors, but combined in imaginative ways to keep it interesting. Other notable flavors include the Cereal Milk ice cream sandwich (cereal milk infused ice cream with a granola cookie). Remember when you used to slurp up the thick, sugary residue left in your bowl after your morning cereal? That's basically what that is, but in ice cream sandwich form.

The Mexican Jalapeño Chocolate and the Coconut Squared. The Coconut Squared layers light coconut ice cream and chocolate for a refreshing chill. A stark contrast to the dense, heavy, spiciness of the former.
The Mexican Jalapeño Chocolate is Delgado's signature flavor. Jalapeño ice cream that lays down a lingering heat long after the chill is gone (but not as spicy as the habanero in the Banana Java Habanero) and a dark spiced chocolate cookie that's basically the classic chocolate-vanilla ice cream sandwich but with the characteristic twist that's prevalent in all of Delgado's menu.
Each ice cream sandwich is $5 and each bike will carry about 100 at a time. Routes will vary day to day and bikes will be resupplied as needed via Delgado's Honda Ruckus. They'll even be running late night hours. Imagine hitting the bars on U St. late on a Saturday and then seeing one of the CreamCycle bikes as you stumble out of a bar at 2 a.m. That can happen now, but you'll have to keep an eye on CreamCycle's Twitter feed to pinpoint where each bike will be.
VIEW SLIDESHOW: The Best Beers and Pairings We Tried at Savor 2013
[Photographs: Christopher Lehault]
Along with the Great American Beer Festival, Extreme Beer Fest, and Belgium Comes to Cooperstown, Savor is heralded as one of America's premier beer events and one that draws both brewers and patrons from coast to coast. This year, Savor made its way north from Washington, D.C. to New York City. But geography wasn't the only change at this year's festival.
Most notable at this year's Savor was the number of wild and sour ales being offered. While there were only a handful of these hot-topic beers a few years back, it seemed that every other brewer in attendance in New York offered up some brew spiked with brettanomyces, lactobacillus, or a dizzying array of wild micro-organisms. Savor has embraced the funk and the patrons followed suit.
For those overwhelmed by this year's funk-factor, we also noted plenty of flavorful session ales paired up with food at this year's event. We're happy to see these lower-alcohol brews adding to the ever-expanding landscape of American craft beer.
We sipped and sampled our way through this year's Savor, searching for brews that stood out as some of the best beers on the American landscape today. Check out the highlights in the slideshow »
Did you attend Savor? Which beers and pairings did you love?
About the author: Christopher Lehault is a New Jersey based homebrewer, cider evangelist and craft beer documentarian. Follow him on twitter at @idrunkthat.
In this great city of ours, one could eat a different sandwich every day of the year—so that's what we'll do. Here's A Sandwich a Day, our daily look at sandwiches around New York. Got a sandwich we should check out? Let us know. —The Mgmt.

[Photograph: Max Falkowitz]
I can count on one hand—if that—the number of times I've had a still-crisp eggplant parm on a hero. But that's fine by me so long as we adjust our expectations for a successful sandwich. If you like the idea of breaded eggplant spread with sweet tomato and milky mozzarella, the version at Rosario's deli in Astoria ($6.50 on a hero, $5.50 on a roll) is probably up your alley.
It's subtly seasoned, but I wouldn't call it bland. The eggplant's cooked to baba ganoush-like softness, and it's further moistened by Rosario's sweet tomato sauce. That sauce is similar to what goes on their pizza, more sweet (but not sugary) than savory, clean without dried herb distractions. Rosario's fresh mozzarella isn't my favorite for eating out of hand—it's salty and superbly milky, but a bit tough—though it melts well on the hero, concentrating its sweetness without weeping out onto the eggplant. Consider asking the friendly sandwich folks for an extra helping.
There are many Italian bakeries in Astoria, but Astoria Bakery may make my favorite hero bread in the 'hood. It's light and airy, aromatic with sesame seeds, and it comes to nubby points at the ends that tastes like the best toasted croutons. It's the perfect cradle for Rosario's well-constructed deli sandwiches.
About the author: Max Falkowitz is the editor of Serious Eats: New York. You can follow him on Twitter at @maxfalkowitz.
VIEW SLIDESHOW: Our 6 Best Bites From Huichica Music Festival in Sonoma, CA
[Photographs: Lauren Sloss]
There's a pocket-sized music festival hiding out in Sonoma. With small crowds, big smiles, and a killer musical lineup tucked amongst the vineyards, the Huichica Music Festival may well be heaven. And while it's tempting to keep this one under wraps, the good tunes and good vibes I found this past weekend inspire me to spread the good word.
Huichica is in its fourth year at the Gundlach Bundschu Winery (that's gun-lock bun-shoe). 2013 was twice as big as 2012, and if the quality of the food and music lineups are any indicator, the festival is on the brink of becoming a capital B big deal. What could make a vineyard-based music festival even better? A fantastic selection of good eats, of course.

Rancho Gordo tacos
Food offerings included indie San Francisco favorites Salumeria, Craftsman & Wolves, and Namu Gaji, Napa's Rancho Gordo, and Portland's Bunk Sandwiches. Music-wise, indie darlings Blitzen Trapper and the Fruit Bats closed out the day, following memorable performances from The Donkeys and Jonathan Wilson (with a guest jam appearance by Bob Weir!).
Of course, the wine and beer was flowing as festival attendees wandered between the two stages, stopping to check out the goods at a small farmers market, or watch the hula hoop lesson going on in the Kid Zone.

Salumeria's knackwurst and pretzel buns on the grill.
Serious food offerings are certainly becoming par for the course at music festivals, as we've seen at Outside Lands and, more recently, at Bottle Rock. But Huichica is a particular standout both because of its affordability ($40 for the day) and its well-curated food and music offerings. One of the kind people at the Salumeria stand put it best as we dressed our knackwurst with sauerkraut: "This is just the best festival. Everyone here is so... happy!"
What's your favorite small music festival? Let us know in the comments below! And check out Huichica's food offerings in the slideshow above.
About the author: Lauren Sloss is a bicoastal food-lover who is based in San Francisco. Some of her favorite things include The Black Keys, goat gouda, and guacamole. You can follow her on Twitter @laurensloss.

We're big fans of Pop Chart Labs, the Brooklyn-based company that charts out everything from the constitutions of classic cocktails to pie charts of pie. Now the data-loving group has turned its attention to the glorious world of cheese, creating a wheel of 66 cheeses from around the world.
The cheeses are organized by type and texture, and the wheel covers everything from all-time faves like cheddar, Brie, and mozzarella, plus more advanced offerings like Stinking Bishop and Humboldt Fog. (Not familiar? Brush up on our Serious Cheese archives to get the curd nerd lingo down.)
New Yorkers will be pleased to know that Pop Chart has partnered with Murray's Cheese shop through July 6th to give away five $100 gift certificates. But if you're not in New York, you're still in luck: we're giving away three copies of this awesome poster to have for all of your future cheese-procuring needs. To win, tell us in the comments below: if you were a cheese, what kind of cheese would you be and why?
Contest will end and comments will close at 10 a.m. on Friday, June 21. One entry per community member. Winners must provide US mailing address, sorry, posters cannot be shipped abroad. Standard Serious Eats contest rules apply.

Sue Torres has held Suenos at a level of success for ten years, and she hasn't opened a second restaurant anywhere else at any time. Instead, she has the kind of faith in her staff that only comes with a long restaurant run, so that she can sometimes leave the kitchen to take an unrelated cooking class or go on a hike, where she says much of her creativity stems. She also found her training in Mexican cuisine from a unique and humble source, and continues to build her menus from trusting the skills and opinions of the cooks in her kitchen.
And while clocking in at the restaurant at 7 a.m. for their new brunch menu doesn't exactly make her exhausted body jump for joy, she still finds sharing her kitchen and continuing to learn alongside her staff energizing; "Making staff meal for everyone on Saturdays and Sundays is fun, us just eating the foods I enjoy. Simple pleasures. It makes it all worth it at the end of the day."

There's often a debate about what "authentic" Mexican food is, and if we should aspire to it. Where is the root of your style of Mexican cooking? For me Mexican cuisine starts in the homes of my cooks mothers and grandmothers, so they're the foundation, the base, that I have learned from. It's in the technique and the equipment.
I don't know many chefs who would put their ego aside to admit that they learned from the relatives of their own cooks. What's fantastic is I didn't know much about Mexican food when I started cooking it; my background was Southwest, Italian, French, Mediterranean. Here I was cooking to impress my cooks. I would give them a dish that I was thinking of for a special and be like, "Okay, what do you think of that?" I'd ask them what they'd put in a dish or what their favorite Sunday meal was. I was constantly involving and asking them. And after working with these cooks for over a year they were like, "You need to go see my mom. Go there and she's going to show you some things." And I was like, "All right, I'm in."

Lobster Sopes: coconut-habanero sauce, sliced avocado, cured red onions.
So you literally learned from them? I went to Mexico and just intruded on their families. And they were great! We'd either go to a farmers' market or go to cousins. My prep cook and one of my line cooks were from Morelos, and what I loved about their town was the incredible community that went into making one dish; "I'm going to my Tio's house to shake a tree and get the avocados that are ripe, and then I'm going to my primo's house to pick some tomatoes." There was just this circle of everybody sharing and everyone knew each other. So it was just incredible. And then always on the last day I would cook for them.
How was that received? They loved it! On one trip in Morelos my prep guy happened to be in Mexico when I was there visiting, and I'd forgotten something we had to get at the store. So I told his sister, "Hey, let me tell Roberto to keep an eye on my chicken in the oven." And she said, "Oh no, Roberto doesn't cook." And I was like, "Yes, he does, what do you think he does for me, he's my cook! He cooks!" Roberto's response was, "Oh noooooo, man! This is my home and you can't take my dignity away from me! I am a man, I cannot cook! If I cook then my mom and my sisters are going to expect me to cook!" It was really fun. It was a good time.

Chilaquiles: chips soaked in salsa verde, pico de gallo, queso fresco, Feather Ridge Farms eggs.
You've had Suenos for about ten years now and haven't opened a second restaurant, which is rather uncommon in today's culinary scene. What does that root do for you? Well, for me the main thing is happiness, and my happiness comes through food and cooking. My greatest joy comes from putting my hands into the food, whether it taking something from a delivery and being totally inspired, just thinking of all the different ways I'm going to cook. If I were to expand on the level of an empire I'd have less of a connection to the food; that falls into the hands of your sous chefs and your chef de cuisines. And there's nothing wrong with that, but I'm at my happiest when I'm creating and cooking.
And with one restaurant I can have a good quality of life where I'm not stuck to the stove. On a randomly beautiful day I can say, "You know what, I'm going to go on a hike today!" My cooks can handle it. And for me that's also being creative, because I'm most creative when I'm in an outdoor environment.
It takes a lot of self-awareness to choose that. Where did this connection with cooking start? I think it started basically at the dinner table—eating was sort of the start of it all. The gratification of Sunday meatballs. It was an appreciation of the food that was put in front of me, and the connection to food that my father and grandfather gave me. On my Italian side there was always a beautiful, abundant garden. We would go fish and crabbing a lot. And there's nothing better than going crabbing with grandpa and knowing that grandma has a pot of tomato sauce on the fire and the pot is ready for when we come back. It's the simple pleasures of food that I think started it all for me.
Did something from that time particularly stick with you that you might have not expected? There was a part that I didn't always enjoy—sourcing the best ingredients. My mother would take me to one butcher for our chopped meat and another for the sausage. And I'd be like, "Ma, we just came from the butcher, why couldn't we get the sausage there? Why did we just go twenty minutes here and then thirty minutes there?" She was like, "You don't understand. This butcher has the best sausage and that butcher has the best ground beef. He'll grind it in front of me, he'll use the fat count that I want.... And, besides, you never complain when you're eating." And I was like, okay, point taken.
Do you now retain that respect? Absolutely. Every step that food takes to when it's cooked and plated is with joy, with love. If it's not I think people can actually taste the difference.

Fish Taco: avocado leaf-crusted tuna, cilantro pesto, fruit salsa with organic greens.
What's the balance in your kitchen now? Since you've had just the one restaurant, have you had cooks here since the beginning? I have one cook who's been here since we opened—he remembers recipes that I've forgotten ten years ago—and we have a very good relationship and open dialogue. And then my other cook has been here eight and a half years. So that core foundation gives me a sense of security in that they know exactly how I want things. If I give them the ingredients in a dish I'm confident they know my palate and will make it pretty much exactly how I want it. So that is a very good thing for me.
What about culinary kids coming through? Do you find less students take Mexican cooking as seriously as they would French or Italian? I think in some levels that's an individual thing. But I will say that Mexican cuisine is one of the hardest cuisines to cook, and it's not getting credit for what it is. Mario Batali is a great chef because he taught Americans in New York that Italian food is not just red sauce and pasta. "Let me show you all the regions of Italy and let me show you how diverse each is from one town to the next." The same is true with Mexico.
Do you feel like we're at least on the rise in understanding? Yes. And I think it has to start with the writers who are writing about Mexican restaurants to explore Mexico more. Not to explore the touristy parts, but to get deep into the heart of the country by branching off. And having experiences and understanding what Mexican food is. Because that's a big part of it—having something to relate to not just from the Mexican restaurants in New York or around the U.S. but in Mexico. I love when people come in here and go, "This is really good Mexican food. And I would know, because I'm from California!" It's one of the biggest backhanded compliments I get.
About the author: Jacqueline Raposo writes about people who make food and cooks things now and then for her bread and butter. Read more at www.WordsFoodArt.com or tweet excessively with her at @WordsFoodArt.

Name: Meena Lee Location: Manhattan Occupation: Student at Columbia
Guilty pleasures? I'm a huge fan of granola bars. Which I know doesn't really sound like a guilty pleasure (until your friends tell you that they're basically glorified candy bars), but when you're chomping down a whole box of them at 2 in the morning within a span of 20 minutes, yeah, I feel a bit guilty afterwards. Also, ice cream.
Describe your perfect meal. I'm obsessed with kimchi...even for a Korean. My perfect meal would thus consist of rice with stir-fried kimchi and tofu, kimchi pajeon (kimchi pancakes), and kimchi soup. I would finish with some Korean rice cakes.
What food won't you eat? I get kind of squeamish when it comes to eating different meats and weird meat parts, but if offered some, I might actually try a little. I used to be a lot more picky, but after going to college, somehow I kind of like everything now.
Favorite food person? I'd probably have to go with Lidia Bastianich. She was the first food person I watched on TV, and all of her food looks amazing. When I went to Italy a couple of years ago, one of the only phrases I knew going in was "tutti a tavola a mangiare," from her show. I kept on waiting for an opportunity to say it, but alas, it never came.
When did you first realize you were a serious eater? When I was little I actually used to HATE eating. I still remember that day at my grandma's house when I finally realized that food tasted good. I was in the first grade. When I finished my dinner only an hour after everyone else finished, I remember all my relatives were amazed.
What do your family and friends think of your food obsessions? I'm the serious eater I am today because I come from a family of great cooks and eaters.A lot of my friends are either into food too, or at least put up with my obsessions.
Favorite food sites or blogs? Mostly just Serious Eats, but I also sometimes read Bon Appetit, Food and Wine, and Food52.
Everyone has a go-to person they call for restaurant recommendations. Who's yours? I usually just look on Serious Eats or Yelp, but my sister and aunt, who both live in the city and love food blogs, usually give me some pretty good recommendations as well.
What is your favorite meal of the day and where do you get it? Definitely dinner, though breakfast has actually started to grow on me. I like to eat dinner at home, since my parents are excellent cooks.
Do you ever cook? What's the best dish you make? My parents tease me about how many cooking shows I watch but how little I actually cook. I recently though discovered a great recipe for granola bars.

A super light version of a pound cake [Photograph: Yvonne Ruperti]
I love chiffon cakes because they're light, fluffy, and super moist. Chiffon cakes use both whipped whites and a leavener to create the airy texture, and use oil as the fat, which makes for a really moist crumb. Chiffon cakes are similar to an angel food cake, but less sugary and so much richer. Most importantly however, is that they're really easy to mix up. Most of the ingredients for the batter are briefly combined in the mixer (you can even hand whisk it), then whipped egg whites are folded in. That's it.
While there are many variations on a chiffon cake, lemon is among my favorites. Lemon matches perfectly with the light, spongey texture. The effect is a light-as-air lemon pound cake. How can you go wrong with that?
I made sure this version was quite zingy by adding a good amount of lemon juice and zest to the batter. It's important to be gentle when folding the meringue into the batter so as to not deflate the whites.
Unlike an angel food cake, which gets turned over to let the cake cool (so that it doesn't shrink), I never turn my chiffon cakes over. I've tried, and it flops out every time (must be the weight or the oil in the cake). Regardless, even though it shrinks slightly upon cooling, the texture is as light as ever. Serve it with a dollop of whipped cream, a dusting of sugar, or a smear of blueberry preserves.
About the Author: Yvonne Ruperti is a food writer, recipe developer, former bakery owner, and author of The Complete Idiot's Guide To Easy Artisan Bread. You can also watch her culinary stylings on the America's Test Kitchen television show. She presently lives in Singapore working on her new baking cookbook, and as a recipe developer for HungryGoWhere Singapore. Check out her blog: shophousecook.com . Follow Yvonne on Twitter.
Get the Recipe!
[Photographs: Erin Jackson and Adam Lindsley]
620 SW 9th Ave, Portland OR (map); 503-287-4377; brunchboxpdx.com Cooking method: Griddled Short Order: Big, crazy burgers that are more about entertainment value than being perfect specimens Want Fries With That? Meh, I'd skip them. The fries were on the dry and cardboardy side Price: YouCanHasCheeseburger, $7; Burgermeister, $9; fries, $1.50/$4
With the opening of their brick and mortar store on 4/20, Brunch Box expanded out of Food Cart Alley on the corner of SW 5th and Stark, offering Portlanders another place to get their mitts on budget-friendly and hunger satiating grub, including breakfast sandwiches, hot dogs, and burgers. At both locations, burgers go from over-the-top to Redonkdonk (an actual burger from the Brunch Box menu, topped with egg, bacon, cheese, spam, and ham with grilled cheese sandwiches for buns).
Even with my hotel within easy stumbling distance, I knew I'd need some reinforcements, so brought along my defacto +1 (husband), and met up with Portland AHT contributor Adam Lindsley, thinking two burgers and an order of fries could be culled between the three of us.

Both Adam and I went for fairly understated options: a YouCanHasCheeseburger for me, and a Burgermeister (aka: Big Mac clone) for the gentleman.
The YouCanHasCheeseburger ($7), a take on the
fatty melt, features a 1/4 pound of griddled Black Angus beef
topped with the typical fixings and condiments, snuggled between
two toasty grilled cheese sandwiches. Nailing this burger variant
is all about proportion. There's the all-important bread-to-meat
ratio, but when you're introducing that much cheese, you've also
got to think about dairy-to-everything-else.

Looking at the top photo, you've surely diagnosed yourself that the YouCanHasCheeseburger is a little heavy on the bread. Two slices of Texas toast would probably skew the burger's bread margin, let alone four slices. So yes, I'll confirm it: there is too much bread. But there is also too much cheese. The patty gets a slice, and each slice of bread does too, bringing the total to six slices of cheese. That's way too much for the beef to stand up and be noticed, but let me tell you something: with the mayo, tomato, spreads (ketchup and mustard, if you swing that way), and burger patty thrown in, this is one hell of a grilled cheese sandwich, and that's how you need to think of it.
I'll pass the (greasy) burger baton to Adam and let him weigh in on his selection, the Burgermeister ($9):

With twice the beef of Erin's You Can Has Cheeseburger, the Burgermeister should have packed a meaty wallop, despite the presence of a third bun in the center. No such luck. The overcooked, underseasoned patties barely tasted like anything even when I tore off a hunk and sampled the beef on its own. Compressed to an almost sausage-like consistency, the two slabs of desiccated cow provided textural resistance in each bite and little else. Too bad.

Like the Big Mac it's mimicking, the Burgermeister keeps it simple on the toppings: American cheese, lettuce, grilled onions, pickles, and Thousand Island dressing. The salty cheese came through strongest, followed by the toasted bun, meaning this tasted like a grilled cheese sandwich more than anything. A grilled cheese sandwich with pickles and something vaguely beefy about it that you can't quite grasp however much you'd like to. In other words, it was totally fine example of an admittedly fatter-than-usual cheese sandwich, but a boring example of a double cheeseburger.

Big burgers like you'll find at Brunch Box don't really require a side, but if a burger without fries leaves you with a gaping hole in your soul, these spuds ($1.50/$4) will fill it. I found them to be on the dry side, but Adam liked them, so go figure. If you want fries that are equally as festive as Brunch Box's burger, there are always the "loaded" options ($6-$6.50), like the Black and Blue fries, with Cajun spices and blue cheese, but tread carefully. I found it difficult to remain upright and not groaning after eating only half of the YouCanHasCheeseburger.
About the author: Erin Jackson is a food writer and photographer who is obsessed with discovering the best eats in San Diego. You can find all of her discoveries on her food blog EJeats.com. On Twitter, she's @ErinJax
Love hamburgers? Then you'll Like AHT on Facebook! And go follow us on Twitter and Pinterest while you're at it!

[Photographs: Max Falkowitz]
It was only two years ago that Nafi's Condiments and Sauces—a line of habanero-based pepper sauces and pastes—was launched in New York City, but the journey that led to Nafissatou Camara's jumpstarting her business began many years before.
In the 1950's, Nafissatou (nicknamed Nafi) moved from France to Senegal to find her father, and she immediately became enamored by the culture she discovered there. Her main influence was her grandmother, also named Nafissatou. "She became my best friend, and even before I could understand the language she spoke, she shared with me her love of cooking, the wonderful recipes that she loved to prepare for the family I was just reunited with." Nafi's Condiments and Sauces is a tribute to her.
Camara makes seven products, including five "hot pepper condiments" and two "original sauces." The flavors range from cumin to coconut curry-yam to mango-tamarind, though they're all based on fiery-but-fruity habanero chilies. The sauces are made at La Marqueta in Harlem; Nafi's sauces is an incubate business in the Hot Bread Kitchen Incubates program.

Nafi's condiments distinguish themselves from other pepper sauces by being made with habaneros and scotch bonnet peppers, the same ingredients that are used in her region of Senegal. "They are unique not just for their level of heat but for their intense and bold taste." Nafi recommends the condiments be used for quick meat and vegetable marinades to hummus stir-ins and easy add-ons for grain dishes. Her personal favorite sauce is the cumin: "It is amazing to cook, grill, or simply put on toasted bread and enjoy with goat cheese and figs."
As her business grows, Nafi hopes to pay homage to the people of Senegal; she aspires to soon be able to purchase peanut butter from a Senegalese source. "Several women groups in rural areas there formed cooperatives that aim to improve the lives of women through the culture of peanuts. One of my goals is to be able to make an impact on women's lives in developing countries."
At this point, Nafi almost single-handedly runs her company, except for the help of her daughters and a part-time social media person. That being said, she is looking to hire more people, expand distribution, and maybe even open her own restaurant one day.
In the meantime, her company is growing every day. Her products can be found at Greene Grape Provisions in Brooklyn and Gracefully on the Lower East Side, as well as at the Green Flea Market on the Upper West Side, and pretty soon at the Whole Foods on 97th and Columbus. In addition, you can purchase the condiments on her website.
About the author: Ari Rudess is a Serious Eats intern and student at Wesleyan University. You can check out her Wesleyan food blog at www.wesstuffed.com
Editor's Note: Please welcome Kevin Liu of Science Fare to SE: Drinks. We're pumped to have him here to share a bit of cocktail science.

[Photographs: Kevin Liu]
The difference between a perfectly balanced cocktail and a so-so one often comes down to ice. How does ice affect temperature? Dilution? Since as much as half the volume of a cocktail can be melted ice, why not pay a little more attention to what you put in your glass?
If you spend time at fancy cocktail bars, it's quite possible that you've heard a few things about ice that that aren't quite true when you put them to the scientific test. Today, we're debunking those myths and clearing up a little of the science behind the chilly stuff.
False. Impurities in water, such as dissolved minerals or gases, are part of the what makes ice cloudy, but there are ways to freeze perfectly clear ice without using boiled or distilled water.
4 factors can make ice cloudy and any technique for making clear ice has to control for each of them. Here are the culprits, in order of importance.
If distilled water doesn't work, what does? For all the reasons listed above, the clearest ice is ice that freezes slowly and without supercooling—that is, ice that forms right at 0°C. So how do you do that?
Method 1: Use a cooler. The best known method is Camper English's directional freezing method. Camper freezes ice in an open igloo cooler in his freezer so that the ice freezes from top down, layer by layer. The top of the ice stays clear while only a bit at the bottom ends up cloudy.
Method 2: Use a temperature controller. I've written about my personal favorite method. I hook up a sous-vide temperature controller to a mini fridge so I can guarantee my ice freezes at just below 0°C. The temperature controller turns the fridge on and off based on an algorithm that takes into account factors like insulation and air flow to maintain a more constant temperature than the fridge would be able to maintain on its own. I've found that by tweaking the right parameters, I can keep the temperature within a + or - 1°C window. This technique works best if you don't have to open the door to the fridge much throughout the day.
Method 3: Start with hot water. While I was working on my cocktail science book, I spoke with former NASA cryogenic engineer Doug Shuntich, who pointed out that depending on your freezer conditions, simply starting with hot water can help. When hot water freezes, it moves around more due to convection, which can actually help to prevent supercooling and "encourage" the water to freeze closer to 0°C.
Any technique you can use to get your ice to freeze at 0°C should work. For example, since impurities in ice actually help prevent supercooling through a process called nucleation, it's possible that an intentional impurity, like a mint leaf, could actually make your ice more clear by forcing it to start forming crystals in a localized spot; the area right around the leaf will be imperfect, but the rest of the cube should form more clearly.
*Watch this video to see ice grow after it's already frozen.
More false than I thought. The basic argument for not adding ice to Scotch is this: ice waters down the Scotch and chills it. When you chill Scotch, fewer aromatic compounds from the spirit get released into the air, which means you experience much less of the Scotch's potential. All of this is true.
So why might adding ice to Scotch be ok?
First off, even the most prestigious Scotch makers acknowledge that some Scotches benefit from a little water. Water changes the solubility of some aromatic molecules, which means a few drops can help highlight particular flavors or mask others.
Scotch is pretty strong stuff (in the academic literature, Scotch has been used as a particularly intense spirit in alcohol taste tests.) Cooling down and diluting the Scotch reduces the burn that some people, especially supertasters, might experience. And that might make the Scotch more palatable for them. If anything, the popularity of whisky stones proves that there is a market for chilled Scotch.
What about all that lost aroma due to chilling?
The concerns over lost aroma deal primarily with orthonasal olfaction, or the sensations derived from aromatic compounds that enter the nose through the nostrils. But the tastes we derive from food (or Scotch) also depend on aromatic compounds that enter the nose through the back of the mouth. See pretty picture, below.

This image was first published in my book.
So the point I'm making is this: although chilled Scotch won't be shooting aromatic molecules all over the place while it's still in the glass, as soon as it gets warmed by body heat in the mouth, those molecules will become volatile and travel up the back of the mouth into the nose via retronasal olfaction.
Depends. You've probably heard that large blocks of ice are better for drinks because larger ice melts more slowly. The argument usually goes something like "more surface area = faster melting = more dilution." It turns out that surface area does matter, but perhaps not the way you think it would. But, let me come back to that in moment.
First things first.
Whenever we talk about ice and chilling, it's important to remember that there is no chilling without dilution. The vast majority of the chilling power of ice comes from the heat of fusion—that is, the heat ice sucks up from its surroundings when it turns into water. And since it takes 80 times as much energy to melt a gram of ice as it does to raise a gram of solid ice one degree in temperature, any significant change in the temperature of a drink correlates directly with the amount of ice melted.
What happens when you add equal masses of small rectangular vs. big spherical ice to a room-temperature glass of Scotch?
In the glass with small ice, the extra surface area of the ice would lead to very fast chilling and dilution. The drink would quickly drop down to around 0°C or just below** and stay in that rough temperature range until you finished your drink.
In the glass with a big sphere of ice, chilling and dilution would occur more slowly because spheres have the smallest ratio of surface area to mass. The Scotch surrounding the sphere would eventually chill to 0°C, but the ice would also melt a bit and probably float, which means the bottom of the drink would probably be closer to 4°C* because water is densest at that temperature and the sphere would not be able to chill fast enough to generate the convection necessary to circulate the Scotch. Of course, simply stirring the drink a little would chill it more.
Now that we know the conditions under which big ice does melt more slowly, let's look at a situation where the opposite is true.
What happens when you add equal masses of small rectangular vs. big spherical ice to an Old-Fashioned that has been chilled down to 0°C?
In both cases, when you add the ice, the temperature gradient between ice and surrounding pre-chilled cocktail would essentially be zero, so relatively little initial melting would take place. As you drank the two cocktails, the ice in each would melt as heat would be lost to the surrounding environment. Whether or not the large ice melted more slowly would depend on insulation, air temperature, and volume of cocktail to ice, but in most situations, the sphere would likely be able to keep up with heat loss, so the two cocktails would chill and dilute at almost the same rate.
Why might smaller ice be preferable to large in some cases?
If, as you drink your cocktail, the large ice gets exposed to the air. Then what happens is that the big ice starts cooling the atmosphere instead of your drink and you get additional dilution with no added chilling. It can be easier for small ice to rearrange and stay submerged in a drink as you sip it. So in the case of a chilled Old-Fashioned, all that really matters is you use ice that stays submerged for as long as you intend to drink the cocktail.
Does that mean we should use crushed ice for every drink?
No—you also have to consider water that is on the surface of the ice before you add it to your drink. Small ice has tons of surface area. As a result, it accumulates surface water—liquid water that builds up on the outside of the ice through melting and through condensation. When you add small ice to a drink, that surface water immediately dilutes the drink without adding any chilling benefit.
Of course, this is really much more of an issue if you are in a bar situation where ice is stored at room temperature. If you use lots of small ice directly from the freezer, surface liquid should be insignificant.
So, what ice do I use? When I'm drinking cocktails home, I'm perfectly happy using lots of small cold ice cubes straight from the freezer. But that doesn't mean I don't like big cubes—they may not make a difference in chilling, but they're still pretty [ahem] cool.
*Although water is densest at 4°C, the temperature at which mixtures of alcohol and water will be densest will vary based on ABV. **A mixture of water and ethanol has a lower freezing point than water by itself, so the incredible cooling power of melting ice *can* take a drink below 0°C. But, in the case of a big ice ball and room-temperature Scotch, the effect probably won't be significant. See myth #5, below, for more.
False. It turns out that drinks that contain only egg whites do benefit from a dry shake (that is, shaking without ice), but drinks that contain whole eggs do not.
What does this "myth" have to do with ice? Dry shaking isn't so much about dry vs. wet as it is about temperature. As any baker knows, an egg white foams form much more easily at room temperature than when chilled, which is why a dry shake will create a foamier egg-white-based drink.
Whole-egg foams are different because they contain fat from the egg yolk and so are not as much affected by temperature.
But all that doesn't change the fact that two separate shaking processes is a huge pain in the butt for bartenders, so here are some tips for making great egg drinks without worrying about a dry shake.
For egg-white-only drinks
For whole-egg drinks
You can read more about using eggs in cocktails here and here.
TRUE! Well, sorta.
The fact of the matter is that a shaken drink rapidly reaches an equilibrium temperature well below the freezing point of water. For a stirred drink to reach the same temperature, a bartender would have to stir for nearly 2 minutes.
Because of physics and stuff, a colder drink translates into a more diluted drink, as ice does not chill unless it also melts. In a test done by Gizmodo, a shaken cocktail ended up at 48 proof while its stirred twin finished at a much higher 65 proof.
What if you stir long enough that you do manage to get a stirred drink as cold as a shaken one?
The two drinks would probably still taste different because the violent action of shaking a drink aerates it. Although the tiny bubbles that affect texture dissipate relatively quickly, at the molecular level atmospheric oxygen and carbon dioxide will stay dissolved. Whether this makes a noticeable effect on taste is questionable, but it's certainly possible.
These little tidbits about ice are really just the tip of the proverbial... well, you know. I think it's always worth knowing the science behind your drink; but, as with all science, you shouldn't just take my word for it. Keep in mind that real-world factors like glassware, room temperature, even humidity, will affect your results.
Have you played around with cocktail science at all? Any questions out there about ice in drinks? Feel free to share your experiences or tell me how totally wrong you think I am in the comments.
About the author: Kevin Liu likes to drink science and study cocktails. Wait, that's backward. Ask him geeky food and booze questions on twitter @kevinkliu. While you're at it, check out his book about cocktail science and his blog about food and science
Special thanks to Mike, Angus, Andrew, Doug, and Jimmy for helping with this article.
Editor's Note: Whether you're a tourist or an office worker in downtown Chicago, you can get sick of eating at chain restaurants all day. So we've started a series to get you the lowdown on where to find a great and affordable lunch.

[Photographs: Dennis Lee]
Having a lot of free time right now, wandering around the Loop for lunch is a pretty exciting adventure. Sometimes my lunch trips are meticulously planned, and sometimes they're totally improvised. I improvised my way to lunch on a sunny Friday, wandering around the Loop with my trusty DSLR.
When I'm out trolling for lunch downtown, I tend to look like a tourist with a serious case of being Asian. I peek around with genuine curiosity, marveling at skyscrapers, while taking pictures of most of the food that goes in my mouth. Speaking of being Asian, my dad used to go around telling people we were 7th generation Cherokee when I was growing up just to screw with them. So to celebrate my Cherokee heritage, I wandered into a Jewish sandwich shop and parked my badonkadonk at Eppy's Deli.

One of the coolest things at Eppy's Deli is that they base their soup prices off the temperature outside—no kidding. When I visited, it was 63 degrees, which translated to a $0.63 cup of soup!
No trip to a Jewish deli would be complete without a bowl of matzo ball soup, and Eppy's version comes with a single ball bathing in chicken soup. Unfortunately, the matzo ball is somehow a bit dry and grainy in the middle, which seems odd to me, considering the fact it spends its lifetime languoring in that poultry bath. The broth itself is strongly flavored with carrot and celery, which comes through more than the actual chicken flavor. There are multiple soups on the menu, so if you're low on pocket change, getting a few of these cups may genuinely be the cheapest lunch in the loop, even if it's 100 degrees outside.

We asked one of the nice employees what she recommended, and she emphatically replied, "Everyone loves the turkey pastrami!" My dining companion wanted a Rueben ($9.25), so we fudged the recipe a bit and replaced the traditional corned beef with the turkey pastrami (which is more like a Rachel rather than a Reuben).
To my surprise, the turkey pastrami is excellent. I always have my misgivings about replacing red meat with turkey, but in this case, it's a non-issue. It's tender, very flavorful, and moist, seasoned with classic peppery pastrami spices. The thousand island dressing bolsters the sandwich with creamy richness and a bit of sweet tanginess, and the sauerkraut adds a bright sour kick along with the lightly crunchy texture of the cabbage.

The turkey meatloaf sandwich ($8.25), unfortunately, proved my prior misgivings to turkey. The regular meatloaf wasn't ready by the time I'd ordered, so I took a leap of faith into meatloaf made from our favorite leaner gobble monster. The texture of the meatloaf is mushy, while the meatloaf itself is nearly flavorless. Stick to the turkey pastrami instead.

With each sandwich, you have a choice of either two cold sides, or one hot side. My dining companion picked the mashies and gravy (included in price of sandwich). Yes, the name is a bit on the silly-goose side, I know. The mashed spuds are garlicky, and the chicken gravy is lumpy and tastes a little bit like flour, but I appreciate the homey flavor to it.

The mac and cheese (included in price of sandwich) is disappointing. It's got the bright fakey orange color I'm fond of when it comes to this type of mac and cheese, but it's surprisingly flavorless and bland, even lacking on the salt.

Eppy's Deli is a charming place in and of itself (sort of like me, hardy har). It has cute little quirks, like paying for your lunch after you eat, something you see rarely nowadays. The turkey pastrami is delicious and filling, and there's always that wonderfully cheap soup. They even serve a bottled Brooklyn egg cream. There's a few landmines in the menu, but as long as you stick to the crowd favorites, you'll be just fine.
162 N Franklin St, Chicago, IL 60606(map) 312-345-7771 eppysdeli.com
About the author: After a failed attempt at starting a chain of theme restaurants called "Smellen Keller," Dennis Lee traveled the world to discover his true passion. Sadly, midwifery didn't pan out. Now he works in a cubicle, and screws around as much as possible. Follow his shenanigans on Twitter.
Everyone has an opinion about foie gras. Whether you think it's animal cruelty or the most delicious ingredient on the planet, this film will challenge your perspective. Eduardo de Sousa's family has been raising geese for foie gras for over 200 years, and they do it without force feeding by following the bird's natural cycle. It's pretty incredible (and delicious). Watch our latest video from Spain to learn more.
VIEW SLIDESHOW: Steakcraft: BLT Steak's Strip and American Wagyu Top Cap
[Photographs: Nick Solares]
When I asked BLT Steak's chef de cusine Bradon Reardon to pick out his two favorite steaks, he chose the bone-in New York strip and the American Wagyu top cap. The strip is available on virtually every steakhouse menu, but BLT Steak serves a USDA Prime 28-day dry-aged Black Angus strip from Creekstone Farms in a 20 oz. portion for $57. Reardon likes the flavor of the cut, and he serves it bone-in, as he feels it picks up extra "funk" from the bone.
The American Wagyu "top cap" is a lot more rare; I don't know of another steakhouse in the city that has it as a permanent menu item. It comes from Snakeriver Farms and is served in a 10 oz. portion for $81.
It's worth mentioning that "American Wagyu" is somewhat of a controversial term, because the there is no standard for the breed. The cattle are not pure Wagyu, which would not do well in America's harsher climate; rather they're a cross between Wagyu and Angus or Longhorn cattle. The result is not the same as pure Japanese Wagyu beef (and one cannot discount the elaborate feeding process employed in Japan), but the beef is still delicious.
The top cap is technically called the spinalis dorsi, the muscle that "caps" the eye of the rib steak—it is my favorite thing to eat on a steer. The muscle is fibrous, tender and incredibly flavorful. While I would prefer the cut to be dry-aged, doing so would add to its expense considerably, and Snakeriver farms meat has a unique flavor all its own.
In both cases, the steaks are first seared on a grill to add hatch marks and smoky flavor. Then the meat is finished in a Southbend broiler. Take a look through the slideshow to see chef Reardon prepares them.
106 East 57th Street, New York, NY 10022 (map) 212-752-7470 e2hospitality.com/blt-steak-new-york

[Photograph: Michael Harlan Turkell]
I assume most of us are well versed in the powers of a good gazpacho recipe. Perfect for the hot summer months, this cold soup requires little more than a good blender and some patience during its chilling time. But it doesn't take many bowls of the tomato version to grow tired of slurping enriched vegetable juice.
Enter white gazpacho. The Spanish blend of almonds and green grapes is an enlivening break from tomato. This recipe, from Joanne Chang's new cookbook Flour, Too, is a prime example—the fruit and nuts combine with crisp English cucumbers, bright cilantro, and a one-two punch of lime juice and sherry vinegar. Good extra-virgin olive oil adds richness, body, and a shimmering garnish to the finished dish.
Why I picked this recipe: Gazpacho is great; an alternative to tomato is even better.
What worked: The combination of tangy green grapes, rich almonds, and pleasantly grassy cucumber made for a refreshing, lively soup.
What didn't: I had to puree the soup in four batches. My 7-cup food processor was no match for the bountiful produce.
Suggested tweaks: As written, this soup is boldly flavored and best served in smallish (appetizer-sized) quantities. If you want a subtler gazpacho, increase the proportion of cucumbers to the rest of the dish or back off a little on the vinegar.
As always with our Cook the Book feature, we have five (5) copies of Flour, Too to give away this week.
About the author: Kate Williams is a freelance writer and personal chef living in Berkeley, CA. She is a contributor to The Oxford American and Berkeleyside NOSH, and she blogs at cookingwolves.wordpress.com.
Get the Recipe!
[Photograph: Anna Markow]
In the past year of my career, I feel like I've grown a lot. While it was light on actual working pastry experience, I learned why it's not always a great idea to work yourself to death (besides the obvious.) I learned that a job that doesn't care if you have to postpone your own wedding so that they have enough desserts also won't think twice about firing you for being "difficult." I learned that making the jump from cook to chef very early in your career severely limits your potential employment, with many places considering you under-qualified for even a sous position and others deciding you're just too good to bake cupcakes all day. I learned that getting along with a chef-owner doesn't mean you'll get along with a chef de cuisine, and not all kitchens owned by the same person are alike.
I learned that even though many highly regarded restaurants might sneer at my anti-traditionalist, kitchen pirate self, some chefs from said restaurants, in a slightly different environment, are happy to have someone as enthusiastic and willing to learn as me around. I learned the basics of bartending, and that I don't want to go back to working with customers. I learned that part time is not enough time. I learned that elusive chefs are not a thing I'm into. And I learned that there are still people out there who actually want to hire me because I'm me.
I wasn't planning to job-skip my way through the last few months. But things happen.
I probably should be a little more cynical when it comes to starting jobs at this point, but everything actually feels right about the newest place. The chef and I chat often about the menu, often coming up with the same general ideas at the same time. The space is gorgeous. The menu sounds delicious. My suggestions are taken seriously.
Plus, I now have a use for a great idea I had recently.
I was thinking about cookies. Or cobblers. One of the two—I don't remember exactly how it started. Either way, I thought about putting a chocolate chip cookie on top of a cobbler instead of the traditional biscuit. While I couldn't really decide what kind of fruit would go best in a chocolate chip cookie cobbler (I'm leaning towards some kind of banana-nut compote), I realized that the concept was easily translatable into several seasonal varieties.
There are so many fruits that can go into a cobbler and so many different cookies. Apple cobbler with oatmeal raisin. Pear with gingerbread. Peach with snickerdoodle. Chef loved the idea, as it fits right in with the comfort/soul food style that helps influence the restaurant's cuisine. And it was incredibly easy to test at home.
Peaches—peeled, sliced and macerated in a mixture of dark brown sugar, ground ginger and bourbon—are crammed into ramekins and topped with golf ball-sized chunks of sugar-and-spice crusted snickerdoodle dough. The cobblers are baked until the cookies spread to the rim of each ramekin and the peaches bubble up around the edge. Once slightly cooled, the cookies' signature coating provides a slight crunch that gives way to a soft, peachy filling that is just sweet enough. And of course a little vanilla ice cream goes a long way.
About the Author: Anna Markow is a pastry chef obsessed with doing things that no one else does and giving unusual ingredients their time to shine. You can follow her sometimes-pastry-related thoughts on Twitter @VerySmallAnna.
Get the Recipe!
[Photo: Max Falkowitz]
Last spring I tried many, many flavors of Coffeemate for the sake of science. And I'll proudly admit it: I love the 'mate. Sure, this line of flavored nondairy creamers it has its hits and misses, but I'm always game to try a new flavor.
We really love Girl Scout Cookies here at Serious Eats. We've enjoyed them in many forms, including brownies, ice cream cakes and even boozy milkshakes. Surely combining Girl Scout cookies with coffee is the logical next step, right?
Well, almost.
The first interesting thing to note about this new Coffeemate flavor is that it smells exactly like the classic Girl Scout cookie. Not like mint, not like chocolate and mint, but exactly like Thin Mints. So, I was hopeful. But boy, was I wrong. All kinds of wrong. I think I can honestly say even if you do like coffee with a chocolate-mint flavor, you will not like this stuff. It tastes nothing like it smells. There's something oddly sour and pungent, and it left a strange cold feeling in the back of my throat. It's not even overly sweet, like the Peppermint Mocha flavor. It's just...off.
I adore Samoas. Caramel and coconut aren't even high on my list of favorite flavors in general, but this cookie has jumped to the top of my Girl Scout cookie preferences. After the Thin Mint flavored Coffeemate, I proceeded with extreme caution. The samoa version doesn't give off a strong scent, which I figured at that point was probably a good thing. I was very pleasantly surprised to find that this flavor does great in coffee. Don't expect anything subtle—it's super sweet and coconutty, but if you are looking for a coffee treat, this stuff will do the trick. In fact, in iced coffee this would be downright delicious.
Has anyone else tried these?
Most ridiculous stories start with one of a few lines. “Remember our last night in Morocco…?” ”So it seemed like a good idea at the time, but…” and “When I was eighteen…”
When I was eighteen.
I got this tattoo on my back on my eighteenth birthday. Fourteen years ago. My mom cried. No wait… she didn’t cry. She called me a masochist. I wonder if she remembers that. It made me wonder what she knew about masochism.
I got this tattoo on a whim. Mostly because I could and I did. No wait… it was more than that. I felt like the only way I could express my individuality was with a Japanese character I picked out of a plastic-coated tattoo artist book. I undoubtedly employed phrases like “this just feels right” to convince myself and calm the nerves of the best friend I coerced into ditching 7th period with me.
This tattoo is the first in a long string of impulsive things I could do and did do as an adult in the world… including but not limited to: dropping out of college before even starting, moving to Vermont with a single suitcase and $973, that one thing I did on that bridge, and all the ridiculous things my Dad should not know about, ever… thanks.
This tattoo isn’t really a Japanese character to me anymore. It’s a sign of this impulse that lives inside me. The impulse that packs up and moves to Miami. The impulse that runs recklessly through a thunderstorm (though one should never involve oneself with the words reckless and thunderstorm). It’s the impulse that totally knocked that drink out of your hand while we were dancing.
It’s the outward expression of I’m sorry/I’m totally not sorry.
On a scale of 1 to tacky…. it’s totally tacky. Let’s just be real. I’m sorry sometimes… but I take it back, because it’s just me.
You know what’s amazing?
When you add it all up. The moving here and there and there, the friends come and gone, the text books, the early morning baker’s hours, the scrapes, the scars, the dinners and drinks, and flights and fights.. the big loves, that thing on the bridge… when you add all up, it’s so weird that the sum of these parts is a bad tattoo, a cat, baguette, and this space on the internet.
I never could have known.
photos by lani trock

Banana Breeze Pie [Photograph: Alexandra Penfold]
Shhh. We want you to tell us a secret. Do you have a dessert that uses a shortcut? An ice cream pie that uses store-bought ice cream (like this?) or a cookies that are filled with Fluff (like these). Shoot us a photo of your best secret shortcut dessert (along with a link to the recipe!) and we'll include it in this week's roundup. Be sure to send it in no later than tomorrow Tuesday, June 18th so we can include it in the Share Your Sweets on Thursday June 20th.
If you're new to Share Your Sweets, take a peep at the rules here. A few notes: we can only take one submission per person, so pick your favorite (or the most recent shot) and send it in. Also, Share Your Sweets is just for the folks at home; no pros or companies! If you want to really impress us, crop your photo so it's 610 pixels wide and 458 pixels tall.

You might not guess from its name that the Farm Bill - officially known as the Food, Farms, and Jobs Bill - funds many programs that extend beyond agricultural production. One such program is the Supplementary Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP), or food stamps, which, together with nutrition programs, account for about 80% of Farm Bill spending. But though it's crucial to the well-being of millions of Americans, the food stamp program is facing significant cuts in this year's Farm Bill.
The Farm Bill is debated and passed every five years in a complicated process. The House and the Senate Agriculture Committees each create and pass a version of the Bill, which is then debated by the larger representative bodies. Then the Senate and House debate their respective bills and create a cohesive compromise - or at least that's the idea. The Farm Bill was due for renewal in September; but it was just last week that the Senate finally passed its version of the Bill, which the House will consider next week. The Bill allocates nearly $100 billion in government spending annually.
Food stamps were a huge issue in this year's Bill debates. The House version of the Bill cuts $20 billion in food stamp funding annually, about a quarter of the program's current budget. The Senate version cuts about $4 billion. Meanwhile, food stamp usage has increased dramatically in the past five years, reaching historically high rates. Cuts to the food stamp program affect millions of Americans, the majority of whom have annual incomes at or below the poverty line. Democrats have generally opposed these cuts, whereas the GOP is pushing for cuts as a way of reducing the federal budget deficit.
The Farm Bill is notoriously difficult to understand - just in researching this column, for instance, I've had to peruse dozens of websites, ranging from wonkish to agricultural. It's nearly impossible for citizens to track the status of the Bill's hundreds of amendments. Consequently, it's easy to imagine that many recipients of the Farm BIll's dozens of grant-giving and public assistance programs - including SNAP, crop subsidies, environmental and conservation grants, and so on - are themselves not entirely sure the status of the Bill's debate and whether their funders are facing budget cuts. This raises the stakes of Farm Bill negotiations, and leaves little room for public participation in the political process.
In the coming weeks, you can track the Farm Bill's progress through sites such as the National Sustainable Agriculture Coalition, The Hill, The Salt, and Food Politics. The public comment period has long passed for Farm Bill amendments - for now, we must wait and see how our politicians will allocate one of the largest and most expensive pieces of legislation in the American government today.
About the Author: A student in Providence, Rhode Island, Leah Douglas loves learning about, talking about, reading about, and consuming food. Her other work can be found at her website.

[Photograph: Niko Triantafillou]
As the so-named Sugar Rush Food Nerdling, it's my job to investigate New York desserts that people may be curious about. This, for good or bad, includes cronut knockoffs. Now I'm not going to run around the city with my head cut off checking out every Tom Dick and Harry who can come up with an alternate name for a half-doughnut, half croissant. But when Flo Fab features one from a credible bakery that Serious Eats loves, I thought I should make a visit.

I'm referring to Dessert Club ChikaLicious' Yummm Bun: a cinnamon bun made with croissant pastry ($4.50). I visited at 7:30 a.m. to buy a fresh one (their website says they don't open until 1 p.m., by the way), and I'll admit—it's pretty damn good! It's similar to a very good, standard cinnamon bun, but the inside is much crispier due to the laminated pastry layers. It's satisfying to bite through in its own way, so long as you think pastry, not gooey dough. The crunchy layers give way to a pleasant and powerful cinnamon flavor, and I think all the fat in the dough transfers that flavor especially well. It's pricey at $4.50 but still costs less than the $5 Cronut.
Additional notes: When I ordered one, they asked if I wanted it with "cream cheese" or "plain." The cream cheese is really a cream cheese glaze, like a more tart Cinnabon topping.
About the author: Native New Yorker Niko Triantafillou is the founder of DessertBuzz.com. You can follow him on Twitter at @DessertBuzz.
VIEW SLIDESHOW: 29 Dishes to Bring to Your Next Picnic
With summer in full swing, there's no better place to be than outside. Forget the pool. Forget the beach. Gather up your favorite checkered blanket, a bottle of water (or wine, if you're feeling adventurous), and a few picnic favorites and head to the park for some al fresco noshing.
We've got 29 tasty, tote-able recipes for your next picnic. See them all in the slideshow above, or jump directly to one of the recipes below!





VIEW SLIDESHOW: First Look: Cocktails at Distilled NY in Tribeca
[Photographs: Maryse Chevriere]
Note: First Looks give previews of new drinks and menus we're curious about. Since they are arranged photo shoots, we do not make critical evaluations or recommendations.
"We're trying to tell a story of distillation in our drinks and on our menu," says Benjamin Wood, bartender at the newly opened Tribeca spot, Distilled NY. The story, Wood says, is about "that process of starting out with one thing and transforming it into something new."

Ben Wood working on a julep.
Wood and his partner behind the bar, Sheldon Wiley, have created a list focused on reimagined classics and nods to the history of the cocktail. There's a play on a Ramos Gin Fizz, for example, that replaces gin with tequila and recalls the drink's colonial-era identity as a hangover cure. One original creation, Dram Betty, features a housemade 3-herb vodka named after Elizabeth "Betty" Flanagan, thought to be an inventor of the first cocktail.
"I like to say our concept across the board—cocktails, wine, beer, food—is mostly American with a global influence and regional bias," explains Wood. "American because we are an American public house, global because we don't want to limit ourselves, and a regional bias based on the historical context of how a public house would have used the products locally available to them."

Sheldon Wiley behind the bar.
You'll see this focus applied in the Mead Americano, a carbonated Negroni riff that features a lightly sweet mead from Washingtonville, New York. (Fans of mead should know also that Distilled will offer four different locally-made options by the glass.)
"For us, it's all about intentionality," says Wood, a Ward III and Goldbar vet. (Sheldon Wiley's resume includes Riff Raff and Hudson Hotel, not to mention the title of World's Fastest Bartender). In their take on the Mint Julep, this means dry shaking the mint instead of muddling it and burying it under a mountain of pebble ice to hold the mint at the bottom. "It forces you to drink from the straw so you get the added aromatics from the mint garnish as you sip," Wood explains.
Check out the slideshow for a peek at the cocktails all $14 at Distilled NY »
211 West Broadway, New York, NY 10013 (map) 212-601-9514; distilledny.com
About the author: Maryse Chevriere is a card-carrying beverage geek on a mission to keep her glass (at least) half full. You can find her behind the bar preaching about peculiar wine at Terroir Park Slope and follow her spirited musings on Twitter @Maryse_Chev1224.
We eat (and love) a lot more than sandwiches at Serious Eats, so in the spirit of A Sandwich a Day, here's Eat This Now, a quick look at food worth sharing. —The Mgmt.

[Photograph: Max Falkowitz]
The saving grace of middling burek is some solid grilled meat. While I wouldn't call the Balkan pies at Bensonhurst's Burektore Illyria bad by any means, I'm not in any rush to go back for them. But I would return for the cevapi ($7 for five, $12 for ten), especially as an appetizer for pizza at near-ish by L & B.
You can think of cevapi as a cross between kebab and sausage. It's usually made from beef and is relatively finely ground; it boasts a sausage-y bounciness, too. But there's no skin, and the meat is fresh, not cured or pre-salted. I've mostly seen the stubby fingers available in orders of five or ten, which is a little creepy if you think about it too much, so don't.
The best cevapi taste simply of beef, loads of garlic, and the smoky char of a grill. Illyria's succeed on all counts, juicy but not too fatty, with a balance of beef and garlic flavors. They come with cucumber, tomato, fresh onion, and ajvar, a creamy roasted red pepper paste that's a little pungent, a little sweet, and a little hot. Stuff your favorite components into some of the shop's fresh bread and you have the makings of a very fine south Brooklyn sandwich.
About the author: Max Falkowitz is the editor of Serious Eats: New York. You can follow him on Twitter at @maxfalkowitz.

[Photographs: Robyn Lee]
You probably recognize Talenti—their pints of gelato and sorbetto are pretty easy to spot on crowded supermarket freezer shelves thanks to their sleek packaging and flavors like Alphonso Mango and Blood Orange. Now, the 10 year old company is rolling out chocolate-covered gelato pops ($5.99/box of three). The first flavors available are Mediterranean Mint, Sea Salt Caramel, Black Raspberry, and Double Dark Chocolate. Here's what we thought.

Upon fracturing the outer chocolate layer of the Mediterranean Mint pop, you are rewarded with a creamy interior. The mint flavor is appropriately bold, and it mixes well with the melting dark chocolate. By extracting the chips from the classic mint chip flavor and converting them into a covering for the gelato, Talenti showcases the freshness of its minty flavor.

Next up was Sea Salt Caramel. Though the original Talenti flavor is a favorite of gelato bloggers the world over, the pops left something to be desired. The traditional gelato ancestor of this bar is delicious because the strong caramel flavor is balanced by the subtle saltiness of the embedded chocolate covered salt truffles. The bars' chocolate covering, along with the creamy caramel gelato, combine to obscure that indispensable trace of saltiness. What results is a still tasty but watered-down version of the original.

The Black Raspberry bar gained the Serious Eats office's overwhelming support. With the combination of chocolaty and fruity flavors, the pop is akin to a frozen raspberry covered in chocolate.

Lastly, we sampled the Double Dark Chocolate option. Not nearly as interesting as the previous three flavors, this bar afforded a satisfying dose of richness with its double helping of chocolate. The two layers of chocolate are distinct taste-wise, but the overall product is in the vein of Ben & Jerry's or Häagen-Dasz chocolate ice cream bars, albeit a cut above.
Have you tried these pops? What did you think?

[Photograph: Nick Kindelsperger]
Try as I might, I will never tire of in-season asparagus. But I do try to switch things up to make sure things stay interesting in the kitchen. One of my favorite variations is to pair the green stalks with white miso, a trick I first learned from this David Chang recipe. While it might sound like an unexpected combination, the miso is salty, creamy, and packed with umami, which is a great pair for the crisp and sweet asparagus.
Whereas the Chang recipe mixes miso with butter, I created more of a glaze, adding in apple cider vinegar, honey, and gochujang, which is a spicy Korean red pepper paste. The mixture is thick, but also tart and hot.
The Chang recipe calls for an egg, too, but I chose to go with crispy broiled tofu. The tofu is cubed, tossed in some oil on a sheet pan, and then placed underneath the broiler. Once the tofu is warm and both sides are lightly browned, the miso mixture is brushed on and the tofu goes back under the flames.
About the author: Nick Kindelsperger is the editor of Serious Eats: Chicago. He loves tacos and spicy food. You can follow him as @nickdk on Twitter.

Gefilte filet o' fish, with horseradish mayo and carrot slaw. [Photograph: Chris Crowley]
Editor's note: What's it like to be a vendor at Brooklyn's popular—and competitive—outdoor market Smorgasburg? This week we turn our attention to NYShuk, who are, like Noah's Scharf & Zoyer, making their debut this season.
Summer is in session at Smorgasburg, and with the increased crowds come a new set of obstacles to overcome. Chiefly, adjusting the menu to accommodate the heat, something that Noah immediately realized he'd need to do. Beginning vendors need to consider how their menu items will be received over the course of a season, not just the first few weeks of spring.
"I had high hopes for the week after [Memorial Day] and it wasn't that good," Noah said. "So I thought, then what's it going to be like in July and August? It really made me open my eyes and say, we have to figure some stuff out, lighten it up and make it more palatable for the summer." The stand's modern Jewish sandwiches make a smart theme, but they're not as ideal come 90 degree days.
On Saturday, Noah enacted his first change for the summer: 86ing his tuna salad. In our early conversations, we talked a lot about "his comfort food," and each sandwich on Noah's menu incorporates some ingredient from that pantry. There is the berber breakfast sandwich's rye bread, his grandmother's kugel recipe for the double down, and, until now, the tuna salad and everything bagel spices served on a croissant.
But the tuna melt may have been too comforting. American comfort food may be having a moment right now, but that moment has been limited to a small set of trendy dishes like mac and cheese, nachos, and fried chicken. Tuna salad? Not so much. And Smorgasburg isn't where you go to change minds or culinary prejudices.
On the ground, it's been difficult for Noah to explain to customers how the tuna melt fits into his Global Jewish milieu. "It wasn't so much the tuna salad that made it my comfort food," Noah said. "It was the everything bagel."
All of this, though, takes a backseat to economics. In order to make the sandwich affordable and practical, Noah had to buy much larger quantities of tuna than he has been selling. Keeping the low-selling sandwich on the menu meant creating more tuna salad than he could sell, and it doesn't last. For all these reasons, and the heaviness of the sandwich, he's dropping it for the summer.
What he's replacing it with is a sandwich both more personal and updated: the gefilte filet o'fish. This is despite his reservations about introducing the sandwich, one that he had believed in from the start but felt was impractical for the market, which we detailed in a previous column. What makes the sandwich impractical is that the gefilte takes three days to prepare. First it is poached, then cooled overnight, fried, and cooled overnight again.
A play on the popular McDonald's sandwich, spun with the yarn of traditional Jewish cooking, the gefilte filet o'fish is served cold on a Martin's potato bread slider bun. Noah sees the sandwich's smaller size as an advantage in the warm weather. The larger tuna melt wasn't necessarily appealing on a 95 degree day; customers don't, after all, come to Smorgasburg just to eat one thing.
Economically, the sandwich is a mixed bag. It's cheaper to produce than the tuna melt but comes with a greater labor cost. But Noah's ready to take the plunge, despite once worrying that it might be out of place in the Williamsburg market.
As Noah tests the waters at Smorgasburg with this new fish sandwich, he'll be pivoting his stand on the steadily increasing sales of the berber breakfast sandwich and the kugel double down. We talked about the ripples of a lost May—"looking back, we were starting to get into a groove, starting to break even, and it set us back"—and growing the business. Smorgasburg provides its vendors with a big platform, but that does not mean they can or should stay put and hold tight.
"The problem is the limitations of Smorgasburg mean you can only do so much while you're there," Noah explained, echoing a theme we've explored before. For a vendor like Scharf & Zoyer, success at Smorgasburg means tiptoeing a fine line between exploiting your niche and not being reduced to a single product in the eyes of the consumer.
Looking to expand his profile, Noah will be hosting his first ever pop up, "Scharf and Snickered," at Brooklyn Oenology on June 25th. The menu will include such dishes as chopped liver with gribenes on a bagel chip, sweet and sour meatball sliders with mushroom ketchup and provolone, and chocolate- and cardamom-dipped mandel bread, which he will be selling as a special next Saturday. The dinner, as Noah sees it, is a chance to spread Scharf & Zoyer's wings.
"It's to show off all the good stuff that we make that's not necessarily going to work one day a week at Smorgasburg," Noah told me. In the coming weeks, we'll deal with more of the obstacles Noah is facing as Scharf & Zoyer transitions into the summer, the lessons from their first pop up dinner, and the other ways in which Noah is expanding his brand.
Introducing Scharf & Zoyer » Opening Day on 1 Hour of Sleep » Getting in Focus, Developing a 'Killer App' » How a Vendor Figures Out Portion Control » Meeting Customer Expectations and the Bottom Line » The Physical & Psychological Toll, Part 1 » A Look at Couscous Specialists NY Shuk » The Psychological Stress of Lost Opportunities »
About the author: Chris Crowley is the author of the Bronx Eats and Anatomy of A Smorgasburg Pop Up columns. Follow him on Twitter, if you'd like. In person, your best bet is the window seat at Neerob, or waiting in line at the Lechonera La Piranha trailer.
"We used to live in the land of pho," says Emmanuelle bartender Phoebe Esmon of her former digs (with fiancé Christian Gaal) in Vietnamese-food-blessed South Philadelphia. Though the couple has since decamped to a largely Polish nabe due north, they soaked up enough broth through consumption and osmosis (Esmon doesn't eat meat) to come up with a cocktail mimicking the beef-based noodle soup.
To a base of gin or vodka, Esmon adds lime juice and a light homemade syrup infused with all the essential flavors that build a pho broth: star anise, cinnamon, clove, nutmeg, pecan, charred ginger and onions. She then shakes in mint, Thai basil, and cilantro (producing a "lovely shade of pond water," she jokes) and garnishes with her own pickled bean sprouts and an optional float of sriracha. The ingredients are congruent with a summertime poolside cooler, with final squeeze-bottle addition pointing the drink toward Bloody Mary territory once stirred in.
"It's really a fancy gimlet," says Esmon of the cocktail, which sports a Lebowski-inspired moniker, 'Worthy F**king Adversary'. The name may motivate a good number of orders, but she's quick to point out that "this drink never gets sent back—even if people don't know what it was when they ordered it."
1052 N Hancock Street #67, Philadelphia (map) 267-639-2470; http://drinkemmanuelle.com/
About the author: Drew Lazor is a freelance food and drink writer based in Philadelphia. Check out more of his work at drewlazor.com and say hi on Twitter: @drewlazor.
VIEW SLIDESHOW: My Pie Monday: Squash Blossom Pizza, Potato Pie, and More!
Come feast your eyes on some My Pie Monday action! This week's round-up of homemade pizzas run the gamut—we've got red pies, white pies, and pretty much everything in between. Click through the slideshow to see them all!
As always, if you're making pizza at home, we wanna see. Send us a shot for next week's My Pie Monday. Just take one snapshot of your homemade pizza, briefly describe your cooking method, and follow these instructions to get it to Slice HQ by 8pm EST on Thursday night. Please title your email "My Pie Monday" and make sure to include your Serious Eats username!
Looking for inspiration? Find dozens of recipes and home kitchen adaptations in our Pizza-Making Guide or peruse our collection of past My Pie Monday contributions.
Even if you're not baking your own pies, we definitely want to hear about the ones you're eating. Submit to My Best Slice to help us spotlight the great pizza being enjoyed across the country. We don't care whether it's a super-simple corner slice or a fancy-pants pie, so long as its memorable. Send a photo and short description to pizz[at]seriouseats.com!
About the author: Niki Achitoff-Gray is the associate editor of Serious Eats and a part-time student at the Institute of Culinary Education. She's pretty big into pizza. Also, she likes offal. A lot.
VIEW SLIDESHOW: Hearty Korean-Chinese Cold Noodles And 'Dog Meat' at Shen Yang in L.A.
The waitress knew what we were asking before we even finished the sentence: "This isn't really dog meat," she said in Mandarin. "It's just shredded pork. There's no way we could serve dog in the States."
This was our introduction to Shen Yang Restaurant, a recently opened Monterey Park joint specializing in the food from Shenyang, China, where dog meat is considered a delicacy. Shenyang is the capital of Liaoning, a coastal province in China bordering North Korea. Its cuisine is similar to the fare found in neighbors Beijing and Shandong, but there's a considerable Manchu, Mongolian and Korean influence as well. Salt, oil, vinegar, and soy sauce are used in heavy rotation, and many of the region's signature dishes feature a distinct sweet and salty taste.
Meals are heavily induated with suan cai, the Chinese equivalent of sauerkraut, and because there's a sizeable Korean population in the city, cold noodle dishes like naengmyeon are common. In fact, the restaurant's Chinese name is "Shenyang Lengmian," literally "Shenyang cold noodles." The clientele leans toward northern Chinese natives, and according to a waitress, the entire staff is from Shenyang. Noodles aside, there's a lot of meat, offal and skewer options on the menu. Beers are on tap to help wash it all down.
Take a look at more of the menu in the slideshow above.
1639 W Garvey Ave., Monterey Park, CA 91754 (map) 626-576-9088
About the author: Clarissa Wei writes about Chinese food in Los Angeles. Her website is at clarissawei.com.
I hesitate to make big, definitive declarations about recipes. We all have different tastes and preferences, so "the best" to one person may not appeal to another. But, these cookies. Well, these cookies are something special. I'm just going to say it. This is my new favorite chocolate cookie.
These cookies exist somewhere between cookies and brownies. If you're a fan of both, then you'll be ecstatic. While they take on the form of a cookie, the texture is fudgy like a brownie or a truffle. And, they are oh so rich. Wow.
VIEW SLIDESHOW: 8 Ideas for Preserving Your Spring Strawberries
Ripe strawberries are dwindling in the markets—but some home canning can preserve the taste of spring for weeks or months to come. We've got a recipe for the Perfect Strawberry Jam (if we do say so ourselves) but also interesting variations including a strawberry jam given depth from balsamic vinegar and a strawberry jam that's made in the freezer.
Need some pointers on making jam at home? Right this way. Interested in freezer jam in particular? Check out our guide.
Perfect Strawberry Jam Strawberry Rhubarb Jam with Honey and Cinnamon Strawberry Lemon Curd Strawberry Balsamic Black Pepper Jam Rhubarb-Strawberry Jam Cranberry Strawberry Jam Strawberry Kiwi Jam Strawberry Mint Freezer Jam

[Illustration: Robyn Lee]
Editor's note: Here to answer your questions is contributing writer, former managing and SENY editor, and frequent author of our NYC restaurant reviews Carey Jones. We'll take a few of your questions each week and give you the New York restaurant advice you're looking for. Email carey@seriouseats.com with the subject line Ask the Critic to submit your question!
This week on Ask the Critic: You've heard about cronuts, Dominique Ansel's croissant-doughnut hybrid. Are they worth the line?
I can't stop hearing about "cronuts" from Dominique Ansel. I was visiting friends in Philadelphia last weekend from NY and more than one person asked me if I'd tried them. Even friends who don't care about food have forwarded me articles about cronuts. Tell it to me straight: are they worth it? Am I missing out by not standing in line?
In a word? No.
But let me qualify that.
Dominique Ansel is a superb bakery; it's been my favorite in Manhattan since it opened a year and a half ago. Ansel sells the best pastry I've ever eaten, anywhere, ever: the DKA (Dominique's Kouign-Amman). At Serious Eats, you know it's a special day when the DKAs show up. A half-dozen appeared for my birthday. They played a starring role in my goodbye breakfast when I left the Serious Eats office.

The DKA. [Photo: Robyn Lee]
Want something (dare I say it) better than a cronut? Show up to Dominique Ansel after opening. (Although not too late, because other baked goods can sell out too.) Walk in, no crazed scalpers in sight, and pick up a few DKAs. They've got everything you're looking for. Crazy crisped-up croissant dough edges and layers? Check. Something even sweeter and richer within? Check. A supremely tasty pastry, and something you've probably never had before? Check.
There's no secondary market for DKAs, but to me, that's a positive. I can actually, you know, buy one.
Are cronuts delicious? Well, yes. But is anything of a single serving worth $30, bought from a shady guy on Craigslist delicious? I'd venture a no.
I have nothing but respect for Dominique Ansel and think his bakery deserves every bit of attention it's getting. But the guy is no one-hit wonder, no gimmick-maker, and I hope people don't think of him that way. Clearly, he's hit upon a brilliant (or at least wildly popular) idea, and hey, more power to him. But he's not a cronut machine. I've had out-of-town friends ask me about cronuts, too. My response? Dominique Ansel is a fabulous bakery. Go there. Get a DKA. Get a few warm, baked-to-order madeleines, or crisp-edged canelés. Or anything else. And hey, if you somehow hit cronut hour? Do it.

Obligatory cronut shot. [Photograph: Niko Triantafillou]
But to get up before dawn and wait in line with people who may never have heard of Dominique Ansel before, who don't really care if they get the best pastry—just need the cronut that everyone's talking about? Not so much.
Email carey@seriouseats.com with the subject line Ask the Critic to submit your question. All questions will be read, though unfortunately not all can be answered.
About the author: Carey Jones is the former Senior Managing Editor of Serious Eats. Follow her on Twitter (@careyjones).
Editor's Note: In this great city of ours, one could eat a different sandwich every day of the year--so that's what we'll do. Here's A Sandwich a Day, our daily look at sandwiches around the Windy City. Got a sandwich we should check out? Let us know!

[Photograph: Dennis Lee]
I always love little grocery stores that also function as restaurants, especially when they have countertops in the back. Take Bari, for example. Bari's a teeny tiny little Italian grocery store with a butcher and deli counter in the back, where you can get some truly solid sandwiches.
My neighborhood recently(ish) got a little grocery store that sells organic produce, meat, and other necessities called Plenty Grocery and Deli. If you're looking for a sandwich in the neighborhood other than the Jimmy John's across the street, pop in and mosey towards the back. You'll see a deli counter where everything is sliced and assembled to order.
The roast beef and horsey cheddar ($8.00) is a two-meal-sized sandwich decked out with roast beef, horseradish cheddar, lettuce, tomatoes, red onions, and any condiments you request, which in my case meant horseradish mayo. The roast beef is tender and peppery, with a touch of horseradish bite from the cheese, and an additional horseradish hit pops in with the mayo. The Tuscan bread is spongy and fluffy, yet a bit chewy, and the cool lettuce and tomato round out a solid deli sandwich. Part of the fun, though, is wandering around the store while you wait.
2036 W Division St, Chicago, IL 60622(map) 773-270-1509 plentygoodfood.com
About the author: After a failed attempt at starting a chain of theme restaurants called "Smellen Keller," Dennis Lee traveled the world to discover his true passion. Sadly, midwifery didn't pan out. Now he works in a cubicle, and screws around as much as possible. Follow his shenanigans on Twitter.

[Photograph: @sstiavetti]
The way to my heart is through a huge helping of meaty spaghetti sauce. Having grown up Italian in the Bay Area, spaghetti is something my mom made all the time; to this day I still ask her to make it every time she invites me to dinner. It's my idea of the world's most comforting food: all carbs and meat, with some salty parmesan scattered over the top. Heaven.
This particular spaghetti sauce isn't my mom's recipe, though. It's a recipe developed entirely by my boyfriend—an impressive feat considering he hasn't been cooking all that long. He created this sauce as a way to treat me to something special, something that comforts me like almost nothing else.
The sauce is perfectly tangy, with the addition of lemon juice and red wine vinegar providing bright, bouncy notes of flavor, followed up by a salty layer of capers that brings the whole thing home. And don't even get me started on the beefy richness...I may drift off into a lazy, hazy food coma just thinking about it, with that luxurious smile I've been known to sport after the boy cooks me dinner.
About the author: Stephanie Stiavetti is a writer and cookbook author in San Francisco. Her food blog, The Culinary Life, is a repository for all things comfort food related, from savory dinners to transcendental desserts. She also publishes a monthly culinary newsletter full of stories, review, and helpful tips. Stephanie's cookbook, Melt: the Art of Macaroni and Cheese, celebrates America's favorite dish by recreating it with specialty cheeses. Available for preorder now.
Get the Recipe!
[Photographs: J. Kenji Lopez-Alt]
It's time for another round of The Food Lab. Got a suggestion for an upcoming topic? Email Kenji here, and he'll do his best to answer your queries in a future post. Become a fan of The Food Lab on Facebook or follow it on Twitter for play-by-plays on future kitchen tests and recipe experiments.
Welcome to Burger Toppings Week 2013. Each day this week we'll be presenting a brand new set of burger toppings, all crafted in accordance to The Principles of Topping Burgers, a plan designed to maximize flavor and textural contrasts to provide you with the ultimate burgering experience. Let's jump right in, shall we?
We all know how seductive a plate of poutine can be, right? You know, that Canadian late-night dish of fresh fries smothered with squeaky cheese curds and hot, meaty gravy? After a few beers it beckons to you, seduces you. A cheese-clad goddess enrobed in gravy, ready to nip your hangover in the bud. Heck, even without the beer goggles poutine is a pretty tough mistress to turn away.
So what happens when your poutine employs her crafty wiles on an unsuspecting burger?
The Poutine Burger emerges.
This is what happens when your poutine and your hamburger slink off into some dimly lit corner and re-emerge a bit more disheveled and a whole lot messier. It's a delicious burger, to be sure, but one you probably shouldn't consume in mixed company.

There are only three elements that make up a perfect plate of poutine. First is really good fries. When designing this burger, I started by taking a very literal approach: topping a burger with poutine made with standard, thick-cut french fries. It was delicious, but it was not more than the sum of its parts, as a well-designed sandwich should be.
The problem? The fries, despite their crisp exterior, were simply too similar in texture to the burger itself. Moist-on-moist doesn't make for the most exciting bite of food. I gradually reduced the thickness of my fries in order to increase their crisp-crust-to-interior ratio until I finally reached the stage where they were literally matchstick-thickness, crisp all the way through.

They weren't the classic poutine-style fries, but I felt that the added textural contrast they gave to the dish was enough to warrant a slight deviation from utter authenticity.
In order to get the fries crisp without becoming too dark and acrid tasting, I washed them in water until all of their residual starch was washed away.

This allowed me to cook them until completely crisp while still maintaining a nice golden-brown color with a clean, potato-y flavor.
The other two elements of poutine—the cheese curds and the gravy—didn't require much tinkering at all; they worked as-is with the burger concept. If you have a local cheese maker, most likely they'll sell you fresh cheese curd if you ask them. You can order them online (there are a number of options available on Amazon, or you can do what I did: make them yourself with fresh milk and rennet tablets (the process is remarkably easy, requiring nothing more than a thermometer and a pot).
As for the gravy, any sort of meat broth-based homemade gravy will do. This is a good place to start. Poutine gravy tends to be glossier and shinier than your standard roux-thickened American-style gravy, so if you want to get that look just right, you should thicken your gravy with a pure starch like cornstarch or arrowroot as opposed to flour.

Once you've got your elements all set, it's a simple matter of putting it all together. You can cook your burgers in a skillet if you'd like, but this is a topping set designed for a thick, hearty burger from the backyard grill. Take a look at our Guide to Grilling Great Burgers for some good general principles on how to get the most out of the meat between your buns.
Finally, for the sake of some fresh, non-fried crunch, I like to line my bottom bun with plenty of fresh-sliced onions. White onions or Vidalia are the way to go. Their sweetness works perfectly with the meat and the gravy.
Some may question whether all of this extravagance is necessary. I would question whether those folks know how to seek pleasure out of life.
About the author: J. Kenji Lopez-Alt is the Chief Creative Officer of Serious Eats where he likes to explore the science of home cooking in his weekly column The Food Lab. You can follow him at @thefoodlab on Twitter, or at The Food Lab on Facebook.
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[Photograph: J. Kenji Lopez-Alt]
We're teaming up with CourseHorse, a free service that aggregates classes to take in your spare time. This week: 22 food-centric courses selected by the Serious Eats staff to bone up on your cooking chops and food knowledge.
Note: CourseHorse is offering a special deal for first-time course subscribers: receive $5 off your first class with the promo code SeriousEatsNY.
100% Bacon Tuesday, June 18th, 6:30 p.m. to 9:00 p.m. Can't get enough bacon? Prepare a bacon-centric meal with Cook&Go, including entrees, appetizers, and dessert. $49. 443 W 16th Street, New York, NY; sign up here
Chinese for Curious Foodies Wednesday, June 19th, 8:30 p.m. to 10:00 p.m. Know how order very spicy food in Mandarin? You will after this class. Enjoy your favorite Chinese bites during the class, then test your skills out in an optional field trip that weekend at Brooklyn eateries. $15. Brooklyn Brainery, 190 Underhill Avenue, Brooklyn, NY; sign up here
Vietnamese Street Food Thursday, June 20th, 6:30 p.m. to 8:30 p.m. Learn to combine the distinct flavors of Vietnamese cooking in your own kitchen, dishes like banh mi, spring rolls with fresh vegetables, steamed buns, and caramel pork belly. $75. The Brooklyn Kitchen, 100 Frost Street, Brooklyn, NY; sign up here
16 Wines, 8 Cheeses, 1 Night Friday, June 21st, 7:00 p.m. to 9:30 p.m. Like the typical wine class you'll learn what makes them different and which cheeses you can pair them with. Unlike the typical wine class, NYC Wine Classes will pair each cheese with two wines so you learn what wine is right for your tastes. Eat, drink, and get some ideas for your next trip to the wine shop. $90. 167 West 23rd Street, New York, NY; sign up here
Rethink Everything You Thought You Knew About Brunch Saturday, June 22nd, 12:00 p.m. to 3:00 p.m. Break out of your brunch rut and learn some new tricks. Chef Fed of Sex on the Table Cooking School will show you how to use ingredients like asparagus in dessert. Bring your appetite—you'll be enjoying a three-course brunch. $99. 49 East 1st Street, New York, NY; sign up here
Food Styling & Photography Sunday, June 23rd, 9:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. Fancy yourself a food photographer? Come out for a one day intensive workshop focusing on both plating and photography. You'll be briefed on everything from basic camera techniques to post processing, white balance to photo props. Bring your digital SLR or other camera; a tripod and laptop are suggested, but not required. $350 Sex on the Table Cooking School, 49 East 1st Street, New York, NY; sign up here
Mozzarella Making Tuesday, June 25th, 6:30 p.m. to 8:00 p.m. The cheese heads at Murray's Cheese want to show you how to make your own smooth mozzarella at home. Learn the technique, make your own cheese to take home, and enjoy a range of samples with a glass of wine. $100. 254 Bleecker Street, New York, NY; sign up here
ICE Happy Hour: Gin Cocktails Wednesday, June 26th, 5:30 p.m. to 7:00 p.m. Break through your mid-week rut with this short but sweet class from The Institute of Culinary Education. Learn three of the classic gin cocktails to mix at home. $50. 50 W. 23rd Street, New York, NY; sign up here
BBQ School with Pit Boss Ari White Wednesday, June 26th, 7:30 p.m. to 9:30 p.m. A chance to learn more about grilling and barbecue on wood-burning grill. The class covers brisket, classic sides, sauces, rubs, and even smoky dessert. $105. The Center for Kosher Culinary Arts, 1407 Coney Island Avenue, Brooklyn, NY; sign up here
Mezcal: Small Batches, Big Flavor Friday, June 28th, 6:30 p.m. to 8:30 p.m. You've been seeing Mezcal pop up more and more in bars; ready to try it out for yourself? Experts on Mezcal from Oaxaca will be at Astor Center to present different small-batch mezcals in all their smoky, sweet glory and answer your questions about this rising star of the cocktail world. $35. 399 Lafayette Street, New York, NY; sign up here
Summer Berry Pie Making Saturday, June 29th, 3:30 p.m. to 6:00 p.m. Take advantage of all the fresh summer produce with the help of Camaje. Using fresh, seasonal produce, you'll create fruit pies with two different crust recipes as the base. Enjoy your work, fresh from the oven, at the end of class. $95. 85 MacDougal Street, New York, NY; sign up here
Wings & Beer Friday, July 5th, 6:00 p.m. to 10:30 p.m. End your long work week with plenty of wings and beer. The Institute of Culinary Education wants to show you there's so much more to wings than BBQ or buffalo. Alterna-wings include Miso Glazed, Honey Mustard, and more. $115. 50 W. 23rd Street, New York, NY; sign up here
Savory Summer Tarts, Galettes & Cobbler Monday, July 8th, 6:45 p.m. to 10:30 p.m. Using the irresistibly fresh ingredient of the summer, Pie Corps schools you on the ins and outs of pie, from filling to crust and building your own flavor combinations. $70. 77 Driggs Avenue, Brooklyn, NY; sign up here
Shop & Cook: Union Square Farmers' Market Saturday, July 13th, 10:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m. Learn the ins and outs of picking the best of the fresh produce available at the Union Square farmers' market before you head back to Camaje to turn your finds into a seasonal meal. This is the sister class of their fast-selling sold-out Chinatown course. $105. 85 MacDougal Street, New York, NY; sign up here
The Gastro-Pub Saturday, July 20th, 10:00 a.m. to 2:30 p.m. You've seen these dishes on menus across the city, now make them at home or for a dinner party. They're the trendiest dishes of the gastro-pubs: Roasted Bone Marrow, Devils on Horseback, and Bacon Roasted Brussels Sprouts. After you learn the techniques from The Institute of Culinary Education's teacher, you enjoy them with ales, bitters, porters, and stouts. $115. 50 W. 23rd Street, New York, NY; sign up here
Knife Skills: Sharpening, Slicing & Chopping Tuesday, June 18th, 7:00 p.m. to 10:00 p.m. $97. 3rd Ward, 195 Morgan Avenue, Brooklyn, NY; sign up here
Knife Skills (Adult) Friday, June 21st, 7:00 p.m. to 9:00 p.m. Friday, July 26th, 7:00 p.m. to 9:00 p.m. $65. Taste Buds Kitchen, 109 West 27th Street, 10th Floor, New York, NY; sign up here
Knife Skills 1 Saturday, June 22nd, 10:00 a.m. to 1:00 p.m. Saturday, June 22nd, 2:00 p.m. to 5:00 p.m. $105. The Institute of Culinary Education, 50 W. 23rd Street, New York, NY; sign up here
Knife Skills Sunday, June 23rd, 10:30 a.m. to 1:30 p.m. $75. The Center for Kosher Culinary Arts, 1407 Coney Island Ave, Brooklyn, NY; sign up here
Knife Skills Tuesday, June 25th, 6:30 p.m. to 9:00 p.m. $75. Camaje, 85 MacDougal Street, New York, NY; sign up here
Six Basic Cooking Techniques Thursday, June 27th, 7:00 p.m. to 9:30 p.m. $100. Home Cooking New York, 236 West 26th Street, #601, New York, NY; sign up here
Knife Skills Wednesday, June 19th, 6:30 p.m. to 8:30 p.m. Tuesday, July 30th, 6:30 p.m. to 8:30 p.m. Friday, August 2nd, 6:30 p.m. to 8:30 p.m. Saturday, August 3rd, 2:00 p.m. to 4:00 p.m. Saturday, August 10th, 2:00 p.m. to 4:00 p.m. Tuesday, August 13th, 6:30 p.m. to 8:30 p.m. Friday, August 16th, 6:30 p.m. to 8:30 p.m. Wednesday, August 21st, 6:30 p.m. to 8:30 p.m. Tuesday, August 27th, 6:30 p.m. to 8:30 p.m. $65. The Brooklyn Kitchen, 100 Frost St, Brooklyn, NY; sign up here
See more cooking classes over on CourseHorse »

[Photograph: Jean-Pierre Gabriel]
This summer, lighten heavy puddings with a twist of citrus, like in the Le Pain Quotidien Cookbook's chia seed porridge. Heady blood orange juice soaks the seeds, and it all comes together with fresh, tart yogurt.
Tips: This recipe couldn't really be simpler, but if you truly want to go effortless, buy some fresh-squeezed blood orange juice to soak the chia seeds, along with two whole blood oranges. No squeezing required.
Tweaks: If the singular flavor of blood orange proves to be too much, tuck tiny slices of fresh nectarine into the porridge. It's a flavor and texture contrast that adds to the dish without overshadowing its main component.
As always with our Bake the Book feature, we have five (5) copies of Le Pain Quotidien Cookbook to give away.
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[Photograph: Jean-Pierre Gabriel]
Alain Coumont founded Le Pain Quotidien out of necessity. After studying in hotel school and working as a pastry chef for Georges Blanc, he opened his own restaurant in his native Brussels, Le Café du Dôme. Unable to guarantee a bread supply from France, he started making his own. It soon became evident that his bread oven produced too much for his restaurant alone. And thus, Le Pain Quotidien, or "the daily bread", was born.
Now locations all over the world serve patrons their daily bread, supported by a broad but simple menu rooted in Belgian tradition and enhanced by local offerings. The Le Pain Quotidien Cookbook is a collection of this global inspiration. The trademark Le Pain tartines reflect that, featuring flavors from curried cauliflower to Camembert, recipes for many of which are included in the book.
The recipes in Le Pain Quotidien Cookbook are as appealingly simple as the restaurant's menu. It's an excellent cookbook for summer, with a spread of soups and salads that are doubly refreshing; once for the ingredients, and once for the effort you won't need to expend. It's all here, even the sourdough starter that launched Coumont's company.
For the next two weeks, we'll be sampling the eclectic and classic flavors that make up Le Pain Quotidien's desserts. Chia seed porridge flavored with blood oranges and a licorice liquor-infused banana pie are just the beginning. From indulgently rich chocolate tarts to screamingly fresh fruit (and canelés in between!) the ethos of simple, fresh, and beautiful food shines.
Thanks to the generous folks over at Octopus Publishing, we are giving away five (5) copies of Le Pain Quotidien Cookbook this week. All you have to do is share your daily indulgence in the comments section below!
VIEW SLIDESHOW: Ask a Sommelier: One Wine, Different Entrees
Here's the situation: you're at dinner with three friends, and you all order wildly different entrees. One chooses a pasta with vegetables, some else goes for the fish, another orders steak, and last person gets the chicken. For dinners like this, how do you go about ordering wine to share? Is there a general rule for picking a wine that will be as versatile as possible when it comes to pairing with food? Or is there another way to tackle the problem?
We called in our wine experts to get their advice; here's what they had to say.
There's a lot to sip on Serious Eats: Drinks. Keep in the loop with our weekly newsletter.
VIEW SLIDESHOW: 9 Crab Dishes We Love In Chicago
[Photographs: Amy Cavanaugh]
I grew up in New England, where my family spent about a month each summer on the shores of Connecticut and Maine, and where I ate sweet bay scallops like candy; developed a taste for Connecticut-style lobster rolls, served warm with just butter (not to be confused with the mayo-bound Maine rolls); and devoured crab in any form possible.
Then I moved to Maryland to go to graduate school and further honed my passion for crab through the crab feast, which I ate both in Chesapeake Bay-hugging restaurants and standing up in friends' kitchens. To have a crab feast, you need to first cover the table with newspaper. Then order more crabs than you think you can eat. Also, you'll want a pitcher of beer. Finally, use a mallet to shatter the shells on the Old Bay-encrusted crabs and go to town.
And then I moved to Chicago, and I wondered where I would get my seafood fix. Thanks to modern transportation, it's not difficult to dine on seafood not long out of the ocean, even in the middle of the country. But I still wondered how exactly the crabs got here, so I called up Mark Palicki, vice president of marketing for Bensenville, IL-based Fortune Fish, to talk about sourcing crabs for Chicago restaurants.
"Every morning our buyer talks to the people that catch the soft-shells, and she'll say, 'what do you have?'" he says. "They'll check their traps and let her know what they have in terms of crabs in different sizes. She'll order based on our needs and they'll pack them live in a box of straw and air freight them to us the next day."
So when the crabs arrive at restaurants, they've been out of the water just one to two days. Since soft-shell crabs are so delicate, they have to fly, but hard-shelled crabs are much stronger and can stand up to being transported for two days in a truck that arrives at Fortune Fish three days a week.
As for other types of crab you'll see in Chicago, Palicki says that blue crab is what most people eat, and that 50 years ago all crabs were coming out of the Chesapeake.
"Now a lot of that comes from Asia and there's domestic crab from Louisiana," he says. "There's still some from the Chesapeake, but demand for crab has increased and now the Chesapeake is not what it's been" in terms of water quality.
Plus there's also some Dungeness crab that crops up here (and in a few dishes here!), but Palicki notes that it's much more popular on the West Coast. Fortune does source some Dungeness, but they mostly focus on the legs, and not the whole animal.
When I was eating crabs around town, most were blue crab, but there were also some Dungeness and soft-shell crabs. I could have eaten crab cakes for the rest of my life without exhausting all the options in Chicago, so I only wanted to include a couple that had really notable preparations. I also wanted to include some dishes in which the crab was the star, and others in which it was an accent, to see how the seafood can be used in a variety of different ways.
Here are 9 crab dishes I love in Chicago.
View Crab Dishes We Love in Chicago in a larger map

Fire damage at Cayuga's "Beanery," the facility the farm relies on to clean and process its grains and beans.
You may not have heard about Cayuga Pure Organics, but if you're into whole grains and live in the Northeast, you may have tasted their work. The farm is a major producer of organic, non-GMO whole grains, flours, and dried beans. Those flours make their way into the ovens of esteemed bakeries like Hot Bread Kitchen and Scratch Bread; you can find their grains and beans on menus at Eleven Madison Park, Roberta's, the Spotted Pig, and more. Their products are also in select New York groceries for retail purchase.
But the farm recently suffered a fire that has crippled its production, and unless it rebuilds quickly, it runs the risk of going under.
The image above is what's left of Cayuga's "Beanery," the facility the farm relies on to clean and process grains and beans for distribution. Until they build a new one, and obtain the $200,000+ for its construction, they're unable to get freshly harvested crops to market. In a low-margin business like specialty farming, that's very bad news.
The farm has set up a crowdfunding site where you can help them reach their $238,000 goal. Their site explains what the funds will be used for in detail: electrical work, plumbing, new equipment, and the like.
"[Cayuga] has become an integral part of [New York's] Greenmarket by bringing the staple crops of grains and legumes to the market place," says June Russell, the Manager of Farm Inspections & Strategic Development at GrowNYC. "With only four years under their belt, they have accomplished a great deal. The barn fire is a setback, but it gives [Cayuga] the opportunity to build back stronger than they were before."

[Photograph: Michael Harlan Turkell]
Joanne Chang begins her recipe for Flour Bakery's lamb sandwich with a series of quotes from customers, like "I have dreams about your lamb sandwich" and, "I want to marry your lamb sandwich." While I'm pretty sure I'd never attempt to run off with a stack of her sandwiches, I can understand the sentiment: This sandwich is a commitment, but well worth your time.
Chang's recipe in her new cookbook Flour, Too is at least a two day process. There's bread to be baked; lamb to be salted overnight, roasted, and cooled; chutney to be simmered; and goat cheese spread to be mushed together. It sounds like a lot of work. And it is a lot of work. It's also totally worth it. The garlic- and rosemary- rubbed lamb is roasted just long enough to cook through while still retaining its rosy red interior. Thin slices of the slightly gamey meat play well with the tangy-sweet tomato chutney and creamy, herbal goat cheese. Sandwiched between two slices of Flour's focaccia, it's a hauntingly delightful lunch.
Why I picked this recipe: With such glowing reviews listed at the top of the recipe, this sandwich was pretty hard to resist. Also, lamb sandwiches are great and don't get nearly enough time in the spotlight.
What worked: I loved everything about this, bread to spread.
What didn't: No problems at all.
Suggested tweaks: You can skip the bread baking part of the recipe and use your favorite sandwich loaf.
As always with our Cook the Book feature, we have five (5) copies of Flour, Too to give away this week.
About the author: Kate Williams is a freelance writer and personal chef living in Berkeley, CA. She is a contributor to The Oxford American and Berkeleyside NOSH, and she blogs at cookingwolves.wordpress.com.
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Between bites of the undeniably gooey sticky buns, perfect chocolate chip cookies, and majestic Boston cream pies, it's easy to forget that Boston's famed Flour Bakery serves more than just sweets. In fact, during my time living in Beantown, I rarely ventured past the sweets display on my visits to Joanne Chang's citywide outposts. But now that I've gotten my hands on Chang's new cookbook, Flour, Too, I can see all that I was missing. I found myself wishing I was still around to try some of her savory creations. Still, having an opportunity to make these dishes at home is almost as good.
All of the Flour bakeries serve three meals a day, and Flour, Too gets the same treatment. A perusal of the book gives the reader a picture of a day filled with unique, flavor-packed meals and indulgences. Breakfast pastries are accompanied by items like egg sandwiches and breakfast pizzas. Lunch reads like a typical bakery menu—soups, salads, and sandwiches—but each item is amplified with accouterments like tangy chutneys, fried onions, and candied lemons. Dinners are light and take-out ready. (At Flour, the dinner items are meant to be picked up and taken home.) And there are, of course, many recipes for desserts and sweet treats to accompany the more wholesome items.
In typical Chang fashion, the new book is chock full of tips and tricks for pulling off intricate Flour dishes at home. The recipe steps are elaborate and detailed, each measurement checked and re-checked by Chang's meticulous hand. In other words, the recipes may not be the simplest to pull off, but they are certainly not confusing or difficult. With Chang's trusting voice, it is easy to believe that both a towering croquembouche and a roast lamb sandwich made entirely from scratch (even down to the bread) are easily within reach for anyone with a few extra hours on their hands.
This week, we'll sample a some of Chang's savories. That aforementioned lamb sandwich will make an appearance, as well as a crisp white gazpacho. Later we'll toss an Asian celery salad into the mix, followed by braised chickpeas with a cornucopia of veggies and a dollop of harissa yogurt. Finally, we'll round things out with a slow-baked salmon accompanied by a lemony tabouli salad.
About the author: Kate Williams is a freelance writer and personal chef living in Berkeley, CA. She is a contributor to The Oxford American and Berkeleyside NOSH, and she blogs at cookingwolves.wordpress.com.
[Photograph: Carrie Vasios]
What is an easy recipe? I've found it varies from person to person. For me, it's something that involves prep work of less than 25 minutes. That's because I'll often make recipes that require all sorts of resting and kneading and careful watching—a lot of people would only consider an "easy" recipe something that takes about 15 minutes from start to finish.
Then there's the issue of an "easy" recipe versus a recipe that's simply a shortcut. Is the recipe inherently easy or is it a fast version of a more complicated dish? I've seen "easy" applied to both. I'm bringing this up because if you look through cookbooks or snoop around the internet for an easy danish recipe what you'll find are recipes that give you shortcuts for the dough.
Traditional danishes are a viennoiserie pastry made with a buttery dough that's layered to achieve a flakey effect similar to a croissant. Easy versions all seem to replace the homemade dough, which is indeed time intensive, with store-bought puff pastry or, just as frequently, with Pillsbury Crescent Rolls. I experimented with both.
This is the version that uses PCR, which, if you'll believe it, I'd never had before. The first thing I realized is that Crescent Rolls aren't really croissants—duh—being more on the bready side than particularly flakey. But I find their slight dryness to be advantageous when making a fruit danish. The strawberries give off some juice, and the Crescent dough was better able to handle it without getting soggy.
The interior of the danish is where it's at, anyway. The sweetened cream cheese-based filling tastes just like the coffee shop danishes of my youth, with sliced strawberries adding a little fruity kick. Do not dispense with the icing, which takes about two minutes to make and adds that extra sugary drizzle to tie it all together.
About the author: Carrie Vasios is the editor of Serious Eats: Sweets. She likes to peruse her large collection of cookbooks while eating jam from the jar. You can follow her on Twitter @carrievasios
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Roasting coffee for an Ethiopian coffee ceremony. [Photograph: Dieter Zirnig on Flickr]
Variety isn't just the spice of life: It's also one of the most beautiful and exciting things about coffee. In the next few columns, we'll be taking a closer look at some of the diversity that exists among coffee plants.
Let's start where it all began, with the vast biodiversity of coffee plants in East Africa.
Part of the reason we know East Africa to be the birthplace of coffee is the sheer number of distinct varieties present there. (While Ethiopia has long been figured to be the true origin, it's starting to look more likely that what we now know as eastern Sudan is likely the true genesis spot, but border history and land disputes being what they are, we'll just say coffee is indigenous to the general region and leave it at that for now.)
While thousands of coffee varieties grow throughout East Africa, the coffee community as a whole knows relatively little about them. Until recently, not much research or catalog work has gone on in the field of coffee types, and because many different plants here grow wild in forests, the task is seemingly insurmountable. To further the confusion, most coffee strains here are called by the name of their locality, so coffee grown around Yirgacheffe becomes "Yirgacheffe type," while coffees near Jimma are "Jimma type," near Sidama are "Sidama type," and so on. Which means that one variety might have many different names, depending on where it's grown, or varieties called the same thing might be distinct from one another.
While scientists are still picking apart and putting back together the mysterious pieces of the puzzle that African coffees comprise, there are certain things we do know about them—like what some of them look and taste like.

Long, finger-like leaves are classic to Ethiopian varieties. [Photograph: JUST COFFEE COOPERATIVE on Flickr]
Washed coffees from Yirgacheffe create some of the most delicate, floral brews on earth. They tend to have a heady jasmine aroma, lemongrassy brightness, and a super soft mouthfeel. Most people remark that the finished beverage is almost not like coffee at all, but rather like drinking a very elegant tea.
Most coffees from Harar are processed in the "natural" style, which means their fruit is allowed to dry completely around the coffee bean before being removed. (In a "washed' process, the fruit is removed within 12–24 hours after harvest.) The additional time left in the cherry provides the coffee with an intensely deep, fruity flavor that is most often described as blueberry, and there are also typically a lot of sweet yeasty and rich chocolatey notes present as well.
Unfortunately, due to the limited nature of the naming conventions, it's hard to know precisely how one "Yirgacheffe type" varies from another. Guess we'll just have to drink every one of them we can get our hands on to find out. Boo hoo for us!
Want to taste? A good place to start would be with Stumptown Coffee Roasters' Chelbessa, a lovely and floral washed coffee from Yirgacheffe that has all the classic notes: jasmine, honey, tea, delicious. $16.50 for 12 ounces.
About the author: Erin Meister trains baristas and inspires coffee-driven people for Counter Culture Coffee. She's a confident barista, an audacious eater, and a smiling runner, but she remains a Nervous Cook.

Puttanesca Sauce [Photograph: Joshua Bousel]

Pizza with Fresh Clams [Photograph: J. Kenji Lopez-Alt]

Green Salad with Pickled Mushrooms, Cucumbers, Onions, and Pecorino [Photograph: J. Kenji Lopez-Alt]

Whole Wheat Oatmeal Pancakes with Maple Roast Rhubarb [Photograph: Anna Markow]

Triple Chocolate Layer Cake [Photograph: @sstiavetti]
Grilled Peach Whiskey Sour [Photograph: Heather Meldrom]

The Broccoli at No. 7 Sub, NYC [Photograph: Andrea Kang]

The Pica Rico burger at Gallo Blanco [Photograph: Erin Jackson]

Dainty appetizers, called Mieng Kum, at Uncle Boons, NYC [Photograph: J. Kenji Lopez-Alt]

The new "Couronne" at Dominique Ansel Bakery, NYC [Photograph: Niko Triantafillou]
The Glass Case of Emotion at Portland's Double Dragon [Photograph: Katie Burnett]

Naeng Myun at Hanjoo, NYC [Photograph: Max Falkowitz]
Editor's note: Each Saturday afternoon
we bring you a Sunday Supper
recipe. Why on Saturday? So you have time to shop and prepare for
tomorrow.

Heartier than your average gazpacho, this riff on a Tyler Florence recipe benefits from grilled paprika shrimp and garlic croutons. [Photograph: Jennifer Olvera]
Nothing beats a good gazpacho on a hot summer's night. After all, it's easy to make, full of flavor, and downright refreshing when done right. Something that it's not? Hearty.
One of my favorite versions comes from Tyler Florence. Sporting a spot-on flavor profile, I either make it straight-up or use it as a springboard when doing my own thing. I've cut down on the olive oil and limited the bread that gets blended in. It makes for a lighter, brighter soup.
Plus, it makes me feel less guilty about what comes next: skewers of smoky, pimenton-marinated shrimp, skewered with cubes of garlic bread. Just grill them, pluck the tails off, and plop the shrimp, garlicky grilled croutons, and toppings of your choice into the soup for a much more filling—but no less summery—meal.
Remember that the shrimp need but a moment to grill. The soup, on the other hand, benefits from a few hours in the fridge. Eat it right away, and the flavor falls flat.
Gazpacho with Grilled Paprika Shrimp and Garlic Croutons »
About the author: Jennifer Olvera is a veteran food and travel writer and author of "Food Lovers' Guide to Chicago." Follow her on Twitter @olverajennifer.
Get the Recipe!Editor's note: Each Saturday morning we
bring you a Sunday
Brunch recipe. Why on Saturday? So you have time to shop and
prepare for tomorrow.
This breakfast mash up takes basic skillet potatoes to the next level with some gooey soft-cooked eggs and melted cheese. Shredded cheddar gets tossed with the potatoes and onions and toasts along the bottom of the skillet, giving you plenty of golden brown cheese reminiscent of a crispy-edged grilled cheese that's oozed out onto the pan. Needless to say, if you're feeling a bit tender from last night's festivities, this will go a long way toward setting you straight.
Feel free to throw other things into this basic hash—chopped peppers, Brussels sprouts, or even spinach make great additions. And don't even get me started on bacon and sausage. Dot with hot sauce and some fresh sliced scallions, and brunch is on the table in about half an hour.
Soft-Cooked Eggs on Cheesy Skillet Hash »
About the author: Sydney Oland lives in Somerville, Mass. Find more information at sydneyoland.com (or read eatingnosetotail.com)
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The subject of heated debate [Photograph: Robyn Lee]
Last week, The Atlantic published a series of fascinating food dialect maps tracing pronunciation patterns across the country. Words like "crawfish," "mayonnaise," "grocery" and more are the subject of heated regional debate, along with title battles: soda vs. pop, frosting vs. icing, etc.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, the maps sparked a firestorm of debate amongst SE staffers, who hail from all over the country. The following is the unedited transcript of our email thread, in which geographic insults were lobbied, turfs were defended, and poor Boston got the short end of the stick.
Maggie Hoffman (origin: West Coast): Could this be a good end of day open thread?
J. Kenji Lopez-Alt (origin: East Coast): People from Maine say "melk" instead of milk. That's weird.
Max Falkowitz (origin: East Coast): Maine and the Midwest and inexplicably Robyn.
Niki Achitoff-Gray (origin: East Coast): Apparently I say "water" funny? "Wuhtur" instead of, well, "water."
Jamie Feldmar (origin: Midwest): I would like to state for the record that I DO NOT say "melk."
Carrie Vasios (origin: East Coast): I'm surprised they didn't include this one...I say AH-range, not OR-ange.
Niki Achitoff-Gray: Oh yes yes Max and I were talking about that one. Ahrange and Flahrida.
J. Kenji Lopez-Alt: Oh, in Boston they say pronounce scallop skah-lop and marinade marin-ahd.
Niki Achitoff-Gray: Does Boston even count? It's the linguistic funhouse mirror of America.
J. Kenji Lopez-Alt: Whatever, Mrs. New Yawker.
Burn! Kenji and Niki have since made up, though the city of Boston continues to smart. Let's hear it from you: how do you say some of these words?

1. What's in a Letter? Chefs and Restaurants Speak Out About the Department of Health's Letter Grades 2. Streets of Swine: The Big Apple Barbecue Block Party 2013 3. Uncle Boons: Traditional Thai Gets a Soho Spin 4. Of Course Shopsins Makes Great Onion Rings 5. Red Sauce Summer, 10 Years Later: Park Side and the Lemon Ice King of Corona 6. First Look: The Fourth, New American in Union Square 7. What's Happening at SmorgasBar in the South Street Seaport 8. Karczma: Polish Comfort Food with a Side of Shtick 9. Ask the Critic: Where to Eat Lunch in Soho, Best Italian Combos 10. Serious Eats Neighborhood Guides: Del Posto Chef Tony Scotto's Carroll Gardens

[ Photographs: Joshua Bousel ]
My insatiable appetite for all things spicy finds me digging into pepper-infused Thai cuisine on a regular basis. Unfortunately, save for a handful of restaurants, most don't deliver on the true heat I'm seeking, forcing me to settle on dishes that merely tingle the tongue, not set it aflame. I have found one dish though that seems to have more consistency in intense heat that has become my go-to at most places I dine—crispy duck salad.
Beyond the spice, there's so much to love about this—a salty lime dressing, fresh cilantro, sharp red onions, toasted cashews, sweet pineapple, and the always amazing crispy duck. This is a salad of the highest order.
I took to the flames to make a facsimile at home, and hit all the notes decently. My only issue was the grill couldn't deliver the "crispy" part of the duck as well as pan frying, but the lightly smoky, medium-rare duck breasts with a soft layer of tasty fat was delicious never-the-less, and I was one content eater, lost in the intoxicating juxtaposition of flavors with the bonus of an extra kick of heat I was able to tailor to my own taste.
About the author: Joshua Bousel brings you new, tasty condiment each Wednesday and a recipe for weekend grilling every Friday. He also writes about grilling and barbecue on his blog The Meatwave whenever he can be pulled away from his grill.
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[Photograph: Maria del Mar Sacasa]
If ever there was a match made in supermarket aisle heaven, it's Nilla Wafers and bananas. They're best known for their masterpiece duet entitled Banana Pudding, but have you ever thought to put them in a cake?
The cake gets a moist crumb from mashed up bananas and buttermilk, and obviously ground up Nilla Wafers are in there too. Tying it all together? A sweet and tangy brown sugar cream cheese icing.


Boliche, the dish featured on "Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives:" an eye round steak stuffed with chorizo and topped with shredded pork shoulder. [Photographs: Jamie Feldmar]
When most people think of Cuban food in Florida, they think Miami, and understandably so. With 24 of the top 25 Cuban communities in the country situated in Miami limits, the Magic City has more than its fair share of criollo joints. But my grandparents don't live in Miami; they live farther north on the Gulf Coast, so that's where most of my Floridian jaunts are centered. And to my pleasant surprise, I discovered on a recent visit that even a little town like Bradenton has at least one great source for lechon asado.
Crammed in to a narrow storefront on an unglamorous stretch of Cortez Road, Jose's Real Cuban Food has a classic mom-and-pop luncheonette feel: a pixelated shot of owner Jose Baserva on the sign outside, no A/C, and a menu of homestyle Cuban classics from Baserva's family (they emigrated from Cuba to Miami in 1959, when he was one).

Epic Cuban.
Jose's Real Cuban is no-frills, but it isn't exactly undiscovered: a few years ago, the restaurant was featured on Guy Fieri's "Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives," and the place is consistently packed. One of the more popular offerings is the pressed Cuban Sandwich ($7.95), filled with thick slices of ham and Jose's signature lechon, or roasted pork shoulder, which he cooks at 500 degrees for five hours with a mojo marinade. The "hot and fast" method could easily backfire, but Jose's lechon is fork-tender and kicky with garlic, so I won't question it. The thin housemade salsa that comes with the sandwich, made with tomato, garlic, jalapeno, and vinegar, helps keep what could easily be a gutbomb of a meal feeling (relatively) light.

From left to right: lechon, piccadillo, and ropa vieja, with a plantain.
The gutbomb comes later, with the arrival of the Taste of Cuba combo platter ($13.95), featuring small mountains of lechon, piccadillo (ground beef in tomato sauce), and ropa vieja (shredded brisket in tomato sauce) on a bed of rice with sides of black beans, yucca, and plantains. The savory piccadillo, studded with bits of hard boiled egg and green olives, was my favorite, though the ropa vieja (literally "old clothes"), one of Cuba's national dishes, was a rich, satisfying second.

Gulf shrimp.
Bradenton has an active fishing community, so it's not all meat and beans on Jose's menu. Anglers can bring their fresh catches to Jose's to cook; the final product depends on his mood. On the day I was there, the cooks were running a fresh Shrimp Jose (market price) special with spinach, onions, peppers, and jalapeno sauteed in a garlic butter sauce; the vibrant platter was a pleasant change of pace from all the pork.

To finish: a jiggly Flan ($3.25), made with eggs, cream, milk, and sweetened condensed milk, and laced heavily with cinnamon. Dense, Jello-y flan is one of the fastest ways to gross me out, but this was light and creamy, and the fact that I ate even half of it is a testament to its texture.
I'm not Cuban, and I won't claim to be an expert in the cuisine. But eating at Jose's made me feel right at home.
8799 Cortez Road West, Bradenton, FL 34210 (map) 941-795-4898
About the author: Jamie Feldmar is a noodle aficionado, barbecue lover, and the managing editor of Serious Eats. You can follow her on Twitter at @jfeldmar.
But wait, there's more! Follow Serious Eats on Facebook, Twitter and Pintrest!

[Photographs: Niko Triantafillou]
The fancy pants Upper West Side restaurant Dovetail has always had a fantastic dessert program. The original pastry chef, Vera Tong, who now owns Park Slope's Du Jour Bakery, often featured interesting takes on classic desserts that left a lasting impression on me.
Michal Shelkowitz, who took over in 2010 has continued to build the program and take it in new and exciting directions. As recognition of her work she received an invite to compete at the 2012 Star Chefs International Pastry Competition in New York.
Shelkowitz says she enjoys Dovetail's focus on local produce, as it fits with her tendency to mix savory and sweet components in classic desserts like carrot cake. The beet red velvet cake ($14) exemplifies this style. Local baby beets (provided by Dovetail's forager) are used to give the cake its deep red texture and also to bring a bit of vegetable flavor into the dessert. Shelkowitz said she tried nearly ten different recipes with varying amounts of beet, beet purée and other ingredients. Her work has paid off: the cake is pleasingly moist.
For every unusual savory component in the cake, there's a more traditional sweet ingredient that keeps things grounded, such as the sour cream frosting between the red cake layers. The colorful and crunchy housemade beet chips provide a beautiful garnish and additional texture, while tart drops of beet purée are balanced by dabs of classic milk chocolate ganache. These are evening distributed around the plate along with a small amount of tapioca powder.
When Dovetail's forager brought in some great local strawberries, they were added to the dish along with freshly spun strawberry ice cream.

Although the beet red velvet was my favorite overall dessert of the evening, the single best dessert component was the salted caramel mousse from the dessert of the same name ($14). The caramel flavor is incredibly strong, almost burnt. On top of the mousse is a tiny creme brûlée-like layer of caramelized sugar—the perfect compliment to the silky mousse.
About the author: Native New Yorker Niko Triantafillou is the founder of DessertBuzz.com. You can follow him on Twitter at @DessertBuzz.
VIEW SLIDESHOW: Market Scene: Mercado San Juan in Morelia, Mexico
[Photographs: Naomi Bishop]
The hard cement walls of the 20th-century building enveloping the Mercado San Juan hardly evoke the market's half-millennium of history. It feels a little disingenuous, a little false in its newness; disconnected from the centuries of trade, the cornucopia of tropical fruits, high-altitude vegetables, and tiny white fish traditional to the state of Michoacán. Situated in the heart of Morelia, Mexico, the unremarkable façade is an alien representative of the location, which has hosted a market in one form or another since pre-Hispanic times.
But once inside, facing down rows of indigenous pottery, staring at stacks of hand-folded corundas and uchepos (local types of vaguely tamale-like sweet corn snacks), the newness gives way to tradition. There are larger markets in town—ones with better facilities, fancier handicrafts, or specialty cheese stands—but at Mercado San Juan, the fruits and vegetables are largely local and seasonal, the sundries often homemade. The honey was drawn straight from the hive and the pineapple vinegar is sold in recycled Coke bottles with the labels torn off.
The ingredients for sale at the market are the building blocks of the foods you see on the streets of Morelia: brightly colored guavas, pitayas, and tiny plums that will turn up in gaspacho de frutas (local fruit salad, topped with cheese and hot sauce); honey and sugar that will end up in the multitude of sweets for which the town is famous; and sweet corn, in varieties ranging from kernel to leaf, and even in fungus form.
About the author: Naomi Bishop is a Seattle based food and travel writer. Find her wandering through words and worlds on her blog, TheGastroGnome, where she claims that being a GastroGnome is not about sitting idly on the front lawn of culinary cottages. Follow her explorations of cooking and culture around the world at @GastroGnome. Get restaurant suggestions and locate local eats in the Northwest from her app, Unique Eats of the Northwest.
[Photographs: Carrie Vasios]
On a recent stroll through the cookie aisle of the supermarket, I noticed not one but two new cinnamon flavored cookies. Joy! They each took a very different approach—one simple and classic and the other novel and...mall-tastic—so I grabbed both to give them a try.
Sometimes the more simple or the more classic a recipe is, the harder it is to achieve a good mass produced version. When I saw that Pepperidge Farm had introduced a Soft Baked Snickerdoodle I had two thoughts: 1. Sigh. All snickerdoodles should be soft!* 2. Chances are this is going to taste like a bland vanilla sugar cookie.
*I realize that the soft versus crunchy snickerdoodle debate is one that has no winner. In this instance, I just prefer a soft cookie. I think it better highlights the lightly crunchy exterior.
But let's start with the basic premise: the whole point of a snickerdoodle is that it's a sugar cookie rolled in cinnamon sugar. It's not just a sugar cookie with cinnamon. It's sweet and vanilla-y on the inside, with the light crunch and punch of cinnamon-sugar on the outside.
To my surprise, the PR cookies are actually soft with a bit of pleasant chew. And they are indeed rolled in cinnamon sugar—visible, touchable, tastable cinnamon sugar. The coating tastes like a cross between Cinnamon Toast Crunch and a cinnamon sugar doughnut; which is to say, pretty cinnamon-y. And while I did just reference a breakfast cereal, the cinnamon errs on the side of authenticity. Plenty of cinnamon sweets taste like artificial cinnamon extract or Big Red Gum. Not these. The package says they're "sweet and simple cookies" and, to my surprise, they are.
I decided to taste these two new cookies back to back, which, as soon as I found success with the snickerdoodle, seemed like a colossal mistake. I was chasing a "real cinnamon" cookie with a cookie that was clearly going to taste anything but. The new Keebler cookie is "a soft swirl cookie with Cinnabon® cinnamon, drizzled with cream cheese flavored icing." Cinnabon is great, but "real cinnamon" it's not. This cookie was hoping to be a more mass produced version of an already mass produced product. Quite a way to start.
And yeah, my first taste made me think I had just bit into a Yankee candle: too sweet, too much fake cinnamon. Then I noticed a little note on the package: "Tastes great warmed up!" Remembering how much I like Soft Batch Chips Ahoy in the microwave, I decided to give it a go. It took me 15 seconds, which is more than the 6-9 suggested, but the cookies significantly improved. Heated, the middle cinnamon swirl becomes a little gooey and the icing softens. The sweetness doesn't mellow so much as unify with the cinnamon, and it really tastes like a Cinnabon. Which, needless to say, is awesome.
My only qualm is that the entire structure of the cookie softens and becomes prone to falling apart. But really, who cares, because I was already shoving it in my mouth.
What we have here is a good day for the union of supermarket sweets and cinnamon. Any others out there that I should try?
[Photograph: Nick Kindelsperger]
Great news for barbecue fanatics in Chicago: After a fire caused significant damages back in May, Lillie's Q finally reopened last night in Bucktown. The fire was caused by a faulty hot water heater, and at the time it was unclear whether the restaurant was going to be able to reopen in the space. While terrible news for any restaurant, this was especially distressing to me, because this left a serious pulled pork and tri-tip hole in Chicago's barbecue scene. But in an email sent out yesterday, chef Charlie McKenna thanked Chicago for its "true Southern hospitality," and declared that Lillie's Q was back open for business. I can't think of a better place for lunch today.
Starting today, Lillie's Q will resume normal business hours, opening at 11 a.m. daily. It will close at 10 p.m. Sunday through Thursday, and 11 p.m. on Friday and Sunday.
1856 West North Avenue, Chicago, IL 60622 (map) 773-772-5500 lilliesq.com
It's hard to imagine a time that I didn't know about Nutella. But, I only discovered it since I started this blog in 2006. In the spirit of making up for lost time, I do use it frequently in baking. And, honestly, it gets used up with a spoon directly in the jar, too.
I went through the archives here at BoB and found some of my favorite recipes that feature Nutella. If you're a Nutella fan, too, then go ahead and check that you have some in your pantry. You're going to want to do some baking!

[Photographs: J. Kenji Lopez-Alt]
Putting together a great salad is not quite as simple as starting with quality fresh greens and vegetables and dressing them, but it is a very good start. The rest lies in making sure that you offer enough textural and flavor contrast that the salad doesn't get pushed to the side of the table as an accompaniment—something boring to keep you occupied between bites of the main course. In that sense, when I plan a salad, I try and make sure that it's its own side dish, if you get what I mean.
The key to this salad is the pickled vegetables. It starts with chunkily-cut cucumbers and sliced onions pickled in a simple mix of equal parts vinegar and water with some sugar added. This makes for a nice, light pickle that's punchy and bright, but tame enough that you can eat it by the forkful without pursing your lips so hard you pull a muscle. I like to think of light pickles like that as vegetables that have their dressing already built in.
Next, I added some hon-shimeji mushrooms to the same liquid. Mushrooms, with their great absorbency, make for awesome pickles. They suck up flavor like a sponge and release it just as easily. Their soft-but-firm texture is also nice agains the ultra-crunchy cukes.
For freshness and a burst of sweetness, I went with snap peas, simply blanched in salted water. They're super sweet this time of year, and unlike, say, English peas or asparagus, they tend to keep their sweetness for several days after being picked. They're one of the most forgiving fresh spring vegetables I know.
With all that great pickling liquid, the dressing for the rest of the salad—some nice red oak lettuce that Jamie picked up from the Union Square Greenmarket—is easy. Pickling liquid, along with a bit of mustard and good extra virgin olive oil.
I always like to have some sort of salty burst in my salad—something to really whack your mouth in the...mouth (I guess)—and that burst is often cheese. In this case, an extra-sharp aged Pecorino that's crumbled fine enough that every bite oughta get a burst or two.
You'll probably want to serve this salad with other food, but you don't need to. It's got a personality of its own.
Green Salad with Pickled Mushrooms, Cucumbers, Onions, and Pecorino »
About the author: J. Kenji Lopez-Alt is the Chief Creative Officer of Serious Eats where he likes to explore the science of home cooking in his weekly column The Food Lab. You can follow him at @thefoodlab on Twitter, or at The Food Lab on Facebook.
Get the Recipe!
[Illustration: Robyn Lee]
On this week's Ask the Critic, Carey recommended Soho lunch spots and named her favorite giant Italian heroes in Manhattan.
Have a question of your own you want answered? Email carey@seriouseats.com with the subject line Ask the Critic to submit your question. All emails will be read, but unfortunately not all can be answered. We look forward to hearing from you!

Dustin Wilson [Photo: Samuel Goldwyn Films]
I love movies that let you peek inside a subculture that you might not be able to access otherwise: Word Wars, which follows competitive Scrabble players, and Spellbound, which featured the kids vying to win the Scripps National Spelling Bee, are two that come to mind. I'd say that SOMM, which opens in theaters in New York, Chicago, San Francisco, LA, and Seattle over the next week, and will be available on iTunes on June 21st, has more in common with these movies than wine documentaries like Mondovino or flicks like Sideways.
SOMM follows four sommeliers as they prepare for the highest exam offered by the Court of Master Sommeliers, an exam that only around 200 people have passed worldwide. It's a buddy movie of sorts: there's the funny jock, Brian McClintic, and the serious Dustin Wilson (whose gleaming head you might have spotted at Eleven Madison Park in NYC, where he's wine director). There's fearless DLynn Proctor, and intense Ian Cauble, whose obsessive studying is enough to make anyone nervous. These close friends are going through something intense together, and you get to know (and like) them as they try to ascend to the top of their field. In SOMM, you get to see these experts at their toughest and also their most vulnerable.

From left: Brian McClintic, Ian Cauble, and Dustin Wilson. [Photo: Samuel Goldwyn Films]
SOMM is sharply filmed and produced—it balances funny moments with serious ones as the group prepares for the big exam, and the soundtrack is more like the music from a movie about sports competitors than wine drinkers. (There's nothing worse than a cheesy wine movie soundtrack, I gotta say.) This isn't the kind of wine movie that lingers on dew drops in the vineyards, and you won't be watching drinkers wax poetic about terroir. Instead, the pressure builds as our four protagonists study and sacrifice, worrying and teasing each other as they approach the day of reckoning. They trace maps to try to tie bits of trivia to a location, and they collect towers of flashcards, testing each other over Skype after work each night...beginning at midnight. There's no question that Brian, DLynn, Dustin, and Ian are committed, but as you watch the film, you may wonder why.
If there's one weakness to SOMM, it's that, for an outsider, it might not be clear why taking the Master Sommelier exam is worth all of the hours, the training, and the sacrifice. Perhaps if it were a movie about four guys obsessively training to hike Mt. Everest, you might not look for motivation. They climb the mountain because it is there. But while the film spends a brief moment discussing job opportunities that arise for the few who pass this excruciating exam, the principals don't really discuss what got them on the path to the wine, why they chose to pursue each level of sommelier certification with the Court, and how they think they're benefiting from the knowledge they gain at the highest level. Does the exam truly make them better sommeliers? Does knowing every village in every region—and the wine laws in every village and every region—help share a love of wine with customers?
While those questions remain somewhat unanswered, the film does get us wrapped up in the people it portrays. It's easy to feel their stress—and their relief when the process is over. SOMM isn't a film that will teach you about wine, and it doesn't want to be. It won't stop to explain what tannin is, or how the somms go about figuring out what an unidentified wine is based on its color, scent, or structure. The pace of the scenes may move too swiftly for anyone who isn't pretty comfortable with wine vocabulary, but on the other hand, the point is these competitors are moving swiftly, memorizing huge catalogs of data, and working precisely, deductively, and speedily in timed wine-identification tests.
Who is SOMM for? If, like me, you're interested in subcultures in general, you might enjoy this film. You might relate to it if you went to medical school or took oral exams for a masters degree, but you're most likely to love it if you're a passionate wine drinker, interested in the study of wine, or a member of the restaurant or wine industry. If you're considering sommelier certification at any level, it's a must-watch. Curious? Check out the trailer below.
About the Author: Maggie Hoffman is the editor of Serious Eats: Drinks. She lives in San Francisco. You can follow her on Twitter @maggiejane.

[Photograph: Nick Kindelsperger]
My last visit to Little Three Happiness was—how shall I say—underwhelming. This classic Chinatown restaurant may have originally inspired LTHForum's name, but most of the dishes I tried were greasy and bland. One, the crispy skin chicken, was still raw in the middle. But there was one notable exception, a dish so good it made my list of the best dishes in Chinatown (non-Tony Hu edition): the salt and pepper shrimp ($6.95).
I've tried my fair share of fried shell-on shrimp, but all I ever ended up with were impenetrable pieces of shell logged in the back of my throat. But if done right, like the version served here, the shells transform into an extra crunchy casing, which shatter dramatically when you bite in. The shells also help keep the shrimp extra juicy and sweet. I might not like much else here, but I'll be back for this one stunner.
209 West Cermak Road, Chicago, IL 60616 (map) 312-842-1964
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