Brunch Musings

By Andrew Kohn

I'm in love with brunch - that is, every other day except the traditional Sunday feast. Why must I wait until 2:00 to eat? And who ever thought it was a good idea to drink juiced-down cheap champagne instead of a heartier, potentially infused, vodka drink? I'm over it! Simply put, brunch is breakfast for lunch. Don't get me wrong; this is a meal plan I can believe in! I'm also a huge advocate of breakfast for dinner. But why do we limit this culinary event to once a week? Every human being I've ever met - yes, all of them - loves breakfast food at any time of day. (And usually more for lunch or dinner that for their actual breakfast.)

Brunch is an excuse for weak people to eat foods they really crave at the time most socially acceptable to their peers. I'm here to tell you that it's ok to eat omelets for dinner. It's ok to put poached eggs on your dinner salad. And it's perfectly acceptable to use your waffle iron on a Wednesday afternoon. It won't blow up. Join me as I celebrate freedom from traditional food roles. Breathe deeply, grab your whisk, and show that Large Brown Cage-free Omega-3 doped egg who's the boss.

Here is a "brunch" recipe from our friends at Bon Appetit magazine. If you follow it word for word, it's probably wonderful. With a few slight modifications, it becomes delicious! This sausage, roasted red pepper, and spinach torta rustica works well with vegetarian sausage (my hands were tied because of a guest) and with any commonsense cheese substitute. The baguette transforms into a quasi-French toast - a quality I'm eager to explore further on my next go-around. Cook it up tonight and enjoy! The brotherhood of breakfast lovers fully supports you and your brave decision.

The Five Paragraph Bitter Food Critic is Scared Amongst the Bargains

A decade ago, I dated a woman who worked as a grocery store consultant. She specialized in creating traffic flow through product layout and visual displays. I practically grew up in the grocery store my grandmother owned south of Annapolis, stocking the shelves for pocket money as a child, and managing inventory and the finances as an adult when her health faded. I thought I knew a lot about the grocery business, but I got a crash course in Grocery Store 101 from this consultant. Ever notice how the produce section uses lots of wood paneling and angled shelves? That's to give the customer the idea that the fruits and vegetables are "fresh from the farm," like they had been packed and shipped that very day. Colorful apples and oranges always get a prime location because they're eye-catching, while the lowly brown potato is regulated to back-of-the-aisle status. The meat section is the same way - higher-priced red meat is displayed prominently in front near the butcher's department, while lower-priced and less-colorful chicken is placed down the row 20 feet away. Seafood often gets its own corner section, as the mark-up on fresh fish and local crab meat is too much of a profit driver to just place haphazardly in the store. These little Jedi mind tricks are part of the subtle ways grocery chains subliminally herd you through the store. The consultant stressed the importance of initial visual impact - to make the store look appealing as soon as you walk in the door. High-end retailers like Harris-Teeter and Wegmans show either their incredibly sumptuous prepared-foods section or their diverse produce section right up front. Whole Foods and Trader Joe's can lead off with their wholesome baked goods or some special exotic food. Lots of new and refurbished Giants and Safeways entice customers with Starbucks locations as you enter. Newer locations of Shoppers like to start off with a large, colorful display of deeply-discounted products, thus proving to their value to the customer.

Then, there's Bottom Dollar Food. They don't have time for all that noise. They just leave a big ole' mess of cardboard right up front. See, Bottom Dollar is all about saving the consumer as much money as possible, so you can either pay a couple of cents for grocery bags, or use the free cardboard boxes. Sturdy boxes used to ship bottled water go quickly, while the small squares used to transport salt shakers are left to wallow. Some of the Bottom Dollar faithful bring their own. Either way, the boxes come in handy to haul away some pretty good deals. Prices are generally quite low - 2 liters of soda are half the price than the neighboring Giant. Fresh meats are about 15% per pound cheaper than their competitors. Produce is about 20% cheaper than the nearby Safeway.

Bottom Dollar is part of the Food Lion family, just like Bloom, which I reviewed in 2007. Unlike Bloom, Bottom Dollar doesn't try to hide its association with the parent company. They proudly sell Food Lion products as the generic options to the big brand names. Also, they don't have near the product diversity or the dutifully restocked shelves like Bloom. It's somewhat strange to see relatively thin inventories in an American grocery store, but that's the case at Bottom Dollar. You won't feel crowded or overwhelmed by the selection. Still, I got a large box of Honey Comb for $2.56 and a pound of frozen Alaskan pollack for $1.99 - about 33% cheaper than other stores.

However, I doubt I'll make regular trips to Bottom Dollar, and it has nothing to do with the products or the prices. It's the attitude. It breeds weirdness. The store is somewhat overly-lit, and their love of day-glo orange and green paint conjures up memories of the washed-out 1970s, and not the fun, coked-out 1970s, either, but of ugly station wagons with wood paneling. There's no background music playing, either - at least, not in any of my trips there so far - and there's something eerie about an almost silent grocery store. It's like the Centralia of shopping.

And, much like the few folks who remain in Centralia, frankly, the natives freak me out. This weekend, a married couple shopped with a Nextel dangling from a lanyard around the wife's neck, pulling double duty as a necklace and a phone. Their conversation with an offspring echoed and chirped throughout the frozen food aisle. And, while I'm thinking of it ...

Hey, Sprint, you want to know why you're taking a beating in the cell phone market? Because you purchased Nextel - THE MOST OBNOXIOUS CELL PHONE EVER! Nextels were cool for like a hot minute in 2000. Those "What if...?" commercials where firefighters run Congress and the delivery people run schools with their Nextels are only slightly less annoying than the new Comcast commercials with the weird monotone singing, bad acid flashback graphics and "The Sims"-like background. And, while I'm thinking of it - Hey, Comcast, I'm glad to see the outrageous amount of money I paid for basic digital cable and internet access for three years went to a good cause, like making THE MOST OBNOXIOUS CABLE COMMERCIAL EVER. I am now a proud FiOS customer, and I pay a lot less to have HD channels *included*, better channel selection, plus much faster internet access, and a lot more reliable service. For the record, the FiOS Guy/Cable Guy commercials are kind of funny. Learn from them, Comcast. Entertain potential customers, not make them think they drank tainted Flavor-Aid.

...sorry, I blacked out there for a second. Anyway, another customer, a man in his mid-50s, I suppose, was buying individual servings of frozen yogurt. Nothing odd about that normally, except this man was buying *A LOT* of yogurt. Like, an entire shelf of it. Like, even Jamie Lee Curtis couldn't eat that much yogurt. I estimated about 50 cups in his grocery cart as I walked past, and I watched him pull another 30 or so cups before the Nextel-couple asked him what he was going to do with all that yogurt. His reply was hardly as sinister as I hoped - "it's good for you!" - and yes, indeed he did intend to eat all that yogurt. The Nextel husband commented later to me in the checkout line that this stuff happens all the time at "Bottom Loser." Much like The Replacements, ironically, I can't hardly wait.

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Bottom Dollar Foods gets 20 Whammies! out of a possible 25. I saved nearly 25% on my grocery bill at Bottom Dollar as opposed to similar trips to Safeway or Harris Teeter. However, I subtracted 2 Whammies! for the freaky Nextel couple, 1 Whammy! for the freaky yogurt guy, and two Whammies! for making me forage through the cardboard box dump to cart off my purchases. Shoppers used to do the same thing until they realized how ghetto that made them look. Take heed, Bottom Dollar...but, man, I do love cheap Honey Comb.
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Bottom Dollar Foods
13 locations between Frederick and Fredericksburg.

Stir the Gumbo!

By my good friend, Guest Blogger Wayne Manigo AKA Wayneman. Wayne is on the left in the photo.

There are some musicians that make history by being masters at their craft. They might practice for hours each day, until they hit the pinnacle of success. Other may decide on combining other talents with their god given gift. Enter Bill Wharton (aka The Sauce Boss) and his band "The Ingredients." His unique style of playing the blues is combined by his love and desire for "Gumbo." "Uncle Bill" (I'm the only fan who calls him that) has a talent to make a gumbo that will "Knock your Aunt Connie's socks off!" This has been his signature style since 1990.

Once the Sauce Boss hits the stage, he's a magic man in motion. He's start by making the "holy trinity" of celery, onions, and green peppers for the "rue" on stage. As he continues to cook, the Sauce Boss will perform some of the finest blues in all the land. These are old school blues jams inspired by the likes of Robert Johnson, Duane Allman, Muddy Waters, and ZZ Top. As the band plays the blues into the wee hours, the Sauce Boss demands audience participation by inviting everyone to come onstage and "Stir the gumbo!" At the end of the night...the entire audience eats gumbo for free!

The first time I met "Uncle Bill" was nine years ago in his hometown of Tallahassee. I walked into this establishment named Bullwinkle's, which was voted best college bar by Playboy magazine. I couldn't believe what my senses were telling me! Was that the smell of gumbo coming from their Tikki bar? And who's that crazy guy with the chef's outfit playing the guitar?" By the end of the evening, I was dancing, singing, and sweating like I've never done before. Once the set is complete, "Uncle Bill" served this fabulous gumbo to the masses - free of charge.

I became a fan of "Bill Wharton and the Ingredients" on the spot! The Sauce Boss is so well known for his gumbo that it inspired Mr. Jimmy Buffet to pen the tune "I Will Play For Gumbo." He's been mentioned in the "Lee's Brother's Southern Cookbook" and they stated "When he comes to your town, you don't want to miss this blues and gumbo combination. "Uncle Bill" provides the Sauce Boss Gumbo Recipe for is gumbo on his website, so you can duplicate it at home. I make it each year at my annual pot luck prior to attending his annual concert at Madam's Organ.

It would be a crime not to mention the charity work the 'Sauce Boss' has done with his nonprofit organization " Planet Gumbo." This non-profit was created by Bill Wharton in Nov 2002 to help everyone understand the trials and tribulations of the homeless. His band continues to perform benefit concerts each year to raise money and awareness. By the end of time, The Sauce Boss would have spread his message for love, happiness, and helping other using gumbo and the blues. Let's eat!

Bill Wharton is playing at Madam's Organ at 9pm tomorrow (4/14).

Never Eat Next to Med School Students

The crew at DCist.com do a feature called "Overheard in DC" in which snippets of conversation are presented with minimal context - typically somebody talking a bit too loud on a cell phone at an area grocery store, or two folks sharing a wee bit too much information on the Metro. It's a great feature, and if you can't get enough of DCist's offerings, check out EavesdropDC.

If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, and probably the laziest, then we at DCFud could launch a similar feature focusing simply on restaurants and people eating in public. It never ceases to amaze me what people will say in public, scant inches from perfect strangers.

I had the joy of sitting next to a couple of medical school students in Baltimore, and while I certainly would like the best trained, most highly educated doctors available, I'm not enthralled with the idea of eating next to them when discussing various ailments and diseases. And...especially when they have visual aides. And...I dated a doctor several years ago, but recent enough that I remember a few things.

At a restaurant in Baltimore...mid-conversation
Female Med School Student: "It was a softball-sized hematoma above his left eye."

That's a blood collection from a broken artery. I was OK with that.

Moments later...
Male Med School Student: "We worked on the dissection of the posterior compartment."

That's generally known as the calf muscle. I'm OK with that too.

He continued...
Male Med School Student: "I was looking at the three muscles, and I know it's weird, but I got hungry for chicken."

Um, check?

What's the weirdest thing you've ever heard while dining?

Penance for cupcake raving...

Many people are sensitive to gluten, and I know I make them flinch when I rave about Hello Cupcake's Maya, a chocolate cupcake covered in silky dark chocolate frosting that leave's the lingering spicy taste of hot peppers on your tongue. Yum.

So, let's explore Lilit Cafe (its more of a deli, really) in Bethesda; its gluten free menu is located here.

To quote their website:

Gluten-Free Desserts sold at Lilit Café are specially created by an award winning Gluten-Free Bakery called the Sweet Sin Bakery. Gluten-Free Desserts made by Sweet Sin Bakery are specially created by Pastry Chef Renée D'souza, who herself is gluten-intolerant. Renée's love for desserts and her passion for making desserts combined to form the Sweet Sin Bakery in 2005." i do remember seeing a large Key Lime Tart that looked quite appealing."

They did seem to have a good variety of other gluten free packaged goods as well.

I do expect one of you gluten free connosoirs to report back to us (at dcfud.writers@dcfud.com), giving us the scoop on whether or not the the baked goods are tasty.

Lilit Café
7921 Old Georgetown Road,
Bethesda, MD 20814
(301) 654.5454

http://www.lilitcafe.com/gluten.htm

Sauce, Meat and Heat: The Buffalo Wing Holy Trinity - A search for the perfect wing.

By Guest Blogger Andrew Kohn.

Every great man needs a personal mission in life. Jason sailed the open seas looking for Greek drama. Fievel searched a new country in the hopes of finding his lost family - just one little mouse out to conquer the world. And Bill and Ted went through time in search of a better grade and, in the process, found themselves. These journeys weren't easy, but in the end, these men came out on top, better for the experience, true role models for future generations. My search, just as important, is to find the ultimate Buffalo wing.

I've come to one wonderful, unnerving, and momentous conclusion - the perfect wing is in the eye of the beholder. Over the past two weeks, I've eaten at six establishments known for their wings. Now, I know there are secret places throughout the region that produce incredible products; if, however, I want to find the best, I'll start with what "experts" have determined as such. This was only phase one of my journey - the initial landing in the New World - and to be sure, I will continue this quest until the day I die - either of old age or kidney failure.

The criterion is easy - who had the best sauce, meat, and heat. To be clear, I'm in search of the perfect Buffalo wing. I know there are wonderful restaurants that create delicious dishes with chicken wings in all sorts of awkward and beautiful scenarios. I met some of them head on. My prey, however, on this hunt are the red sauced, fiery hot, blue cheese dipping, Buffalo wings. That wonderful export from a town with very little else going for it - they are the perfect snack food, appetizer, or main event.

Just as Christopher Columbus had unknown sailors directing operations on the Nina, Pinta, or Santa Maria, I relied on my co-captains to help me stay on course. And just like those captains, history shall not remember their names but simply refer to them as Frat Boy and Gay - a martini drinker and a kegger; they represent all spectrums of my real America.

Without further ado, let's get to the ratings:

The first stop:
Uno Chicago Grill and Bar in Union Station. This was the base line. Also, a back up as Wingmasters in the cafeteria has closed down. These wings were traditional, not very meaty, and salty. Avoid the "Wowza" sauce unless you like a combination fruit leather/cocktail sauce concoction that is probably very popular somewhere other than the D.C. region. I drank a Sam Adams.

On to: Austin Grill in Gallery Place. These wings weren't traditional, covered in a dry rub and grilled. The meat was the best we've tasted thus far on our journey. But these weren't Buffalo wings. And, while I can appreciate a different wing when it owns its uniqueness, served with a hot chipotle mango sauce or something, you can't just give me ranch dressing! You played your hand with the ranch Austin Grill, attempting to walk the fine line between traditional and quirky. Dump the ranch and find a good sauce (and while you're at it, a new salsa recipe for your chips!) I drank a Shiner or two

Now the traditional: Hooters in Gallery Place. My initial question - when did women and families start eating at Hooters? It's a real downer on the atmosphere. And Frat Boy wasn't pleased either! These wings were breaded and covered in a "3 Mile Island" sauce. I hope the radiation from a nuclear meltdown is this bearable. These wings tasted like they were bad for you - a piece of fried chicken covered in hot sauce. And the vinegar hints were over-whelming. My final question - when did I start having to pay for blue cheese and celery? I drank more Sam Adams.

For the gay and gay-friendly: Nellies on U Street. These were breaded and had a lovely texture. They also tasted a tad buttery - not a bad thing, just unexpected. The breading was borderline mushy at times, but the sauce was nice and without a hint of salt. I drank a gin and tonic.

For the editors: Hard Times Café in College Park. These "original Texas" wings by description weren't Buffalo-like. The presentation was the best we'd seen and the chili powder sprinkled on top gave some nice extra heat. There was a distinct sourness to them that was considered welcomed by some and not so nice by others. They were big and meaty, but a little tough. I drank a Magic Hat.

And the winner: Buffalo Wild Wings in College Park. This is a national chain making its way into the region. From its window you can see the IKEA and its meatballs beckoning you like a siren - fight back I tell you! These wings were hot, juicy, and not a bit salty. There are fourteen flavors of sauce to chose from- "wild" is hot with a salty taste and "blazing" just ridiculous - stick with the traditional "hot" and you'll be in heaven. There are also thirty beers on tap. Leave it to a chain that specifically cooks Buffalo wings to create the best. I drank a New Castle and a Killians.

The results thus far, are not surprising. But now it's time to delve deeper into the Buffalo wing underbelly of D.C. and find those hidden gems that would make Anthony Bourdain stand up and take notice. Out of pure principle, we can't have a chain take the ultimate title so it's time grab a wet-nap and hit the streets once more...

I juice, therefore I am.

By Guest Blogger Andrew Kohn.

I have a confession to make and it's not a pretty one; I've fallen prey to the juicing craze. Once only reserved for the body-builder or new age hippie, juicing has now swept across America, picking up housewives in Salt Lake City, mixologists in New York City, and every Oprah watcher in-between. Isolated in my little kitchen, I thought I was immune to this tornado until the day I was re-gifted a juicer. No spinach, carrot, kale, or cranberry has been safe since.

But the real question is, why do I juice? Leafy greens produce about as much liquid as they look like they would, and you can only get so much out of a chunk of ginger. Sure, I could just use celery and cucumber, but I require flavor. Oprah's green juice recipe isn't too shabby, and if it's good enough for Oprah...but I also need some variation. And undoubtedly, there's some hidden team that produces the glass of juice to her majesty sans the mess that naturally follows a juicing session.

One problem is that doesn't keep for long. Some pulp will invariably make it into the glass. Let it stand for a few minutes and the strata begin to appear. The stages of juicing are revealed - the actual liquid, the fine sediment that successfully navigated through the sieve, and the foamy vegetable meringue that rests like whipped cream on top of the entire concoction. Stir that baby up and take a sip. Delicious. Don't stir it up - well, you're re-paid for your lazy attitude. I will admit there is nothing lazy, however, about my juicing. Freshly prepared every morning, it's not the smell of bacon that wakes up the house but the jarring buzz of parsley meeting a cruel fate.

You're mission, if you choose to accept, is to juice. The machines can be reasonable - instead of a morning $3.50 latte, buy the juicer and feed it some veggies. They're also staples at garage sales across the country - but don't let that deter you. Those people were quitters! And you're a winner! I bet you'll feel better and maybe even shed a few extra pounds in the process. Experiment with different flavors and compost the leftover vegetable pulp. Fresh juice has numerous health benefits , including an increase in metabolism and a preventative against cancer and heart disease.

I freely admit I've bought into the craze, sipped the proverbial carrot-ade, and wonder where I'll go next?! Hummus instead of mayonnaise? Gluten-free pumpkin seed toast instead of my English muffin? Carob chips instead of Hershey's! Now let's not get carried away. My bunker has been reinforced against those tornados and my pantry is fully stocked with provisions!

Do you know where to get some good juice in town? Please email a comment to dcfud.writers@gmail.com,and after a healthy inspection I'll report back!

Köttbullar and other observations

By Guest Blogger: Andrew Kohn

Much has been written about the now infamous Köttbullar, known to many as simply the IKEA Swedish meatball. Both chewy and light, these little balls are smothered in a brown cream sauce and served with potatoes and a generous glop of lingonberry preserves. Loved by many, hated by some, these meatballs are frozen and can be purchased at the College Park IKEA in Maryland - a classier option than sneaking in Tupperware and packing them up from the very American high school-like cafeteria located on the second floor. For those of you with the true Swedish spirit, however, pop in a CD by The Hives (ABBA may prove too overwhelming), roll up your H&M sleeves, and dive headfirst into the original recipe. (Be warned that a serving of these little beasties (6) is 210 calories and contain 13 grams of fat - 5 of which are saturated. In the cafeteria, a regular meatball meal sees 15 spooned onto your plate.)

I've heard of people who will drive to IKEA first for these meatballs and second for the furniture. These are the same people who can tell me that Wednesday is rib night (a Scandinavian recipe?) and that it gets crowded quickly so one should get there early. I can't help but wonder, no matter how delicious they are, if these meatballs are a true representation of Swedish food or just Scandinavian-style fast food. Have we bought into the concept of genuineness because it's foreign and cheap or because they are, in fact, really good representations of the food? Probably, in the end, it's a little of both.

Next time I'm in the area, however, and looking to add to my ever-expanding cheap wine glass collection or searching for the elusive EKTORP, I think maybe I'll stop by one of the many pupuserias I pass along the way and save the meatballs for another day. Because when all is said and done, there is no Sven or Helga spooning these delights from the steam tray and not one sign of the reindeer or herring munched on daily from Stockholm to Santa's Shack. There are plenty of international foods in our region hand-made by those immigrants who now call our nation home. Let us dare to drop the frozen import from our fork and instead pick-up the fresh creation of a chef who prepares his meals from scratch on a daily basis.

Now don't get me wrong, I dare not suggest a boycott of the Swedish meatball - cocktail parties and IKEAS the world over would be less without them. But as we chase these delights down with a swig of lingonberry soda, let us not forget there is a world full of culinary surprises that extends well beyond those cardboard covered aisles. And who knows, if you explore a little, you may even discover a new aesthetic for your home in the process!