H&S 100, #7 Izzy's Ice Cream

Perhaps it is stating the obvious, since the Twin Cities is centrally located in a dairy state, but I’m going to say it anyway: the Twin Cities has the best ice cream in the U.S. You pretty much can’t swing a cat without hitting an artisanal ice cream “parlor.” Grand Ole Creamery and Sebastian Joe’s are extremely good; the latter, particularly, has some exquisite flavors, such as Chocolate Coyote (cayenne and cinnamon lend an unusual contrast to cool, creamy, sweet) or spumoni (almond-lemon-orange ice cream with slivered almonds and apricots). And there are some newer contenders that we have yet to fully explore.

My hands-down favorite, though, is Izzy’s. The winning factors for me include the following

~proximity

Izzy’s is only a fifteen-minute bike ride from our house

~playful use of technology

a computer screen projected on the wall shows available flavors, but it also synchs to a facebook page so you can have updates all day long! 

~creative flavors

Many flavors are created by customers by way of an annual contest. Some of these winning flavors, such as Hot Brown Sugar (caramel ice cream studded with cayenne pralines), have become standards. The boys love Dinosaur Egg (malted vanilla ice cream enlivened with blue food coloring and malted milk balls).

~commitment to sustainability

A majority of the power used to make ice cream and run the shop comes from roof-top solar panels. 

~an Izzy

a complementary, melon-ball-sized scoop of ice cream that tops all singles and doubles 

Izzy’s is located at 2034 Marshall Avenue (Cleveland Avenue) in St. Paul.

recipe: red lentil soup with lemon

I just ladled seconds of this soup for myself. And I may very well have thirds. It is insanely delicious. The ingredients are simple. The steps are easy. The results are hearty. Served over rice, you’d have a complete protein.  The recipe comes from Melissa Clark’s  In the Kitchen with a Good Appetite, which we worked our way through this past winter. There really are no clunkers in this cookbook, just lots of healthy, soul-satisfying dishes. I’ve tweaked the recipe slightly. After my friend Caryl told me she doesn’t puree the soup. I’ve stopped pureeing as well, which suits me fine because I prefer soups with chunks substance, something that resembles a meal more than a meal starter. This time I swapped out the cayenne for 1 tsp. of harissa, the potent Moroccan red pepper paste, which gave a deeper, but not overpowering, heat. Don’t skimp on the lemon. Its acidity and brightness transform a basic lentil soup into something magic.

RED LENTIL SOUP WITH LEMON

adapted from In the Kitchen with a Good Appetite (Melissa Clark, 2010)

Serves 6

4 tablespoons olive oil, plus additional good oil for drizzling

2 large onions, chopped

4 garlic cloves, minced

2 tablespoons tomato paste

1 tablespoon ground cumin

1 teaspoon harissa (perhaps rooster sauce would also work)

1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus additional to taste

½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

2 quarts chicken or vegetable broth

2 cups red lentils

4 large carrots, peeled and diced

Juice of 1 lemon, or more to taste

1/3 cup chopped fresh cilantro, mint, or parsley (I prefer cilantro)

1. In a large pot, heat the oil over high heat until hot and shimmering. Add the onions and garlic and sauté until golden, about 4 minutes.

2. Stir in the tomato paste, cumin, salt, pepper, and harissa, and sauté for 2 minutes longer.

3. Add the broth, 2 cups water, the lentils, and the carrots. Bring to a simmer, then partially cover the pot and turn the heat to medium-low. Simmer until the lentils are soft, about 30 minutes. Taste and add more salt if necessary.

4. Stir in the lemon juice and cilantro, mint, or parsley. Serve the soup drizzled with good olive oil and dusted very lightly with chili powder, if desired.

OPTIONAL: Using an immersion or regular blender or a food processor, puree half the soup (it should be somewhat chunky, not smooth).

Trade Joe's Lemon Heart Cookies

I just ate (nearly) an entire bag of cookies by myself.

I’m not a huge fan of Trader Joe’s because the food is, by and large, processed. I especially dislike that Trader Joe’s, through the use of super-slick marketing, attempts to make their processed food appear natural or healthy. Nonetheless, from time to time, I like to see what’s new at TJ’s, and on a recent visit, Lemon Heart Cookies seduced me. The package promised “delicately texture cookies with a hint of almond flavor and a light lemon icing.” And dang, I have to admit that those hearts were delicious even if they weren’t necessarily delicate. The texture is actually somewhat hearty, not as twice-baked hard as biscotti nor as buttery as shortbread. But they were dense and nutty from ground almonds. The lemon icing was perfectly tangy and crispy.

Even if it becomes my life mission, I am determined to hack these cookies at home.

(Disclaimer: I would like to give credit where credit is due to the photos I borrowed. However, I can no longer find either on a google image search. Apologies.)

H&S 100, #6 new restaurants

I get really excited at the prospect of new restaurants, especially when a favorite local chef is at the helm. Earlier today I made a "road trip" to the Linden Hills neighborhood of Minneapolis and was thrilled to hear the sound of power tools behind the brown paper-covered windows of Steve Brown's new restaurant. Tilia opens this winter, and I can't wait!

2011 is shaping up to be a good food year!

the year (2010) in food

Happy New Year! Hambone and Spice continued to eat well in 2010. We enjoyed many fantastic and memorable meals in restaurants, in our friends’ homes, and in our own home. I did far less cooking and entertaining this year, and I’m a little sad about that, but we always manage to do our best here. Hambone stepped into the breach this fall when I was encumbered with night classes twice a week.

Here are some highlights from our year in food and drink:

drink

Last summer, I invested in a bottle of St. Germain’s elderflower liqueur and drank just ½ an inch. Recently the liqueur found its place in a gimlet, though I’m still tweaking the proportions and hope to publish my findings soon. The Ale Jail opened on St. Clair this summer. We’ve enjoyed a stunning array of beer and look forward to a more systematic perusal in the coming year. We also welcome Scusi to our neighborhood and anticipate many small plate, pasta, and pizza meals.

best things eaten this year

~pasta and grain salads with grilled veggies and (sometimes) meat

~Alemar Cheese Company’s Bent River. Made in Mankato, Minnesota, this camembert-style cheese is fiercely buttery. I love it best on Lesley Stowe’s cranberry-hazelnut Raincoast Crisps.

~pho and the pork loin sandwich at Ngon (and sweet potato fries with sriracha aioli)—three years running

~crispy soft-cooked egg at Alma

~food in crusts: the chicken-liver pate-topped chicken pot pie at Haute Dish (above) and Cornish pasties in UK

~the spicy, savory, crispy, creamy migas at Bon Vie

~“dipped in butter, rolled in sugar”: ethereal doughnut muffins at Bars, St. Paul’s newest bakery

~dense and nutty pecan short stack at Uncle Bill's Pancake House in Cape May, NJ 

2011 promises more good food!

happy merry to all!

It’s Merry Chaos here in Princeton. Has a year gone by already? This fall has been very busy. I took four interior design classes, two of which were studio classes and another that had a lab. More on this later. For now, a comment on the day. As anticipated, there is no snow here in New Jersey, which is fine by me. It's a blessed relief from the two feet of snow that blankets my neighborhood. I don't need a white Christmas to be happy, just surrounded by family. Lots of squeals of delight over plastic crappies (Scarlett and Sophia, 4 and 5, respectively) as well as more subdued gratitude for much desired cell phones (Simon and Winston). 

I feel like a kid myself after consuming half a pound of grapefruit gelees in lieu of breakfast. But, a 23-pound turkey with Southern cornbread stuffing--straight out of the Columbus, GA, Junior League Cookbook--and bourbon sweet potatoes are in my immediate future. So all is right in the world.

No matter where you are and what you believe, I hope that your day is filled with peace and glad tidings!

Haute (pronounced “hot” not “oat” or “hottie”) Dish

My friend Kathleen is a committed foodie. In fact, she was a foodie before there was even a term for serious food lovers. She was pretty influential in my own embrace of cooking. I will always treasure the meal she cooked for Hambone and me when she was our houseguest—pasta with an olive oil, walnut, and anchovy sauce and a salad dressed with a vinaigrette at the heart of which was an orange juice reduction. All of which she seemed to just whip up. When I asked about the pasta, she mentioned casually that it was a favorite dish from a NYC restaurant. She and her friends were trying to re-create at home, and Kathleen, apparently, had nearly perfected her proportions and technique.

Kathleen was in town last week for a conference. We hadn’t seen each other in five years and needed to catch up in a way that is best done over a major cocktail and a delicious meal. I called 112 Eatery, which seemed like an obvious choice for food quality and ambience, but couldn’t get a reservation. Sitting at the bar after a long wait for seat didn’t seem right, plus, while the food is good, it does not trump the discomfort of a few hours on a barstool. And, I wasn’t up for the trek over to Alma, so then what? I am so out of the restaurant scene.

Then I remembered a friend’s recent interest in Haute Dish, which has a bad-boy chef known as Colonel Mustard. Awareness of Landon Schoenfeld’s antics coupled with his scarcity—Chef’s track record made him impossible to find—piqued my curiosity.

First impressions were strong. The restaurant’s design takes full advantage of the vast physical space, formerly Café Havana. High ceilings support oversized chandeliers. The textured tobacco-colored walls mimic dark wood paneling. Tables have generous space cushions around them. The vibe is great. Our server was attentive. No complaints, so far.

I appreciated the humor and playfulness of the menu. Among other things, the paper menu is affixed to a piece of plywood, which let’s you know attention has been paid to presentation. Food is divided into three sections: first (starters), middle (small plates), last (entrees). As I looked closely, the arrangement seemed a little unfocused and possibly even slightly confusing. It seems as if you’re meant to select a dish from each section, as you were at Alma, customizing your prix fixe. What is the middle section? The prices are too high to be sides. To some extent, the middle dishes feel like upscale pub grub—mac and cheese with crab, tallegio, and truffles; a gussied-up pork and beans; General Tso’s Sweetbreads. All a little over the top.

Kathleen and I split the House Salad—iceberg wedges with tomatoes and crumbled bacon, drizzled with blue cheese and French dressings, a much fancier version of what you would get in any South Dakota steakhouse. For my main, I chose the signature dish, Tater Tot Hautedish. A divine take on a Midwestern classic,* the Hautedish featured a succulent beef short rib perched atop baby green beans and adorned with potato croquettes the size and shape of an Ore-Ida tater tot. 

Kathleen had the fried chicken, which had been marinated in buttermilk, then double fried in lard. Under the super-crispy exterior, the chicken was silky.

So here are my main complaints:

1. That perplexing, disjoined menu

2. The cocktails were totally watered down. Also, the Pimm’s Cups tasted more like gin than Pimm’s liqueur.

3. The entrees were utterly unseasonable. All were stewy, hearty, and rich—perfect for the darkest winter days.  None were very appealing on a hot (87 degrees) and humid July evening. The only exception was the fried chicken, which was served with pickled watermelon rinds and a cooling pressed watermelon and felt like a summer picnic.

4. My “tater tots” smelled and tasted funky. I couldn’t figure out what was off, and that was a little disconcerting. But I had no problem eating all of these crispy/creamy morsels.

5. Everything is so clever, which is both the high and low point of Haute Dish.

I’m also feeling a little fussed over all the slathery reviews. I know Twin Cities foodies are desparate for exciting new places to eat. But, unless the restaurant has taken a precipitous downturn in quality since May, then a bunch of reviewers lost major credibility in my book.

That said, the short rib was impeccable. Velvety and unctuous, it was ideal in a way that I’ve never been able to achieve at home. I will return to Haute Dish because I'm curious about the duck in a can, which may be the most unique menu item in town. I'm looking forward to chef Schoenfeld and his all-star staff working out their kinks with food quality and service—I’d like to see him succeed here.

*The hot dish—typically meat, noodles, and veg bound by a canned cream-based soup— is a staple of many Midwestern family meals as well as church dinners and potlucks. It’s salty and tasty and, I’m sure, very simple to make. As best as I can figure, never having made it, you brown a pound of ground beef, thaw a bag of mixed vegetables (carrots, peas, green beans), mix with a can or two of cream of mushroom soup, and top with a bag of tater tots, then bake. Tater tot hot dish never graced my family’s dinner table. I always felt a little ripped off by that, though now I’m thankful for a mother who had the good sense not to pollute our bodies with processed foods.