summer dinners with a boy

My boyfriend was off climbing mountains in Colorado, and now he’s livin’ it up in chicago. I’m v. jealous (by which I’m v. sad I’m busy taking Biochemistry and couldn’t tag along) and also missing him just a bit.

So, I thought I’d recap some of the culinary fun we’ve been up to of late. Eating meals with Steve is really great, because instead of hemming and hawing about what to order, worrying whether there’ll be too much food, and so on; or when at home instead of limiting meal plans to one or two items; I have the thoroughly impressive appetite of Steve at my disposal. There can be enormous piles of food on the table and it matters not. All will be eaten and savored.

Steve’s second to last day in town we decided to have ourselves a proper date. First we took a looooooooooong walk along my favorite trail, stopping along the way to pick lotsa raspberries (the insane amount of raspberries appearing here in Virginia will definitely get their own post). On the outset of our walk, the sun shone brightly in the sky, but then ominous clouds began lurking across the horizon. Suffice it to say that we ended up sooooooooooaked to the skin. Drenched! Drowned rat looking!

However, as abruptly as the rain had begun, it ended, and we made our way back into the town of Vienna, where we’d parked, to have a nice early dinner. The sun semi-dried us along the way, and we also simply wrung water out of our clothes as we could.

We ended up at Alegria, which turned out to be an AMAZING Mexican restaurant. The area where I live is wonderfully diverse. If you fancy Korean barbecue, Peruvian chicken, or Vietnamese pho, you’re set. However, for whatever reason, likely having to do with immigration trends, Mexican restaurants are woefully lacking. This is a wonderful exception to that.

Loved the menu:

 

Loved the look of the space- dramatic arches, vaguely industrial looking yet beautiful light fixtures, neat paintings and ornaments hanging about. Pretty flowery whatsits. Bricks with character.

The open kitchen made for an entertaining view as we waited for our meals to be served.

I think the caliber of a Mexican restaurant can often be determined simply by tasting its salsa. (Though Taco Bell does have that delicious fire sauce…)

Both of these salsas were SPLENDID. The green (verde) one had clearly been prepared using fresh tomatillos and burst with favor. Not too spicy, just really fresh! The one on the right had that slow-cooked, intensely flavorful chipotle fabulousness. Heavenly. And of course the chips were freshly fried.

 

Alegria has a happy hour with not extraordinary deals but at least interesting options. Depending on the day of the week, you can get various flavors of margaritas (the day we went the option was tamarindo, and though for one semester of college I had a Mexican roommate and tried to sample the tamarindo candy she brought from home with gusto, I think it’s one of those flavors upon which you have to be raised to truly appreciate it). You can also get a food special each day, and this particular day there were taquitos. The boyfriend was right on that.

 

I only had a taste because I just didn’t feel like eating anything fried (fairly shocking for me; perhaps the endless procession of deep-fried awesome in New Orleans finally satiated that urge for a bit?) but anyway, they were delicious. An impressive quantity of shredded, flavorful beef and wonderful crema atop.

Then it was time to go to TACO TOOOOOOOOOOOWN! (That video pretty much sums up my boyfriend. When together, we quote it at least once a day.)

I was SO pleased with my order. You get three tacos for $12, which is a pretty good deal if you consider the caliber and size of these tacos. And of course the overall classiness of the restaurant :)

Remember that thing I said about not feeling like fried food? Clearly joking. The first taco I consumed, and possibly my favorite (though all were delicious) was the fried fish taco. The PERFECTLY fried fish taco. The astonishingly crunchy beer-battered awesomeness on the outside, zippy slaw beneath perfectly balancing the flavors, lovely and tender and flavorful fish taco.

In the center, the fish taco a la plancha, with the fish grilled, accompanied by the most wonderful, satisfyingly non-mushy veggies, with a zippy sauce atop.

And the dark, poorly lit one is the grilled portabella mushroom taco, complete with caramelized onions and a delightful crunch from pepitas.

Rounding out the plate was some rice and beans on the side, which I mostly gave to Steve.

So so so so good!

Now let’s talk home cooking. In Steve’s apartment, now vacated, he had a cute little patio outside and a cute little tiny Weber grill on it. We spent many a relaxing evening out there, having dinner or sometimes just a glass of wine.

In lieu of deck furniture, we just moved the coffee table outside!

 

(Note: forgot my camera and Steve was nice enough to let me use the phone on his camera. The scene was too pleasant not to capture, but the light was a little dim!) 

This particular evening, Steve took the lead on the menu.

It included:

- Grilled peppers stuffed with a flavorful rice mixture, topped with cheese
- Grilled corn on the cob

- Foil packets, placed on the grill, one of a DUH-LICIOUS dill and butter and potato combination; and another of squash with herbs 

- Homemade pico de gallo (two variations, one of which included a mango habanero hot sauce that Steve picked up in New Orleans). Lettuce wrappers in lieu of chips, to make whatever exciting combinations we felt like.

Quite the feast!

Another, indoor meal (likely there were too many bugs and/or there was too little light). I’d been eyeing this Cooking Light recipe for chilled butter bean soup ever since I’d gotten the June issue in the mail. A trip to HMart later, I had fresh fava beans (mmmmmm) rather than the butter beans called for, but I felt no fear.

This was WAY good! The relish gives it a nice welcome chew and fresh basil makes everything more delicious.

Speaking of fresh basil, I used this as an opportunity to make the first PESTO of the summer! Always such a wonderful milestone. (I also had my first tomato salad of the summer last week, and that was an absolute joy as well!)

This pesto was particularly amazing for two reasons, both involving Steve:

1. It was served atop Steve’s homemade pasta, which he has become a BEAST at making! I have a pasta maker inherited from my cousin (who inherited it from my grandmother) that I rarely use, but with which Steve has fallen in love. He’s been making pasta at least every week, often more, and has come up with the most delicious variations (with a sweet potato-flax incarnation being particularly noteable).

2. I made a blenderful of pesto [oh, oh, additional good thing about Steve- he always has pine nuts!] and it was a big ol’ batch so I was thinking we’d have some on the pasta and have some leftover. Well, Steve, as a nonbeliever in leftovers, just dumped it all on the pasta. So it was essentially equal parts pasta and pesto. If you love pesto (and how could you not?!) this is a really delicious idea.

Helpful Steve also took on cheese grating duty

letting the good times roll

Sweet holy heaven, do I have a delicious looking series of posts for you.

The setting, as you may have inferred from the title: NEW ORLEANS! Aka the place with the food so good it ruins all other food for you. Forever.

In a decision that was a fun mix of naiveté, kindness, optimism, and my phobia of flying, Steve and I departed to and returned from New Orleans by car in an EPIC 16-HOUR-ROAD-TRIP. 16 hours both ways, that is. Epic. Crazy. The purpose of our voyage was to celebrate my sister’s graduation from Tulane and to have my trusty Camry available to tote her stuff home.

We opted to take a more leisurely pace on our way down, taking in the shockingly lovely scenery of Southern Virginia, Tennessee, Alabama, and Missisippi.

A billboard inspired us to take an EXCEEDINGLY fun detour to the Mayfield Dairy. Question: who among you WOULDN’T love to go on a tour of an ICE CREAM FACTORY?!

The tour was a fun mix of history- the now-enormous dairy company began humbly as the son of a farmer experimenting with dairy farming on a small plot of his father’s land- a look at the astonishingly efficient and mechanized assembly line of ice cream production, and of course, a sampling opportunity.

I had the blueberry pie ice cream, pictured above, and it. was. marvelous. Freshness I’m sure played a role, since the ice cream had been produced literally down the hall. Since the milk gets delivered daily (something in the family of the milk of 20,000 cows. Can you even picture that?! I cannot), it seems a logical inference that it was local and from a recently milked cow. And anyway, it was just exceptionally well-made ice cream. My blueberry pie one was creamy and perfectly (but not excessively) sweet. The blueberries tasted fresh and delicious and the pie crust chunks- which were more like a sugary cookie- were a delight.

Steve got a caramel one that was also incredible- you know the monumental difference between the rich, dark, ever so slightly bittersweet caramel that pools at the bottom of crème caramel and the high-fructose-corn-syrup ice cream topper rubbish you buy at the grocery store? This caramel was in the former category. Mmm.

After a stay at the Bates Motel (well fine there were no dead bodies) in Meridian, Mississippi (a town recommended by my car guy, who’d also road tripped to Nola. Yes, it had lots of hotels but all of them were bafflingly full- apparently a lot of businessmen traveling to work at the local power plant?!) we at last arrived in the Crescent City, motoring in over a multi-mile bridge looking out on Lake Pontchartrain.

With stiff legs, we were immediately raring to go.

My sister led us through her truly beautiful campus. Stunning live oak trees with the most amazing canopy of leaves surround the buildings and lawns. The buildings are lovely and fit perfectly with the landscape.

And, of course, there is a tree completely draped in Mardi Gras beads.

After we assured her we were ready for some authentic New Orleans cuisine, my sister led us to the awesomely named Cooter Brown’s.

On the menu? Po’Boys. Ohhhhhhhhhh Po’Boys. This is not your last look at them.

I opted for the po’boy with fried Gulf shrimp, and oh what an excellent decision that was. The sandwich’s exterior was a long roll generously sprinkled with sesame seeds, perfectly toasted and then drenched in what looked like melted butter. Then the shrimp, which were ENORMOUS (is it just me or are Gulf shrimp supposed to be small? Wasn’t the case here!) were expertly seasoned and had an irresistible spice to them. They were also perfectly fried and not at all greasy. Oh and there were a TON of them. On top was surprisingly fresh lettuce and tomato and perfect pickles.

What a sandwich!

 

During our meal, Steve and I mentioned that we wanted to see some levees to get some context about Hurricane Katrina. Malindi laughed really hard and led us outside. Fact: in many places, a levee is a big pile of dirt. A couple feet high, max. Really puny and entirely useless looking. How on earth the entire city isn’t entirely underwater already is beyond me.

This was reinforced as we strolled around after our meal and saw water… everywhere. The Mississippi… being really huge. The mega-lake. It’s all pretty but it’s also… weird.My mother and my sister, on a previous visit to the city, had taken a hurricane tour. I would’ve liked to’ve had more time to do it, because it sounds like an interesting, if sobering way to see the city. Apparently as you go along the Mississippi by boat, you are looking down from the water into the lower Ninth ward. And, even now, there are many blocks where you can spot a set of stairs leading to… nothing, where houses were entirely washed away and never rebuilt.

Anyway, New Orleans is a different kind of city. In many ways. I will wax philosophic about it more in future posts.

One key example of the uniqueness of Nola is that after our meal Malindi urged us to get daiquiris. Never mind that it was 1:00 in the afternoon; we were in New Orleans! Land of public drinking, where one can order a drink at a bar to go, then stroll down the streets sipping a daiquiri! Ridic.

Guess which one was mine and which was Steve’s?

 

It was a fun novelty enjoying a pina colada while walking around, but I knew sugar+booze+sunshine could give me one hell of a headache if I kept drinking. So I really only had a little. Steve finished his and was then sugar-stunned for awhile.

We kept walking.So you know how everyone talks about the New Orleans architecture? Yeah, that. It’s amazing.

We strolled along Saint Charles Avenue, a street that’s essentially a series of gorgeous old mansions. Now, I live in the DC suburbs, an area where god-awful McMansions are perpetually appearing, with their tacky vinyl siding extending to the furthest corners of their tiny lots. While these houses were huge, they were also stunning: high quality materials, thoughtful architecture, myriad oak trees and beautiful gardens lending perspective to their size.

I’m not going to lie, it’s a little disorienting seeing such a large, concentrated, publicly available demonstration of affluence in New Orleans, a city where poverty and crime are at a level I consider frightening and wrong. However, it is undeniably beautiful. And even more normal-sized houses have a unique charm in New Orleans.

 

We continued through beautiful Audobon Park, then over to Magazine Street, a great place for eating and shopping. I loved how stores were interspersed with pretty private homes. It was not too commercialized and very walkable. Blocks further down that were crowded with restaurants and the appearance of an American Apparel saddened me; I wish more cities had streets that were allowed to be pretty and distinctive, rather than falling prey to complete and total commercialization.

One of our favorite spots on Magazine Street- and something that I think should be a required stop in Nola for any food lovers- was Sucre, a truly amazing bakery.

 

Virtually everything for people who like sugar was there. Beautiful and uniquely flavored gelato (I once sampled a basil and coconut flavored one that tasted like Thai curry); beautiful pastries like you’d find in a Paris bakery; cupcakes; homemade chocolates. Wanting something light, special, and delectable, I opted for macarons!

Sucre’s flavors were amazing. Along with typical standbys- strawberry, pistachio, coffee and the like- they also had truly innovative flavors. I opted for three (I did share them… sort of): the hazelnut, which was filled with chocolate; the carrot cake (!); and the white chocolate with lavender (!!!!). On our follow-up visit to Sucre (necessary!) I got that white chocolate lavender one again. It is a winner of a combination; the herbiness really cuts that cloying sweetness of white chocolate. I envision some homemade ice cream inspired by this confection in the future.

The night ended with dinner cooked in Malindi’s apartment (our job was to use up her groceries; Steve did his best, eating something like seven hot dogs during the trip); a trip to The Boot, a bar right by campus that does triple shot drinks for four dollars (oh college); and creative sleeping arrangements due to me poorly communicating about a need for an air mattress.

The accommodations were considerably nicer at the bed and breakfast where we brought my mother after picking her up at the airport the next morning.

I mean come on when you go in through the courtyard you know this is gonna be classy.

The story of my family’s relationship with The Chimes, this truly amazing bed and breakfast, is a lengthy one. Some facts:

- We learned of its existence from our neighbor, a man who was in charge of logistics for Reuters during Hurricane Katrina. Reporters and photographers needed a place to stay and post their stories, so Larry arranged to just bring in a generator and rent out the entire bed and breakfast. And they had as pleasant an experience as anyone could during Katrina, because they had somewhere beautiful and harmonious to stay.
- When my sister’s appendix self-destructed last year and I was frantically trying to book flights and accommodations to New Orleans while my mom was frantically trying to tie up loose ends at her office, I called Jill, the lovely proprietor of The Chimes. She assured me that a room was available for my mom for the next two nights, and added that if she needed to stay after that, on a night they were fully booked, they’d just let her sleep in their daughter’s room (!)
- The shower in the room was beautiful and huge and had little pebbles embedded in the bottom of it, so taking a shower was like getting a foot massage; particularly nice with the amount of walking we did
- Carl Kassel’s voice is on their answering machine. Not because they won on Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me, but because he stays at The Chimes every time he’s in New Orleans
- It is on Constantinople Street. That is awesome.
- Cab drivers LOVE Jill, because she always refers people at the B+B to a specific cab company, because they are the most reliable. One guy, who was giving my mom and sister a ride somewhere, said he was visiting his native country of Barbados and saw some beautiful seashell chimes. He said, “If those don’t cost a thousand dollars, I am buying them for Jill!” They cost 75, so he bought them, and they now adorn the courtyard with many other sets, and the sound is absolutely lovely when the breeze blows.

For those reasons and many more, we love The Chimes.

This is how my dream house will be decorated:

Once we got my mom settled, lunch was in order. Malindi continued her winning streak of restaurant recommendations by leading us to Baru.

We lucked out with a lovely table outside.

Looking out at gorgeous flowers (which were everywhere in the city).

The restaurant had lots of fun little things to combine into meals, which is absolutely my favorite way to eat. We began with a buncha small plates to share:

Trio de Causas

Chilled Tuna and potato salad / avocado / quail egg / peruvian olive aïoli 

 

I mean really?! Along with being stunning (lovvvvvvvvve the purple potatoes) the flavor was great. It offered the nostalgia of a deviled egg but had an extra dimension of flavor that was wonderful.

 

Mazorca

Roasted corn/ salao cheese/ pink sauce/ potato sticks 

Looked like a pile of french fries at first, but digging revealed the other ingredients!

Ostras

Deep-fried Louisiana oysters/ cilantro aioli/ caramelized onions 

Sauce on the side, for my cilantro-hating sister. LOVE oysters. Wish I could eat them every day. These were spectacular, especially with those amazing onions on top.

For my main dish of sorts (was already feeling pretty darn satisfied by the dishes above) I got one of their tacos, which involved big fat awesome shrimp in a remoulade sauce; avocado; and pickled onions. Fab.

 

Steve got their fish taco, which had a special sumthin’ sumthin’.

I couldn’t really handle day drinking for a second day in a row, but these sure looked good!

I think that’s quite enough for one post, so I’ll conclude with a spectacular display of immaturity.

Two pictures from the general vicinity of Tulane’s campus, presented without comment:

 

More Nola posts to come!

Have you been to New Orleans? Did you luuuuuuuuurve it?

the best lunches

The best lunches are spent with people you like!

Alone meals < With Friend Meals

Now that Steve and I are both on student schedules, lunches are the best mealtimes for us to meet up Tuesday-Thursday.

Arriving at his place is fun and unpredictable. Sometimes he has an adorable appetizer waiting for me.

 

These were absolutely delightful stacks of sliced banana, peanut butter, a shredded wheat piece, honey, yogurt, and a blueberry on top.

 

As for the main course, it typically involves rice, beans, and veggies cooked in some manner. And by usually I mean always. This particular day, those items went into tuna tacos. Odd but good. Particularly good with Cholula atop, and kale chips on the side.

The best pictures in Steve’s apartment are taken next to the glass door… but it means you get really intense carpet texture in your shots. Nonetheless, the food looks good.

 

And Steve’s latest obsession is oven-baked sweet potato fries (yum) with a condiment of mayonnaise mixed with sesame-oil-enriched Korean hot sauce. YUM YUM YUM!

True story: I may claim to love to cook but I think I actually hate it, because I am always soooooooooo grateful when Steve makes meals for me. And they are always soooooooooo delicious. And his kitchen is walled off from the rest of the apartment and I only wander in and out while he cooks which meaaaaaans… I don’t have to know how much butter he uses.

Friday I met up with my best friend Lydia for lunch. It was a fun if slightly woeful lunch, since Lydia’s skippin’ town to go up to the frigid North. Her boyfriend, and a buncha great opportunities are up there… but I will miiiiiiiiss herrrrrrr!

Anyway, we went to Sweetgreen, where they make you salads the size of babies. It was a beautifully sunny, if depressingly cold, day.

Let’s see if I can remember everything this contained:
- base of kale and baby spinach
- roasted broccoli
- roasted teeny cubes of sweet potato
- cherry tomatoes
- almonds
- baked falafel, which was kee-razy good. If any of you are fortunate enough to have tried the chickpea two ways at Cava, it tasted like that. Crispy outside, heavenly light and olive-oily innards.
- carrot-chile dressing

 

Came with their outrageously delicious whole grain bread. PERFECT bread (in my opinion): dense chewy crust, puffy bubbly slightly tanger center.

Hosted a farewell dinner for Lydia on Saturday. Didn’t feel like documenting with fun pictures (see “will misssssssssss herrrrrrrrrr”, above) but the meal was EXCELLENT.

- Steve’s pico de gallo
- homemade plantain chips (just so-so, didn’t use enough oil)
- kick-ass enchiladas: cooked up soy chorizo (Lydia’s a vegetarian… and it’s DELICIOUS) with some veggies (a little onion, lotsa mushrooms, green pepper) and browned everything all up. Then added diced sweet potatoes (!) and water and cooked down til tender. Meanwhile made this incredibly easy homemade enchilada sauce. For some reason I have always been intimidated by making enchilada sauce and was thisclose to buying a bottle at Trader Joe’s til I read the ingredient list, scoffed at the various sugar derivations and nasty oils and artificial whatsit, and decided to make it myself. REALLY easy, REALLY good. Anyway, so into my pan went whole wheat tortillas (too big, oops!) wrapped around that great filling with that great sauce and a whole buncha cheese on top (Steve was in charge of shredding!) Spectacularly delicious, actually
- Mark Bittman’s fruit crumble. Apples as the filling (used a mix of sweet, tart, and sweet-tart, per some authoritative article about baking with apples I read a million years ago). Used the citrus-herb variation of the topping, which involves large amounts of citrus zest, ground coriander and black pepper (!) along with a stick of butter. How could it not be glorious?