Whew. I'm stuffed. Loosen yore belt, as they say at Cracker Barrel, and take our Thanksgiving Tryptophan Hangover Questionnaire:
1. What was the best thing you ate today?
2. What was the worst thing you ate today?
3. The TV show my family gathering most resembles is __________.
4. Believe it or not, I am craving _________.
5. Complete this sentence: "Come next Thanksgiving, I will never again..."
I know I shouldn't post this, but I'm too much a child of the early '80s to pass up a chance to celebrate three of my favorite things: food, Thanksgiving and holiday-related slasher movies. Here's the wonderful (and extremely gross) NSFW fake trailer director Eli Roth cooked up for his segment of Grindhouse. Be warned: this contains gore, nudity and gratuitous violence to men in turkey suits.
If you need more reasons to give thanks, be thankful I didn't share any clips from the infamous 1972 splatter movie Blood Freak. You know, the Christian anti-drug scare film in which a guy gets dosed with LSD, eats some bad turkey, then turns into a turkey monster with a ridiculous bulbous head. Lay off that third ladle of gravy, or you could have a dream like this.
Online grocer Plumgood Food is closing after four years of operation. Citing the economic downturn and an inability to compete on pricing with
large retailers, co-founder Eric Satz distributed a letter today stating that Plumgood
will close Dec. 5. Beginning Monday, Dec. 1, the web site will
discount all inventory by 25 to 50 percent.
Eric Satz's letter follows after the jump.
In this week's review of Mirror, the enduringly cool eatery
in 12South, I gushed over chef Michael DeGregory's fish & chips. Covered in
ethereally light tempura batter, drizzled with malt glaze and served with
wasabi horsey sauce, this fish could go fin to fin with any in town.
Try telling that to Cleveland Pete Kotz and Jim Ridley, who
recently engaged in a little pen-to-pen combat over who has the best fried fish
in town in the Scene's Food Fight issue. Ridley said Eastside Fish, Kotz
said Dan McGuinness. Now I'm throwing Mirror into the fray.
Who would you bet on? Place your wagers and get back to us when you've tried all
three.
I love tattoos, and think they are the very epitome of hotness. Never got one myself, though, because I couldn't conjure an image, or even a noun, that summed it all up.
But that's because I hadn't discovered food tattoos. Chowhound spotted the trend recently and has a Top Ten food tattoos feature. A bounteous banana split! A porkalicious pig! A fleeing truffle! Now here was a category that, unlike a Chinese character or a celtic knot, that you could commit to for life.
Flickr has a food tattoos pool, too. Apparently cupcakes are a popular new tattoo. I love the brilliant banana here. Not sure I could commit to a banana for life, but okay.
The Flickr stream includes a tattoo of likeable Mr. Kool-Aid that's the tattoo opposite of food adoration, and I'd love to interview the owner. Who hates Kool-Aid? Enough to get a tattoo of it?
Bricks Café, the nascent chain of brick oven restaurants, is
scheduled to launch its third store Dec. 1. Located in the strip mall at 330
Franklin Road--in the retail subdivision with Chick-fil-A--Bricks offers an
extensive menu of sandwiches, salads, soups, brick oven pizzas and other entrees.
The 5-year-old chain has two other locations at 6448 Nolensville Pike and 2020
Fieldstone Pkwy. in Fieldstone Farms. The restaurant will serve lunch and
dinner daily and has a full bar and wine list. As always, if you get there before us, please report back on Bites.
Sure, you could buy someone a holiday fruitcake that tastes like a brick of raisin-studded glue. Or worse, you could go to the trouble of chopping up dates, pecans and plums and making your own--only to have the ingrate recipient chuck it in Santa's Little Dumpster with all the others.
Seattle novelty store Archie McPhee, home to such culinary wonders as the Watermelon Flavored Sigmund Freud Head Lollipop and the Yodeling Pickle, has the perfect alternative: the Inflatable Fruitcake. For just $6.95 plus shipping, you can mail one of these marvels to any vague acquaintance who merits an obligatory gift--I mean, any beloved relative. From the catalog:
It's festive, it's traditional and it's inedible--just like the real thing. Each vinyl fruitcake comes deflated with a 9-1/2" x 5-1/2" envelope and a decorative sticker, making it easy to send one to all of your friends and family! When inflated, this icon of old-fashioned baked goods is 8-1/2" x 5" x 4-1/2" and makes a great centerpiece for the holiday dinner table.
It probably tastes fresher too. Act now, and maybe you can also get a Corn Dog Air Freshener.
Last summer, Big Fella and I and another couple had dinner at a steak place, where I ordered my steak at 148 degrees.
"Is 146 or 150 okay, or does it need to be 148 exactly?" asked the server. It's a good question. I like that temperature so the meat is juicy and pink, without a bloody flavor. Temperatures down to 143 give a good result, but above is too done and the meat is chewy and gray.
It seemed like a helpful gesture and a clear mandate for the kitchen, but my friend said, "Are you crazy? They're back there laughing their heads off, probably spitting on your steak."
I'm so naïve. Is it true? I asked some cooks around town.
Andy Hunter at The Acorn: "I'll cook a steak any way someone wants. Even when I get upset about outlandish requests, there's a door between the kitchen and the dining room. I would make fun of you from behind the door. "
Alan Horsnell at Ombi: "We have a list of meat temperatures, and according to it, your steak is near medium and that's how I'd cook it. The more information we have as cooks about what your preferences are, the more likely we are to nail it."
Brian Uhl at Cabana: "I'd probably get a chuckle out of it. We don't use a thermometer, and to be honest, I don't think you'd find many places that do, because you don't want to pierce the steak."
Uhl added that the Cabana kitchen has also been asked for salmon at 135 degrees. Is this something I should know about? Cooks and chefs, be brutally honest: Is a specific temperature request your fondest hope or an eye-rolling annoyance?
A few weeks ago, Scene book editor Margaret Renkl taught me
how to bake a pumpkin pie. (Here's a hint: It involves store-bought crust and
Joy of Cooking.) Freed from the shackles of homemade pie crust, I'm finally hooked on baking. All pie, all the time. I baked all my leftover Halloween decorations. (Upon realizing that he was devouring his very own pumpkin, my 3-year-old reacted as if I'd told him we was eating his hermit crab.) When I ran out of soggy jack-o-lanterns, I turned to sweet
potatoes.
With T minus 48 hours until Thanksgiving, I've still got a little
of the baking bug, but my family is pumpkined and yammed out. What other
autumnal fruits or veggies--mixed with the usual medium of evaporated milk, eggs and cinnamon and topped with whipped cream--make for a good Thanksgiving pie? Extra points for pies that don't turn out orange.
East Nashville restaurateur Matt Charette will open the doors Tuesday, Nov. 25 to his long-awaited sushi restaurant, Watanabe. Named for chef/co-owner Hide Watanabe, the restaurant is the third in Charette's burgeoning East Nashville dining empire, which includes Batter'd & Fried and Beyond the Edge.
Located in the corner unit of Riverside Village, next door to Mitchell Delicatessen, Watanabe will serve a roster of sushi and Korean and Thai dishes. With a 45-foot bar of stained concrete that doubles as a sushi counter, Watanabe has a license to serve wine and liquor and is working on its beer permit.
Located at 1400 McGavock Pike, Watanabe will serve dinner 4:30 to 10 p.m. Tuesday through Saturday.