Posted Friday, September 14, from Rapid City, SD - We accomplished a lot today from a sightseeing point of view. Our first stop was Mount Rushmore, and I don't think there is much I can tell you about it that you don't already know. (If you don't know much about Mount Rushmore, check here.) Whenever I visit a place of iconic importance I always wonder if it will live up to my often unrealistic expectations, or if the thing will somehow look smaller, or shabbier, or otherwise disappointing. Mount Rushmore did not disappoint. The faces carved in the side of the mountain are even bigger, more realistic, and more impressive than I had imagined, and the visitor's center built at the base offered a wealth of information on the history and construction of this most noble tribute to four of our greatest presidents. This is one place on a very short list of places that I believe every American should visit.

We drove the 17 miles from Mount Rushmore to the Crazy Horse Memorial outside of Custer, South Dakota, and to be honest, I didn't have very high expectations for this unfinished (and possibly never to be finished) stone carving. I admire the man the memorial commemorates, and I find the scope and scale of the project difficult to comprehend, and I stand in awe of the sculptor who has the courage and vision to undertake such a giant project, yet I remain unimpressed by this work in progress. Maybe I will appreciate it more fully when, and if, it is completed, or maybe I will always consider it a failed attempt to better its majestic neighbor, Mount Rushmore. I shouldn't fail to mention that I might have come away feeling better about the Crazy Horse Memorial if they hadn't charged an exorbitant $10 per person entrance fee. My recommendation is to see it if you are in the neighborhood if you have the time... and money. (Learn more about the Crazy Horse Memorial here.)

We finished our day by driving home the long way in order to enjoy the spectacular scenery along the Spearfish Canyon Scenic Byway. Most canyons have to be viewed from the rim looking down into the chasm, but the Spearfish Canyon is different because you get to appreciate it from the bottom looking up as you drive along the floor of the canyon. This 20-mile detour is well worth taking if you happen to be traveling along I-90 in western South Dakota. For more information on the drive and some excellent photos, click here.

 

 

Posted Monday, September 17, from Gardiner, MT - Oh what wonders I have seen. My mother and I have spent the better part of the last two days (Saturday and Sunday) driving around Yellowstone National Park, and Cooky has been with us every inch of the way thanks to the unfriendly pet policy of the Super 8 motel in Gardiner, Montana which prevents me from leaving him in the hotel while we go out and see sights. I have much to report, but first I need to tell you about Friday's drive from Rapid City, South Dakota to Gardiner.

I had planned a straight shot with no stops, but shortly after leaving Rapid City on I-90 we decided to take a short 30-mile detour to see Devil's Tower. I'm glad we did. I have to say that this unique monolith is one of the most impressive sights these eyes have ever beheld. It takes no leap of imagination to understand how this was a mystical and holy place to the Native Americans who lived in the area, and the place continues to have deep spiritual significance to the descendents of the first humans to have laid eyes on it.

I was a little disturbed to learn that the name "Devil's Tower" was dreamed up by a white man who was among the first white men to see it. Disturbed because there is absolutely nothing devilish or evil about this miracle of geology. I prefer the name Bear Lodge because this is the translation of the name the Indians gave to the place in many of their languages many thousands of years ago, and its reputation as a place where bears are plentiful added to spiritual significance given to it by the native population. Therefore, I will refer to it as Bear Lodge in accordance with the wishes of the Native American people who hold the tower of rock in great reverence. Here's a tip, folks: don't fail to see Bear Lodge if you're ever in this part of the world. You can learn more about it here.

Our second stop of the day was the Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument which is literally alongside I-90. This controversial site is one I probably wouldn't have driven out of my way to see because I have mixed feelings about the event it commemorates. Many people see it as a tribute the more than 260 brave American soldiers who died there; most people would probably agree that it is a monument to a military blunder of epic proportions; and some of us think of it as a reminder of a day when the systematic annihilation of an indigenous people didn't exactly go according to plan. However you feel about the events that earned this dull patch of land in Montana a place in the history books, it's worth a stop if you happen to be driving by. There is more about it here.

 

Posted Tuesday, September 18, from Coeur d'Alene, ID - Mom and I agreed that we did a pretty darned good job of seeing Yellowstone National Park, especially for two people who hardly ever got out of the car. Mom has a little trouble getting around because of her advancing years, and I'm just plain lazy. Cooky stayed in the car because we didn't want to tempt any passing bears with an irresistible snack.

I won't tell you how beautiful and majestic the park is because you've all seen pictures and television documentaries enough to convince you of that. I will say that the picture I have seen don't do it justice, and once again I am convinced that there is no substitute for the human eye when it comes to beholding beauty.

We drove a total of about 250 miles over the course of two days, crawling along at a snail's pace at times, and making several stops to enjoy the vistas offered by numerous roadside pullouts. We saw many examples of the local wildlife, especially mule deer that have free run of the service areas of the park, and many buffalo traveling solo or in pairs, and disappointingly never, it seems, in a sizeable herd. We also got a close up look at a huge 12-point elk, and a enjoyed seeing a small red fox as it trotted parallel to the road we were driving on for several hundred yards. We were charmed and delighted by the tameness of these wild animals, and found it reassuring that people and animals can coexist in harmony as long as one isn't shooting at the other.

We wish we had seen more wildlife, but have to confess that if we had ventured further from the roads than we did, our wishes surely would have been granted. So with no one else to blame but ourselves, we blamed Cooky. He didn't protest.

But there is one huge fact concerning Yellowstone National Park that, to my knowledge, has never been divulged in printed or filmed stories about the world's first national park. No magazine, book, or television documentary has ever mentioned (as far as I know) what I am going to tell you about.

 

 

 

Posted Wednesday, September 19, from Seattle, WA - What significant true fact about Yellowstone National Park has never been revealed (to my knowledge) in print or on film? Ah, I'm glad you asked. One thing about Yellowstone National Park you will read nowhere other than in your favorite recipezine is that the place stinks. Yes, that's right, it smells awful.

Actually, the vast majority of the park smells just fine, or even sweetly and pleasingly fragrant. It's just the things the park rangers like to call "thermal features" that reek. Anywhere you find water spurting from the ground, or bubbles percolating through puddles of thick, brown mud, or steam rising from the surface of the ground, you are likely to encounter the unmistakable odor of hydrogen sulfide, otherwise known as "that awful rotten egg stench."

I don't know why no other sources (that I am aware of) bother to mention this fact because the smell of sulfur and its gaseous compounds is something one expects from volcanos and their ilk, but for some reason I didn't expect it from the familiar "thermal features" that every American school child learns about when studying Yellowstone. Maybe I didn't expect it because I wouldn't expect that every school textbook, magazine article, and television documentary I have ever seen on the park and its "thermal features" (to the best of my recollection) would blithely ignore this fact that becomes glaringly and unpleasantly obvious to the unexpecting park visitors. I guess it just goes to show you that your beloved Chef is just about the only guy you can trust to give you the true facts on all matters great and small. Or maybe all the books, magazines, and documentaries mentioned this fact and I just wasn't paying attention at the time.

I am writing you from my decidedly unglamorous yet comfortable and very reasonably priced room at the Motel 6 just north of Seattle where Mom, Cooky, and I will be enjoying the first protracted four-day stay of our trip, so please stay tuned to see what we learn. Everything we have seen so far indicates that Seattle smells just fine.

 

Posted Thursday, September 20, from Seattle, WA - We spent the better part of the day exploring Seattle's famous Pike Place Market, or as the locals are more likely to call it, the Public Market. What a great place. We walked, shopped, tasted, and dined during our visit, and even after almost four hours felt we had barely scratched the surface. Indeed, there are still three levels of shops in the market itself and four blocks of shops across the street (which are considered part of the market, I was assured) still remaining to be explored.

My mother and I often make a practice of making lunch our main meal of the day and eating a picnic-style dinner in our hotel room when we travel. This saves us some money in that we don't spend as much on lunch as we would on a lavish dinner, and it allows me to return to the hotel and publish your favorite recipezine without worrying about where or when we're going to eat. This is what we did today.

For lunch we chose the Athenian Inn in the market, a small place with a huge menu and a great reputation among the locals. We started with bowls of steamed clams and the best steamed mussels I have ever tasted. I had a large portion of perfectly cooked salmon, and Mom had an Asian-style stir-fry of shrimp, scallops, and snow peas served on white rice. The kitchen is blessed not only with the best quality seafood and produce available anywhere, but also with cooks who have the skill and restraint to treat their raw materials with the delicacy required to make them shine. Both dishes were daily specials and worth every penny of the rather hefty but still reasonable price.

We shopped for dinner while we were there and came home with some freshly baked crusty loaves, paper-thin slices of imported serrano ham and half an Italian sopresatta sausage (to accompany several cheeses we already have on hand), some lovely multi-colored cherry tomatoes, a bunch of crisp arugula, and some honey-sweet black mission figs. So many things to eat, so little time.

We have two more full days in Seattle before we hit the road on Saturday, and I have a feeling we might not accomplish much in terms of seeing the sights other than a few more trips to the Pike Place Market. If that is the case, I will still consider Seattle a great city and a destination for food lovers based on this singular market alone.

 

 

Posted Friday, September 21, from Seattle, WA - As I suspected we would, Mom and I dedicated another day to exploring the fabulous Pike Place Market in downtown Seattle. Today we ventured beyond the street level of the main building to check out some of the shops on the lower levels and across the street.

The lower levels of the main building are filled with shops selling gifts, souvenirs, and knick-knacks of every description. As you might expect whenever someone uses the expression "of every description," these range from the unique and exotic to the mundane and downright tacky. There are no shops there selling food or food-related items, so we our interest and the time we spent there were both minimal.

The shops across the street were more rewarding from a foodie standpoint as there are many bakeries, food vendors, and small restaurants laid shoulder to shoulder along a four to five block length, all of them beckoning to the passing gastronomist. We chose, however, to return to the familiar surroundings of the market building proper for our lunch in a wonderful little French restaurant called Place Pigalle.

My mother started with an order of mussels as she usually does when mussels are on the menu. These were done in an unusual broth that tasted of fish stock and smoky bacon. We both pronounced them extraordinary. I had a bowl of French onion soup and it was exactly as I hoped, true to the classic soupe à l'oignon gratinée with a dark, rich beef broth, lots of lightly browned onions, and a crouton covered with melted Gruyere cheese forming a crust on top. Magnifique.

Mom followed with a salad of mixed greens including arugula and braised Belgian endive (two more items she almost always orders when they appear on menus) topped with thin slices of lightly sauteed duck and rabbit liver and garnished with some lovely pickled onions. I chose a "Rabbit Cassoulet Nouveau," a hearty dish of stewed rabbit, wild boar cheeks, and Avignon sausage surrounded by creamy flageolet beans. I am always suspicious of the term "nouveau" when applied to food because it often indicates that the chef has substituted traditional ingredients with things like tofu and alfalfa sprouts, but this dish was faithful to its classic origins, and delicious.

If this had been a competitive ordering event I would have declared myself the victor. My compliments to owners Lluvia and Seth Walker for the food and surroundings, and to Karen, the lovely young lady who took such good care of us. You can check out the restaurant's website here.

 

Posted Monday, September 24 from Coos Bay, OR - Since leaving Seattle Saturday morning we have driven about 400 miles along the winding Pacific coast of Washington and Oregon. Today (Sunday evening as I write this) we landed in Coos Bay in southwestern Oregon after overnighting in picturesque and appropriately named Seaside, Oregon on Saturday. The scenery has been delightful and our progress is frequently impeded by scenic overlooks and other "must see" obligations every good traveler faces. Today it took us over seven hours to drive just a little more than 200 miles along the scenic US 101, and every stop was worth its weight in gold.

Our travels carried us through the town of Tillamook, well known (some might even say "famous") for the cheese produced by the local cooperative of 130 dairy farms. Their visitor's center has an informative self-guided tour which ends, not surprisingly, in the factory store where they also happen to sell, not surprisingly, their excellent cheeses, ice cream, and other dairy products. Yours truly picked up a 2-pound block of extra-sharp white cheddar, a bag of squeaky cheese curds, and several containers of yogurt. Yours truly's mother picked up some gifts and postcards and topped her morning off with a huge scoop of creamy black walnut ice cream - some of the best she has ever tasted, she says. Check out their website here.

A continuing theme since we left Seattle has been the quest for fresh local seafood that is well cooked. The fresh and local parts are no problem, but we have been having a little trouble finding restaurants that don't insist on breading and deep-frying every type of fresh, local seafood they offer. I'll elaborate in tomorrow's edition.

 

Posted Tuesday, September 25 from Eureka, CA - We are in the small city of Eureka on the coast of northern California, and I am happy to report that fresh, local seafood is abundant and varied around here. Virtually every restaurant and roadside diner advertises seafood, and most of them offer a wide selection that usually includes salmon, halibut, Dungeness crab, oysters, mussels, and razor clams, all scooped from local waters. There is no doubt that this part of the world is blessed with a bounty of foods from rivers and oceans, and it's a pity that so many people seem to think that the only way to cook it is to wrap it in a thick coating of bread crumbs and deep-fry it in hot oil.

The people I refer to not only includes the restaurateurs, chefs, and cooks who practice this least sophisticated method of cookery, but I also have to lay at least part of the blame (if not the majority) on the American consumer who doesn't seem to be able to order a meal that doesn't include a deep-fried item or three. I challenge you to count the dishes coming out of the kitchen of the typical American restaurant, and if 80 percent of them don't include at least one deep-fried item, I'll buy you a dish of cottage cheese.

I have been eating almost exclusively in restaurants for the past 17 days (the only exception being when we have a "picnic" meal out of our cooler in the hotel room), and I am appalled at the amount of deep-fried food foisted upon the American public by the restaurant industry in this country. If a visitor from another planet landed in the United States and studied our restaurant dining habits, they would probably think that Americans are allergic to cooked vegetables. Potatoes are obviously safe to eat, they would invariably conclude, and salads composed of raw ingredients are available in most restaurants and fast-food outlets these days and therefore must not present a significant danger, but when they realized that steamed broccoli, buttered lima beans, and green peas are almost totally absent from American menus, they would probably conclude that these items aren't allowed in food preparation areas due to their threat to human health.

I know this is a battle I'm never going to win, but I think it's way past time that we all start insisting on healthier choices from the restaurants we patronize. If we can't get a well balanced meal in the vast majority of our restaurants, somebody must be doing something very wrong, and I'm afraid that you and I are as much to blame as anyone. Think about it.

 

Posted Wednesday, September 26 from Santa Rosa, CA - Today we drove another 200 miles or so along beautiful US 101, this time through the rugged hills and lush valleys of northern California, primarily through the fabled Mendocino and Sonoma counties. A glance in any direction reveals long rows of grape vines, confirming that we are deep in the heart of wine country. We will be making Santa Rosa our home base for the next few days while we pause to catch our breath, explore the wineries, and eat as much as belt and wallet will allow in some of Napa Valley's fine restaurants. I'm going to make today's journal entry a short one because I have some serious meal planning to do, so if you'll excuse me...

 

Posted Thursday, September 27 from Santa Rosa, CA - Today we drove to the city of Napa for the express purpose of visiting COPIA, the American Center for Wine Food and the Arts. Their literature declares that their mission is "to explore, celebrate and share the many pleasures and benefits of wine, its relationship to food and its significance to our culture." It seems to me that their real mission is to separate as many people from the $5 admission fee as possible.

I'll concede that there are a couple of displays on the second floor with a handful of artifacts and some big, expensive photographs, but these weren't worth the price of admission. The rest of the building was dedicated to selling tastes of wine from automated machines, using a pre-paid credit card type thing to extract small samples of various wines for $2 to $6 per sample. We passed on this opportunity. The ground floor also sheltered a large and expensive gift shop with some interesting merchandise gathered from some of the finest mail-order sources, but very little of a local or regional nature. There are expansive gardens with a wide variety of crops being grown for demonstration purposes, but overall the displays were very disappointing.

The day was salvaged by our lunch at Julia's Kitchen, the restaurant that also occupies the ground floor at COPIA. Named for America's favorite cooking teacher, the kitchen specializes in "California-French" cuisine. My mother and I both ordered the same thing, contrary to our standard habit of ordering different things so we can sample more dishes, because the lunch menu featured two products that neither of us can pass up: foie gras and sweetbreads. (You can see a similar but different lunch menu here.) The food was extraordinary, the service was efficient and friendly, and the prices were high but still within the range of reasonableness. If you go to COPIA I suggest you skip the $5 admission fee and go directly to Julia's Kitchen for a memorable meal. (You can learn more about COPIA here.)

 

Posted Friday, September 28 from Santa Rosa, CA - Today we struck gold. Who would have guessed that the unassuming little place at the side of the road, well off the beaten path, would yield such gastronomic treasures? Willi's Wine Bar in Santa Rosa is a food-lover's haven I am glad to share with you.

We arrived a little before noon and were dismayed to find an empty parking lot - never a good sign. We were seated nonetheless in the lovely outdoor dining room and were soon joined by several other tables of diners. We had read that the restaurant specialized in "international small plates," a dining style my mother and I enjoy because sampling several small dishes always allows for more variety and opportunities to try new things. Joe, our knowledgeable and helpful young waiter, advised that most people order two or three dishes, and that sounded about right to us.

We ordered four dishes to be shared "family style," as Joe had recommended, and they were delivered from the kitchen at a perfectly staggered pace, much better than being piled on the table all at once. The first dish to arrive was the baked oysters with corn, bacon, and parmesan crust, and the tiny local oysters were surrounded by still-bubbling cheese, reminding me once again (as if I would ever forget) that burned cheese is one of the best things in the world.

These were followed in short order by filet mignon "sliders" (an homage to the tiny hamburgers served by fast-food places like White Castle and Krystals) with creamed spinach and whole grain mustard Bearnaise, with toasted miniature brioches serving as the buns. This combination of American steakhouse classics, homey comfort food, and classic French cuisine is a dish I wish I could eat at least three times a week.

Next came the Moroccan-style lamb chops, cooked to a perfect medium-rare and served on a bed of couscous scented with preserved lemon. The long, charred bone begged to be picked up and gnawed after the meat was gone, and we both gave in to the temptation.

I think the chef must have been reading our minds because he saved the best for last. The roasted bone marrow with toasted brioche and red onion marmalade arrived at the table still sizzling, and Mom and I didn't do much talking for several minutes as we enjoyed this wonder of gastronomy in reverent silence. If you have never enjoyed beef marrow, please try to overcome any negative mental images you might be harboring and think butter from Heaven.

Dessert was a creamy, light butterscotch creme brulee and a flourless chocolate cake with hazelnut ice cream, both dishes outstanding in their conception and execution, and the whole meal was accompanied by a wonderful Monticelli Brothers "Rolando Roso" which was appreciated not only for its full-bodied fruitiness but its moderate $35 price tag as well. All in all, two traveling gourmands looking for a special lunch in California's wine country couldn't have done better than we did today. The challenge will be to top this tomorrow - I'll keep you posted. Meanwhile, you can check out the restaurant here, and the winery here.

 

Posted Monday, October 1 from Santa Barbara, CA - Since you heard from me last I have left the fabulous Napa Valley area and traveled down the California coast to historic Santa Barbara. I have driven through downtown San Francisco and over the Golden Gate bridge, through Monterey and Carmel on the beautiful Big Sur coast, and paid a brief visit to William Randolph Hurst's incredible "summer camp" at San Simeon. There is much I have to tell you, including the details of a truly remarkable meal, but I'm going to beg off for now so I can spend some time with my best friend from high school days who drove up here from Los Angeles to spend a few hours with us. I'll get caught up over the next few days, I promise.

 

 

Posted Tuesday, October 2 from Needles, CA - Today I drove an uneventful 350 miles from Santa Barbara to Needles, California with nothing noteworthy to report, so I'll get you caught up on some old news.

Last Friday we decided to wrap up our stay in California's wine country with a truly memorable meal, so we checked out Zagat's ratings for restaurants in Santa Rosa. The highest-rated restaurant in the city was called Syrah Bistro and was conveniently located less than two miles from our hotel, so we made dinner reservations.

The Zagat guide had recommended the chef's tasting menu, and upon arriving at the restaurant we learned that chef Josh Silvers offers two tasting menus: one of four courses, and the other of seven courses. We chose the seven-course option and sat back while the dishes started arriving from the kitchen.

The first to arrive was a light and refreshing amuse bouche of "clear gazpacho" consisting of a clear tomato-flavored liquid (filtered tomato juice?) with some diced tomatoes. Next came a lovely salad of thinly sliced red and yellow beets garnished with a thin slice of Humboldt Fog goat cheese from Cypress Grove Chevre of Arcata, California.

What followed were a succession of dishes as well conceived and prepared as any I have ever had anywhere. These included a single huge sea scallop with an astonishingly delicious sauce of cream and wild mushrooms, a perfectly seared piece of foie gras served on toast with candied pears and a maple and sherry reduction, duck breast with German red cabbage, and a thin slice of fillet of lamb on a bed of curried squash and wild rice. A cheese course consisting of three California cheeses, quince paste (dulce de membrillo), and some homemade crackers arrived as course number six, followed by the dessert tray consisting of chocolate mascarpone cake, coconut rice pudding, and an absolutely perfect creme brulee.

The total tab, including a good bottle of California pinot noir, two espressos, and a well-earned tip came to $265, an extravagant amount for two travelers of modest means but worth every dime. I hope you'll consider adding the Syrah Bistro to your wish list when you are looking for an extraordinary meal in one of the world's finest food regions. You can read more about this fine little restaurant here.

 

Posted Wednesday, October 3 from Williams, AZ - I am writing from Williams, Arizona, which is little more than a wide spot in the road that serves as a gateway to the Grand Canyon National Park. We will be paying our respects to the Grand Canyon tomorrow, and are also planning to drive through the unbeatable scenery of the nearby Navajo and Hopi reservations.

The hotel we are staying in, like the A&W diner we ate lunch at in Seligman, Arizona, is on the historic Route 66, the road that John Steinbeck called "the mother road" in Grapes of Wrath. Interstate 40, the route we have been taking the past couple of days and will continue to take for several more days, runs roughly parallel to the old 66 in these parts, and many of the roadside services such as motels, restaurants, and service stations are still located on the old Route 66, offering us numerous opportunities to explore a little of America's past as we motor across the country in air-conditioned 75-mile-per-hour comfort.

One day, when I have more time to devote to the project, I think it would be fun to travel the entire length of Route 66, or at least the parts that are still navigable. Until then, I'll have to settle for reading about it, and Wikipedia has an excellent article on "The Main Street of America" here.

 

Posted Thursday, October 4 from Winslow, AZ - Today we drove from Williams to Winslow, Arizona, a straight shot along I-40 of about 90 miles that should have taken a little over and hour to negotiate. We chose to take "the long way," with a stop at the Grand Canyon and a scenic drive through the Navajo and Hopi reservations in northern Arizona. Our more circuitous route was about 270 miles and took us a little under seven hours including the time we took to admire the scenery, do a little shopping for Native American art, and enjoy a lunch at the Cameron Trading Post in Cameron, Arizona.

I think just about everyone is aware of the world-class vistas offered by the Grand Canyon, and the number of visitors from all around the world attest to its international standing as a tourist destination. What many people may not be aware of is the breathtaking scenery that surrounds the Grand Canyon for hundreds of miles in every direction. For example, the area immediately east of the Grand Canyon is called the Painted Desert, and it's hard to think of a more appropriate name. The layers of clay and sandstone form a rainbow of earth tones that tempt the viewer to believe they were added by the hand of man rather than being the work of millions of years of sedimentation and erosion. The entire area is a "must see" for anyone who appreciates natural beauty, and if you haven't explored the area yet, I hope you'll add it to your list of things to do.

 

 

Posted Friday, October 5 from Gallup, NM - I have driven through the Petrified Forest National Park at least four times before, but I had never seen it before today. Let me explain.

Interstate 40 cuts through the northern tip of the park and I have driven that route four times in the past without getting off the freeway. Today I got off the interstate and I can assure you that I will never drive that stretch of interstate highway again without making the detour through the Petrified Forest.

 

I have already tried to impress upon you the magnificence of the scenery in this part of the world, and I won't belabor the point any more than I already have because, frankly, I'm just not up to the task as a writer. I will tell you that, in my opinion, this is the most beautiful part of the planet. I have seen many beautiful things around the world, both natural and man-made, and nothing comes even close to the dramatic land formations in the American Southwest.

Needless to say, I visit this area as often as I can, and some of you might remember the account of my travels through southern Utah and northern Arizona in June and July of 1999. I am so fond of the area that visiting some places feels like visiting old friends, yet in spite of many trips through the area over a period of more than 30 years, I never fail to find spectacular vistas that are even more memorable than the ones I have been enjoying for so many years. This is what happened to me today driving through the Petrified Forest National Park. Take it from someone who passed up four opportunities to see this park in the past - don't.

 

Posted Monday, October 8 from Santa Fe, NM - My goodness, so much has happened since you heard from me last. I have driven from Gallup to Santa Fe, New Mexico, have had some stellar (and some not-so-stellar) meals in Mexican restaurants, have been treated to lunch by lifetime subscriber and my new friend Colleen Stransky at Santa Fe's famous Maria's Cafe (this was one of the stellar meals both for the food and the company), and have taken a cooking class. Let me tell you about the cooking class.

We arrived in Santa Fe late Friday afternoon, and the first thing I did was check the website of the Santa Fe School of Cooking to see which class I might be able to enroll in on short notice. I was pleased to learn that they had a class called "Cuisines of Mexico III" scheduled for 10 A.M. on Saturday morning, so with a few key strokes and a $70 charge to my credit card, I was enrolled.

Being the conscientious student that I am, I arrived a few minutes before the scheduled hour and took a seat around one of several round tables with my fellow students - there were about 20 of us. At the front of the class was a small kitchen featuring an eight-burner stove and counter with mirrors hung above it at an angle so we could all see the top of the stove and counter clearly.

Chef Eddie Lyons was our instructor for the day, and he was as personable, literate, and good looking as any TV chef. During the course of his demonstration, which involved the preparation of five dishes almost from scratch (a few ingredients had been prepped and cooked in advance), he also shared with us several professional tips involving things such as clarifying butter, juicing citrus fruits, roasting and grinding spices, and many more tricks of the trade. He deviated on several occasions from the recipes printed in the handouts we were given, explaining that he preferred one method over another, or liked one ingredient more than another, and he encouraged his students to do the same whenever we cook from a recipe. Sound advice, indeed.

At the end of the class, which was conveniently timed to end at lunchtime, we were served the five dishes we had watched him prepare. Having paid rapt attention to his every motion and word for almost two hours, I thought I had a pretty good idea how they would taste. I am happy to make admit publicly that I underestimated this talented young chef because every dish was even more flavorful, balanced, and perfectly prepared than I had anticipated. A tip of my imaginary toque to chef Lyons.

This was the first cooking course I have ever enrolled in. It's something I look forward to doing again in the future, and something I would recommend to every cooking enthusiast. You will probably want to find a school close to home, but here is the link to the Santa Fe School of Cooking if you are curious about their course offerings and gourmet items from their shop.

 

Posted Tuesday, October 9 from Pecos, TX - Today we drove 350 miles from Santa Fe, New Mexico to Pecos, Texas and in the process traded the magnificent scenery of northern New Mexico for the flat, dull, monotonous plains of West Texas. The scenic part of our journey has ended and I am already trying to think of an excuse to plan another trip to the Southwest sometime soon, but we still have one gastronomic destination remaining.

At one point in the process of planning this trip, Santa Fe was our final food destination, and the plan was to head for home via the most direct route. This would have had us driving along I-40 through cities such as Amarillo, Texas, Oklahoma City, and Little Rock, Arkansas on a beeline to our home in central Georgia (or "middle Georgia" as the locals like to say). I'm sure that these are all very nice cities inhabited by very nice people, but they offer little to the peripatetic epicure. I know this because I have driven the route several times.

Following a desire to add at least one more stop of culinary interest to our trip, we chose to take a more southern route along I-10 which would take us to San Antonio, Texas and onward through southern Louisiana. This added another 350 miles and one more day to our travel plans, but we decided it was worth the additional time and expense because we are both familiar with and very fond of the city and the food of San Antonio.

This is why we find ourselves in the figurative and literal wasteland of Pecos, Texas, its only contribution to our itinerary being that it is conveniently located approximately halfway between Santa Fe and San Antonio. We will try to make the best of the situation by seeking out some authentic Texas barbecue for dinner tonight, and I'll let you know how that turns out tomorrow. Please wish us luck.

 

Posted Wednesday, October 10 from San Antonio, TX - We found a small restaurant in Pecos, Texas that specializes in Texas-style (of course) barbecue, and I would like to tell you that the meat was perfectly cooked, juicy and tender, still hot from the grill and aromatic with the faintest hint of mesquite smoke. I would like to tell you that, but I can't. I never even tasted the meat because it was swimming in a pool of barbecue sauce so pungent that it completely overpowered the beef.

Much has been written about the art and science of barbecuing, with much of the literature and discussion centering on the type of sauce that should accompany the meats. These sauces are generally divided into two categories: vinegar-based and tomato- based ("tomato-based" is usually code for "ketchup-based"). To my way of thinking, most of these sauces, whether vinegar- or tomato-based, are really sugar-based, and as a result, I generally eschew barbecue sauces of all types. I like meat, and I prefer mine without sugar.

I know this will raise the hackles of many of my readers, and anyone with ambitions of becoming a recipezine publishing magnate like me would be well advised to avoid all topics that are likely to infuriate your normally appreciative readers. This is an exception for which I will not take the easy way out. Regardless of the type of barbecue that is popular in your part of the world, it is best served with the sauce on the side, and I insist that there is no exception to this rule.

And as long as I'm on a rant, why do we need to put sugar on our meat? Virtually every recipe for barbecue sauce you will find anywhere in the USA has sugar in it. Okay, some have honey, or molasses, or brown sugar (I have even seen recipes calling for all three!), but they're all sugar-based. Enough already!

Below is a barbecue sauce I developed, and you'll notice there isn't any sugar in it. I hope you will try it. Note to self: Order the barbecue sauce on the side from now on.

The Chef's Own Barbecue Sauce

1 cup (250 ml) dry red wine
1/4 cup (60 ml) balsamic or red wine vinegar
1/4 cup (60 ml) olive oil
2 Tbs (30 ml) Worcestershire sauce
2 Tbs (30 ml) soy sauce
1 onion, coarsely chopped
1 Tbs (15 ml) grated orange zest
1 tsp (5 ml) ground ginger
3 - 4 cloves garlic, coarsely chopped

Combine all ingredients in an electric blender or food processor and process until fairly smooth but still slightly chunky. Transfer to a saucepan and bring to a boil over moderate heat. Reduce the heat and simmer uncovered for 10 minutes. The sauce will be quite thin. Makes about 2 cups (500 ml).

 

 

Posted Thursday, October 11 from San Antonio, TX - We have only been in San Antonio a little more than 24 hours and we're already delighted that we decided to add this final gastronomic destination to our itinerary. We have found two restaurants, both less than two blocks from our hotel in the historic downtown area, and they have both been real winners.

Last night's dinner was at Pico de Gallo Mexican restaurant, and as good as the food was, the food was only part of the experience. The staff was friendly and efficient, the atmosphere was somewhat raucous with several small children running among the tables (a sign of a true Mexican restaurant), and the Mariachi band was enjoyed by all. We started with a plate of quesadillas, and even though there were several options to choose from, I always prefer my quesadillas filled with nothing but cheese - I'm kind of a purist when it comes to classic cuisine. My mother followed with a bowl of menudo, the famous tripe soup of Mexico, and I had chicken enchiladas in the thick, deep brown sauce called mole poblano (or usually just mole), whose main claim to fame is the chocolate among its many ingredients. Everything we had was exceptional and I wish we were staying here long enough to try several more of their dishes. Check out their website here.

Lunch today followed a couple of hours of strolling through the so-called Farmer's Market and Market Square, just across the street from our hotel. I say "so-called" farmer's market because there used to be a farmer's market there many years ago, but now the building houses several small shops selling goods from Mexico and other parts of Latin America and is now a farmer's market in name only. We stopped for a cold beer and some lunch at the Mi Tierra Cafe y Panaderia (restaurant and bakery). The food was further reinforcement that we had done the right thing in scheduling an extra couple of days in this gastronomic Mecca. I almost always order tacos when I'm in a restaurant that knows how to prepare them properly (no crispy shells, thank you very much) and these were exceptional although unconventional in that they were made with wheat rather than corn tortillas. My mother's plate of "Chilaquiles Famosas" included chilaquiles (tortillas topped with scrambled eggs, ranchero sauce, and melted cheese) and an extraordinary pork in cascabel chile sauce. This is what I would order if I had time for another meal there, but unfortunately we are scheduled to leave San Antonio tomorrow morning. Read more about Mi Tierra here.

Tonight we are meeting with several members of the San Antonio Ring for a special dinner at an Argentinean restaurant, and I expect I will have much to tell you about tomorrow. I hope you'll forgive me if I leave you to get dressed for dinner now.

 

Posted Friday, October 12 from Beaumont, TX - Several readers have written to question why I would choose to dine in an Argentinean restaurant in San Antonio when there are so many great Mexican restaurants to choose from, and this is an excellent question. After all, Rule of Gastronomy #257 states quite clearly, "When in San Antonio, eat Mexican." However, in this situation I need to cite Rule of Gastronomy #194 which states, "When in Texas, eat beef." And when it comes to eating beef, no one does it better (or more) than the Argentines. This isn't a Rule of Gastronomy - it's just a fact.

When Lisa Hinajosa, the delightful leader of the San Antonio Ring, offered several suggestions for places to meet and eat, I literally didn't even read past her first suggestion because it was a place called Gago's Argentine Restaurant. Lisa knew that my family had lived in Uruguay many years ago and as such are great fans of the regional cuisine, and I knew that Lisa had lived in Buenos Aires and was therefore a qualified judge of the cooking of the Rio de la Plata, so the decision was a no-brainer. I was in Texas, and I was going to eat beef cooked in the best Argentine manner.

Lisa and fellow Ring member Virginia Ridgeway organized the small get-together and my mother and I were delighted to meet them, along with Lisa's husband Ed, and Virginia's husband Henry and sixteen-year-old son Paul, who single-handedly dispelled my long-held suspicion that teenagers are nothing more than a product of a cruel and heartless Creator. He's a great guy and was a pleasure to be with.

We were given special attention by owners Carlos and Lucy Gago because they are nice people and because of the relationship Lisa has built with them. The food was extraordinary, and our hosts kept the food and excellent Argentinean wine flowing in abundance. Lisa also came bearing a bag full of small gifts of food and mementos, all from Texas, naturally, which my mother and I will be enjoying (and quibbling over who gets what) for many weeks. These two lovely ladies did a truly remarkable job of making us welcome and treating us like visiting royalty, and my mother and I will be in their debt forever. Thank you ladies.

Be sure to add Gago's Restaurant to your list of places to dine when in the San Antonio area, and check out their website here.