Category Archives: Uncategorized

Culinary School Woes: I Just Don’t Like These Pants

Posted on by
Reply

Culinary school has a lot of benefits.

We get to taste a new type of dessert everyday, attend food shows, and scarf down what’s left of the themed breakfast buffets every Thursday morning. But culinary school is like any other experience and has its own set of ups and downs. Our pants come to mind. I just hate those pants.

 

Next week, our semester will come to an end and we’ll return our uniforms to AmeriPride. I will not be sad to part with my pants over the summer. These aren’t just any pants, they’re culinary school pants and we get five pairs. Have I mentioned how much I loathe them? Let me count the ways:

First, they’re unisex pants and don’t differentiate between male and female anatomy. I don’t need to explain these differences, only to say that there are reasons why pants aren’t generally offered in unisex shapes.

Not only are these pants unisex, but they have a firm waistband that just doesn’t give. It’s not like these are sweatpants. They’re non-stretchy unisex pants. This is unfortunate considering they’re like clown pants merged with high-waisted, tapered jeans from the 90′s. These pants levitate towards my bosom and are so severely starched that they literally stand on their own legs. When I sit down, they rise, and when I exhale, they squeeze my abdomen like a sausage.

I encountered these pants during my first week of school on Uniform Fitting Day. We took turns meeting with vendor representatives who assigned us pants. Now, I’m a petite individual who already has trouble finding adult clothes, any clothes, and most especially pants. It’s hard to be on either side of the size spectrum, and it’s not fun to be on the small/short size when default sizes are often set to extra large. I hauled a few pairs of pants to the bathroom and tried them on. They fit in such a comically bad way, that I confronted a random girl in the bathroom and asked for reassurance.

“They’re not that bad, are they?”

In the Midwest, “Minnesota Nice” is a reality, not a myth but even she could not say anything nice about the pants. She made a face and replied, “I don’t think those are supposed to fit like that.” That’s when I ran.

I found the AmeriPride representative and showed him my pants so he could see for himself how badly they fit before he sentenced me to wearing them for a year. Even he could not tell me, in good conscience, to just wear the pants, so he made a note to find a different size and hem about a foot from the bottom.

My final grievance about these pants is that they are white. They match our white everything: Pants, jacket, and baseball cap which comes in a one-size-fits-all. No matter how tightly I adjust it, the bill always falls into my eyes. It’s not unusual for me to run into others or biff counters and I maneuver around the kitchen by watching my feet. I know that white symbolizes ideals like cleanliness or purity, but what if it’s accented by spots and streaks in questionable colors? I feel like a walking canvas. A sunset painted in carrot orange, rusty blood, and chocolate streaks. I just hope I don’t unknowingly sit in something colorful. On especially messy days, I jump at the sight of my own clothing. People must look at me and think, “Wow, that girl sure knows how to throw down in the kitchen,” or, “What a klutz!”

In addition to being prone to staining, white pants are also kind of revealing. Some of my white pants are constructed from thick fabric, while others border on transparent. Both become see-through when wet and, since we are often cooking with water or spraying down dirty dishes, this is a significant concern. I have to wear pants underneath my pants because I just don’t trust my pants.

All of this makes me wonder, “Why white? and, “What’s up with these pants?”

Turning in my pants will feel bittersweet, but unfortunately, it’s not a goodbye. It’s a see you later.

Culinary School Update on Simple, Good & Tasty: Menu Planning Basics

Posted on by
Reply

Visit Simple, Good and Tasty for one of my last culinary school updates for the semester. This time we change gears as I share what I’ve learned from my menu planning course.

Our teacher provided us with an introduction to menu planning that included topics such as pricing strategies, truthfulness in item descriptions, and basic design principles. Then, he set us loose to create our own.

I’ll meet you there. 

How To Remove Photos Someone Else Posted To Yelp Or TripAdvisor Without Your Permission

Posted on by
Reply

This past week, I was surprised to find two of my original photos posted on TripAdvisor’s website. They were uploaded as the main images for both both Fargo locations of Extreme Pita and Lakes Country Buffet, located in Fergus Falls. I also found that one of my photos was being used as the main image for Brass Lantern, Alexandria, MN on Yelp. Ironically, the photo uploaded for Extreme Pita featured pita I baked in my own kitchen and the photo for Lakes Country Buffet was actually taken at a different restaurant.

These photos were used without my permission, did not link to my blog, or provide me with compensation, even though they were used to promote the restaurants. To edit a restaurant listing on these sites, one has to have set up an account and register their business, but anyone can upload photos. I’m not sure who uploaded mine, but guess it may have been someone associated with the restaurants. Otherwise, I’m not sure why a random individual would take the time to upload photos from my blog, especially considering they didn’t feature the correct restaurants.

I immediately requested that TripAdvisor and Yelp remove them by filing a Digital Millennium Copyright Act (DMCA) notification. Tripadvisor removed the photos within 24 hours of the next business day but ignored my requests to send me confirmations the issues were resolved. Yelp was slower to respond, taking about a week to remove the photo, but they did send me an email confirmation.

Keep in mind that the other party can send you a counter-notice if they feel they were not infringing. You can read more about this process on the links to the Electronic Freedom Foundation’s website, below. In my experience submitting DMCA notifications, I’ve only received one counter notification from an individual bold enough to claim they had the right to use my photos however they wished because I published them on my blog. A simple reply put an end to this nonsense and it was promptly removed. In my experience, companies take these requests seriously, as they are liable if they do not enforce copyright law.

One could add a watermark to their photos, which may prevent them from being stolen. I choose not to. Watermark or not, you still have a right to protect your photos.

I learned a lot about bloggers’ rights and the DMCA notification process on the Intellectual Property section of the Electronic Freedom Foundation’s (EFF) Legal Guide for Bloggers.

To send a DMCA notification to TripAdvisor, simply email it to: copr@tripadvisor.com. Include the following text and customize it to your individual case. Keep the paragraphs separated and marked.

a.) Describe the work you claim is infringed and provide a link to the source where the work is taken without permission.

b.) Provide a link to your own website to show the work is your own.

c.) Include your contact information such as a phone number and email address. Some companies may ask for your home address.

d.) Include the statement,”I have a good faith belief that the material that is claimed as copyright infringement is not authorized by the copyright owner, its agent, or the law.”

e.) Include the statement, “I swear, under penalty of perjury, that the information in the notification is accurate and I am the copyright owner, or am authorized to act on behalf of the owner, of an exclusive right that is allegedly infringed.”

f.) Provide your electronic signature by typing your name as you would normally sign it.

There are a several ways to file a notification with Yelp. First, you can send them a message on this Contact page. The word space is limited, but if you condense some of the the DMCA notification above, you can fit in the whole request. I received the fastest response when I created a Yelp account and flagged the offending photo as inappropriate, explaining the issue in the space provided. Yelp sent me an email response and removed the photo. The email confirmation was sent from feedback@yelp.com and made not mention of not responding to the email address, so you could give this a try. Finally, you could contact your local Yelp Community Manager on Twitter. For Minneapolis-St. Paul, this is Annie D’Souza @YelpMSP. She responded to my direct Tweet quickly, while the individual managing the Yelp headquarters account did not respond.

I Tried Cafe 21′s Vietnamese Banh Mi Sandwich

Posted on by
3

This past week’s spring break was a good example of how even the best laid schemes can go awry.

One morning, I planned to drive to the Twin Cities to visit a some friends. My last solo trip was interrupted by a blizzard and all of the major freeways surrounding Fargo-Moorhead were closed. This happens, here. They actually close the freeways.

I was desperate to go to the Twin Cities. Spring break’s fluctuating weather left me stir crazy. Plus, I felt guilty for mistaking the date of a get-together I initiated. My friends were kind to rearrange their schedules and I wanted to attempt the drive. With nothing more than a soda and a backpack, I drove east on I-94, even though it had been closed earlier. I figured that as a seasoned Midwesterner with new tires, the roads couldn’t possibly be that bad. After all, the MN Department of Transportation traffic map categorized the roads as challenging and I am usually up for a challenge.

The road becomes icy and I witness a frightening car accident when someone pulls around my car to pass me. They whiz past me and I watch as they begin to spin in circles and tumble into the ditch. For the first time in my life, I call 911. I panic and my hands shake so hard I can barely hold the phone. The dispatcher keeps asking me to better describe my location and I can’t. Finally, someone tells me they found my location from my phone. By the time I turn around at the next exit, the police and tow truck are at the scene and it looks like everyone is OK. I drive home going 45 miles an hour, even though a plow has already sanded the road. Cars and semis pass me, clearly frustrated, and I don’t care because they didn’t see what I just saw.

I spent my last weekend of spring break at home. Sitting on and brooding in my wanderlust.

On a nicer day, I returned to Cafe 21 to try the Vietnamese banh mi sandwiches they only serve at lunch. To my knowledge, these are the only regularly offered banh mi sandwiches in Fargo-Moorhead. I have found cold cut banh mi sandwiches at the Asian market but they look like they are imported from the Twin Cities. I’m not a fan of the mysterious deli meats and feel some of the freshness is lost in transit.

We’ve previously enjoyed a couple dinners at Cafe 21, especially liking their fresh spring rolls and spicy ramen. I found their version of pork bulgogi to be less spicy and sweeter than the fiery versions my favorite Twin Cities Korean restaurants serve, but I’d still order it again. On this weekday, I ordered two banh mi sandwiches ($7 each) to go. One for me and one for Jake, who unsuccessfully tried to order one on our first visit. Cafe 21 only offers a roasted pork variety, but this happens to be my favorite. The server kindly brought me a glass of water as I waited for my order and 15 minutes later, I was on my way home.

Each sandwich was packed with a serving of french fries and small cups of ketchup and soy sauce.

I found a lot to like about this sandwich. The pork had a satisfying savory flavor. There were a lot of sweet and sour pickled vegetables. Strands of fresh cilantro and jalapeno. A glistening of mayonnaise and, best of all, a thick smear of pate. It looked like banh mi’s I have loved and tasted like banh mi’s I have loved.

Unfortunately, I felt the size was a little small and the bread was too hard. The bun was overly toasted and crunchy like a crouton. I sustained minor damage to the roof of my mouth. In the Twin Cities, the typical roasted pork banh mi is a slightly larger in size and typically costs around $3.75-$4. This is Fargo, though, and I realize banh mi sandwiches are rarer and the food costs higher.

The flavors were spot on and the fillings were fresh, but that bread. Overall, a good effort.

Wanderlust: Hillsboro and Mayville, ND

Posted on by
8

When I get bored, I drive. When I feel sad, I drive. When I have the time, I drive.

My life is flecked with wanderlust. Or, more like plagued. I’ve read enough travel memoirs to know I’m not alone and that there are more like me out there. This week, I felt great kinship with author Irma Kurtz as I read her memoir The Great American Bus Ride, cover to cover.

I like the safety and security of my home base. My nook on the couch and the flop of my husband’s favorite slippers as they slap the hard floor. I like waking up to the sound of his morning showers and the smell of freshly brewed espresso. But I also like to wander and this wanderlust always leaves me with a certain amount of discontent. One small town or back road is never enough. Once I visit, I want to know more about that town and then I want to move on to another. Ironically, my wanderlust is both propelled by both enthusiasm and fear. There’s nothing I find more invigorating or terrifying than solo travel.

It’s Thursday and nearing the end of my spring break from school. At the break’s start, I became enamoured with Andrew Flier’s website Everydot, in which he photographs every town in North Dakota. I spent hours working my way down the list, from A-Z, lost in big skies and fields of soft, waving grass. Some of the locations were nothing more than an intersection of rusty dirt roads. Others reminded me of the abandoned towns depicted on AMC’s television series the The Walking Dead. I kept an eye on those that seemed to have active cafes and bars and notated them on a map. Flier was kind enough to email me back and mention a couple memorable dining experiences.

I stayed up late drawing majestic itineraries that would take me to the far reaches of North Dakota. Straight north to the Canadian border, passing through Grand Forks, Cavalier, Langdon, Pembina, and ending at the strange, pyramid-shaped safegaurd complex. Another took me through the south-central part of the state in search of German-Russian cuisine, passing through Fredonia, Wishek, Napolean, and Linton. Unfortunately, March in North Dakota might as well be February. The roads have been prone to iciness due to the temperature fluctuations and precipitation so I put my grander plans on hold. It’s hard waiting for the spring.

Recently, a Twitter friend mentioned a new bakery in Hillsboro, a town of about 1,600, located less than a half hour north of Fargo on I-29. Our Town Bakery opened early last December. According to this Grand Forks Herald article, the cafe was a community effort. The residents helped Amanda Johnson, the bakery’s owner, save the buildings, built in 1890, from destruction.

Not Your Typical Coffee Shop View

I parked across from towering farm buildings, stopped in a quirky antique store, and almost walked past the bakery whose window was marked with a paper sign. The interior was beautifully remodeled. Exposed brick walls, interesting wooden tables, and a sleek contemporary feel. The bakery counter offered a small selection of treats such as cookies, bars, and turnovers. Shelves to the left of the counter offered homemade marshmallow creations and hinted at freshly, baked bread, although I did not see any that morning.

A whiteboard described the daily lunch special ($8) and soup of the day. I ordered two beef pies, one for me and one for Jake, and sipped on a bottled soda. The pie crust was buttery and flaky, like it had merged with phyllo. Its golden top was thoughtfully sprinkled with salt and pepper, encasing stew that comforted with carrots and tender beef.

I paused to enjoy my pastry. The tables were few and I watched people who appeared to be in a business meeting extend an invitation to share their table with a pair of elderly women. As I returned back to my car, I heard the tinkling of a carillon. I half-heartedly drove in search of its source before rejoining the freeway towards Mayville.

The city of Mayville is about 20 minutes north east of Hillsboro, home of Mayville State University It’s smaller than it’s counterparts in Fargo or Grand Forks, and its total enrollment hovers around 1,000 students. I figured Mayville would have the type of charm that usually accompanies college towns.

I spent my college years in Waverly, IA, a small, rural town along the Cedar River. The campus was surrounded by neighborhoods. We could walk to our favorite bars, a small grocery mart, and a movie theater that treated students to 99¢ cent movies one midnight a month. On these evenings, we marched to the theater in packs. I loved running on the bike trail along the river and we always felt safe. Back then, I resented the smallness of the community and have now grown to miss it.

Mayville is quite a bit smaller than Waverly. About nine times smaller. The main street was dotted with the usual suspects. A pizza joint, drug store, bank, bakery, cafe, and even a small theater. Paula’s Cafe was packed for lunch and I slowed my car down to examine the day’s specials including a hickory burger, roasted ham, and roasted turkey. Since I was full of beef handpie, I made a mental note to return and moved on to the Soholt Bakery.

A woman greeted me as I gazed at the small shop’s products. A sign let me know they did not accept credit cards, so I averted my gaze from loaves of bread and packages of cookies. With two dollars in my pocket, I focused on the smaller treats and settled for a tray of plain donuts.

“How much are they?” I asked.

The woman replied about $2.50 for six or 45¢ each.

“May I have four?” I asked after trying to do some quick mental math.

“Whatever,” she responded in a sing-song voice. “You can have however many you’d like.”

By this time in the afternoon, the donuts were cold. A little dense, a little soggy, with enough crisp left on the outside. They tasted like nutmeg and I found them strangely addicting. I enjoyed them with my next couple morning coffees.

Before I left Mayville, I drove around the campus and admired a stately, red brick building. Maybe it was the winter or the cloudy day, but the town looked tired. I’ll pop back on my grand tour North. Everything looks better in the Spring.

For Your Reading Pleasure: A Few Blogs I Like

Posted on by
2

Greetings to you on this happy Friday.

I’d like to take a moment to share a few blogs that have recently crawled onto my reading list. Most of which, I’ve never referred to in my posts. I like reading these blogs because they are fun, authentic, and most importantly, unpretentious. I hope you enjoy.

Road Tips: A Sales Guy’s Guide to Travel, Food, and Music in the Midwest and Beyond – And Much More
This dude’s been everywhere. His work travels have even taken him deep within the depths of the Midwest that I hold near and dear. This includes my old stomping grounds in Iowa, the greater Twin Cities, outstate Minnesota, and the far reaches of North Dakota. He’s dined in St. Cloud, MN, Newton, IA, and Dickinson, ND. I love that.

He’s often in pursuit of the best burgers and explores a wide variety of independent, family-owned restaurants. His reviews are straightforward and frank. I’m always look forward to reading about the next supper club or tavern that he might visit next.

Find him on Twitter at @RoadTips

Smokin’, Chokin’ And Chowing With The King: All Things Food and Sports With Some Sins and Grins Thrown In
This Chicago-based blogger has also explored the outer reaches of Minnesota. I was captivated by his documentation of road trips through Northern Minnesota and along The Great River Road in Wisconsin. He sent me a tweet mentioning that he likes to go up north in the summers. Like the author of Road Tips, he also focuses on independent, family-owned restaurants. Both explore with the spirit of Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives, minus the obnoxious shtick.

Find him on Twitter at @chibbqking

The Corporate Peon
Katey is a fellow, North Dakotan blogger who shares her life through sassy storytelling that is never, ever, ever boring. No sugar coating here and I find this refreshing.

Find her on Twitter @Katey911

North Dakota Kitchen
You won’t find any sarcasm or sass here. However, you will find that the most wonderful creations come from Shannon’s North Dakota Kitchen. The first page, alone, features homemade cranberry-pomegranate wine and a whimsical cake that looks like a movie theater bag of popcorn. Her photography is lovely and helpful. Plus, she was recently featured in a video produced by the Forum.

Find her on Twitter @shannoniolson

Fat Girl Hedonist: An Honest (Wo)man’s Perspective on Food. Sharing My South Florida Restaurant and Food Adventures
I find myself returning to this South Florida blog. I don’t have a particular connection to South Florida, having only visited Florida a couple times during my childhood. Regardless, I enjoy the author’s down-to-earth and balanced reviews of a diverse array of restaurants. The occasional recipes she tosses in are icing on the cake.

For more blogs I like to read, check out the list located in the column to your right. 

Culinary School Chronicles: The Day We Made Pasta

Posted on by
Reply

Culinary class days are divided into morning and afternoon sessions.

The mornings are considered labs, where we prepare food for the school’s breakfast and lunch services. Afternoons are more like lectures. Last semester, we learned culinary basics in our Introduction course and soups, stocks and sauces in our. . . well. . . soups stocks and sauces class.

Classes are only 50-minutes long, so more involved projects are divided over a course of days. One can sometimes hear a collective sigh when we have to actually cook during our afternoon classes. I would not be completely truthful if I denied sharing this sentiment which strikes me as humorous, since it’s not like we’re in culinary school or anything. These short class slots can transform most any kitchen assignment into its own kind of Hunger Games.

In our rice unit, we chose a partner and picked a variety of rice to cook and share with the class. We were given free reign of the kitchen and pantries to create a recipe of our choice. We steamed basmati rice with caramelized onion, saffron, clove, and cinnamon.

The pasta unit was even more intense. Again, we broke into partners and incorporated homemade pasta into a dish. We were encouraged to spike the pasta dough with anything from pureed wild rice to herbs. My partner and I flavored our dough with sumac and lemon zest. Sumac, the culinary herb, is different than poison sumac. I’ve tasted it sprinkled on Fattoush, Lebanese pita salad, and as part of Zatar, a Middle Eastern spice mixture that often incorporates sesame seeds and thyme. It lends a tangy and lemony flavor.

We rolled the dough through a pasta attachment on a mixer, taking the time to roll it through each of the settings. This created silky, delicate pasta. Rolling the dough through less settings produces thicker noodles. If this is your thing, just cook the noodles longer.

To allow the gentle flavor of the pasta to shine, we served our noodles with browned butter flavored with fresh lemon juice, thyme, and basil.

Near the end of class, everyone convened for a great pasta buffet. One of my favorite pastas was flavored with bacon and cooked spinach and coated it in olive oil, Parmesan cheese, and hot pepper flakes. One group baked their pasta with chicken in tomato sauce while another made pumpkin pasta in a sweet, creamy sauce.

Cooks Notes
I own a small, pasta machine with a hand crank. A mixer attachment makes the process much faster. While it was fun and surprisingly easy to make pasta, it’s not something I’d make on a regular basis at home. You can start the dough by zipping the ingredients together in a food processor, but I think it’s easier and just as efficient to make by hand. 

Pasta

Ingredients:
1 pound bread flour (our teacher said you could incorporate semolina)
Optional: Drizzle of olive oil
5-6 eggs, scrambled
Pinch of salt

Instructions:

  1. Combine the flour with a pinch of salt.
  2. On a flat surface, pour the dry ingredients into a mound and then made a hole in the center.
  3. Pour most of the wet ingredients into the hole. Incorporate the dry ingredients into the wet center with a fork, or use a couple bench scrapers to incorporate.
  4. When the dough begins to form, knead. If the dough seems dry, add the rest of the wet ingredients and if it’s too wet, add more flour.
  5. Scrape away the excess flour and dried bits that form. These should not be incorporated into the pasta dough.
  6. Knead until the pasta dough is elastic and smooth. This should take about 10-15 minutes. The texture is similar to pie dough.
  7. Wrap in a lightly oiled piece of plastic wrap and allow to rest.
  8. Roll out the dough and cut into desired shapes.

An Essay On Bed and Breakfasts

Posted on by
Reply

In my short life, I’ve stayed in a decent number of bed and breakfasts.

As a woman who has traveled solo, I have always felt more comfortable in a bed and breakfast than a hotel. Plus, there’s the food.

I’m not sure why it occurred to me to stay in a bed and breakfast in the first place. Years ago, my family cared for my mom at home while she was in hospice, and I needed a time out. I remember telling my boss at the time that I needed a day off, otherwise I would have a mental breakdown. He replied with something along the lines of, “I don’t want to know. Just go.” He put up with me when I was fresh out of college. I mean, I accidentally lit my computer keyboard on fire and he had to put it out. Instead of firing me, he laughed at me. And then told everyone. He was a saint.

On short notice, I found myself at the now-closed bed and breakfast in Chaska, MN. I hiked through the bluffs on a sunny autumn afternoon, treated myself to dinner, and curled up for the rest of the evening in a pile of library books drinking cream sherry by the tiny glass. Cream sherry was like a revelation to me. It never tastes as good at home. The next morning, I sat alone at a table next to another couple and enjoyed an awkward breakfast of yogurt parfait and eggbake in the dining parlour.

I was thrilled that my tally was only $100 and thus began my ongoing bed and breakfast quest.

The bed and breakfasts I have stayed in have ranged from just fine to delightful. I’ve come to choose inns based upon decor, avoiding frilly lace and dolls like the plague. At a bed and breakfast in outstate Minnesota, my evening was dampered by trying to avoid sleeping in Wookie-sized mattress craters. Snacks have ranged from wheat thins to homemade crackers to freshly baked cookies and tea, to none at all. Eggbakes reign supreme (which I happen to love). One of my favorite dishes was a wild rice quiche while I was less crazy about a cheap, grocery store danish.

Some inns enrich the visit with special touches like cream sherry or chocolates while others feel more like staying at your friend’s grandmother’s. Not that there’s anything wrong with this, except when the price costs the same as those with more perks. I’ve appreciated discounts from making last minute reservations and traveling solo. The rates are set for two people and two breakfasts, so, oftentimes, an inn will eliminate the cost of the second breakfast.

This is all to say that the good have been really, really good, while the others have been ordinary at worst.

Most have forced guests to eat breakfast together at a set time. I have actually found it less awkward to dine around a common table, than to be divided into small tables. As an introvert, this situation brings about an expected degree of anxiety, though I have always found community dining less awkward than expected and mostly enjoyable.

One of my favorite experiences occurred at the Elephant Walk in Stillwater, MN the spring of 2009, five months following my mother’s death. I had found myself in a perplexing relationship and wanted to get away for a night. I packed my stay doing all of the things that made me feel like myself. A perk of traveling solo was having my very own massive cheese plate and bottle of wine that awaited me in my room upon arrival. Homemade crackers, fancy cheeses, fresh fruit, and nuts.

The next morning, I enjoyed a multi-course breakfast with a couple from Chicago. I was gluten-free at that time and Rita, the innkeeper made me homemade, gluten-free muffins. She joined the conversation and we all ended up talking for hours. It was the breakfast where all parties seemed the most mutually invested in the conversation. In a genuine way, not merely making obligatory niceties. As I paid my tally, Rita gently told me that she didn’t think he was the right one. She encouraged me not to give up my dreams of traveling while I sat on her floor and pet her giant, fluffy black cat. She sent me on my way feeling carrying a small travel pouch from Thailand, feeling greatly encouraged.

Three years later, I brought my husband. Being a weeknight in the dead of winter, we got a really good rate. There was only one other couple that night, so we got upgraded to the largest suite with a gas fireplace. Rita and her significant other spend their winters in Thailand and so we met her daughter, Sasha. Her family moves in and manages the inn during the winter months. I told her all about my first visit. She laughed and said she knows her mom loves to dispense advice.

Same giant cheese plate and bottle of wine. This time, I shared. Though, I did not have to share my breakfast. We each enjoyed own elaborately carved pineapple half, freshly baked scone, stuffed french toast with spicy andouille, and flourless chocolate cake. We drank coffee to our hearts’ content over conversation with a couple of chemists.

It’s funny how life can seem to make a full circle. On this morning of a New Year, I try to be thankful for what I have and hopeful for more adventures. After all, we narrowly escaped two apocalypses this year.

I liked the Harold Camping one better. 

My Favorite Locally-Made Treats

Posted on by
Reply

Last month, I wandered into the Pride of Dakota showcase at the Civic Center in Fargo. I had just finished a yoga class and thought I’d breeze through the showcase, not really knowing what to expect.

The Civic Center was filled with vendors selling North Dakotan-made products and services. I was especially pleased that such a large percentage involved food. The rooms were packed with attendees and I quickly gave up my plan to rush through the event. Instead, I resigned myself to joining the thick crowds of people, packed shoulder to shoulder.

The lines were especially busy around the food and beverage vendors but I found that the tastes were worth the wait. Lots of practice in patience.

By the end of my visit, I took home a few items.

Not only was I compelled to buy these items upon first taste, but the vendors were especially gracious. They did not hesitate to offer me samples or tell me more about their products. My appearance makes me look deceptively young and I suspect that this may lead vendors in convention settings not take me too seriously. At one stand, I felt blatantly ignored while the vendor offered samples of delicious looking pot roast to everyone else around me. Needless to say, I didn’t stick around to try it.

The spicy variety of Hunter’s Choice marinade is indeed spicy. Its flavor is Asian-inspired and intense. Sure, I can make my own marinade, but also have no problem stocking high quality versions for days when I could use a boost. The ingredient list didn’t appear to contain artificial ingredients or food additives.

Dot’s Pretzels are addicting. This may have something to do with the fact that MSG is listed  in the middle of the ingredient list. Regardless, I like to grab a handful for a snack after a long day of school and work. Buttery and salty, just to the point of being too salty.

I also picked up a jar of Wild Moon Corn Salsa. The ladies running this stand not only offered samples of their salsa with chips, but incorporated it into dishes they also sampled. This salsa was suggested to me when I asked about their most spicy offering. I can handle a lot more heat but this corn salsa has enough of a kick to hold my interest. The corn kernels provide sweetness that contrast to the tangy and cumin-scented sauce.

Dr. Bop’s Flaxseed Crackers also made an appearance at the showcase. Jake and I have enjoyed these crackers at the Green Market where they adorn the restaurant’s pristine cheese plates. You can buy them at the Green Market. I also picked up a bag at Zandbroz in Downtown Fargo for $5. I like them so much that I suggested them in Simple, Good, and Tasty’s 2012 Local Gift Guide.

I love gifts that I can eat! Do you have any favorite locally-made treats?

Culinary School Update: Welcome To Baking Lab

Posted on by
Reply

It’s been a while since my last culinary school update.

I’m currently in the midst of baking lab. I have grown to love baking so much that it’s hard to imagine I ever thought I’d hate baking lab. The first day was rough, as is usual with most firsts. We had to acclimate to a new set of kitchen tools, baking pans, and equipment. We got assigned to a new cooler and had to chase down a different family of ingredients. Most terrifying, we had to measure.

Whether or not we were supposed to, we got away with a lot of “eyeballing” in salad lab. I followed the recipes closely, for the most part, but eyeballed many measurements. Most of our recipes are written by the cup, while our kitchen is only stocked with pints, quarts, gallons, and scales. Even though I dreaded careful measuring, I have become quite good at it and find comfort in the fact that correct measuring (usually) insures decent baked goods. I’m still tweaking some recipes at home and hope to post them soon. The rest of this semester’s highlights and low lights are summarized in the bullet points below:

  • Repetition takes the anxiety out of most recipes. I love that culinary school is forcing me to make foods I previously avoided out of fear.
  • Industrial kitchen appliances: I have a track record of breaking things, so I was initially nervous about using kitchen appliances. In my own kitchen, I a minimalist. I haven’t owned a food processor or electronic mixer until recently. Last weekend, I bought my first wooden spoon. Now, I appreciate the convenience of the giant proofer, mixing bread dough with a hook, and whipping cream with a whisk attachment. And I haven’t even broken anything (yet). I still prefer cooking and baking in small batches at home where I measure by the cup and knead bread dough by hand. 
  • Learning tips and tricks from our teachers. The other week, the teacher walked me through my first pie dough and later, my first scones. Sometimes their methods are by the book and sometimes they lead us on detours that differ from what I’ve read in books or seen on television. My teachers are graduates from the culinary program, have held many roles in the food industry, and returned to teach. I’m not sure why I’m so surprised when their tricks work, but they always do. We made scones with softer than ice-cold butter in a giant mixer and they were perfectly light and flaky. We also made pie crust in the most unfussy manner and they also turned out light and flaky. It’s nice to know that the baked goods I avoided out of fear can be made without agony or fuss.
  • Diversity of baked goods: The second year students take turns planning the menu, which results in a dizzying array of baked goods and desserts. We’ve made breads such as clover leaf rolls, braided rolls, garlic naan, cheese-stuffed garlic rolls, onion buns, and hot dog buns. The desserts are even more dizzying. Caramel rolls, snickerdoodle brownies, strawberry shortcake, every type of pie, scones with craisens and white chocolate, red velvet cake, churros, and s’mores cheesecake with a bruleed top, just to name a few. For one stretch, I kept finding myself making putzy desserts of graham cracker crusts and multiple layers of fillings made from cream cheese, jello, or pudding mixes. Never felt so Midwestern.
  • I may have a weakness for fried foods but I hate frying: We all had to take turns using the giant donut fryer. I kept expecting oil to splash in my eyes and so my batch of fried dough more closely resembled squiggles and sad O’s than donuts.
  • I enjoy measuring with a bakers scale. I had no idea these were so expensive. We won’t be purchasing one for home-use any time soon.
  • Do-over’s: Everyone’s had to start over at least once and I think many of us made the mistake of getting egg yolk in the egg whites. After my first baking do-over, I only crack one egg at a time into a separate bowl, before adding it to the big pile.
  • Parchment paper rules: After one particularly challenging morning of trying to scrape caramel brownies out of a pan for portioning, I always use parchment paper. Except for angel food cakes.
  • There are different types of yeast: After baking a goofy batch of cinnamon rolls and buns that inflated to the size of children’s bowling balls, we figured out that I was using an excessive amount of yeast. For example, there’s active dry yeast, instant yeast, and fresh yeast, which are measured differently. Lesson learned.