Category Archives: Food And Drink

The problem with restaurants

Most of the week my food comes from My fit foods.  I discovered these prepackaged fresh meals a couple of years ago and they’ve really helped me by preparing fresh and healthy meals without me having to hunt in the supermarket for something to eat or in desperation turning to fast food joints. They’ve really have helped me not only cut calories but also cut the time I waste on preparing food.

Notice I said most of the time.  I have to admit that the selection can get a bit monotonous at times.  It sometimes gets to be that I’ve memorized the menu by heart and I start pestering the staff as to when the new menu will come out.  So sometimes I will take the time to make something at home.

But the weekends come and I find myself getting a little stir crazy.  I work at home and I find that I see way too much of the house sometimes.  So I go out to do something on the weekends (or sometimes the weeknight, but mostly the weekends).  Inevitably this will involve eating at some restaurant at some point.

Deciding where to go becomes a chore.  Someone in the group had Thai yesterday so that’s out and someone else hates Italian and someone wants spicy but not too spicy.  This turns into a UN treaty session with concessions given here and promises made there until some deadline comes up and everyone decides upon the least favorite but least objectionable choice.  We have peace in our times.

After that comes the problem of finding some place to sit.  Of course everyone in Houston wants to be out at the same time and wherever we go there’s usually a line or some sort of wait and you usually end up sitting by the kitchen or the bathroom and as it is so popular every other table is a family table with screaming kids.

Then comes the hard part of sorting through the menu.  You find yourself with the dilemma of wanting to eat food “A” but it comes with side dish “B” and they absolutely won’t do substitutions or you get a mountain of carbs in every spoonful no matter what you order.

Of course if you plan another activity later on you suddenly find yourself on the clock trying to shovel food in your mouth to make it to the thing (show, play, movie, party) on time.

Oh and if you decide to go out by yourself you get the occasional look from others “Why is he sitting by himself?”  Though to be honest that only happened to me once when the hostess, then the waiter, and lastly a manager came over and asked me if I was waiting for someone else to join me and none of them seemed too convinced when I said no.

Doesn’t make for the most pleasant of experiences.  But like I said, sometimes you have to break the work cycle monotony and any alteration of the routine is welcome.

My ideal restaurant would be something small, something that not many people knew about and something that prepared the meal the way that I wanted it prepared.  Come to think about it the best restaurant is at home.

Foodie city

Reading through the local newspaper and Houston websites I see that I’ve probably picked the worst time to get in shape and lose weight.  I read through websites like the Houston Press or magazines like Houstonia and there are always announcements about new restaurants and how up and coming chefs are migrating here.

Back in my twenties when I was just starting out we did have a bit of a food scene if you knew where to look for it.  Areas like the west side Chinatown offered up a variety of Asian dishes.  The Tex-Mex restaurant has always been a staple of Houston cuisine and we had some of the best.  Of course we also had the traditional steak restaurant.

But back then if you were to name cities to visit to experience haute cuisine or just a wider variety of dishes then Houston never even came up in the conversation.

Something happened back in the late-late nineties or early 00’s.  Here and there a chef would escape the rat races in other food towns and set up little bistros in Houston.  Not in the downtown area but near downtown where the rent was cheaper.  Chefs that might have otherwise left stayed and honed their skills.  Certainly Hurricane Katrina injected a dose of New Orleans talent into the mix.

By trial and error, by enthusiastic practice this city began building a reputation one dish at a time.

So here we are and I see that the wave is beginning to crest.  I have to admit that sometimes the temptation is overwhelming.  Just looking at the variety and quantity of places to explore makes me want to take a week or two off my diet.

Thankfully (I suppose) living out in the suburbs I don’t have ready access to these culinary wonders.  I’m not hours away from any of these places of course (I could in fact reach most of these in twenty minutes) but just far enough to put them in the slightly impractical column.

I console myself with the thought that I am working towards a worthwhile goal and that one day I will treat myself to a mini restaurant vacation.

My cooking nightmare

[Author’s note:  This is a reprinted article from Thanksgiving 2007.]

Well my parents are out-of-town for the holiday but of course everyone expects food and no one was making the offer to cook so with less than a week to go I made a decision.  On an errant whim (and fueled by overconfidence borne out of watching too many episodes of Gordon Ramsay’s Cooking nightmares on BBC) I decided to fill in and cook the family Thanksgiving dinner this year.

A totally traditional menu.  The turkey of course, homemade stuffing, freshly made cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, veggies, gravy, cornbread muffins, and pies.

I got a thanksgiving cooking book and started shelling out big bucks at the local supermarket for the best stuff I could get my hands on.  First thing to look at was the oven.  Which I didn’t.

Wrestling a 20 pound turkey into a tray and tying up the legs and buttering it up and hoping that it doesn’t fall on the floor.  Keeping it cool but not cold overnight.  I got up at 5 and started the day.  The oven turned out to be underpowered. Luckily I started the turkey at 6.  Lucky cause at noon it still wasn’t done.  Didn’t help I suppose that I was looking in on it every five minutes.

The cranberries were the best.  Cranberries with raspberry preserves with a hint of lemon, and cinnamon.  Well worth the couple of bubbles of cranberry sauce that burped and scalded my arm with blazing hot cranberry goo.

The potatoes were another matter.  My level of respect for my mother took a huge leap.  It’s no wonder that peeling potatoes is a punishment in the army.  I find it remarkable that I didn’t slice my fingers up with all that peeling.

The stuffing was touch and go.  I added the bread along with poultry spices, chicken stock, pecans, raisins and sausage.  It looked like old oatmeal, but I gave it a stir and it passed it through the oven to give it a golden brown color.

Around noon I got desperate and cranked the oven to 500 degrees.  After half an hour I took the bird out and made the gravy.

Ideally the veggies were supposed to have been freshly chopped and prepared but while I was shopping I looked and considered and I knew I wouldn’t have the time.  Frozen.  Hopefully fresh next time.

The pies, jeeeeeez, the pies.  One can of pumpkin, cinnamon, nutmeg, and brown sugar.  The sweet potato pie.  Yet more peeling.  Boiling them and then mashing them.  More spices but with orange juice added.  They took so long I was jumping up and down at the dinner table checking on them and they came out just in time.

By comparison the cornbread muffins were a breeze.  They had to share the oven with the pies but they got done faster.

In between everything running into the dining room and setting things up.

Round 5 in the afternoon running to change out of the food smeared clothes and washing up cause promptly at 6 everyone arrived.  Three brothers, my sister, my sister-in-law, and 4 nieces and nephews.  My sister and sister-in-law helped clean up and I lucked out that the dishwasher didn’t have a mental breakdown.

I don’t know how mom does this every year, and I can understand why she gets touchy afterwards.

Maybe pizza next year.

backsliding

It’s amazing how easy it is to slip back into old habits and how seductive it is to consider returning to the old patterns of life.

Last week I ran into some “friends” I knew from way back in the 90’s.  These were some people who I knew from the clubs in the glory days of the Richmond strip area when it competed with Washington Avenue as the place to party in Houston.

Very friendly folk, they immediately began telling me about their lives since those days and about other people they we all knew.  They said I should really check back in with the clubs and bars and see what was going on.  I was half tempted to as I hadn’t been back to those haunts in ages.  That’s when it happened.

They began with all the gossip, all the petty rivalries, all the “dirt” about people we mutually knew.  Suddenly I remembered why I had left the club scene back then.

Bad habits are so easy to get back into.  The temptation to let it go and fall back into them is so overwhelming at times.  But it’s not just with people.  Set a pack of cookies or donuts near me for a day and see what happens to them.

A little voice in the back of my head quietly and quite reasonably asks “What’s the harm?  Why not just go back to what you know best?  Why go through the regimented diet, the exercise, all the hassle?”

I think back to three years ago (no, nearly 4 now) and how I felt back then.  The listless days of trying to fill in the hours between meals, the lack of useful purpose and the lack of direction that I had allowed myself to fall into.  I was living exclusively for the moment.  Don’t get me wrong, I got plenty of things done but it was all done without any plan or done on the spur of the moment.

But it’s more than just getting myself fit and getting my life in order.  There’s an old Aggie poem (yes, they do exist) that in part goes:

Fond memories bring a sigh — but nothing more;
Now we are men and life’s a greater thrill,

Reliving those old moments is pleasurable, for a moment at least.  But it’s not the type of life that I want for myself these days.  Thinking about it, I would not feel that it would satisfy me and I would feel forever miserable now that I’ve experienced more.

The way back no longer exists.  The path forward is the only way to go.

cooking up a storm

[Author’s note:  This is an edited and expanded version of a note that I wrote back in 2007.  My diet no longer allows me to eat this way except for special occasions.  Some days I think that more’s the pity]

I’ve been dicing garlic and onions.  Cutting the potatoes and bell peppers length wise and chopping parsley.  Now comes the meat.  Am I in over my head?

Maybe it’s because of the cold January weather or maybe it’s pure nostalgia but I was sitting on the couch flipping through the TV channels early on a Saturday morning when I settled on the cooking network and they had Paula Deen cooking some recipes from her childhood when I suddenly got the whim to make something myself.

With the cold wind and the gloomy weather I decided to try my hand at an “Ajiaco“.  This is a Chilean soup (or possibly it may be considered a broth) for cold weather days and this miserable day certainly qualified.  I looked on Google for a recipe.  At first I wasn’t even sure how to even spell it but I found something that sounded familiar and I printed out a recipe list and headed out to HEB, the local supermarket.

The store has been open for less than an hour.  I picked up all the stuff needed for the recipe and on a whim a bottle of wine.

Problem.

Apparently you can’t buy wine this early in the morning.  Stupid law.  So I put it back and take off with the rest of the items and pass by Whataburger to get a breakfast taco to tide me over while I cook.

Chilean cooking can be at best described as comfort food and at worst it’s a dietician’s nightmare.  Simple preparation, simple ingredients, and lots of it. One particular dish comes to mind, “Bisteq a lo pobre”, or poor man’s steak.  This is a plate that comes with:  A steak, rice, fried onions, french fries, sausage, beans, chimichurri sauce, and is topped off by a fried egg (or two), all for one person.

Remember that this is a country that until fifty years ago was primarily composed of miners, farmers, fishermen, and ranchers.  Not people who are looking for subtle hints of flavors, or small portions, or impressive plating techniques.  Just serve it all up with a large glass of red wine and keep it coming.

Urban Chileans rarely eat this way anymore.  Although restaurants do exist that cater to this type of home cooking, it is becoming harder to find and in some circles it is frowned upon as a relic of the past.

Back to the recipe.  I’ve cut the meat into long strips and placed it in the broiler to brown it.  Most of the cooking will take place on the stove top.

In a pot I put the onions and garlic with some butter to brown and soften.

Or burn.

I turn round for literally a second and I swear the damn thing is smoldering already.  My mother always called electric stove tops “treacherous appliances that can’t be trusted”  She swears by her gas stove top.  More likely though she would prefer to go back to the wood burning stove that her mother cooked on and that she grew up with.  Thinking of that reminds me of when I was a little kid and would be home from school, sick.  My mother would sometimes let me watch shows like “The frugal gourmet” or “Great chefs of New Orleans” with her on the local PBS station.  Fond memories.

It’s not quite ruined but I do remove some of the worst blackened bits.  I think it can still be saved.  I add cumin and oregano and three cans of beef stock and three cans of water.  Then come the potatoes and the strips of beef.  Now to let it simmer and wait.  About 20 minutes in and I add the bell pepper strips.  More waiting.

I remove the lid and look in the pot.  Doesn’t quite look like I remember.  Thinking about it now, I think this is sort of like a Pho but with potatoes instead of noodles.  Almost forgot to add the parsley.

The potatoes are soft so they must be done.  I taste the broth.  Definitely not mother’s cooking but then again what is.  This is a common complaint among all humanity.  No one, no matter who it is will ever replicate your mother’s cooking.  Nostalgia is that one ingredient that is missing any recipe and that can’t be bought in any supermarket for any price.

I shrug and ladle it up.  On a cold miserable day like today it’s welcome in my stomach.

I do wish I could replicate some of her more complicated recipes like the desserts.  She would take a can of condensed milk and on the embers of a dying barbecue let it slowly cook overnight.  The result was a caramel like jam that she would spread liberally on one side of a sponge cake mass and then she would carefully roll it up into a roll and slice and serve with powdered sugar.  It’s called “brazos de reina” or Queen’s arms in Spanish.

Maybe one day I will be able to cook like this.

reviving my palate

Earlier in the week I got corralled into going to a fast food place by one of my relatives. I’ve avoided fast food places like the plague for the last year and a half.  Not my idea of good food but I had no choice in the matter.  I didn’t want to be rude.  So I ordered something that I used to order.  The basic burger, french fries, and a drink.

I should have been rude.

The unsweetened ice tea was basically just muddy water with little to no resemblance to tea, yet it was the highlight of the meal.  The fries tasted like oil soaked cardboard.  Correction, salt covered and oil soaked cardboard.But the main impression was that of eating oil.

The burger merits its own paragraph.  A sad, wilted green leaf masqueraded as lettuce.  The pale red slice of vegetable may have been a tomato at one time.  The meat if it could be called that gave only a cursory performance as something that might be edible.  The only recognizable part of the meal were the hamburger buns.  They were most definitely made from processed flour.

I couldn’t finish it.  I put it back in the sack.  It made me feel slightly ill afterwards.  How was I able to stomach this for so many years?  How did my taste buds get so jaded that they found this edible for all those years?

This Friday I decided to erase that taste from my lips.  I went to one of my favorite restaurants.  I’ve known about Kasra’s Persian grill for over ten years and it has maintained its high quality standards by preparing simple food using high quality ingredients and not trying to skimp on the cooking process.

As I sit down the busboy delivers a fresh and hot taftoon bread along with a plate of herbs, goat cheese, and radishes.

I started with a basic black tea brewed from tea leaves and served in glass cups with real sugar cubes.

Along with this a Persian salad.  This is just diced cucumbers, tomatoes, and onion with some spice and a vinaigrette sauce.  Everything is fresh.  Probably just prepared within the last hour.  The cucumbers and the tomatoes vie with each other trying to prove which one is sweeter.  The onion adds a lovely kick.  A little bit of lemon juice elevates the salad to nirvana.

I could end the meal right there and be happy.  But the entree is just as divine in its own way.  Chenjeh is basically just chunks of grilled sirloin.  When you get a good steak then you really don’t need to spice it to make it taste good.  Most people make the mistake of getting their steak well done.   This robs the meat of its flavor and turns it into a hard burnt chewy mass.  I understand the health reason for getting steaks done well done but hey, I eat sushi so I’m willing to take the gamble.  Always get your steaks done medium, you will see what I mean.

Alongside this comes the grilled veggies.  Zucchinis, squash, onions, and tomatoes.  Just singed with grill marks on both sides.  Crisp and crunchy and full of their own flavors.  Basmati long grain rice with a crisp, clean, almost nutty aroma.  I can taste each element of the meal.  They complement each other perfectly.

Well prepared ingredients without a hint of preservatives and cooked in a healthy way.  I realize that every meal can’t be this good but does everyday food have to be bad?  Can’t we insist on good fresh food?  Do we have to rely on salt to make things palatable?

Try it yourself.  Get off the junk food wagon for a month and then try a fast food meal and you’ll see what I mean.

the new paradigm

What would the 20something me have thought?  Sitting in a quiet cafe, hanging out with a friend, drinking tea, and just talking on an afternoon counts as a good time?  Impossible!

But it’s true.  The days of hitting the bars and clubs are long since gone.  Noise for noise sake really.  I don’t totally disdain the experience.  I was a different person back then and my priorities were different.  Young people generally want excitement.  I wanted to live all of life as much and as quickly as possible.  This meant going clubbing, finding new restaurants, doing whatever I was told was the most desirable experiences out there.  I doubt that the younger me would find my current life appealing.

But one day I found myself in that similar situation and had this feeling that I had lived this exact same moment over and over again.  I’ve written in a previous post that “when it’s time to go, it’s time to go”.  By this I mean that we may indeed try to keep a situation going by reapplying ourselves with more vigor and for a time we may succeed but sometimes it’s best to save our energy and move on.  That’s where I was in the mid 2000’s.

Over time I have come to appreciate the simpler pleasures that life affords us and what I am doing now gives me a feeling of satisfaction and joy that I never felt before.  Some would call this maturing or growing up.  I just accept it as part of who I am now.

These moments of simple pleasure are all too rare an experience given work schedules, family pressures, and whatnot but I aim to take advantage of this rare experience as much as I can.

Quality vs. Luxury

I have previously posted my thoughts on quality vs. quantity.  This is a continuation of that train of thought but focused more towards the other side of the spectrum.

While I disdain luxury I do recognize that some higher level items are built and designed better than common things.  Some of these things I don’t disparage.

Computers for example.  Pretty central to my life.  How sad is that?  It’s pretty much essential for my work and a good portion of life now revolves around leveraging the resources that the internet provides to make my life better.  While it’s easy and tempting to get the cheapest machine possible, I have to keep some things in mind.  I want to get the longest service life possible out of this machine.  Getting a clearance priced machine on its way out is cheating myself out of that service life.  Also back in the day when I used to game I needed a pretty up to date machine to keep up with the graphics.  I don’t splurge on unnecessary things such as surround sound or 27 inch monitors but I do get good graphics and processing speed.  These are key to making sure my computer will be with me a long time.

Cars are another thing I feel strongly about.  I took six months to research my last purchase.  Very possible that in the beginning of the year I will begin a search for a new car.  But let’s wait and see on that.  I road-tested various models from PT Cruisers to Mercedes before settling on the Dodge Charger.  Now, The Mercedes C class sports sedan is a very fine automobile.  Technically there is nothing wrong with it.  The couple of times that I have driven one I have found them to be excellent.  But the thing is, how much am I paying for quality and how much am I paying for a name?  In the end I felt I could get the quality that I was looking for in a cheaper direction.

Even food has entered the equation.  My fit foods has recently opened up in my neighborhood.  This is high-end nutrition with a focus on getting healthy and keeping healthy.  At first I balked at the price; anywhere from $5 to $8 per meal.  But then consider that this easily falls in line with the price of junk food meals out there.  I am getting food that is good for me, that is prepared and ready to heat and eat, that takes calories into account, and most importantly it tastes good.  I don’t have to cook all the time and I don’t have to resort to fast food if I find myself in a time crunch situation.

Things like Rolex watches, name brand suits or shoes, or jewelry I don’t see the point in those.  Things like high quality smartphones, tablets, cars, and foods I do find to be worth my while.  I don’t see these as useless luxuries but things that add value to my life.

 

too much or too good

The classic conundrum of quantity vs quality.

Which is better or at least more preferable?  For most of my life it was quantity.  Particularly in food.  For example at the office, my reasoning was why go out of my way for quality food?  I mean it’s just another lunch right?  So Wendy’s, Quiznos, Mickey D’s, Taco Hell, and KFC and then rinse and repeat in a slightly different order the next week.  So I wouldn’t get sick of it.

But I was sick of it.  Thinking about it, I constantly complained about the food at work.  I told my boss, my co-workers, the girl at the fast food cash register.  But I never did anything about it.  Bring in my own?  HA!  That would make things worse.

The same thing happened in other aspects of my life that I didn’t deem all that important.  I would generally take the cheap mass quantity option rather than holding out or looking for something of better quality.

On the few occasions that things really did matter to me I would take the time and make the effort to find something of quality that would last a long time and serve me well.  Cars and computers being the prime example.

Generally it takes me around six months of researching and looking around until I settle on a new car and for the most part they have lasted for a long time and given me really good service.  Same deal with computers.  So why wasn’t I doing that for the rest of my life?

The little decisions like lunch, or clothes, or experiences, or friends.  They may seem common place but they actually have a great effect on how you live your life.  I mean I could waste my life going to bars and hang out with barfly buddies every Friday and Saturday night and have the same old stale conversations all the time or go to a museum, a play, a coffee-house, a festival somewhere outside of town.  Sure I don’t have a big group of people around me anymore but the few people I do, I really like.  They greatly enhance my life.

In the same way I have dropped the fast food habit and switched over to healthier meals.  I find that I pay slightly more for them than the junk food but the results are much better for me.  I don’t complain about the food anymore and I feel more energetic afterwards as well as getting this feeling that I’m doing something positive in my life every day.

My television lies idle more and more.  I no longer find it satisfactory to lie in front of it and let it hypnotize me to sleep each night.  More I think of it, the more I want to cancel my cable TV plan.  I try not to pick up just any book to read anymore but rather find things worth reading.

I find all these yearnings within me to make fundamental changes in my life to make that life better, not just to have more things in it.  It’s taking time but I find that if I slow down and make more careful choices that I can slowly begin to improve my lot in life one carefully chosen step at a time.

 

 

 

 

cross-pollination

Earlier this year I was driving around running some errands and I had the car radio tuned to NPR.  A lecture had just begun.  I was just about to my destination but I kept on driving because the topic was so interesting.  I soon put on another 20 miles aimlessly driving around and listening to the lecture for the next hour.

Mainly it dealt with the rise of the modern age and how it been so shocking when it arrived in 1913.

One of the topics covered in the lecture was the cross-pollination of many different fields and how they inspired or altered one another to create new ideas and new concepts.

Artists read evolutionary theory and it inspired them to try out different styles of painting, music, and dance.  Doctors looked at the art and started thinking about mental illness and conditions in a different ways.  Scientists consulting artists and vice versa.  Architects, engineers, political theorists.  So many different fields intersecting, altering, and redefining themselves.

Now I look at our contemporary world (saying modern world would not be technically correct).  We have got to be the most interconnected people in history.  Yet we do so little with it.  Sure there are online groups for everything and anything you care to mention but they’re so insular sometimes.  They have their own rules, their own interests, own languages and coming in as an outsider is not always easy.

TED talks you say?  The TED talks are a series of global conferences that attempt to bring attention to new ideas and provide a platform for people with new ideas to spread those ideas.  If you have a day or two to spare, look them up on YouTube.

It’s a noble effort but I have seen in the last years that the TED talks are moving in the direction of becoming merely entertainment opportunities for the geeky.

Real cross-pollination happens when people from diverse disciplines come together without expectations, without agendas, and with an open mind ready to listen to one another.

An evening spent in a cafe just talking.  Gathering round a fireplace and chatting with friends with a cup of tea.  Being in the backyard with a couple cold ones and letting the late afternoon turn to early evening.

Food and beverage seem to play a role in the creative process.  As I recall Compaq computers was founded by two engineers sitting down at the House of Pies

Perhaps it’s because the activity of sharing a meal or a drink makes the mind a little more relaxed and receptive.  You may think to yourself that no matter what else happens you will at least get some food or drink out of the process.

I try to keep up with people from different walks of life.  From different perspectives.  Sometimes I don’t like what I hear, many times I don’t understand.  But I am always willing to listen