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Here is a fried chicken recipe that my dad made for me once when I was little. It makes the meat look like a lollipop. This recipe is good for the children that always want the salt, not the sweet snack, so in this case, this substitutes well for the candy apple or the lollipop. This also satisfies any “food on a stick” craving you might have since the drumstick has it’s own built-in stick. You must use drumstixxx for this recipe or the drumette (wing drumstick).
First you have to brine your chicken. This only entails dumping your raw chicken into a pot of cold water and adding some salt and sugar to it. Let it soak for as long as you have patience for (at least an hour, up to a day). After doing so, strain your meat in a colander.
Next is where the MAGIC happens. Cut around the bone towards the bottom, and then PULL the meat UP to separate the meat from the bone. I remember my dad was able to flip it inside out, but maybe I was dreaming.
The batter I used to fry this chicken was actually just a simple pancake batter with added honey, salt, pepper, and chopped parsley. Any instant pancake mix is good, like bisquik or jiffy or generic.
Also, I like to toss the raw chicken in a plastic bag with some flour in it to soak up any moisture on the surface of the skin so that the batter sticks to it better.
Heat up a pan to get ready to DEEP FRY. Fill the pan up with enough oil so that the chicken can be submerged HALFWAY, allowing for longer cooking time.
Here we go! Hold the drumstick by the bone and DIP IT! SWIRL that shit AROUND!!! (Just the ball of meat in the batter, keep that bone DRY.)
And then deep fry the shit out of it!
Cooking chicken takes a long time, so have patience. Thorough cooking is important especially with sketchy chicken farming, diseases, and bird flu being very popular! Cook the chicken for about 8 minutes on one side, the flip it over and do the same at a low-medium flame.
Here is the result! It’s fried chicken but weird. Very tasty dipped in honey and sriracha. ENJOY!
found this on neatorama (or should i say meatorama?…anyone?) today. It’s a house made out of sausage, bacon and breadcrumbs.
’nuff said.
click here for the recipe and a step by step gallery.
this past weekend jacq, myself, and one trevor steels went to new brunswick (new jersey) to check out our friends’ band orenthal james, who were playing at some bar with some other bands.
after getting lost and almost entering pennsylvania (thanks google maps!), we finally got into into new brunswick after about 2 hours (it should only be about an hour trip). surly and hungry, my eyes widened as off in the distance i saw a parking lot wth what looked like a trailer park/shanty town consisting of about 4 or 5 food trucks situated in one corner. could these be the fabeled grease trucks that id heard all about? birthplace of the fat darrel , the wonder sandwich consisting of chicken fingers, mozzerella sticks, french fries, marinara sauce and/or mayonnaise, lettuce, tomatoes and onions on a sub roll, and considered by maxim magazine as the greatest sandwich in the country?
yes. yes they are.
immediately throwing out the immediate plans to meet up with our friends at a house nearby, i turn into the parking lot and speed walked over to the courtyard of red and white (rutgers’ colors) grease trucks. it was a little early in the evening (8?) and only two of the 5 trucks were open. i breezed through the menu of the one truck where i saw such magnificent combinations as philly cheesesteak with chicken fingers, french fries, and barbecue sauce and names such as the “fat dom” and “fat koko”. and even better, these cholesterol beasts, or “fat sandwiches” as theyre called, were only $5 each. awesome. awesome i tell myself, but i dont want to get all crazy too fast, so i walked over and checked out the menu for the other truck that was open and to my surprise the entire menu was the same as the first. everything, from the names and ingredients of the sandwiches to the prices and the pictures of drunk rutgers students decorating the exterior. both trucks were run by what appeared to be arabic guys, and they didnt seem to be in competition to each other as they all yelled to each other and, well, sold the same shit. as if one day they all just concluded “well, these drunk college kids just want to eat these ridiculous sandwiches so why bother competing? theres enough drunk kids for all of us to get rich!” or, as is the case with many a bodegas situated next to each other, the same dudes probably own both or all of the trucks. i dont know, either way, they all sold the same shit, and i thought that was weird.
i went back to the first truck and went through the menu again and suddenly, i found myself doing something weird: considering my health. now not too toot my own horn, but cholesterol and the like have never intimidated me for i have tackled such heart-destroying foods from deep fried pizza to double chili cheese dogs (and as of last summer, my cholesterol is surprisingly on the level). but now, i was thinking twice. did i dare put up to 3 kinds of fried food into my body, let alone fried food topped with more fried food topped with cheese? i hestitated, i thought, and i went with what i thought was a safe choice (read: wussed out): the fat sop (soprano): chicken fingers, bacon, red sauce, and white sauce (the same they use at halal carts). jacq got cheesy eggs on french fries. we stood and waited as other kids ordered their foods and soon jacq’s eggs were ready. i told the dude that i was paying for both and soon enough a sandwich plopped down on the counter and the guy said “fat something or other”. basicallly, something i didnt understand. but seeing how i ordered after jacq, i figured it was my sandwich, grabbed it, and paid.
i was wrong.
we got to the house we were meeting people at and i couldnt escape the smell of ketchup coming from my sandwich. what the fuck? my sandwich didnt have ketchup on it unless thats what they pass for “red sauce” in new jersey. no, i peaked and i saw french fries. tons of french fries. ok i grabbed someone else’s sandwich but whatever, im gonna eat this thing. this must be the work of god. we walked inside and i immediately went to the nearest table to look at what i had: a hoagie roll filled with cheeseteak meat, chicken fingers, mozzerella sticks, and french fries topped with ketchup. lordy. well, i was starving so i dug in and at first i thought “ok, not bad”, but the more i ate the less impressed i got. the melange of fried food all kind of blended together, as i couldnt distinguish between slightly cold mozzarella stick and slightly cold chicken finger. and the fries were too much filler. i finished it, but it was only so so id say, which upon analysis could only make sense. i mean, for $5, and coming out of a truck, they cant be using top notch ingredients, right? jacq said her eggs were great however.
the show was at a bar called the court tavern which was fairly sized and had lots of wood paneling. the only thing i really have to say is that its always a pleasant reminder how cheap things are outside of new york ($1.50 budweisers until 10pm, where they went up to a staggering $3). the show was pretty good.
after the show, we had acquired more passengers for the ride back to brooklyn and along with those passengers, some empty stomachs. so back to the grease trucks we go…
this time around i told myself and others that i wasnt hungry but jacq coerced me into sharing something with her, so i figured this time id get my fat soprano. only i didnt want bread because that was too much food so we went with the next best thing, french fries. chicken fingers, bacon, hot sauce and white sauce on french fries. now putting things on french fries isnt an option offered on the menu, but these guys seem to be willing to accomodate almost any request seeing how their popularity is based on accomodating some dude’s request for a crazy sandwich. wrapped in foil with 2 forks stuck in it, we carried our customized fat soprano back to the car and dug in. now this was good. everything was pretty hot and the hot sauce and white sauce made for some good flavor, as did the random strips of bacon, and im pretty sure i didnt like this more just because i was drunk. everyone else enjoyed their fat sandwiches (which at certain points were being topped with ice cream), and we made it back to brooklyn full, sleepy, and happy.
so if youre ever in new brunswick, new jersey and you want to delve into local cuisine, ask where the grease trucks are or head to the nearest deli (where apparently they make the same sandwiches). while the concept of the sandwiches is pretty mindblowing, in the end you get what you get: truck food. and dont get me wrong, i love truck food (read my foodpart bio), but a lot of times these trucks and carts use the same frozen fries/chicken/etc, and you get just that: frozen french fries/chicken, etc that might have been sitting out for a while. but whatever, this is the drunk food of dreams and if i lived withint 5 miles of these things id be in the valley of the grease trucks on a regular basis.
and probably weigh 250lbs.
Steve. 
Dave. (Me.)
Sunday night, after a tiring day of serving soul food to librarians, I met up with Steven J. Probert at La Cave Du Vin in Coventry, for some libation. I like the wine bar because it seems the only place near my home, where I can go for a beer without having to watch John Carrol’s class of 2010 grope each other to Nickelback and Carlos Santana’s musical chud baby. There are no wing specials, but there is brie; which makes me a happy camper. And now that Dana Hardy has joined the ranks of their alcohol cognoscenti, I am there a lot. This of course means that I am drinking lots of fancy, fancy beer. On this particular visit, after drinking one of my personal favorites, the Aventinus Doppelbock, I decided to take a look at their seasonal beer list. It was there that I spied, “SAUSAGE BEER!!”
Calling to me like some meat beacon I had to try it.
This beer is made in Germany, is still tapped from old wooden barrels, and has been produced the same way since 1678! I have to say this stuff does indeed taste just like a Pepperidge Farm Christmas sausage thats been soaking in some beer. The flavor comes from a process where in the actual barley that the beer is brewed from is smoked, and then brewed, giving it that distinctive meaty flavor down deep. Steve, mostly a vegetarian, did not want to try my beer. All in all, not as good as eating some sausage, but damn close. Thanks Wine Cave for bringing me a confusing and delicious experience.
so last night jacqueline and i went to celebrate a special occasion at mas (farmhouse). recommended by a coworker of mine, i did some online reading and it seemed like an interesting enough place to check out.
helmed by “rising star chef” Galen Zamarra and located in new york’s west villagee, mas is a fairly upscale yet casual (their recommended attire is “elegant casual) restaurant dealing mainly in contemporary french/american fare. however the main draw for me is their use of only local organically farmed ingredients and their menu, which changes daily. upon arrival we walked into a pretty hushed and calming environment. warmly lit, the interior was modern yet rustic, with a lot of clean edges and simplistic shapes contrasted by rustic elements: wood, stone, pillows embroidered with hearts and deer. one of my favorite details were the serving plates at the table, which were white with a branch painted in red on it which continued off the plate to the candle holder in the center. i am a nerd.
we started off with some wine. i had a glass of pinot noir from oregon and jacq had some white wine from i dont remember. i like wine, red wine specifically, but i honestly dont know the first thing about wine except for the fact that i like red wine. so with that being the case, i liked my wine.
after being served some french rolls with a glob of amazing butter, we ordered. we started it off with a yellowfin tuna appetizer, and i went with the trout with brussel sprouts and root vegetable medleywhile jacq went with the lobster with ricotta spätzle & wild chanterelle mushrooms. they offer a pre-fixe dinner with an optional wine pairing, but we decided to just go the traditional route.
the dinner started with amuse, which was a shrimp and crab salad topped with a vinaigrette. having never eaten in a place that started with an amuse, i thought it was our appetizer and for a split second was like “what the fuck” because this shit was small. like the size of my thumbnail small. however after the server explained what it was, i was pumped because i had never eaten in a place with an amuse before. it as nice and simple, palate cleansing, and a nice way to start things.
next up was the Yellowfin Tuna l’Occidental, which was served sashimi style, topped with a “beurre noisette”, crisped shallots, and what looked like clovers. being a big fan of sushi and tuna, i loved this appetizer. the tuna was fresh and flavorful, while the crispy shallots added a little crunch and bitterness. i would honestly go back just to eat this appetizer.
next up was the entree, with my trout being cooked whole and cut in half and jacq’s lobster being shelled and piled nicely on top of the spätzle and the black huitlacoche puree dripped on the sides of the dish. now i originally was leaning towards the lobster, but because i wanted to keep with my “going outside of my comfort level because im in a place that is supposed to serve good food and its not like i eat here everyday” i went with the trout. which is odd because trout is also a pretty safe choice but since i rarely go with fish as an entree (unless its fried), i figured why not. and while im not saying it was bad, it was what i expected: fish. white fish that didnt taste too different from what my mom and aunts make (head and all!). it may have been a little much of me to expect a mindblowing trout dish, but whatever.
jacq’s lobster on the other hand was succulent and firm, and pretty much what you would expect from a lobster dish. the huitlacoche puree was a subtle yet very distinct compliment to the lobster and spätzle. i should have gone with the lobster.
for dessert we got a pecan tart in phyllo dough topped with chocolate ice cream and caramel. put simply enough, it was pretty amazing. the soft creamy house-made ice cream went well with the crunchy phyllo and chewy pecan at the bottom. it was sweet (pun intended).
following out dessert came the “final taste” which if i recall was an almond and chocolate maccaroon that looked like a tiny hamburger. that was also pretty good.
upon leaving and thinking about my trout, i started thinking about something i heard on a david cross standup which i usually think about after i eat at a nice restaurant: was it worth it? and in this case, i would only have to say maybe. or maybe “i guess”? the service was amazing (not pretentious at all) and tentative, the bread was great, the appetizer was fantastic, the dessert was awesome, but my trout…was trout. not bad, but nothing great either.
is this place worth checking out? sure. id really like to check out the pre-fixe menu at some point, and the atmosphere is fancy and almost romantic yet casual enough that bjork and the shins were playing in the background. the food was fresh and good, and there were tons of wines and drinks to choose from. just get something a little more adventerous than the trout.
