Great Food Isn't Just Good Taste

I was reminded last night that great food isn't just about taste. Oh, things have to taste good but it takes more than that.  Really great food involves all five of our senses. Of course there's taste, but sight, smell, touch and hearing all play a role in making for a special meal.

It's only been in the last several years that the concept of food presentation has made an impression on me. As you might guess, I spend a lot of my free time vegging out in front of the Food Network or the Cooking Channel.  One of my favorite shows is Iron Chef.

What makes this so interesting is the combination of the time limit and the "surprise" of the Secret Ingredient. Two accomplished chef's battle each other to present a series of plates that are scored on the basis of taste, presentation and originality in the use of the secret ingredient.

Somehow they need to deliver this with "Smell-o-Vision." That's not to say that everything should come with "Smell-o-Vision" because some of the episodes of Hoarders or the hillbilly hand fishing shows appear to have some pretty ripe smells. But for cooking shows it's one thing to see it but something entirely different to experience it. 

(I wonder how I can score a guest judge gig?) 
 
Just last night I was privileged to join with my cousins to celebrate my uncle's 85th birthday, their 60th wedding anniversary and my cousin's 50th birthday.  Of course you can't do that without food, can you? 

Actually we were there as a bit of a surprise. My aunt and uncle weren't expecting us.  All weekend long they've been celebrating with a surprise here and there. One cousin flying in from Phoenix and arriving at a concert on Thursday night. One cousin driving in from Iowa and arriving at a boat tour in the city with his two daughters.

What made me think about this post was that last night's celebration was at Ruth's Chris Steak House in South Barrington.  They're known for delivering their steaks on 500 degree plates.  It's not so much that the plates are that hot but when the steak is set in front of you the sizzle of the steak is the first thing that hits your senses. 

Thankfully our server warned everyone about the plates because when I suggest that "touch" plays into your food experience it shouldn't be 3rd degree burns from the searing hot plate. But more on that a little bit later.

We begin to eat with our eyes, don't we? 

It doesn't matter how tasty the food may be if it looks like a pile of mushed up kitchen scraps.  We're not likely to even try a taste.  I think that's the thing about cooking at home that's the hardest.  We can make the most delicious foods but then we just heap them on a plate like we're serving elementary school kids in the lunch line.

I'm sure that there are plenty of perfectly delicious foods that I've passed up over the years because they look like something I would pick up in the yard.  Since the movers arrive in less than two weeks, I was busily packing over the weekend. As I was packing up my cookbooks, I was struck by the one on plating food. 

At least I'm thinking about plate appearance some of the time.

Next up on the sense parade is the sense of smell.  This goes back to my earlier comments about Iron Chef and the need for "Smell-o-Vision." I've noticed that I may start off not very hungry but walk into a kitchen where delicious aromas fill every nook and cranny.  I leave with my mouth watering and this overpowering hunger that was not there 20 seconds ago.

I'm not a doctor nor did I spend the night in a Holiday Inn Express last night so I have to go by what I'm told . . . and what I know from personal experience.  If you can't smell anything you really can't taste anything. All of our senses work together that way.

When that sizzling ribeye was set in front of me not only did I hear it, but it looked perfect and the aroma had my mouth watering from the moment it was placed in front of me. But then there's the texture. Cutting into a perfectly medium rare steak is like cutting into a piece of heaven. Taking a bite and tasting this deliciously aged steak as it melted like butter in my mouth.

Last night they passed around a side of sweet potatoes.  I'm sure that that they were perfectly delicious but for some reason I don't like sweet potatoes.  I think it's because of the texture -- or at least the texture from something made years ago.  It's the same for butternut squash.  I kind of like it in a soup but on it's own not so much.

Last night I ordered one of the Ruth's Chris classics . . . a three course dinner featuring soup or salad, an entree and side and desert. Very reasonably priced.  I had never been to a Ruth's Chris before and came away really impressed.

It's because every one of my senses last night was fully engaged.

That and the server who was attentive but not hovering. It's not often we get a true southerner serving in a restaurant in the Chicago area -- I think it may have something to do with our winters -- but those sweet southern accents that put me in a good mood.

While it was my first visit to Ruth's Chris Steak House, it won't certainly be my last.  They not only have delicious food, but their wine list is pretty nice, too. 

The next time I'm tempted to throw something that's a little burned on a plate like an elementary school lunch lady, I'll remember this experience and put a little more work into getting all five senses into the game.

Of Smoke and Sangiovese

This last weekend was a blur of activity.  I'm getting ready to move at the end of the month . . . even though I have trips planned to Ft. Worth, Orlando, New York, and LA between now and then.  So while I picked up my boxes for the move, I got all of two packed this weekend.

That's because I spent most of it in the kitchen working.  You see coming up at the end of the month is my niece's high school graduation.  She called me the other day and asked if I could help out with the food by bringing some of my salsa up. 

But there was something in her voice that made me suspect that wasn't the whole of it.  So when I asked if there was anything else I could bring, she asked if I could bring up some of my pulled pork for sandwiches. While I said yes before deciding to move (it was a last minute decision) I would have agreed to do this no matter what else I had going.

During a very difficult period of my life, it was my nieces' and nephews' that showed me so much acceptance and love that there isn't anything I wouldn't want to do for them if I could.  Looking over my travel schedule for the next month, this past weekend was the only time I had to get the job done.

But there were several problems.   

Problem #1:  I had run out of my spice rub so I needed to mix some more.

Problem #2: I was down to one bottle of my BBQ sauce and it requires smoking.

Problem #3: I'm a guy.  I don't always read the recipes until I'm stuck. 

All this means is that I didn't have everything that I needed.  Taking it one step at a time, I went to Penzy's for my spices.  This involved a little bit of work and my smart phone as I had forgotten that they had moved from their previous location. 

A couple of honks and pulling over to the side to get the navigation on my phone directing me to the location later, I pulled into the parking lot and circled a few times until I got a space.  I must say that with all the technology available to us either on our smart phones or with GPS it's a Godsend to men everywhere.

It just means that you never again have to pull over and ask for directions.

With the spices in hand I needed to stop by my local Wal-Mart for the pork.  While there's little to commend Wal-Mart to me, the pork butt I've gotten there is as good as any I've had before.  It's hard to find pork butts with the bone in and without the bone it's not as flavorful.

I also picked up a three-pack of ribs from Costco so that I could enjoy the fruits of my efforts this weekend not have to wait until June 3rd for the open house.  

Saturday, like much of the past two weeks for me, was everything I should have expected but didn't.  I woke to the sound of pitter patter on my . . .

. . . rooftop.  I'd have taken that sound anywhere but on the roof.  Only one day to smoke and now it's raining.  That's the way the last two weeks have generally gone.  Alas. I would have appreciated the pitter patter of little footsteps on the floor -- even if it was just a Chihuahua.

After making two trips to the U-Haul store for boxes, the rain settled down enough for me to get the smoker started.  Now all this work was getting me thirsty.  They say that one sign of a drinking problem is that you drink alone. I don't think that's the case if you're drinking Sangiovese from Seghesio. 

So while the meat is smoking, I'm starting on the BBQ sauce.  Do you remember problem #3?  Yep you guessed it, I didn't have all the ingredients that I needed.  Once again it's off to the store in mid-project to gather the missing elements. 

Now I'm really missing my sous chef.  Rule #1 in my kitchen is to not do anything alone.  But I had to as my friend was cleaning out her mom's house in anticipation of my moving in. Everything goes better with Seghesio so while I was cooking down a bottle of the 2005 Cortina Zinfandel for the BBQ sauce, I was enjoying a bottle of the Sangiovese.

My spice rub packs a little bit of a kick -- as does my BBQ sauce.  It starts out sweet but the heat builds making the Sangiovese a perfect pair with the ribs (and eventually the pulled pork).

Since I was on my own for these kitchen projects, you can imagine the challenge in place especially since I apparently can't do anything the easy way which is why I ended up with 30 bottles of BBQ sauce (and 2-1/2 quarts left over for the graduation) along with about 20 pounds of pulled pork. 

This summer when thinking about what to pair with your BBQ items, whether it's pork, beef or chicken, I'd recommend the Seghesio Sangiovese as it stands up well to even the spiciest BBQ rubs and sauces.

Now on to the packing . . . plenty of empty boxes but only two packed and ready to go. 

Any Port in a Storm?

Port.  Up until I a few years ago I hadn't thought much about it.  In fact, if you'd asked me about it a few years ago I might have thought you were talking about that place ships go in the midst of a storm. But then I thought it was just one of those drinks you had to have a smoking jacket and a cigar for. 

But it's not.  Let me explain.

Just the other week my friend Billy was up for a few days so I had him over for a guys night in.  You know the kind of evening . . . nothing fancy just meat and potatoes on the grill.  That's a dinner any guy can cook.

Well, any guy should be able to cook. 

Dinner began on the weekend when I was wandering through my favorite grocery store, Caputo's, and landed at the meat counter.  Now the thing I love about Caputo's is the guy behind the counter.  He knows his meat.  He's not some slick, just push the special kind of guy. He's a meat guy.

My grandpa would have loved him.  They would have talked shop for hours.  You see, back in the day my grandpa was a butcher at the Philadelphia Farmer's Market.  I didn't know him then as he waited until he had six kids to leave that behind and become a minister. I would have loved to know him then.  I have a photo hanging in my kitchen area of him working the counter.

And the counter was crowded. 

The guy at Caputo's reminds me of him.  I can't wait to get to the counter to ask him about his weekly specials -- and every so often I hit it big.  Just before Christmas they had a fabulous prime rib for under $9 a pound.  This time he cut some rib eye steaks to order a little over an inch thick. At Christmas I followed a Good Eats special on aging meat and thought these steaks could use a little dry aging themselves. 

So I dropped a couple of paper towels on the bottom of my meat aging appliance and put the steaks on top, closed it up and put it in the refrigerator for about 5 days.  Never heard of a meat aging appliance? You can make your own just like I did.

It's nothing more than a plastic cake carrier with about 70 holes drilled in it. Typical guy do it yourself stuff.  I bet that Sur la Table would be charging upwards of $100 each for something that 20 bucks and an electric drill can accomplish in about 5 minutes.

When Billy arrived I poured a couple of glasses of Ed Sbragia's Andolsen Cabernet Sauvignon. I had two bottles of the 2005 vintage and before the night was over both would be dry as the rib eyes. I had the steaks out and at room temperature and I sprinkled a healthy dose of my bbq rub over the steaks. 

I'm going to have to adjust my rub mixture for grilling rather than smoking because there's a healthy amount of brown sugar in the mix and as you know flame and sugar don't mix real well.

I also cut up some potatoes, onions and mushrooms and put them in a foil packet along with a little bit of olive oil and rosemary and dropped those on the grill.  Then I trimmed some asparagus and oiled and seasoned them and had them ready to go on a grill sheet when the steaks were about done.

It was still a little chilly here in Chicago so I didn't spend the time just standing around the grill like I would have been later this summer.  This turned out to be a bit of an issue because while I was inside, the steaks got a bit too much char on them (OK they were burned a little). 

Surprisingly everything was done at the same time so while the steaks were resting, I prepared a couple of plates and opened up the second bottle.  It was a great evening with a combination of serious discussion sprinkled in amid the plans to make a culinary trip to New Orleans with Billy and his wife Molly this fall.  There was plenty to laugh about, too.

As the evening came to a close I decided to open up a Pine Ridge Vineyards Black Diamond Port. To be honest I didn't know what came over me.  Between the two of us we'd already finished off a couple of bottles of wine but c'est la vie. 

And I'm really glad I did. 

A couple of glasses later the only thing I can say is that that port put a couple of exclamation points on the evening.  The wine was like a dessert all by itself.  It was sweet but not too much so.  I've had some ports before but nothing like this. And other than Seghesio's Dionigia it's a take it or leave it affair. 

Storm or no, my cellar (such that it is) will always have a couple of bottles of each. It's something that will turn even the most basic of dinners into a truly spectacular and memorable experience.