Schu's Grill & Bar

(Saint Joseph, MI) — It’s almost cliche to talk about the weather, but this year’s transition from an overlong Michigan winter went directly to summer. Spring simply did not happen. One day it’s highs in the 30’s and then it’s 80’s. And, like many Michiganders, when the weather turns warm we begin to think of the lakeshore. Our travels took us southward to the small, picturesque town of Saint Joseph right around lunchtime. Luckily, Schu’s Grill & Bar is only a quick walk from downtown parking...

He Fed:

I’ve not spent much time in Saint Joseph, so I’m not really sure what to expect from Schu’s. A meal at nearby Pump House Grille a while back was fine, but not memorable. Somehow, though, the downtown area seems more thriving than I remember. Schu’s Grill & Bar is prime location with a great view of the Lake Michigan and Silver Beach County Park. We head inside.

There’s a clash of rustic styles inside, some tables and chairs chosen for a lodge feel but others more traditional wood and non-descript. A few booths line the walls, boardwalk or pier style lamps illuminating well-worn tabletops. A large fireplace dominates the dining room while a generous bar area overlooks all. Nautical decorations are sprinkled here and there, but the overall effect is either half-hearted or hodge-podge. I get the distinct impression the restaurant isn’t quite sure what it wants to be yet or wants to cater to everyone without offending anyone.

Our waitress is pleasant, though slightly distracted, even though there aren’t many patrons yet for lunch. Perhaps she’s contemplating (or dreading) the imminent rush. I start with a Round Barn Kolsch. It’s my first taste of Round Barn’s beer and I like it, light and refreshing. Very happy Schu’s serves local brew!

Rather than do our usual appetizer sampling, we both decide to try soup instead. I’m a sucker for anything spicy so it’s the Louisiana Gumbo for me. There are chunks of well-spiced chicken and sausage floating in a thick stock mixed with okra and topped with crumbled cornbread. Yep, you heard that right: cornbread sprinkled on top. It makes so much sense, though I don’t think I’ve encountered it before. The gumbo hits the spot, and has clearly been given time for the flavors to meld. I’m a little disappointed there are no shrimp, but I misread the menu...only chicken and sausage. Still, I’d order it again in a heartbeat.

Although I’m eyeballing the reuben, Juliet seems more interested in it so I withdraw my claim and instead order the Cajun Clubhouse. It’s a blackened chicken breast sandwiched between a croissant, topped with bacon, thin-sliced ham, provolone cheese, and a spicy southwestern ranch sauce. The croissant is a lovely touch, but the chicken is unevenly seasoned and cooked to death. I know some restaurants are afraid of undercooked poultry but, man, marinate that chicken breast or inject it or something! It’s no fun to chew chew chew a dry piece of chicken, even if all the other ingredients are perfectly fresh and delicious. Luckily, I ordered a side of BBQ sauce for my fries (which are very good) so I use that to help the last bite of sandwich slide down to its final resting place.

When we next find ourselves in Saint Joseph, I’ll gladly stop in to Schu’s for a cold brew and more of that soup. I’ll skip the club, though, and check out the short rib sliders.

She Fed:

We’ve got time to grab some lunch in downtown St. Joe. With the sun peeking out from the clouds, I decide a view of Lake Michigan is in order, so we head to Schu’s Grill & Bar.

Despite a fair amount of downtown foot traffic, the restaurant only has a few luncheon patrons. We get a table by the window where we can catch glimpses of the whitecaps on the water. Once we’re seated, I spy the outdoor dining area with a front and center view of the lake. While it’s too breezy for dining al fresco today, I can only imagine how fabulous a cocktail with some small plates and friends would be after work one night. Great summer sunset watching, for sure.

I’ve been to Schu’s for lunch before and recall them having a pretty decent gyro. There’s something about red onions and yogurt with warm pita bread that gets me everytime. Unfortunately, after a quick perusal of the menu, I realize the gyro is no longer offered. Blurgh! They do however still have their "famous" Baked Potato Soup. I order a cup, knowing it will warm me to the bones. For a main, I know I should have a salad, but nothing’s grabbing me. Don’t get me wrong; Schu’s has a broad choice of entree salads—Michigan Cherry, Grilled Salmon, Ahi Tuna, and Sesame Chicken, to name a few. None sound like what I want on a cold windy day. I end up ordering the reuben, a far cry from a salad.

The soups are presented immediately and both are piping hot. The cups are so full it’s impossible to dunk your spoon in without overflowing the cup. My Baked Potato Soup is topped with bacon crumbles, shredded cheddar, and green onion slices. Once I get my spoon into it to stir it up and let it cool for a few, I can take my first slurp. It’s exactly as I remembered, lush and comforting with big chunks of potato and lots of fresh ground pepper. The bacon and cheddar give it even more opulence. I make a mental note to just order a bowl of this soup next time for lunch; it’s incredibly filling and satisfying.

As we’re finishing up, the sandwiches arrive. My reuben isn’t jam-packed with meat, which is a good thing after the creamy, rich soup. It’s a darn good reuben with the rye toasted perfectly, the corned beef and Swiss cheese melted together, and the sauerkraut drained and warmed. The fries are average with that extra bit of coating on them like they’ve been double fried or came from a bag out of the deep freeze. I should have opted for the housemade potato chips.

Our service has been top-notch throughout the lunch and by the time we’re paying our check, the place is close to full. My glass of Schu’s “Private Label” Chardonnay from California’s North Coast is a heavy pour that’s served ice cold. I’ve never had a drink here before but think, while the patio might be the perfect place for a summer cocktail, a table by the fireplace with generous wine pours might be a nice winter retreat!

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Shiraz Grille

(Grand Rapids, MI) — Living downtown Grand Rapids, we seldom get a chance to visit the Kentwood area much anymore since we sold our house in the ‘burbs several years ago. When we do get out that way (usually to stock up on wine and pizza dough at G.B. Russo), we also keep an eyeball out for any restaurants we’ve yet to visit. Wouldn’t you know it? Right up the road from Russo’s is Shiraz Grille. Despite our love of Mediterranean cuisine, we haven’t been able to schedule a dinner until now...

He Fed:

From outside, Shiraz doesn't look like much. The squat building, located behind a gas station, could be an ice cream parlor or a jewelry store. However, looks can often be deceiving.

A hostess stand greets us, flanked by white columns snaked with greenery to give the place an oasis vibe. To the right is a small bar. Beyond are numerous tables, well-appointed with colorful tablecloths. Somewhere, soft Middle Eastern music plays. We are shown to a four-top, given leather-bound menus and water, then left to ponder our choices.

I’m thinking Baba Ghannouj sounds good, but Juliet quickly points out the sampler platter where you can order any four of the apps for just $16. The sampler arrives on a large platter. Hummus is pureed chickpeas and garlic blended with Tahini and olive oil. I find it to be pretty standard, and not even as good as Juliet makes at home. Maust Khiar is a creamy yogurt with diced cucumber, chopped walnuts, and currant raisins. It’s cool and refreshing, with a nutty undercurrent beneath the tangy Greek yogurt. Kashk Bodemjon is roasted eggplant cooked with sauteed onions, garlic and mint, mixed with whey, then topped with caramelized onions. I find it pleasantly spicy, with the sweetness of the onion bringing me back for more. Finally, the fourth app is Persian Shrimp Cocktail. The pomegranate-glazed shrimp has been grilled then chilled, and sided with a mint yogurt sauce. Yowza! It is sweet, succulent, perfectly cooked and finely spiced. The mint sauce takes it through the roof.

About this time, on my second glass of Harlow Ridge Pinot Noir, the lights dim. A woman materializes from the kitchen, wearing gossamer sheets that barely conceal the fact she’s a belly dancer. On Thursday nights, there’s a show. She plays a traditional song and begins to dance, clearly enjoying it, as are most of the other patrons. It’s fun but not really my thing.

Between sets, we order entrees. From the Khoreshes section (a delicate stew or sauce combining meat with herbs, fruit, nuts, spices, and rice), I’m drawn toward the Gheymeh Bodemjon, probably because it has split peas and I’m a sucker for peas. It’s a shallow stew of braised beef, yellow split peas, and eggplant in a cinnamon-tomato sauce with Persian sun-dried limes. I also upgrade my rice to the Adass Polo, which has lentils and cinnamon rice topped with raisins, dates, and caramelized onions. In retrospect, I should have skipped the upgrade; it’s good, but the rest of the dish is so overt, most of the light touches are lost. The stew, though, is top-notch. I love cinnamon and tomato together, the spicy sweet aromatic tantalizes in contrast to the fork tender fatty beef. The peas add crunchy texture and the eggplant just a touch of heat.

I never expected to find such authentic Mediterranean food in Grand Rapids, but every bite rang true. When next we’re down toward Kentwood, we’ll be swinging by to sample more of those shrimp.

She Fed:

Shiraz is one of those places we’ve been meaning to visit but never quite found the time, so I’m excited we’re giving it a try tonight. Best of all, Thursday nights feature belly dancing! I’m already scheming how I can surprise my parents with a trip here on a Thursday night when they’re visiting.

All of the starters sound amazing, so we opt for the appetizer sampler—a combination of four from the eight or so choices on the menu. I select the hummus and the Maust Khiar, yogurt with cucumber, walnuts, and currants. Jeremy picks the Persian Shrimp Cocktail and the Kashk Bodemjon, roasted eggplant with onions, garlic, mint, and caramelized onions.

The sampler is delivered with a generous basket of warm pita. The server taking care of the table behind us bragged up the hummus so I’m expecting something spectacular. It’s flavorful but it’s not the best I ever had (which, for the record, appeared in a 2009 issue of Food & Wine Magazine and can easily be made at home). The eggplant spread, on the other hand, is over the top...smoky, garlic-y, and sweet with the crispy onions. The shrimp have been grilled with a pomegranate glaze and are served with minted yogurt. They’re nothing short of divine. The Maust Khiar is great on its own, or slathered over the eggplant, tangy from the yogurt, crunchy with the walnuts, and slightly sweet from the currants.

I knew before we even walked in the door I’d be ordering a kabob, probably the Koubideh, a blend of ground beef and lamb. I’ve had these in other cities while travelling and even made them once in a cooking class. They’re one of my favorites and as tempting as some of the other dishes sound, like pomegranate chicken or Cornish game hen kabob, I want a comforting, standby dish.

But then dinner is presented to a nearby table and we catch a peek of the lamb shank. Four lamb shanks in fact; every person ordered one and I hear murmurs of “This is the best dish here” and “I don’t ever order anything else.” The shanks are hulking towers of meat surrounded by gargantuan carrots and smothered in a dark gravy. It’s a very caveman-esque moment and I can think of nothing more comforting than ordering my very own.

It’s even better than it looked across the room. The lamb is braised in a savory tomato sauce, scented with cinnamon and other exotic-smelling spices. The meat seems to surrender and slip from the bone as my fork approaches. A slight caramelized crust has formed on the top of the shank. I love that sticky sweet meat-bark and pick at it. The rest of the lamb is tender and succulent, such a lovely dish that I ignore the green peas (a veggie I despise and dread) mixed throughout. But it is far too much for one person. I give up and put my fork down, already dreaming about how I’ll enjoy the leftovers at home.

p.s. The belly dancer asked Jeremy to dance!

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Crooked Goose

(Walker, MI) — Have you ever experienced one of those situations where a restaurant or other business opens up nearby and you think, I’ll check that out soon? Only, “soon” turns out to be a long time later, maybe even a year hence? So it happened with Crooked Goose in Walker, MI, the off-shoot of successful Meritage Group venture Twisted Rooster. Friends and fellow foodies have talked it up (and down) over the course of time, but we finally got an opportunity to experience it for ourselves...

He Fed:

The parking lot is packed on a Wednesday evening. That’s either a really good sign of popularity, or a really bad sign that we’ve chosen a night where there’s some kind of event. Turns out, a bit of both.

We open the front door to a vestibule, where there’s another glass door, into which we nearly slam. Inside, a friendly hostess greets us with a smile that says she’s probably seen hundreds of people bonk into that glass door. Despite the crammed parking lot, they have a booth open near the back and we are seated immediately.

Judging from nearby patrons, Crooked Goose is popular among young adults, sports fans, and families. It is a bit noisy and boisterous, but not too distracting. Our server enthusiastically welcomes us, then reveals why tonight is so busy. First, Brewery Vivant is there to raise money with a tap takeover, with 10% of profits going to the West Michigan Food Bank. Pretty cool! Second, it’s college night with 49 cent wings, 49 cent PBR, and $3 bombs.

Juliet can’t resist flappers, so we start with two skewers of fried chicken wings. They are perfectly cooked, with no creepy pink parts. One bunch is slathered with Crooked BBQ (though it just tastes like regular BBQ sauce to me), while the other is dressed with Sweet Garlic Soy Sauce. I clean my drummies, surprised they're so meaty.

The dinner menu is not as eclectic as Twisted Rooster; Crooked Goose veers more toward pub fare with just a slight tweak here and there. This seems like a wise choice in Walker, where family-oriented West Michiganders may not be as adventuresome. I flirt with the idea of Crooked Chicken Pot Pie or Jalapeno Cream Grilled Cheese sandwich, but eventually can’t resist the Michigan Fried Bologna Sandwich, mostly for the shock factor. (Juliet could never have predicted my order.)

The sandwich is monstrous, buttered sesame seed bun crammed with maple mustard slaw, onion straws, swiss cheese, and a thick slab of Ebels Farm bologna, slathered with Mrs. Dog’s mustard. I dive in, the maple and mustard crunch providing sweet texture against the slightly greasy bologna. Onion straws taste delicious, but I’m impatient with slippery toppings that won’t stay in place or cut clean with a bite; I end up peeling most of them off onto the plate. Otherwise, this is as good a sandwich as the Twisted Reuben at their sister restaurant.

Unfortunately, after polishing off the delectable but standard cup of mustard potato salad, I can only plow through about two-thirds of the sandwich. Too full. I finish my mug of Big Red Coq, then we toddle out after settling up. There are still many more dishes I’d like to try on their menu, so I imagine it won’t take another year until our next visit.

She Fed:

It’s only Wednesday, but it’s been a hell of a week with two day’s worth of all-day meetings and a lot of big projects coming to a close at work. I’ve been away from home for two nights and there’s nothing I’d rather do than tuck in with some Chinese take-away, cuddle up with the cats and the hubster, and watch a little Netflix. But we agreed a few nights ago to check out Crooked Goose in Walker.

The place is packed, quite noisy, but instead of being annoyed by the hubbub I find myself perking up a bit. Our waitress is Amber and she’s friendly without being overbearing. She explains tonight is college night with 49-cent wings (to be ordered in multiples of five) and 49-cent PBRs.

I’ll pass on the PBR, but the “loaded Faygo” catches my eye. It’s simply a bottle of Faygo (orange, root beer, or grape) topped with a shot of vodka. I debate between the grape with Grape Hammer or the root beer with a Pinnacle Whipped. When I decide on the loaded root beer the waitress says it’s one of her favorites.

We order 10 wings, five with “Crooked BBQ” sauce and five with sweet garlic soy sauce. They arrive minutes after our drinks are delivered. While I had suspected the worst—small skimpy dry wings—these are big and meaty, served on a skewer. I don’t detect anything special in the barbeque version, but the sweet garlic soy wings are amazing. The garlic gives nice depth to the sticky-sweet-salty sauce. Our plate contains more “flappers” than “drummies,” which is fine by me as I love flappers. But Jeremy’s a drummie kinda guy so he’ll have to finagle with a few flappers.

Crooked Goose “commits to the mitt”, featuring many Michigan-inspired dishes with local products. I consider ordering 10 more wings and making them my dinner (in particular, the Franks Red Hot Honey version sounds tasty), but I’m seeking a little comfort. I decide to go with one of my guilty pleasures: chicken fingers. I love a good chicken finger, though most of my friends and co-workers give pause or roll their eyes when I order them. Too many chicken nuggets with their kids, I suppose? Crooked Goose’s version is described as spicy, which sounds a bit unique. Instead of steak fries, I opt for the parmesan mashed potatoes.

Like the wings, our food arrives surprisingly quick. The fingers are huge and the white meat still moist...neither dry nor chewy. My one complaint is with the batter. First, it’s not spicy at all. Second, it slips off the chicken when bit. The fingers are much easier to eat with a knife and fork. The side of Mrs. Dog’s mustard sauce I requested as dipping sauce elevates these chicken fingers to a whole new level, too! The mashed potatoes are some of the best I’ve ever tasted, super creamy and cheesy from the Parm. Truly comfort food at its best, these might be the best mashed potatoes in Grand Rapids.

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PBFW: Celebrity Chef Golf Tournament

(Pebble Beach, CA) — Although we have attended the Pebble Beach Food & Wine event a few times before, this year afforded us the opportunity to actually play Pebble Beach golf course as part of the Celebrity Chef Golf Tournament...

He Fed:

Something magical happened. All weather models on every website predicted a rainy golf day, smack dab in the middle of otherwise picture perfect days. I awoke early, dressed, made coffee, and stepped out onto our hotel room balcony to see...no rain. The forest and lawn below were damp, so it had clearly rained not long ago, but now? Nothing. And it got better with every passing hour.

We arrived via shuttle to the clubhouse a few minutes late. Though we missed the champagne toast, our hosts filled our hands with Taittenger as we passed. Inside, made-to-order smoothies and coffee drinks were available, as were little breakfast bites of caviar-topped pastries and “toad in the hole” with a soft boiled egg instead of sausage. We scarfed down a couple, then ran to our carts.

While Geoffrey Zakarian and other famous chefs practiced on the putting green, we loaded up on free tallboys of Stella Artois for our beer cooler. Our group included me, Juliet, her boss, and another young couple from SoCal. Soon, we were in our carts and racing to hole #5 for our shotgun start. (We got lost on the way and had to turn around to find #5, but we got there!)

Strange for Pebble Beach, there was absolutely no wind. I took off my jacket, stripped down to a polo shirt, and led the charge with a beautiful down-the-middle drive. All day, my drives were better than normal while my short game remained as dismal as always. It’s a scramble, though, so everyone contributed and I’m very proud of my long putt to birdie the final hole.

At first, we expected some kind of food or drink at every hole. It wasn’t until #9, however, when we began to encounter sustenance. Pulled pork and slaw; lobster rolls; fresh berries from Driscoll; and lobster corn dogs. When you’re playing a course as spectacular as Pebble Beach, though, food and drink pale in comparison. This place is gorgeous! I don’t expect to play a nicer course or have a more enjoyable round of golf.

She Fed:

When we receive the invitation to golf at Pebble Beach we immediately and enthusiastically accept the opportunity. With grins on our faces we schlep our clubs all the way from Michigan to Pebble Beach, checking them in with the bellman at The Inn at Spanish Bay, our home for five days. I have to admit, it’s fun explaining to the bellman we’ll need our clubs early the next morning as we’re part of the tournament.

The show organizers instruct us to arrive at 8 am, which turns out to be a bit late, giving us just enough time to hurriedly nibble on some breakfast (berry smoothies, truffled egg puffs, assorted pastry, strong espresso) and grab a glass of champagne before the tournament’s official start. After much milling around, including Geoffery Zacharian graciously posing for photos with fans while looking for his cart, we head for our assigned holes. After a few double-backs and U-turns, we find hole #5 and begin stretching and limbering up for that first swing. Jeremy and I take a quick moment to stand cliffside overlooking the shore, pinching ourselves to see if we’re dreaming.

What follows is a full day of challenging golf on one of the world’s most pristine and gorgeous courses. Every few holes there are drinks and nibbles: strongly spiked coffee (or “aiming juice” as I call it) from the Cosmopolitan of Las Vegas; tangy smoked BBQ brisket with crunchy slaw; lobster sandwiches; Stella Artois and Pellegrino; a seafood bar with sashimi tuna, oysters on the half-shell, and shrimp cocktail; lobster corn dogs with tomato jam; and fresh berries from Driscoll’s. There are also gifts and schwag along the way: fleeces, gloves, Stella glasses, mini-coolers, etc.

The forecast called for rain and clouds, but early in our game the sun emerges and the weather is absolutely glorious. We end the day slightly sunburned and tired, but in very high spirits over our score—just two over par! This once in a lifetime opportunity will be the highlight of our spring, if not our 2013.

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GR Mag (May 2013): Poker Lunch

(Grand Rapids, MI) — If you're a subscriber, you have probably blazed through the May 2013 issue of Grand Rapids Magazine by now. (If you're not a subscriber yet, then save yourself a trip to the magazine rack by signing up today!) In this latest column, we talk about one of our favorite social activities: the poker lunch (or brunch, if you're so inclined). Here are a few more suggestions and recipes for making your poker party go smoothly...

He Fed:

Most of my fellow poker players tend to schedule games on Friday or Saturday nights. That’s pretty traditional, right? Here at HeFedSheFed.com, though, we tend to host games on Sunday afternoons because there’s just something inherently naughty about playing poker and drinking bloody marys when everyone else is just getting out of church or starting in on their springtime yard work. Yeah, we’re heathens.

The most important part of setting up a poker game is getting the timing right. That is, structuring a game so it will last as long as you want—no more, no less—while keeping most of your guests in the game as long as possible, to maximize both fun and value for their money. You can find all kinds of software and apps to help organize the game, even some freebies you can set up and run in a browser. The key is to give everyone just enough chips so they don’t feel as if they need to go all-in every hand, but not enough where they feel all powerful.

We like to keep the stakes very low because this isn’t about someone getting rich at the expense of friends, but rather having fun practicing technique while possibly winning a little spending cash. Quite often, we spend more on drinks and snacks than we ever win back. At least for us, the emphasis is on food and camaraderie.

I recommend limiting a typical game to 3 hours if you’re playing just one, or two 2 hour games. (Our games are usually one 2 hour game that pays the top 3 spots, then a follow-up game that’s winner-take-all so folks can head home when they get knocked out.)

Music, usually on shuffle, should be played in the background. It helps to keep your television tuned to sports and muted so if someone wants to catch up on the game, they can do so at a glance.

Other than that, set out your bowls of peanuts and pretzels, line up the beer glasses, and stack all the chips in neat little towers on the felt. Guests will be arriving soon!

Chopped Veggie Salad Recipe

One of my favorite summer salads is a chopped salad using grilled veggies. Juliet preps a homemade dressing and greens while I grill up a mess of veg including orange, yellow, and red peppers; zucchini; summer squash; mushrooms; and red onion slices. I will grill the veggies first, before any meat hits the grill. Then while I'm tending to the meat—be it chicken, chops, fish, or beef—Juliet peels off any charred skin from the peppers, gives the veggies a rustic chop, and generously sprinkles them on a bed of leafy greens. A drizzle of aged balsamic and splash of extra virgin olive oil and you’ve got a fab salad.

My eyes are always bigger than my stomach, so we invariably end up with lots of leftover grilled veggies. Tossed with canned beans, a few fresh veggies (diced carrots and celery are a fave), and a vinaigrette, they make for a great lunch the next day.

She Fed:

I’ve always been a fan of beer can chicken because the meat turns out so moist while the skin gets incredibly crispy. I’ve used everything from PBR, to Oberon, to a malty stout. In my opinion the beer adds more moisture than actual flavor, so I never really fret too much over what beer to use and just grab whatever Jeremy’s got handy.

If you’re using an actual can of beer, as opposed to one of the many vertical chicken roasters available on the market today, place the can-stuffed chicken in a roasting pan. Not only will this help avoid a mess if the chicken topples over, but you can toss veggies in the roasting pan to cook in the lovely chicken juices. Ever taste a carrot that’s roasted in chicken broth and fat? Incredible.

One last tip—just like traditional roast chicken, if you’re taking time to make one beer can chicken, seriously consider roasting a second bird. The leftovers make divine chicken salad and you can always freeze it for one of those insane weeknights when you’re rushed for dinner.

Here’s a basic recipe. Feel free to mix up the spices and the beer to make this recipe your own! If you’re using a store-bought spice blend, check to see if it contains salt or pepper and adjust your seasonings accordingly.

Ingredients
• 1 whole chicken, preferably organic, close to 4 lbs
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 2 tablespoons kosher salt
• fresh ground pepper (most recipes call for one teaspoon, but I use a bit more)
• 3-4 tablespoons of poultry seasoning (try Italian, Cajun, or Mediterranean blends, spicy herb rubs, etc.)
• 1 half can of beer (drink a few healthy glugs before inserting into the chicken)

Many recipes suggest rinsing your chicken inside and out, then patting it dry. I skip this step, but do what feels best for you. Rub the chicken liberally with olive oil inside and out; I probably use more than 2 tablespoons of oil, to be honest. Season the chicken with salt, pepper, and spice/herb blend of your choice. The tricky part is getting the chicken to balance on the beer can. Another benefit to cooking two at once is that you can lean them towards each other to help keep them balanced. I always feel slightly guilty during the “beer can insertion” stage of the recipe. Drinking half the can of beer helps calm my nerves and I do have it on good authority that the chicken can’t actually feel this!

Roast the chicken at medium-high (375-degree-ish) on indirect heat for about 75 minutes. Timing will vary with the weight of your bird. Use an instant-read thermometer and remove the bird when the thigh hits 180-degrees. Let the chicken rest for at least 10 minutes before carving. Be careful removing the beer can as its contents will be piping hot. I typically use a clean dish towel to protect my hands while removing the can.

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Sunday Snack Attack

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Breakfast? Brunch? Lunch.

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PBFW: Tiny Bubbles

(Pebble Beach, CA) — The annual Pebble Beach Food & Wine event is more than just celebrity chef golf tournaments, celebrity chef lunches and dinners, and book signings by celebrity chefs. It’s also a place where you can learn a little something about food and wine, from the folks who produce it. Ever the stalwart adventurer, HeFed attended a seminar entitled “The Triumph of Tiny Bubbles: Champagne from the Grower’s Perspective”...

I like champagne quite a lot, but like most wines, I’m not exactly an expert in that field. Oh, sure, if you served me a Cabernet Sauvignon, a Merlot, and a Pinot Noir, I could tell which from which. I might even be able to tell you from what country or state it’s from. My palate, though, is not fine-tuned enough to hone in on region or producer. Not yet, anyway. So when “Tiny Bubbles” appeared on this year’s seminar options, I enlist immediately.

After waiting in line with fellow attendees, our tickets are scanned and we are ushered into a ballroom lined with long tables covered in white linen. Wine glasses have been lined up, along with crackers and water to reset the palate between tastings. There’s even a “spit cup” in case you’d rather not be too tipsy at 10a in the morning. (I’ve been to a few of these seminars before and, let me tell you, I’m a swallower...particularly if the libations are as rare and delicious as most turn out to be at these events. No spit cup for me.)

I choose a seat near the back. On stage are four experts: Antonio Galloni, editor of The Wine Advocate; Laura Maniec, co-founder of Corkbuzz; Raj Parr, wine director at Sandhi Wines; and Sabato Sagaria, master sommelier at The Little Nell. They guide us through each of 10 different champagnes, telling stories of their trips to France and their interactions with the local farmers and vintners. It is a rousing session, since each of the presenters is genuinely excited about the offerings and passionate about the subject.

Note-taking is not my forte; I tend to rely on photo or video evidence, along with a copy of the menu, to weave a story around a food/drink experience. This time, however, I was able to jot down each of the champagnes and my impressions:

Egly-Ouriet Brut Tradition NV
Not real impressed by this one. I found it subdued on the nose, with an acidic play on the tongue. It screams Brut, but also reminded me of some lesser proseccos.

Aubry Brut Rose Premier Cru NV
In contrast, this Brut gave off a soft floral scent that immediately called to mind rose petals strewn on a picnic blanket. Taste was expectedly dry and pleasant, but not very demonstrative.

Vilmart Grand Cellier d'Or 2007
Full bodied with longer legs. A very slight acidity that suggested this would be good when paired with food. Generally amiable.

Francis Boulard Petraea 2007
A lot going on here. Sweet port and honeyed bread on the nose. Yeasty, creamy mouthfeel with a hazelnut finish.

Pierre Peters Blanc de Blancs Les Chetillons 2005
Another light honey-nut smell and taste, though really thin on the palate. Disappears quickly.

Agrapart Extra Brut Bland de Blancs Grand Cru Mineral Mineral 2005
Lots of concentrated bubbles. Stony on the nose with a whisper of goat cheese. The minerality comes through as a bit ashy, which supports the goat cheese impression.

La Closetie Jerome Prevost Brut Nature Les Beguines NV 2010
Very creamy on the tongue. A little sting of tartness that makes me smack my lips, then a sweet-tart candy finish that lingers.

Inflorescence Cedric Bouchard Blanc de Noirs Val Vilaine NV 2010
My absolute favorite of the bunch. Creamy, yeasty mouthfeel with a restrained balance that echoes minerality but never quite pushes that agenda. Not too sweet, not too acidic, not too tart. Damn near perfect. My notes say, “Drinkable to the nth degree.”

Marie Courtain Extra Brut Effloressence 2008
Sweet acidity smacks you in the snout and tastes as advertised. Some mineral notes, but the acidity overrides all else.

Ulysse Collin Extra Brut Blanc de Blancs Les Periers NV 2008
My second favorite by a slight margin. Bold, playful nose of fresh-baked pastry. Yeasty, but with a wine-like mouthfeel. You want to drink this with a croissant close at hand.

You might be able to acquire some of these at a local wine shop like Martha’s Vineyard or at a world-class wine bar like Reserve, here in Grand Rapids. However, our presenters did emphasize that the small productions do have extremely limited availability so you may have to put on your investigative caps. Me? I’m on the hunt for more of that Inflorescence!

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Crawfish Boil

(Coopersville, MI) — In 2012, we were super excited when good friends invited us to their annual crawfish boil. We’d never been to one and even proposed to contribute dessert. Unfortunately, a sudden ice storm intervened. Our beloved Prius suffered an axle-bending incident on a curvy stretch of highway, and we were forced to cancel our attendance only hours before the event. Now, a year later, we were extended another invite and we were determined to make it count this time...

He Fed:

Suck the head. This phrase gives me pause when it comes to eating shrimp and crawfish. I mean, really? It’s kind of creepy! At least that’s what I used to think, a few years back before I ate things like pig’s tail, lamb liver, cod cheek, and uni. (If you’re not sure what uni is, Google it.) Now, I’m actually looking forward to this ancient and mysterious ritual. Today, I will suck the head.

We drive to Coopersville. The roads are mercifully clear. On the way, we stop by Siciliano’s to pick up some cider and Abita beer. For late March, it’s warm enough to wear shorts. This is going to be a good day. Our friends’ driveway is filled with other guests’ vehicles; the garage is propped open. Steam rises from a boiling pot of water. Everyone looks happy.

I start off with a can of Brewery Vivant’s Big Red Coq, which puts me in the mood for this social gathering. On a nearby table squats a small deep fryer, into which Filipino spring rolls are submerged. A few minutes later, they are rescued, dripping oil, perfectly crispy brown. They are hiding hot death inside, though, so I wait about 10 minutes before venturing to bite into one. Mmm...shredded cabbage, pork, and vegetables. Even better when they’re dipped into spicy-sweet sauce.

Indoors, we snack on bacon coated with brown sugar and chipotle. Yowza! It’s all I can do not to glutton out on pork. I pass on the spiked fruit punch, instead switching gears to Jockamo IPA from Abita. I am allowed a taste test of the gumbo, though, and it is spectacular, with just the right amount of goo from the okra and a well-balanced spice level.

I head back out to the garage to find LettersToJ draining the first batch of crawfish. He dumps them into an insulated styrofoam cooler, then sprinkles them with with Louisiana spices. Steam erupts from the bright red carapaces. My hunger surges. Next, hunks of sweet corn and potatoes are boiled in the broth until fork tender. The dinner bell rings.

Cookie demonstrates how to eat a crawdad with practiced ease. I’m impressed. Thankfully, I watched a few YouTube videos beforehand, so I have some idea how to get at the meat. Each guest is then given their own aluminum pan, wherein they can pile many crawfish and other accoutrements. I pile on about 20 of the critters, some corn, a potato, and spicy sausage. I experience a momentary shudder of uncertainty, but then dive headlong into my first crawfish. I pop and twist the head off, then pinch the tail shell, peeling away three segments. A quick press on the end of the tail and the meat slides out of the shell. It is mouth-wateringly tender, soaked with spices, and mildly sweet. Tentatively, I put the head to my lips and suck out the concentrated juice. It’s not my favorite jus ever, probably because I’m still getting used to it. No matter; I concentrate on the rest of the meal.

Finally, my platter is filled with hollow shells. I wolf down the corn, which burns my lips with seasoning, but I can’t stop eating it. I also grab a bowl of the gumbo to top things off. There is much more crawfish to be had, but I’m already hurting. Who knew those little seafood nibbles could fill me up so fast?

Despite any misgivings I might have had about eating crawfish for the first time, this experience primed me to want more. Can’t wait for the next one! Thanks to our gracious hosts, Cookie and LettersToJ.

She Fed:

When Cookie announces she and LetterToJ will be hosting another crawfish boil in late March, Jeremy and I immediately ink it in the calendar. Just before their 2012 shindig, I had a car accident, causing us to miss it. There were no serious injuries save for a major goose egg, one mangled Prius, and a damaged cream of coconut layer cake intended for the party. So we’ve been hankering for this experience for over a year!

I offer to make a Southern-inspired dessert (because that turned out so well last year?) and land upon a recipe for a modern take on Hummingbird cake. I’ve been fascinated by Hummingbird cakes since I was a little girl. Part banana bread, part carrot cake with cinnamon, crushed pineapple, pecans, and cream cheese frosting...what’s not to love? Legend has it the cake earned its name because it’s so divine, it makes eaters hum with delight. Check out this Southern Living bundt cake version I used, which was very easy and turned out perfectly (though it needed 15 more minutes of baking in my oven).

It’s a warm and sunny day, perfect for an afternoon of foodie fun. One guest brings candied bacon, another a big bowl of (incredibly powerful) rum punch. The Klutsters bring lumpia, a Filipino version of an eggroll filled with meat and veggies. Cookie’s working in the kitchen, putting finishing touches on a big stockpot of gumbo, while the men work in the garage. One deep fryer is crisping up the lumpia and a larger deep fryer filled with water is boiling the crawdaddys. This has got to be the best smelling garage ever!

We all nibble on the lumpia as they emerge from the deep fryer, dunking each end into sweet chile sauce. I was put off when I heard there were green peas in the lumpia, but the filling is so finely ground, there’s no green pea taste. Truth be told, I love these little devils. I scald my fingers a few times snatching them up too soon from the fryer!

The crawdaddys are pulled from the cooker, briefly drained, and poured into a large styrofoam cooler to steam a bit longer. Additional Louisiana spices are sprinkled over them before the lid is closed. Next the redskins go into the pot; time for them to swim in the spices and crawfish juices. Then the Andouille sausage chunks. Corn on the cob is added a bit later.

In no time at all, bowls of steaming crawdaddys, cob corn, sausage, and redskins parade in from the garage while heavy-duty foil rimmed cookie sheets are passed around. Somehow, Cookie’s found time to make some biscuits and there are bowls waiting to be filled with bubbling gumbo. She gives us a brief tutorial on how to eat the crawfish, confirming sucking the head is optional. We pile up our “plates” and find a seat. Just like Cookie demonstrated, I peel a few tail sections off and pinch the tail which causes the tender white meat to pop right out. It’s buttery and sweet. Not what I expected from something nicknamed “mudbug”! There’s no silverware; you eat it all, save for the gumbo, with your hands. (Someone warns the group to not scratch their eyes with their hands. Someone else says “careful with anything you touch tonight.” Read into that what you want.)

My lips are on fire, my tummy is full, and I am in awe of the gastronomical adventure our pals just provided. Laissez les bons temps rouler!

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