BBQ Field Trip #3 - Snow's

Snow’s BBQ: The story of an “unknown” gem that immediately reached international fame, and was left relatively unchanged. To fully appreciate this fat kid field trip, and the BBQ at Snow’s, you must first know the recent history and story of Snow’s. It’s a great story too.

How the world discovered Snow's

Texas Monthly, who for all intents and purposes is THE AUTHORITY on all things Texas BBQ related, publishes a list of Texas’s top BBQ restaurants every so many years. The success of this list has spawned into an entire section on the Texas Monthly website dedicated to BBQ, a yearly BBQ festival held in Austin at the Long Center, and a number of other similar Texas Monthly articles on the best burgers, tacos, etc in Texas. The last publication of their Top 50 list was a few years back (2008 I believe). The list caused quite a stir when published. There were some major shocks at the top of the list. The usual suspects were all there in the top 5: City Market in Luling, Kreuz and Smitty’s in Lockhart, Louie Mueller’s in Taylor (which I personally find sinfully overrated). Most notably, however, the longstanding king of Texas BBQ (as voted by Texas Monthly), Cooper’s in Llano, was nowhere to be seen, and a complete unknown, Snow’s BBQ in Lexington, was named the new heavyweight champion of the world.

More strangely, Snow’s had a story. Some character. Something unique. It fit a lot of the usual criteria: Located in an obscure central Texas town that starts with an L? Check. Pitmaster with a heavily guarded recipe and procedure? Check. Menu focusing almost exclusively on brisket, ribs, and sausage? Check. What didn’t fit? The pitmaster is a 70something year old woman named Tootsie who is sharp as a tack, sassy as hell, and works her day job as a custodian at the local elementary school. Almost equally puzzling was the restaurant itself – open only on Saturday mornings, from 8am until they run out. And they run out. Every time. The idea of BBQ for lunch is fairly commonplace, especially on the weekends. But BBQ for breakfast, both as a choice (for the proprietors), and as a necessity (for the consumers who are afraid of it running out) was just so damn off the wall it became this thing of myth. Following Texas Monthly’s publication, a trip to Snow’s became a badge of honor. You were one of those brave fools who got up at the asscrack of dawn on a weekend, drove to bumfucknowhere, and waited in line with hundreds of other folks with the chance the BBQ would be sold out by the time you got to the front of the line. 

It's a shack. You wait in line outside the shack.

My first trip to Snow’s was about 3 months after the publication. My BBQ obsessed posse and I decided to wait out the storm, hoping after 6 months some of the insanity would have subsided. We were dead wrong. Arriving in Lexington, about 9:00-9:15am, I remembered feeling this insane amount of angst that they would run out of BBQ before I got to the front of what was approximately a 40 minute line. It was a hot and muggy morning, and the humidity was as thick as the tension in the air. I believe there was actually a point where the pit masters had to turn people away around 9:45-10:00 because seeing the line in front of them they knew there wouldn’t be a chance of those poor souls getting a lick of BBQ. We ordered the staples – brisket, ribs, sausage – as well as a cut of their mysterious smoked pork. I still remember that first experience – smoky, sweet, tender, salty brisket, with a touch of their sauce. 

Perfect. I wasn’t ready to claim it beat out Cooper’s, and still may not be, but can’t say a bad thing about any of it. We left that meal like all good BBQ roadtrips, filled to the brim, with a meat coma setting in soon enough.

I’ve been back a few times since, and have had everywhere from a 9 out of 10 BBQ experience, to a full on “this could be the best bite of BBQ I’ve ever had”. Nothing short of superb, and a few times, so spectacular I get weak in the knees. 

What a pit. And I'm not sure there is any man more Texan than this fellow.

For the most recent fat kid field trip, we had a decent sized posse. Jacob was in town from London, and wanted to hang out so I suggested a road trip to Snow’s – along with BBQ enthusiast and brother Adam, as well as Asa. We met up with Skillachy and Greichten and the Chodes. The drive to Lexington, TX takes exactly one hour from my doorstep to the restaurant on a Saturday morning. It’s pretty much a straight shot down 290 until you pass through Elgin and get on to FM 696. Much like the drive to Lockhart/Luling – its butt ugly, relatively flat. Its drives like this that make me ever thankful I have an AUX jack to plug in iTunes and just jam out.

We left the house around 10:30 and arrived right at 11:30. It must be noted that this was the first time I had left for Snow’s this late in the morning. Although the business has slowed quite a bit since first publication, they still sell out around 10:30-11:00 of most of the good stuff, and are essentially all closed down by noon. A few of our field trippers knew a trick however, where you can call ahead and “reserve” BBQ to pick up later. I called in around 9:00 – reserved my food, and was supremely happy I called when I did, as by the time we had shown up, the ribs were long sold out, and mostly only brisket and sausage remained. Half of the crew called in too late, and were not able to reserve ribs (suckassssss). The timing and quality were inextricably linked. I have written in the past BBQ has this “bewitching hour” between about 11:30 and 1, where you are guaranteed to get the best of the best in terms of flavor, temperature, quality, and tenderness. At Snow’s that window likely exists between 8:30-10:00.

While the BBQ was still unbelievable, this was easily the “worst” of the trips I have taken to Snow’s. I blame some of that on mindset – I felt like I was cheating a bit for not getting up at the crack of dawn, hungover, dehydrated, slightly angry, and drearily driving to Snow’s to just wait in line. This was the ritual, this was the custom. The pain and suffering were always worth it in the past – it just made the end product that much more sweet when you know you had earned it. But beyond my psychological qualms – it was also a quality issue. The food was, as I have said before, still fantastic, but when you are  a true fat kid like me, you notice when the meat has been “sitting” a while, or you get a piece a little overly crusty, a sausage slightly oversmoked. Would any of these issues have been solved by coming at 9:00-9:30? Who knows. I just like to believe they would based on past experience.

It was ALL MINEEEEEE

 

On to the food: my order consisted of ¾ lb of brisket, ½ lb of pork ribs, a few cuts of pork, and 2 links of sausage, along with the traditional white bread, jalapenos, pickles, and a glass of sweet tea. The ribs were the clear cut winners (as a properly prepared pork rib usually is anywhere). A perfect balance between tender and resilient, they came off the bone with little effort but weren’t mush. The salt rub and seasoning was spectacularly portioned; the meat was intensely flavorful but not overly influenced in one way or another between salt, pepper, or smoke. A touch of Snow’s phenomenal BBQ sauce was a nice twist, but the ribs stood out on their own. The brisket was also phenomenal, but I was given the short end of the stick, and half of my order was fatty brisket (the prized possession), while the other half was lean. The fatty brisket was devoured with some dill pickles and sauce within an instant, while I kept the lean brisket as leftovers. The pork (is it butt? Shoulder? I have no idea what cut) was tender, juicy, and intensely smoky. A real treat. The sausage was a bit of a disappointment that day, however. I’m not sure if they were over smoked, if the recipe has changed, or if it was just an off day but the sausage didn’t cut it this go around. It was a bit drier than normal, and the flavor was relatively one note – it just tasted like “beef”. Dunked in the fantastic, world altering Snow’s BBQ sauce, I still don’t have many / any complaints!

Top 1 or 2 BBQ sauces in Texas...and they serve it to you in an empty water bottle

Despite my reservations with our crew showing up rather late, the environment could not have been better. It was a bit overcast and dreary, but our spirits were high, and we just ate, sat, laughed, and chatted for at least an hour. The employees at Snow’s could not be any nicer – they are more than happy to pose for a picture, or chat, and the ladies running the register were incredibly accommodating. The pit masters were tending to their business but wanted to swing by and make sure everyone could see the action if they wanted – and Tootsie spent most of the morning washing out coolers and barking orders. Hilariously the music on the speakers switched at one point from Texas country to an indie-hipster dance mix, with the likes of MGMT and Ghostland Observatory blasting through the speakers for 30 minutes. It was a bit surreal to say the least.

Overall this trip to Snow’s was one of firsts. It was the first time I’ve ordered ahead, but it was also the first time I’ve had the ability to chat and bullshit with my friends and truly make the trip about something more than just senseless face stuffing. I think it’s the first time I’ve left Snow’s with half of my food, and will be the first time I can throw some of that delicious smoky goodness in a soup. Even if the sausage wasn’t perfect – it will be the PERFECT addition to a kale and white bean soup later this week.

Until next time.

-Dutch

Dutchie Does Turkey Day

Thanksgiving. America’s great food holiday. In my family, any gathering or special occasion is basically just an excuse for some over the top culinary experience. I know in most households across the country, however, this is not always the case. That is not to say that most people don’t appreciate a good meal, or the effort involved to make one, but food is not the primary objective for every gathering quite to the extent it is in my family.

Except for Thanksgiving. While there is something certainly patriotic and distinctly American about Thanksgiving, we all know what the day is about: the feast. It’s a day of Turkey and sides and drunkassery and football. Sure, you want to spend it with family and friends and make an extravaganza out of it, but the day is nothing without the feast.

What’s so unique about this one day is that in opposition to most other holidays, a feast is the signifying event. It’s a recreation and remembrance of a feast that took place hundreds of years ago. The feast is the symbol, the main event, and the first thing everyone thinks of when you say Thanksgiving. Christmas and Easter are religious holidays with their own distinct rituals, 4^th of July has fireworks and pool parties, New Year’s Eve has everything from a ball dropping to fireworks to a kiss; Thanksgiving has the turkey.

This also presents an incredible opportunity and an incredible amount of pressure on those who are preparing the feast. Basically everyone makes some variation of the exact same dishes with a bit of variance thrown in based on what part of the country you are in, the skill/patience of your chefs, and family recipes and traditions. I’ve heard stories (and experienced firsthand) examples of people who admittedly couldn’t cook their way out of a cardboard box put on an epic feast with some truly remarkable dishes and execution. I’ve had a turkey cooked about 20 different ways. I’ve seen some meltdowns…but most of this is around the fact that some people just plain suck at event planning and logistics. The dishes aren’t terribly difficult, you just need zen like focus on amounts, times, order of operations, and counter/oven space. The rest is basic execution, and as I alluded to earlier, most everyone I know is capable of this, or at the very least following directions.

If you’ve read this blog before you know I’m pretty awful with recipes. I don’t generally believe in them…I am horrendous at following them, worse at writing them down, and see them most useful as a general list of ingredients and order of operations as opposed to an exact science. This is why my baking/pastries skills are so hit or miss. It’s also why I can turn leftovers into a masterpiece, and improvise with the best of them.

May I humbly present to all of you the Dutchie Thanksgiving. I’ve cooked Thanksgiving dinner twice in my life, and will be doing a third run this year with my family coming into town. The dinners went off without a hitch both years. If you are watching your cholesterol or are lactose intolerant, you may want to shield your eyes. I was once guilty of using 13 sticks of butter during one Thanksgiving feast. It went down as one of the greatest things I’ve ever cooked. Our stuffing is a bit non-traditional. The mashed potatoes are the best mashed potatoes you will ever eat. Turkey is an easy thing…with the right equipment and a tasty brine. Gravy is a snap.

The Dutchie Thanksgiving:

Brined Turkey & Gravy

Orange Apricot and Pecan Stuffing

Maple Whipped/Mashed Potatoes

Fresh Orange Cranberry Sauce

Bourbon and Tarragon Glazed Carrots

Salad with Sherry Dijon Vinaigrette

Brined Turkey and Gravy

First let’s set some ground rules here:

1)      Brine your turkey. If you deep fry ‘em or smoke ‘em, you’re on your own here and more power to you. If you don’t, I don’t quite blame you. I also don’t think there is a better way to cook a bird than a solid, flavorful brine and oven roasting. It imparts so much juiciness and flavor that I find this an essential step.

2)      Use a roasting rack. A good roasting rack really makes a hell of a difference. I got a $40(?) roasting rack from Costco a few years ago and would never go back. It helps cook the bird more quickly and evenly than you could imagine, and makes an awesome vessel for the gravy later.

3)      Stuff and truss your bird. There are a lot of people who freak about putting the stuffing actually in the bird’s cavity. To them I have a few things to say:

a.       If you are brining the bird and effectively clean it out, I’m not sure what there is really to worry about.

b.      Cooking the stuffing in the bird gives both an unparalleled flavor. Cooking the stuffing in a separate dish just never works quite as well.

c.       If you are still really freaking out about it and can’t bring yourself to do it – make sure and stuff your bird with something. Some quartered apples, onions, sage, and celery make good work. But you’d be better off stuffing it with stuffing if you ask me…

Brining your Turkey prevents this from happening

Some of you may be asking – what is brining exactly? Brining is a process similar to marinating – it’s a way to add juiciness and flavor to meats. You make a solution of equal parts salt and sugar (2 to 1 in this recipe), a base of other spices/flavorings, and put that into cold water. Drop your meat in for a period of 12-24 hours, rinse the meat off, and cook. Pork takes ESPECIALLY well to this preparation. A brined then grilled pork chop is one of the world’s greatest creations. A brined turkey is the only way to make a whole turkey, if you ask me. Brine your turkey approximately 24 hours before cooking it. If you can only muster 12-18 hours – no worries, the effort will be well worth it.

The brine:

1 cup kosher salt

1/2 cup (light) brown sugar

1 handful of peppercorns

Chopped fresh sage

6 bay leaves

4 cloves of garlic, smashed

2 oranges cut into slices

A ton of water

Quick turkey broth (optional) – sauté the gizzards and neck in a pan with olive oil on high heat until fully browned. Add water, and bring to a boil. Let simmer for 30-45 minutes, and you have a basic turkey broth. Use this either in the brine (it will make your turkey taste more like…turkey), or as the stock for your turkey gravy.

In a large pan over high heat combine the salt, sugar, peppercorns, sage, bay leaves, garlic, oranges, and a bit of water. Although most brines are usually equal parts sugar and salt, using less for this turkey is the standard. Stir to combine. Once it comes to a boil, reduce the heat to medium and let the mixture “steep” for a few minutes. Essentially you will be letting the turkey sit in this mixture (with a bunch more water and some ice to keep the temperature cold) for 24 hours, so find a cooler large enough to hold your bird, put the bird inside, and add this mixture (once cooled) with water and ice to cover the bird. Let it sit in the cooler for upwards of 24 hours (add more ice as time goes on – last thing you want is a turkey sitting at room temperature all night!). I once had to buy a 5 gallon plastic paint bucket from Home Depot (cost around $3) to fit our 26 lb turkey in, and it worked perfectly.

No seriously, we used this exact thing

The next morning, thoroughly rinse out your bird to wash out all the salt brine. Pat the bird dry with paper towel, and allow it to sit out for 20-30 minutes and come back up to temperature. Rub the bird down with olive oil, salt and pepper the inside and outside of the bird, and stuff it with your already made stuffing (or alternative listed earlier). Truss the bird, set on your turkey rack. At the bottom of the roasting tray, put in some segments of onion, carrot, and celery, a stick of butter, and some chicken stock you’ve brought to a boil. Put the turkey rack in the roasting tray, and pop it in a 425 degree oven for an hour. After approximately an hour, continue to baste the bird with the chicken stock/butter mixture every 30 or so minutes. Add more butter or stock as necessary. Drop the temp down to 350 and continue baking until it hits 160-165 degrees (somewhere in the 10-15 pounds per minute range).

When it hits the 160ish range, pull the bird and allow it to sit on it’s turkey rack. Strain the veggies and butter/stock mixture out of the bottom of the roasting rack. Reserve some of this liquid, separating the fat. In the roasting rack (or a separate pan if you are short on space) – brown some butter (or use the fat from the bottom of the pan) over medium-medium high heat. Add flour and whisk to combine. Begin gradually adding stock to this mixture and bring to a boil. A gravy will never reach it’s full thickness until it comes to a boil. If too thick, add more stock. Taste for salt and pepper, add as necessary, and a touch of sherry vinegar (or apple cider vinegar/red wine vinegar if you don’t have any on hand).

Slice the bird after giving it at least 15 minutes to rest.

Orange Apricot and Pecan Stuffing

I used to claim I hated stuffing as a small kid. My dad made this stuffing (originally for grilled Cornish Game Hens, I believe), and changed my mind immediately. Unbelievable. It is certainly non-traditional, but is also certainly stuffing. Forgive my lack of preciseness on the recipe. We just kinda roll with the punches every time this is made. The chewiness of the dried apricots, the sweetness, and the crunchiness of the pecans all comingle so nicely. It’s balanced, harmonious, and a true show stopper. If you’re looking to lively up your thanksgiving, add something different, give this a shot.

Note: Do this the night before you bake your turkey. It needs ample time to cool. It also GREATLY intensifies the flavor when the stuffing has a day to sit and allow all of the flavors to comingle. You could get away with making this two nights before if you really had a bug up your ass and would be just fine – it may actually taste better that way.

Stale, Cubed Bread for Stuffing

Chopped Pecans

4-6oz Dried Apricots, chopped

~1 cup Orange Juice

Chicken Stock

Orange Zest

1 stick of Butter

1-2 Onions diced

3-4 stalks of Celery diced

Dried Sage

Salt & Pepper

For the bread I can usually find most grocery stores in their bakery section have strips of bread for stuffing lined out. It’s been pre-dried/toasted, and comes in long rectangles. It’s nothing too special, but absolutely perfect for this. If you can find it – do it. If not, make your own, just cut off the crusts, cube up some bread, and let it sit over a mesh tray over night. 

Set your bread in a large bowl off to the side.

Heat a large pot over medium high heat. Add the butter, and melt/brown. Add the onion and celery, salt and pepper. Cook the onion and celery through until soft. Once soft, add your chicken stock, OJ, and orange zest and allow the mixture to reduce to concentrate the flavor. My dad and I always throw in a curveball with the liquids. Sometimes chicken bouillon cubes are added to really intensify the flavor. Sometimes he deglazes the pan with brandy or rum prior to adding the other ingredients. I may throw in a bit of wild turkey bourbon this year. Add your dried apricots to help rehydrate for a few minutes and a touch of dried sage. Add the chopped pecans at the last minute (toast them in a separate pan first for bonus points). Turn off the heat and pour the mixture over the cubed bread and mix in. You want the mixture to soften the bread but not make it completely dissolve/lose it’s texture, just soften so everything can nicely form together and remain moist while baking. I know it’s a fine line – but like most things with baking, always add a little at a time. If you need more liquid, it’s always easy to add. If you add too much and everything becomes too soggy, there’s really no going back.

Maple Whipped Mashed Potatoes

I make the self proclaimed greatest mashed potatoes on planet earth. There’s nothing too terribly difficult about them. Boil russet potatoes, salt and pepper the hell out of them, whip together with copious amounts of dairy, and add one secret ingredient: pure maple syrup. The contrast between the saltiness (seriously, you need to add a ton of salt to these bastards), and a slight hint of smoky sweetness is unmatchable. My mom ran out of brown sugar one night (which she normally used), and resorted to maple syrup. We thought it was so good we never went back – and thus the recipe was born. The men in my family have always been the cooks, but this is certainly one divine act where my mom requires all of the thanks and praise. Her love of cooking with buttermilk should also be noted – the tanginess of the buttermilk and sour cream are irreplaceable. I’m going to just throw out proportions as opposed to actual measurements. I have no freaking idea how much of anything we use, just basic proportions.

Russet Potatoes – peeled and chopped into pieces about the size of an oreo double stuffed cookie (like my measurements now?)

1 part butter (I usually make 3-5 lbs of potatoes and have never once used less than a stick of butter on the potatoes)

1-2 parts buttermilk (based on consistency)

1 part sour cream

 Salt and pepper

A few tablespoons of maple syrup (based on taste and consistency)

First note: the potatoes MUST be russet potatoes (or something similarly starchy for those outside the US). White potatoes, red potatoes, and any other innumerous waxy varieties just don’t work. They don’t have the proper amount of starch and just turn out waxy instead of perfectly mashed/whipped. 

Second note: cubing the potatoes makes a world of difference. It helps them cook a shit ton faster, and you do lose a touch of starch to the water with all that surface area. It also helps them cook more evenly.

Third note: always start the potatoes in cold water. If you start them in boiling water the outsides of the potatoes cook quicker than the insides. Not good. Start with cold water. This is also helpful because you can peel, cut, and put in water then just forget about them for like 30 minutes.

Combine the potatoes in a pot and cover with cold water. Add a bit of kosher salt, and bring the water to a boil. Once cooked to fork tender, strain the potatoes. Return to the pot (DO NOT RINSE UNDER ANY CIRUMSTANCES), and set the heat to low. Add your butter, slap a lid on the pot, and let it sit for about 2-3 minutes. Take a beater (like the one mom would always use to make cookies), and begin to whip the potatoes together. Add sour cream and buttermilk, salt and pepper, and the maple syrup. Whip until you get a nice consistency. It’s usually best to add the dairy in parts – you want to ensure the correct texture on the potatoes, something that is moist, but not so moist that the potatoes become truly “whipped” and airy. You want some denseness, but never at the expense of the potatoes being dry. I can’t stress enough that correct salt and peppering, and amount of buttermilk really make this dish. You want something salty and tangy, with the maple syrup and pepper cutting through that to create balance and synergy.

Fresh Orange and Cranberry Sauce

What is Thanksgiving without cranberry sauce? Never bother with the canned stuff – amazing cranberry sauce is made quickly and easily. 

Fresh Cranberries (frozen to substitute if necessary)

Brown sugar

Water

Cinnamon stick

Orange zest

Orange liquor

Bay Leaves

Saute your cranberries over medium high heat with brown sugar. Once the sugar begins to dissolve and forms a slight caramel at the bottom, deglaze the pan with some orange liquor (Gran Marnier / Cointreau) and add enough water so that they are almost covering the cranberries. Add orange zest, bay leaves, and a whole cinnamon stick. Boil for 5-10 minutes so the cranberries break down, but not entirely. I like a chunky sauce, so I don’t want the cranberries broken down entirely. Remove the bay leaves and cinnamon stick, transfer the mixture to a bowl, and allow it to cool. Overnight is better if possible. You want the cranberries to have a chance to release their pectin and then seize up. I’d give it at least 4 hours, but again, overnight is better.

Bourbon and Tarragon Glazed Carrots

Really simple and a crowd favorite. The tarragon adds a wonderful freshness and slight anise flavor, as well as some color to the dish. This is a slightly modified version of a family favorite. My grandpa always referred to it as his favorite 3 things in one dish, the 3B’s Carrots: Brandy, Butter, and Brown Sugar.

Baby carrots

Water

Brown sugar

Butter

Bourbon

Salt

Dried tarragon

Put your baby carrots in a pan/pot with enough water to cover. If you are cooking a lot of carrots, put 1.5x to cover in the cooking vessel. Turn the heat on high, add some salt and a dollop of butter, and allow the carrots to boil. Stir occasionally. As the carrots continue to cook, and the water evaporates, check the doneness of the carrots. I’d estimate the whole process takes 20-30 minutes to cook. If the carrots are not done yet and the water completely evaporates, simply add some more. If you can time it just right the water will evaporate at the same time the carrots are done. Once fully cooked, remove any excess water, turn the pan on high. Add a good bit of butter, and allow to brown, coating the carrots. Salt and pepper, and add some brown sugar. Add some bourbon, flame off the bourbon, and add the dried tarragon at the last minute.

Salad with Sherry Dijon Vinaigrette 

I like something green on my plate, especially with all of the heavy, buttery dishes surrounding this meal. It may be sacrilegious to some of you, but I’ve never been fond of green bean casserole. Asa makes what is hands down the best green bean casserole I’ve ever had, but I still can’t get down with the general concept. Don’t ask me why, I’ve quit trying to figure it out. A homemade dressing going over some crispy greens, garnished with grated carrots, candied / toasted pecans, and fresh pomegranates is perfect to help cut through the rest of the meal.

Sherry Dijon Vinaigrette

3-4 parts good olive oil

1 part sherry vinegar

1 part lemon juice

1 part Dijon mustard (maybe slightly less)

Chopped garlic to taste

Honey

Kosher salt

Fresh cracked black pepper

Dried tarragon or fresh parsley (optional)

Whisk together the lemon juice, vinegar, honey, and mustard. Add the oil slowly to form an emulsion. Add your chopped garlic, salt and pepper, and herbs. Taste and adjust as necessary – many times the recipe will feel rather vinegary (which is good) but needs a touch more honey and a touch more oil to even that out. 

For the salad – just combine some greens (for Thanksgiving I like using Romaine lettuce, but typically I love this dressing with either fresh baby spinach or arugula) in a large bowl. Optionally add some grated carrot, toasted or candied nuts, and fresh pomegranates. Toss with the dressing.

Have a happy Thanksgiving, y’all. It’s a holiday where everyone is a fat kid. Enjoy some food, some wine, some company, and hopefully a Longhorn victory over pooooooorrr aggy.

-Dutch

Pancetta - Pork Fat of the Gods

I grew up watching cooking shows. About the time I moved to Texas (’99) Food Network started getting some legs and putting on some decent programming. Some of my favorite shows during that period were the original (Japanese) Iron Chef, and Emeril Live. My whole family would watch football all day on a Sunday, eat some delicious food, and camp our asses on the couch to watch cooking shows later that night – when things like soccer, school or work didn’t get in the way. In retrospect, this may actually explain quite a bit about why I turned out the way I did…

For anyone who watched “Emeril Live” like I did, you know he always had these ridiculous catch phrases that his slack jawed hokie audience would cheer for every time he said them. The guy was/is actually a pretty great chef, and as opposed to Sandra Lee and Rachel Ray, was inspiring people to cook the right way, you know, using actual ingredients, making things from scratch, and understanding technique as opposed to convenience. He dumbed plenty of things down, but all that was easily offset by all the things he did right. One of his favorite catch phrases, and certainly my favorite, was “pork fat rules”. Though I didn’t quite understand it fully until I started cooking for myself – there was just something so inherently wonderful about pork fat that it had to be right.

Yes Please

Around 19 I really started cooking for myself and tried experimenting with different techniques, styles, and flavors that I had picked up from my dad, TV, and magazines. The first recipe I created from the ground up was my attempt at a “sauceless” pasta. Having recently had pancetta for the first time, I decided to base a dish around pancetta, and the liquid gold it renders out. Pancetta – for those not in the know, is an Italian bacon that is cured (but not smoked) and much more highly spiced. I’ve said it’s one of the two greatest substances known to man once, and I will say it rather unashamedly again. The whole concept of the dish was a “pork fat rules” mentality: I was going to make a dish where the “sauce” was a ton of pork fat and some other chunky ingredients.

Bam!ing all the way to the bank

What I came up with is the Farfalle with Pancetta dish listed below. It’s quite a sentimental dish for me – one of the ultimate comfort foods. It was the first recipe I had created of my own volition. It was the first (and sadly last meal) I was able to cook for my Grandpa before he passed and a memory I recall fondly. It’s my favorite person in the whole world’s favorite dish. It’s the first dish I ever taught at a “cooking class”. It’s what I make when I’m feeling really high or really low as food for the soul. It’s going to be the first thing I put on whatever restaurant I open someday. It’s what I made for a bunch of friends last Sunday and something I hope you all enjoy as much as I do.

Farfalle with Pancetta and Chicken

½ lb of Pancetta – sliced on a 4 (about the thickness of your pinky) and cubed

2-3 chicken breasts (about 1.5-2 lbs), cubed

1 white onion, diced

3-4 cloves of garlic, minced

1 10oz container of Cherub Tomatoes, halved

1 can of large black pitted olives, rinsed and halved

1 lb of Farfalle/Bowtie Pasta

Olive Oil

Fresh Basil

Crushed Red Pepper Flakes

Grated Parmesan Cheese

Prep work in this dish is HIGHLY rewarded. It’s a relatively quick and simple preparation – so long as you have your shit together. Do your prep ahead of time, set off to the side, and work in the steps located. It’s a 2 pot meal if done correctly, and can take as little as 45 minutes including chopping and cooking if you can get the prep done quickly.

Start by cubing your chicken into bite size pieces. Set aside in a bowl, season with salt and pepper and a drizzle of olive oil.

Cube your pancetta into pieces about the size of your thumb and set aside.

Mince your onion, garlic, and halve the tomatoes and black olives. Wait to chop the basil until the last minute. It oxidizes and turns brown when you cut it too early in the process, and the fresh lift and color it gives the dish is maximized when you chop at the absolute last second.

Heat your pasta water in one pot. Get a Dutch Oven / large pot heated over medium high heat. When hot, add enough olive oil to coat the pan and add your chicken pieces. Brown on all sides (until cooked), and remove everything into a separate bowl.

Turn the heat down to medium, and add your pancetta. Stir it every minute or two, for about 8-12 minutes until the pancetta has turned golden and crispy, and rendered out most all of it’s fat. If it’s not rendering much fat, add a bit of olive oil to the bottom of the pan after a few minutes and continue cooking. Remove the pancetta from the pan but leave all of the pancetta fat in the pan. The fat from the pancetta is what will basically become your sauce. Don’t lose a drop if at all possible.

Turn the heat back up to medium high and add your onions. Salt and pepper the onions immediately and wait for them to turn translucent – approximately 6-8 minutes. 

Perfect time to add the garlic

Add the garlic and as much red pepper flakes as you think you can handle and let it cook for another 30 second to a minute. If you’re not a spice fan, add at least a little bit. For the rest of you, the crushed red pepper flakes really add a tremendous depth to the dish, so don’t be shy. Add your halved tomatoes and olives and wait for the juices to release on the tomatoes. At this point, you should add your farfalle pasta to salted pasta water.

Continue cooking and stirring the “sauce” as your pasta cooks. Add the chicken and pancetta (along with all of their juices) back to the pot once the tomatoes have started to break down a bit. You can turn down the temperature to medium again once the tomatoes start to break down. If the sauce is looking a bit tight (not much liquid) add a bit of the pasta water. Once the pasta is al dente, drain the pasta (BUT NEVER EVER EVER EVER EVER RINSE), and add the pasta to your pot. Turn off the heat, toss the pasta in the sauce, thoroughly mixing the ingredients together. Add a heavy chiffonade of basil to the pot and a few heavy handfuls of freshly grated parmesan cheese. Stir to combine and serve - or transfer to a large bowl so the noodles don't overcook.

Should this be censored?

Let me know when you have a chance to try this. It will rock your world. Guaranteed.

Fat Kid Field Trip to Japan - For Free?

Hey Fat Kids,

In case you haven't heard - the Japanese government is considering giving away as many as 10,000 free round trip flights to Japan - so long as you write a review/blog on the experience and share it with others. I guess I have a new couple of goals over the next few months - save some money, build up a better following, and convince a Japanese Tourism board I am worthy of one of these tickets. I'd still end up blowing an inordinate amount of money while in Japan - eating and drinking my way through the trip, but cutting $2k out of the equation would certainly help.

So who's coming with me? Who's gonna help me generate some traffic and buzz?

-Dutch

Field Trippin to San Francisco and Vegas

Fat Kids -

Thanks for sticking with me. I know there’s been an uncomfortable amount of radio silence lately, and I apologize for that (notice a recurring theme anyone?). I published my magnum opus last time around in the Dutchie Does Dining piece, which thanks to some props from the lovely Chloe Chiang, the impeccable La Condesa, and my CMO, has accounted for almost half the traffic volume this blog has ever received. Thanks, y’all! So you may (or may not) be wondering, where’s Dutchie been? What’s he been eating/drinking/cooking as of late? What kind of field trips has he been taking?

August was a pretty amazing and exhausting month for the fat kid field tripper. I started the month with a trip to San Francisco, got to play tour guide for LouLou for a week, spent a weekend in Vegas, got to play tour guide for LouLou and Ben for the next week, and then headed to San Francisco (for work) once again, for a week. I’ve spent the last month recovering from this booze and food filled adventure, and will be embarking on another month of insanity in October between OU weekend, two bachelor parties (one in NOLA), KMFBrix visiting town, and Halloween. Enough foreplay, on to the main event.

Editor’s note: I’m writing this with a tall glass of Talisker (my all-time favorite Scotch) accompanying a piece of Truluck’s Carrot Cake (Austin’s best dessert) and listening to some Pharaoh Sanders and John Coltrane. There may be a bit of euphoria flowing through me on this random weeknight. Excuse the hyperbole that is to follow; and the rather detailed description of 16 some restaurants…

San Francisco – Round 1

My younger brother (The Freshman) was going off to his first semester of college, so we decided we had to plan a trip. One of our favorite bands, and the best damn live band I’ve still ever seen (it’s all about stage energy folks), was breaking up, and their final show was to be played on a Sunday in August in San Francisco. It was settled, we would fly to San Francisco early on Friday, stay through Monday, and eat our way through the city…making sure to refrain from passing out just long enough to catch the show. Our flight arrived at close to 10am on Friday morning, and we hopped the BART to our hotel, the Historic Palace Hotel – which we got at $20 less than the Best Western (God Bless Hotwire.com). I had finagled a business meeting with a vendor of mine to take place at a restaurant, and got the guy’s company to pick up the tab. For lunch, we chose the landmark R&G Lounge in Chinatown.

 

R&G Lounge, as you may have seen on the No Reservations - San Francisco episode, is a rock solid Chinese restaurant near the edge of Chinatown. It fits all of the criteria for a place you want to be eating Chinese food at: You see a ton of Chinese people there (and in this case, not just Chinese Americans), the place is CONSTANTLY busy, and the service is pretty horrible (seriously, if the service is good, they’ve sold out and gotten to Americanized). 

The Freshman, the businessman, and myself show up, and they ask if we mind being seated at a table with other people. Being from Texas, and frequenting BBQ joints and the like, this doesn’t seem all too strange. Then they take us upstairs, and set us at one of those massive round tables that serves like 10 people, with like 3 other parties of diners; very strange, especially when talking business for a portion of the meal. The house specialty is a Salt & Pepper Crab, which is basically a ginormous crab that’s lightly battered in a salt and pepper batter, and deep fried. So simple, but here…it’s divine. You get it all over the place, and you’re covered in grease by the end (you still need to break apart the shell), but it’s totally worth it. The “Three Treasures with Black Bean Sauce” is another must – essentially it’s eggplant, peppers, and tofu that are all roasted, stuffed with some awesome shrimp filling, and covered in a black bean sauce. Naturally sweet, texturally contrasting, and sometimes slightly spicy, it’s a winner.

We finished the lunch, and wandered around for a while. I think we might have went shopping and explored Union Square before heading back to the hotel and passing out in an MSG induced coma. I don’t really remember to be all that honest.

Our next meal took us to meeting up with KMFBrix, Dan, and Ota at Foreign Cinema in the Mission. A strong recommendation by KMFBrix, it ended up being the best meal I had that trip for a number of reasons. The ambiance of the restaurant is a major allure – it’s located in a sketchy looking part of the Mission, actually on Mission, in an abandoned movie theater. At night, they play old/eclectic movies on this giant wall in the back (it’s actually 60% open air seating, with giant windows everywhere else). I’ve also read somewhere it’s a Chez Panisse spinoff, which is always a plus. The cocktail menu was absurd, and I believe it’s all changed since we were last there, but I do distinctly remember one of the heavily Amaro flavored cocktails tasting like cough syrup.

Anywho – the food was a real knockout. KMFBrix and I split some oysters (it is important to point out she really enjoys “creamy” oysters), and the table had ordered some mussels (divine) and a seared squid with romesco. Not a negative word to be said about any. For entrees I got the mixed grill (lamb, pork belly, quail, and some other random awesomeness), and I believe KMFBrix did as well. We kinda won at life that night, as we certainly had the best entrees, with The Freshman’s order of risotto being the most disappointing. Note to anyone reading this blog – if you’ve had my risotto, never order it at a restaurant. You will walk away disappointed – restaurants just can’t do it right. Dessert was pretty fantastic as well – a highlight was the crazy interpretation they did of a s’more with a homemade passionfruit marshmallow or some such nonsense. Drinks at the adjoining Laszlo bar are also highly encouraged – although there are cooler places in the Mission to grab a drink.

The next morning, The Freshman and I wake up and walk to the Saturday Morning Farmer’s Market at the Ferry Building. For those not in the know, the Ferry Building…well used to be a Ferry Building. It’s on the bay (Duh) and ferries make frequent stops there. The inside has been renovated/decked out with a bajillion food stalls, selling everything from pickles to cheese to mushrooms to gourmet meats, seafoods, wines, etc. It’s a foodie’s heaven – you can get most anything you would want or need, and better quality than you can expect to find anywhere else. Outside on Saturdays they also have a farmer’s market that is something truly spectacular. Imagine the bounty of the Bay Area’s finest produce and vendors, put them mere feet outside the world famous Ferry Building, and you get my drift. 

The Freshman and I did the only logical thing one should do – plan a picnic, buy an inordinate amount of food and a good bottle of wine, and take it to Golden Gate park. Amongst our stops that day were Baccalone (Chris Cosentino of Food Network fame’s cured pig parts stall), Cowgirl Creamery (unfriggin believable cheeses), an Empanada dealer (best I’ve ever had), a great bakery, a wine shop, and a few of the local produce vendors. The bottle of Oakville Zin we purchased might have been the only California wine we drank the entire trip (an absolute shame, I know), and a steal for $20. A quick $15 cab ride, and we were smack dab in the middle of 50 foot trees, having a picnic in Golden Gate Park. Life cannot be more grand.

KMFBrix met up with us later at the Palace Hotel. After trying to figure out what the hell to do until we were to meet with my Catalan buddies who were randomly in town (and Senora Winslow), we walked down to 21^st Amendment Brewery for some good local beer and a snack. Located just a few blocks from AT&T Park, the bar was slammed with Giants fans who were lingering around after the game. 21^st Amendment produces a good variety of brews (also sold in bottles outside of their brewpub), their USB Extra Special Bitter being my favorite. Some funny confrontations took place when one ultra-drunk guy ordered a Watermelon Heffe and had his manhood questioned by some other ultra-drunk guys. Word to the wise, just don’t drink Watermelon Heffe unless you plan on leaving your mancard at home.

Fast forward past a few glasses of Jameson, one Louis CK comedy special, and KMFBrix almost falling asleep, we catch a quick cab ride to Ryoko’s Sushi to meet up with the Catalans and Senora Winslow. Located in that precocious area of San Francisco resting between Union Square and the Tenderloin, it’s definitely a “dive” sushi bar. You go down a set of stairs, and are hit by the DJ mixing music and generally hot and humid environment you are entering. I remember a lengthy wait, all 12 of us being crammed in a tiny room in the back, a ton of laughs, a ton of sake bombs, a pretty awesome neuken in de keuken conversation…but not much else before heading home. Come here for cheap sushi, tons of sake bombs, and an overall good time. Wouldn’t be the top of my “take a date to a sushi restaurant” list, unless that’s her thing. Well – actually, that should probably be her thing, or else she may suck as a person.

The next morning, The Freshman and I meet up with GoogleBrittany, who had recently moved from Austin to work for Google in the Bay Area. She rocks, but is a vegetarian. Those people frighten me – how a person cannot give in to the awesome power that is pork (or other awesome meats), is totally beyond me. We toured the MOMA in the morning, and went to Yank Sing for some authentic Dim Sum. 

The wait, at about 12:30 was about 30 minutes long, but well worth it. I don’t feel the need to elaborate when I can simply say that everything they served me was pretty close to being the best interpretation of that dish I’ve ever had…and that certainly includes nibbles of GoogleBrittany’s veggie dishes. It’s a Dim Sum restaurant that does enough business it can remain open 7 days a week for lunch, and doubles its seating capacity during the weekends. It’s a James Beard award winning Dim Sum restaurant. It’s that good...and that expensive.  The soup dumplings and shrimp dumplings were the two absolute winners, however.

Dinner the night of the concert subsisted of Hubert Keller’s Burger Bar – located near the top of the Macy’s Flagship Store in Union Square. Hubert Keller – TV chef of Fleur de Lys fame, is the owner of Burger Bar – and I must say, it’s a mighty fine burger and fries. But also wickedly expensive. Oddly, even with the perfectly cooked burger, the zucchini fries with ranch dressing were the real standouts.

Monday morning The Freshman and I wake up in a state of disarray. Our ears are still ringing, bodies bruised and beaten from the pit and the concert, dehydrated to the extreme, but surprisingly not hungover in the least. Taking GoogleBrittany’s advice, that of Setherton, that of a billion of my other foodie friends, and basically everyone on Yelp, we ventured back to the Mission to check out Tartine Bakery. Let me say this: any restaurant good enough to warrant over 3,000 reviews on Yelp and still be consistently ranked as one of the best restaurants in a city this crazed over food is worth the trip. Best.Breakfast.Ever. You may feel saturated with butter or cream afterwards. It’s normal. You may be wondering WHY THE FUCK IS THERE A 30 MINUTE WAIT ON A MONDAY AT 10AM?!?! DON’T YOU FUCKING MISSION HIPSTERS HAVE JOBS? SHOULDN’T YOU BE GROWING A MUSTACHE OR TRYING TO BRING BACK SHITTY DEAD FASHION SOMEPLACE ELSE?

These are all logical and continuous thoughts when heading to Tartine. And then the moment hits: you order a ham and gruyere croissant, or croque monsieur, or whatever, and as soon as it is in your hands you just forget. It’s massive. Fucking UGE (so huge it doesn’t need an H). And so tremendously tender and flaky. And they only use the best cheese and ham and tomatoes and whatever else they put in it. And you devour it. And bask in the perfection that was everything they bake at Tartine.

If you are normal, following a Tartine pig-out you walk a few miles and try to lose all the butterfat before true lethargy sets in. But if you are a true fat kid like The Freshman and I, you stroll around the adjacent Delores Park until Bi-Rite Creamery opens up, and get the best.ice.cream.ever. I almost felt guilty for having just eaten what probably equated to 1200 calories for breakfast, and then followed it up by sitting outside of an ice cream shop at 10:50am on a cloudy 58 degree Monday, waiting 10 minutes for it to open. That was until I saw the velvet ropes they had set up that wrap around the block…preparing for the onslaught they knew they would later have. We walk in, as the first customers of the day, and sample everything they have. Sampling not just flavors, but combinations. Did I mention they serve their samples to you in actual, reusable spoons (pretty cool/ ecofriendly)? I finally settled on a mixture of the Salted Caramel and Burnt Vanilla (which contained peanut brittle for awesome texture)? Ice Cream Perfection. Sorry Amy’s…I still love you, but you aren’t quite playing the same game.

Following truly fat kid kind of morning, The Freshman and I just walk, for probably a good 90 minutes or so. I don’t remember where we started (Union Square?), but we ended up at the famous Lombard Street, took some pictures, and caught a taxi to Cotogna for the last meal of the trip. What a meal it was. Recommended by LC – it’s a kickass little Italian joint in Jackson Square with a wood fired oven that cranks out pizza and homemade pastas. After such a heavy breakfast we stuck with a few light menu options – a cold squid, mint, and chili salad that was to die for, some “pole beans” (green beans) with a pomodoro that was surreal in its tangy sweetness and perfectly al dente texture, and a homemade gnocchi. The highlight of the meal for me was actually a summer Aperol spritzer that had some form of homemade rhubarb (or was it strawberry?) bitters, and an infused smoke flavor. The most refreshing cocktail I’ve ever had – perfectly balanced between effervescent, crisp, and mildly sweet all at once.

So concluded a fantastic trip to San Francisco that left me fat, hungover, broke, and exhausted. A few short days later, LouLou arrived from London, and I immediately go back onto a diet consisting of Polvo’s, Taco Deli, Torchy’s, and Asia Café for a week. We then fly out to Vegas on a late night flight on Friday, and return on a redeye on Sunday Night/Monday Morning and proceed to go to work the next day. Brutal, but epic.

Las Vegas

Vegas is a dangerous place for a man like me. Most anywhere is a dangerous place for a man like me. Instead of saying “Go big or go home” I prefer the mantra “Go big, then go home”. Any city with great food, great drinking, great culture, great nightlife, and gambling is too much for me to handle. So I just go overboard. Fortunately for me, Lady Luck was smiling on me during this trip and I walked away from an epic afternoon at the poker tables covering most every expense on my trip, and never lost a penny beyond that point. But I digress…

Immediately after arriving in Vegas, and checking into our rooms, LouLou and I made the short jaunt over to The Cosmopolitan hotel for our 9:45 reservations at Scott Conant’s Scarpetta. First let me start by saying that even in Vegas, The Cosmopolitan is gaudy. Like over the top, WTF, I can’t believe they let someone build this monstrosity gaudy. And in Vegas, that’s a fucking awesome thing. It was actually a bit confusing trying to find the restaurant on a first glance, but once we did, it was beautifully nestled in its own little nook overlooking the Bellagio and the Strip. Of course LouLou got the view of the strip at the table, while I got to stare at the open kitchen. I think we were both happier that way.

The meal was sublime, the service was excellent, and the attention to detail was pretty staggering considering we were on the late shift and they serve an insane amount of clientele at this place. We started with an heirloom tomato salad, and seared scallops with wild mushrooms. The heirloom tomatoes were excellent, but the scallops were absolutely mind blowing. A perfectly seared scallop is a thing of beauty, and texturally one of nature’s great wonders, but paired with fresh porcini’s and sunchokes, it elevated that most perfectly cooked scallop to a whole new level. LouLou stuck with a homemade tagliatelle in a white truffle cream sauce with spring vegetables, the smell alone was intoxicating. I went the ultimate fat kid route and tried the uber-rich, uber-delicious fresh ravioli with duck and foie gras. It tasted exactly like it sounded, and the pillowy texture, with the slightly chewy pasta was remarkable.  Having neither the energy nor the stomach we skipped desert and went to gamble.

Venturing over to Aria, we sat down at a Pai Gow table and milked the free drinks and low risk game for a few hours. During a trip back from the bathroom LouLou was approached by a gentleman of about 45-50, with a thick mustache, who tapped her on the shoulder and said “Excuse me miss, have we met before? You look so familiar”. After a quick 30 second discussion (they had never met), he tells LouLou “I just won $125,000 tonight. Can I buy you a drink?”. LouLou pats him on the shoulder and says “No. But good for you” and sits back down to a $25 minbet game. Story of the weekend for sure.

Saturday was a pretty chill day: shopping, winning money at the poker table, and poolside before heading back to The Cosmopolitan for dinner at Jose Andres’ Jaleo followed by Diplo playing at The Marquee Nightclub. As a quick side note, Jose Andres is a hero of mine. As much as I love Spain, he loves talking about it, sharing it, and teaching people to cook Spanish food more than I could begin to tell you. I DVR all of the guy’s PBS shows. Yeah, I’m a little bit of a freak/nerd, so sue me. It was SLAMMED in Jaleo when we showed up at 7:45 for our reservation.

They brought out a funky iPad for their cocktail and wine menu, which I had never seen before. Before I get much further, I feel compelled to tell you that I was not at all impressed with Jaleo. The weirdness started when we tried to order a bottle of Cava and they almost brought it out in a Porron. For the uninitiated, check out my Calçot post. Next they served us a “patatas bravas” that was basically a potato chip with a bit of brava sauce and some alioli. Not cool, Jose. They also had the audacity to serve us Jamon Iberico de Bellota (the best jamon on earth), sliced with a meat slicer (as opposed to the traditional long knife), and charge us $20+ for what must have amounted to about .05lbs. The scallop with romesco was good, but the romesco lacked umph (surprising, considering I use a slightly modified romesco recipe from Jose for my own), and the scallop just didn’t compare to Scarpetta the night before. The Croquetta de Jamon was probably the best I’ve ever had however, and while I was disappointed, I can’t say anything they served wasn’t tasty – just didn’t meet expectations. I’m still chomping at the bit to try the “secret” restaurant called “e” located in the back. 

We finished up dinner and walked down to Marquee. After seeing multiple sprawling lines; one for VIPs, one for Bottle Service, a few for Guest List, and some line for  randoms, I figured we had no shot of getting in. Little did I understand the power a beautiful woman in Vegas commands, or LouLou’s superstealth club skills. In 5 minutes we had walked to the front of every line and were inside. An unnamed watcher of said events later made a comment along the lines of “How on earth did you make it inside in 5 MINUTES?!?!?” We flew back to Austin the next evening with no real awesome food stories to speak of.

San Francisco - Round 2

Round two to San Francisco was for business, but of course you know I ate well. One of the top 5 meals of my life took place on this trip, as did a number of other great meals and adventures.

We started the fat kid field trip with 5 of us grabbing lunch on Monday at Monk’s Kettle in the Mission. Renowned for their beer selection, think of Monk’s Kettle the same way you would think about a great wine bar. You’re there to drink wine. They built everything on the menu to compliment the wine. On its own, the wine is more than enough, but the badass food (and not just snacks) takes everything to a whole new level.

The beers are expensive, but not easy to find anywhere else. The food is brilliantly prepared, and really does compliment the beer. Joy and I were already a beer (or was it two?) in before the rest of the party arrived, and had polished off a round of fried oysters with tabasco aioli and some of the “beer nuts” (chili and sugar roasted hazelnuts). The whole table (practically) ordered the burger, which was spectacular.  Sampling a few options, the Yellowtail Kolsch was certainly my favorite beer I tried that afternoon.

I met up with KMFBrix later that night for dinner at Flour + Water, also in the Mission. Asahole had seen the restaurant in a recent article, exclaiming it as one of the 10 best places to eat a Pizza in the US. I’d also heard great things about it from LC and her boyfriend Foote, so we met up around 7pm. If I haven’t mentioned yet, KMFBrix is one of the few people (women especially) who embraces the Fat Kid mantra as enthusiastically as I do. Fat Kid is not so much a physical state as it is a mental one – the main purpose/pleasure in life is the next and the best food/beverage manageable. We waited for upwards of an hour for our two-top, and were seated at the end of a massive communal dining table, against the window. I’ve since read, and heard, that Flour + Water is the hardest reservation in all of San Francisco – and based on the steady influx of people in this tiny eatery, it’s very believable. Again – such high expectations resulted in an overall great but mildly disappointing meal. The company couldn’t have been better, but the pizza just lacked that “holy shit” factor that we expected. The starter, an heirloom tomato salad, and the fresh pasta with braised pork, were certainly up to par with Flour + Water’s reputation. I would certainly go back if I was able to snag a reservation, but would stick to the pasta as opposed to the pizza.

Joy and I made a trip to Tartine Bakery the next morning. She didn’t have the heart to tell me she was skeptical that any croissant could be “that good” as I was hyping it up. And then she had it. And admitted, “holy shit, this really is that good”. We also sampled the bread pudding. That was…excessive.

After a full day of Dreamforce sessions, the crew met up at a hotel and decided to go to Betelnut for dinner. While I had booked reservations earlier in the week for 4, I kept calling and expanding it by 1 or 2 people until we had a table of 8. A strong recommendation from a coworker, Betelnut’s Asian Inspired menu was a big hit that night. The food at Betelnut spans almost every cuisine in East Asia (which are all markedly different form one another), and embraces a bit of that tongue-in-cheek tiki bar mentality. It’s difficult to pinpoint where they are being serious, and where they are being ironic (or merely entertaining). The cocktails, while borrowing from that Polynesian / Cantonese thing from decades gone by, offers up one of the best Mojito’s I’ve ever had…and a Thai bird chili cocktail that was pretty epic. The table of 8 must have tried every other menu item, and was at worst, happy with everything ordered. The standouts included the suckling pork (a Tuesday special?), cumin lamb, wagyu beef noodles, Szechuan green beans, and pork belly with scallion pancakes. Overall it was a very enjoyable, very fun, and very satisfying meal, especially for our large party. The fact we took a limo both ways, and got to see Cake play a free show after (in front of ~200 people) didn’t hurt either.

 

Wednesday night Asahole, Joy, Char, and I went to Town Hall in SOMA for what can only be described as one of the top 5 meals of my life. If you’ve made it this far (I think I’m around 4500 words already), it doesn’t get any better than this. To help clarify – I’m the same guy who thinks Taco Deli is his favorite restaurant in Austin. I’m not the kind to praise classiness for classiness’s sake. I’m also not ashamed to spend $$$ when necessary. High end comfort food may be the best way to describe my sweet spot. My favorite meal of all time (by quite a bit) was at Momofuku Ko in NYC – essentially a combination of Korean and French soul food, elevated to 3 star Michelin levels. What Town Hall does so well is take Southern American Cuisine (with particular influence from New Orleans), and runs it through a mastermind Modern American Chef’s mind. The result hits me perfectly in my sweet spot. The best ingredients, prepared most precisely, in a manner that makes a fat kid weak in the knees.

Besides the best Manhattan I’ve had in a very long time, the 4 of us split a bunch of appetizers, 3 entrees, and basically all of the sides. Tuna tartare served with fried green tomatoes and a tabasco vinaigrette: Are you fucking kidding me? How has no one else thought of this before? How have I not had this before? Superb tuna, impeccable fried green tomatoes, a slightly sweet, spicy, and acidic sauce. I’m salivating just writing this. Buttermilk biscuits with red pepper jelly and prosciutto: a perfect biscuit, with ridiculously high quality butter, a red pepper jelly of legend, and amazing salty prosciutto. Possibly the perfect breakfast / late night drunk snack ever, but I will never know that joy. Veal meatballs with potato puree: the best meatball I’ve ever had, and a creamy potato puree below. Unbeatable. Braised oxtail with I don’t remember: Do I look like the type of man to ever turn down or complain about perfectly braised oxtail? For the mains, we had the buttermilk fried chicken, St Louis ribs, and a pork chop. For sides, we had the tater tots, crispy okra, jambalaya, and padron chilies. The pork chop, chilies, and jambalaya can be described as “really really” good. The rest can likely be described as “I want to eat this until it kills me” good.  Perfectly fried chicken – so moist and flavorful, yet crunchy you wonder how it’s possible. A rib unlike anything we do in Texas, but perfectly balanced between smokey, sweet, tender, and crispy. Asahole nearly passed out from excitement upon eating the first bite. Best tater tot I’ve ever encountered is no exaggeration. It was more like a crispy potato croquette, creamy in the middle, structurally sound and crispy on the outside. The fried okra rivaled Perla’s in insane awesomeness. Dessert then blew us away. The coffee and doughnuts were reminiscent of Café Du Monde, and the butterscotch and chocolate pot de crème is un-fuck-wit-able. Just go. Drop what you are doing right now and go. Order what I said, or maybe some other things – they will all be excellent. What the fuck are you still reading this for? Unless you can make it to Momofuku Ko or El Celler de Can Roca more easily (you can’t), this is your best chance at dining perfection in the near term future.

The last night of Dreamforce (and our trip) concluded with dinner at Delfina Pizzeria, and as you guessed, it was in the Mission. Located next to Bi-Rite Grocery, a stone’s throw from Tartine, this was another Setherton recommendation we couldn’t pass up. Joy, Asahole, GoogleBrittany and I met up and had what I believe to be one of the 2-3 best pizzas I’ve ever encountered. Mind you, this was after an approximately 2 hour wait, although at least 45 minutes of that was our fault as we were over at Bi-Rite drinking some cool beers from Russian River Brewing Company that you can’t find in Texas. The pizzas at Delfina most closely resemble the Neapolitan style pizza - in Austin the only place comparable would be Backspace.

It’s all about a well-made crust (a bit crispier than an NYC style pie, but droopier in the center, yet still chewy), balanced flavors, and the highest quality ingredients. Their take on a watermelon and feta salad with mint, chili, and grape tomatoes deserves some high praise.  We ordered two pizzas, a broccoli raab pizza, and a guincale and escarole pizza. Both scored in the 9-10 out of 10 ballpark.

The trip ended the next afternoon, but we had one final stop as a group at R&G Lounge before heading to the airport. It’s worth noting that the Chef’s Beef, and Chow Mein (what we commonly call Lo Mein) were home runs, on top of my normal selection. My only real disappointment was the inability to make it to Rickhouse for a bourbon or two. It’s one of the few bars that’s a MUST stop for me the next time I’m in town.

After writing another 5000+ word post on food and drink I just realized I spend most of my free time thinking about food and drink, talking about food and drink, writing about food and drink, and most importantly, consuming food and drink. I had a friend come into town recently and came to the revelation that every vacation I take, every time I show off my city to new people, it’s always a question of “where can we go eat and drink” and “what can we do that can pass the time between eating and drinking?” While I know that not everyone functions like I do, I feel like every city, every culture, every people, have an innate need to come together so they can eat, drink, and be merry. Or maybe they do those things so they have an excuse to come together. And the best (or worst) of any city can be explored via the establishments that offer you the ability to eat, drink, and be merry. San Francisco may allow me an infinite number of possibilities to experience and espouse about its goodness, but with the right guidance any city worth a shit can show off what makes it fun, unique, and amazing. It just takes the guide and enthusiasm, which is entirely why I wrote the Dutchie Does Dining post – to share with everyone how I see and experience the best of Austin. If you’ve made it this far, I challenge you to do the same for others whenever you can. I’m sure they would be more than willing to pay that kindness forward for you some other time.

-The Dutchman