The Chow Board

Amazing Irish-American food in Utah? Ah yeah!

2010-08-15T16:39:00.000-06:00

The moment you step out of your car in the parking lot and you get a whiff of roasting lamb, and you know this is going to be a good night. Welcome to MacCool’s.

MacCool’s Public House bills itself as an “Irish pub-style family restaurant for ALL to enjoy!” Culinary speaking, it serves traditional Irish fare with local influences.

All your Irish favorites are there. The appetizers start the menu off full-steam with bangers & mash, sweet potato fries, and lamb ribs. Remember the smoky BBQ smell in the parking lot? Multiply that by a million and that’s the flavor you’ll be enjoying with a Jenga-esque stack of char-grilled lamb ribs. The sauce is definitely boss though, so don’t worry if you’re a lamb virgin. It’s delicious and sweet. No meal at MacCool’s is complete without lamb ribs and one point or another.

MacCool’s has a smorgasbord of nine different salads, including the Tossed Salmon (char-grilled salmon fillet chopped and tossed with grilled green beans, tomatoes, candied walnuts, dill, shallot, and yogurt dressing) and the Curry Chicken Salad (smoked chicken, peanuts, red grapes, spring mix, cucumber, curry dressing).

The menu also boasts no fewer than 15 tempting sandwiches (and nine burgers!). There’s the traditional Irish corned beef special, and even a sandwich made with their house smoked gravlox (potato cakes), bacon, red onion, and tomato on ciabatta. The BBQ pulled pork sandwich puts their legendary sauce to good use. As with all of their meats, you can tell it’s fresh and all made in house. The BBQ pork sammy comes with slaw and a mix of russet and sweet potato fries.

The Traditional Irish Fare entrees include fish & chips, corned beef & cabbage, stews, chowders, and several meat pies. In addition to the Classic Sheppard’s Pie with roast beef, there’s its American cousin, the Buffalo Sheppard’s Pie. This dish convinced me that bison was meant to be eaten in pie form. Buffalo burgers, steaks, and jerky are just too dry to really be enjoyed. But mixed with venison and Andouille sausage simmered in English ale, and layered with roasted corn, mushrooms, mashed potatoes and Irish cheddar? Yes, sir, I do believe you are a genius.

Finally there’s the Ploughman’s Breakfast. This meatfest includes four lamb ribs, two fried eggs, two strips of bacon, a potato cake, sourdough toast, and the best sausage I’ve ever had stateside. The sausage (called a banger) was exploding with delicious, fresh, natural flavor. There were no distracting herbs or spices. It didn’t need any. The meat stood on its own two feet.

Summary: Please, for the love of food, go eat at MacCool’s as fast as you can.
Rating: Astronomical

Salt Lake (1400 S. Foothill Blvd.), South Jordan (11610 S. Main District Dr.), and Layton (855 W. Heritege Park Blvd.) Open from about 11am-10pm daily. http://www.maccools-utah.com/

One Bite Review: The Copper Onion

2010-07-23T17:12:00.001-06:00

I don't review restaurants until I've had at least a couple dishes there. But my recent meal at the Copper Onion in Salt Lake was so tasty and interesting, I wanted to write something. Plus, it ain't the cheapest place around, so I may not be back too soon. So here goes, the inaugural One Bite Review, a short review of one plate.

The Copper Onion Burger is the best hamburger I've had in Utah, maybe my whole life. And I loves the burgers. They are probably the only food I actually get cravings for. Salt Lake Magazine's food critic can't stop talking about the Copper Onion Burger, so I went there with my boss one Friday afternoon. The place is trendy and a little stuck-up, like you'd expect from a place raved about in SL Mag.

We both ordered the Copper Onion Burger with arugula salad (thrice-cooked fries are available instead). The lettuce was tossed in parmesean and olive oil. The three ingredients together made a deep and bold unami taste. The $11 burger was very thick - perhaps one inch. The beef juice was soaked into the bottom bun, so I thought it was going to be a soggy experience. On the contrary, the homemade roll was thick and hard enough to capture the juice without bogging it down And, really, wouldn't you rather have a burger with all its juice intact?

The toppings include grilled red onions, white mayo, and shredded lettuce. The onions are tasty and sweeten the dish up. The toppings are perfect, but they're really just a supporting cast to the beef. I don't know how they did it, but it was the best ground beef I've ever tasted. Juicy and rich. Too bad the patty wasn't uniformly cooked, as there were a couple bites of rare in my medium burger. It's a shame they came at the end of my burger, otherwise it would have been utter plated perfection.

Vehemently recommended.

http://www.thecopperonion.com/

Event Report: Meet the Maker

2010-05-23T17:37:00.013-06:00

Log Haven is a pretty silly name for a restaurant. At best, it makes me think about bottled maple syrup. At worst, it reminds of the phrase "hog heaven."

Regardless of the dumb name, there it is: sitting three miles up Millcreek Canyon, it all its well-reviewed, four-star beauty. Salt Lake Magazine's food critic mentioned on her blog that Heaven's Log...er...Log Haven...was having a free tasting with samples from local "artisan food makers." These included Beehive Cheese Company, Uinta Brewery, Clifford Family Farm, Creminelli Fine Meats, and Kenyon Organics.

Not being a drinker, Uinta Brewery was out for me. Kenyon Organics gave out seeds, and Clifford Family Farm's deviled eggs were good, if hidden.

The real dynamite was the aged culinary perfection of Beehive Cheese Co. and Creminelli Fine Meats. First off, Creminelli is actually run by a real Italian family. So when they serve you salami, you better pay attention! They offered no less than 10 different varieties of salami for our endless sampling pleasure. All were delicious and the flavors were delicate - with the exception of the spicy Salami Piccante. Of particular note were the Salami Cacciatore, flavored with juniper berries, and the Salami Tartufo which was decked out with none other than Black Summer Truffles from Northern Italy! Top it off with some Wild Boar Salami and we're really talking artisan!

But the highlight of the evening was Beehive Cheese Company's artisan fromage. They busted out none other than the American Cheese Society competition winning Barely Buzzed. Not being a espresso consumer, I can't report on it. But it's neighbor, Sea Hive, may have been the best cheese I've ever tasted. This brand new flavor is infused with salt harvested from Lake Bonneville's ancient lakebed in the belly-button of Utah ("more than 50 trace mineral deposits," the website boasts), and honey from local orchard and wildflower-pollinating bees. My friend noted its smooth texture, while its honey touch grabbed my attention.

These world-class artisans are worthy of every cheese and salami lover's attention. They both ship directly from their websites (www.creminelli.com www.beehivecheese.com).

Multi-Genre Blogging is Hot

2010-05-13T11:09:00.000-06:00

Do you like theater? Sure, we all do! I'm now part of the Utah Theater Bloggers Association. Click this action to see my reviews: http://www.utahtheaterbloggers.com/author/bisaacson.

RIP Eat-a-Burger

2010-04-19T15:52:00.006-06:00

Once a local chain that covered Utah, Eat-a-Burger's final restaurant has closed. Here's what I found when I went there today:

The roof painted green, the neon logo on top gone, and a "Rancheritos Coming Soon" sign.
The Holladay location held out a full ten years after all of the other Eat-a-Burgers were turned into Starbucks and the like. I reviewed Eat-a-Burger for Chow Board just a few months ago, complete with all my fond childhood memories of the place. I did my best, old buddy. So it's with a heavy heart, that I write perhaps the only eulogy on the web for this bygone restaurant. So long and thanks for all the fries.

Peanut Butter in the Wine Rack: Food Memoir Part 2

2010-04-17T21:02:00.007-06:00

Click here to read Part I

When the move came, I was fine with it. At thirteen I had about the social and emotional sense of a mushroom. I walked down the hall of junior high bragging about moving to Argentina to friends I wouldn’t see for years. In June of 1998, we took a couple long plane rides to Buenos Aires where we touched down at six A.M. on a chilly winter’s morning. After enduring my first overnight flight of insomnia, I went to my room in our new house and entered a comatose state before my head hit the pillow.

My dad woke me five hours later with a warning about sleeping the day away. I arose zombie-like and we went to Burger King, which was just six blocks from our house. It was comfort food in the alien environment.

I was too young to grasp the reality that we were in South America permanently and none of us, besides Dad, had any idea how to live there. I passed my first summer-turned-winter break being sick, watching TV, doing some sightseeing and reading the only book that Mom brought on the plane, Etiquette for Dummies. I’ve never forgotten how to set a table since!

Our Christmas traditions were completely transformed during our Argentine years. Mom bought “‘Twas the Night Before Christmas” china and we each took turns reading the lines off our plates and bowls. Clam chowder, served in the new china our first year in B.A., became an annual Christmas Eve tradition. Thanks to the small American community, we were friends with the local General Authorities and mission presidents, who joined us for Christmas Eve. When they came, Mom asked us all to sign the bottom of our china plates to immortalize their company.

Later that first Christmas Eve, we were sitting around the piano singing “Silent Night” when a flurry of explosions shook the house and fireworks shone through the window. After the song we dashed to the deck to see what was the matter. From the top of our wall we watched the festive midnight pyrotechnics ring in the Nativity.

Christmas morning our stockings were filled with cans of A&W root beer, and under the tree lied brightly wrapped packages of Crisco and Miracle Whip, lifelines to save my parents from using animal lard and mayonnaise. After presents, our visiting family members spilled their suitcases full of more edible treasure on the dining room table, which became a bartering ground. Afterwards, Dad fired up the brick grill, or “parilla,” in our backyard and we hit the pool to beat the humid heat.

The root beer was the most welcome gift of all. Before the opening of each can, we would make sure we had the jealous attention of everyone in the house. Some cans would stay hidden in the refrigerator for months until anticipation overwhelmed the owner.

We were also hoarders of peanut butter. We drove to a distant Wal*Mart every few weeks to check if a shipment came in. This was, as far as we could tell, the only store in the city that sold peanut butter. We stocked up on twenty to thirty jars every time we went and stored them in our large, otherwise empty wine rack.

One American family in our branch said that once while going through customs, the official commented on how many Mormons he’d noticed hauling jars of peanut butter in their suitcases. With a straight face he asked them, “Is it some part of your religion?”

We didn’t just stick to our American food, though. We ventured out for Argentine regularly, but had to adjust to the Argentine schedule where restaurants don’t even open until nine P.M. On weekends some diners linger until five or six A.M. Waiters were uniformly heavyset and always memorized your orders as a mark of pride. When one waiter had served the rest of my family, he turned to me and said “None for you—you’re already too fat.” He was serious.

On the menu, milanesas were typical lunch fare. They are often translated as breaded veal cutlets, though the meat doesn’t come from stall-raised calves like in the U.S. The thin cutlets are often over one foot long and six inches wide and precariously positioned in a French roll half its size, leaving a fourth of the slab bulging out on all sides. Slather on some mayo, add a lettuce leaf and a couple tomato slices and you’ve got lunch.

Empanadas hold a special place in my heart. About 3mm of blockage in my right ventricle, actually. Empanadas, which are becoming more common in the U.S., are meat turnovers filled with ground beef, chicken, or ham and melted mozzarella cheese. The best empanadas came from Pizza Bonita, which means “Pretty Pizza.” I had a ritual of eating a mess of their most delicious, greasy chicken and ham and cheese empanadas and watching “The Mummy.”

Besides potatoes, pasta and bread, meat is basically all Argentines eat. Fruits and green vegetables are a once-a-month affair. They consume more beef per person than any other country in the world. Most cattle are range-fed in a natural environment and none of them are injected with hormones. As a result, the beef is as tasty as it is natural. Steaks are grilled only over wood fires and seasoned only with salt. No sauces are ever used to dress them and, after one bite, any blasphemous desire for A-1 was gone as the tender, succulent beef melted in our mouths.

Still widely discussed in the family is a particular meal in Uruguay. Just right across the Rio de la Plata from Argentina, Uruguay so culturally similar to Argentina that it is jokingly referred to as an Argentine province. The restaurant, Pulpería de los Faroles (roughly translated as “the place of tender beef among the street lamps”) is housed in a small, three-hundred-year-old brick building in the Colonia town square. Its rustic, bare brick walls hold a peculiar legend that, in 1680, a magician brewed the elixir of life there and still visits the kitchen at night to concoct his potions. The only magic we experienced was the steak, which possibly surpassed that of Argentina. The bacon wrappings made our tongues do the tango.

After we had been in Argentina for one year, the most innovative and popular restaurant in the city opened just down our street: Kansas Grill. An American entrepreneur built the grill close to the American school, where most of the Americans lived. The buzz spread like electricity throughout the community that a restaurant had opened with real American cooking.

Not only was that true, but the food surpassed our wildest fantasies with the best appetizers, salads, main dishes and desserts we had ever had. The Chicago Style Spinach Dip was creamy beyond compare. The nachos put other messes of chips and cheese to shame with succulent, homemade chili draped over the lightest chips imaginable. The Traditional Salad was a king among salads. It had a medley of vinaigrette dressing, warm crumbled bacon and hardboiled eggs. Its warm croutons were crunchy on the outside and soft in the middle. All these ingredients combined to form a holy alliance of flavor.

Kansas introduced ribs and barbeque sauce to the country, which sent Americans into a hysterical consumption. The marinated steaks were also not only revolutionary but downright scrumptious. Everyone I know who has tried it believes Kansas’s Hawaiian Steak is the best marinated steak they’ve ever had. In this steak, world-class Argentine beef met the flavors of American-style preparation. Sweet pineapple, soy and ginger permeated the beautiful cut whose tenderness left knives optional.

Kansas also lays claim to the best dessert experience of my life. Their carrot cake was warm and thick as a brick. Its cream cheese icing was thick and cold, covering the warm offering like a loving blanket.

When Friday came we would get in the car and drive to Kansas Grill without saying a word about our destination. The Kansas Grill has been the pinnacle of Isaacson food lore for ever since. My father recently said that without Kansas we might not have been able to make it through our five years in Buenos Aires. Argentine food was excellent, but Kansas Grill was home.

***

The oil in my deep, 10-inch fry pan sizzles and splatters as I hurriedly cover it before it does further damage. The cleaning of the range, walls and clothes are easily worth a nostalgic slice of milanesa. The folks at the Mercado Latino are getting to recognize me thanks to my frequent purchases of empanada dough. I’ve mastered the beef and ham and cheese kinds, but my chicken has never been up to snuff.

I’ve been cooking Argentine for about a year and a half now. After five years in Argentina as an angst-ridden teenager, all I wanted to do was leave, but now I want more than ever to return. I remind myself that all my friends, like me, have long since moved to America. But the familiar city and the food that was at the heart of it all . . . perhaps that would be worth the trip.

Trader Joe's Can Do No Wrong

2010-04-04T08:44:00.010-06:00

I don't know what possessed me to buy the hummus. I'd only had hummus once before in my life, but now I'm addicted to Trader Joe’s. How could I ever buy some nasty over-processed bacon & ranch & onion & sour cream dip again? Trader Joe's hummus has ingredients that I actually recognize. It’s so pure, so simple, so delicious. And at $1.99 a tub and a huge box of organic multi-grain crackers for $1.67, that makes for some seriously economical, healthy, and tasty snack time!

Trader Joe’s never ceases to amaze me. It strikes the elusive balance between price (the only thing megamarts are concerned with) and quality (the only thing gourmet marts care about). Trader Joe's is a culinary carnival of delight, a merry-go-round of endless surprises.

We picked up their potato salad yesterday. If there's one thing I hate, it's supermarket potato salad. It's always swimming in enough mayo to keep the Titanic afloat. Trader Joe's, on the other hand, is an actual DISH with a balance of ingredients where one doesn't overtake the other. And the freezer aisle is a wonderland. You’ll swear the frozen Apple Blossom pastries were freshly prepared when you take them out of the oven. The pastry is flaky and the apple slices inside crispy.

I hate Oreos. Not only do they have an ingredients list long enough to make you cross-eyed, but I just think they taste nasty. Well, into the kitchen walks Grandma Joe, with a box full of Joe-Joes. They’re not Oreo knock-offs, they’re the way Oreos should be. The natural ingredients make for a much more satisfying and guiltless experience. And the vanilla bean bits in the frosting are like a wink from Grandma Joe telling you she cares.

There are a few items that I've purchased at TJ's that didn't quite tickle my fancy. It may just be that I grew up in Argentina so I have certain expectations with my empanadas, but I found the Chicken Empanaditas a bit sandy. And the sparkling blueberry and raspberry drinks are far too bitter for my palate. But the joys far outweigh the disappointments.

Trader Joe's has a 19th century explorers theme that seems gimmicky at first, but every trip really feels like a safari. There are always new products to discover. There are no sales, no phony memberships, just good prices for great products in a fun, friendly environment.
-------------------------------
TJ’s has stores all across the country, and is especially concentrated in California. Unfortunately, some states like my native Utah are still Joeless. But you can demand one on their website.

Peanut Butter in the Wine Rack: Food Memoir Part I

2010-03-17T11:27:00.010-06:00

My parents gathered us in the living room and told us that we were moving to Argentina. My older sisters cried, no doubt for the drastic changes this would cause in their lives. Me? I didn’t really think much of it—I just wanted to know if Argentina had TV and food.

My parents assured me that it had both.

For the next five years, my family tried to hold onto our American roots while the Argentine culture tugged us gently, and sometimes forcefully, from our comfortable soil. Our culinary roots fed off good ol’ fashioned large breakfasts, fast food, Miracle Whip and other staples of the American diet. The menu during my early years in Centerville, Utah was fairly predictable. On Sundays we ate usually had pork chops or roast with mashed potatoes, and on other days of the week we could bet on spaghetti with a big pot of Ragú Meat Sauce.

Despite the predictable culinary palette, my violent allergic reaction to milk products kept things interesting. If I touched the stuff, painful rashes would inflame my skin and I would swell up like an inflating basketball. The remedy was drinking Benadryl, a dreadful experience given my enduring gag reflex to liquid medicine.

That’s why we ordered pizza with one half without cheese. The ordering process usually involved the clarification “No, not half the cheese. Just cheese on one half.” When the pizzas showed up ignorantly covered with a full circumference of mozzarella, we picked it off. After scraping my slices, there wasn’t much left but sauce, which is probably why it’s still my favorite part.

When I first had macaroni and cheese instead of macaroni and margarine I was about fifteen. At school, bagged lunches satiated me since school lunch was infested with demonic creamy products like butter and, shudder, whey. Mom gave my teachers Starbursts to dole out to me when someone brought cupcakes or something else for the class.

To my everlasting appreciation, Baskin Robbins’ daiquiri ice flavor and the Starkiss popsicles at Dairy Queen saved me from further dessert embarrassment. When it came to Arctic Circle, however, I was out of luck. No ice-based confections there. Trying to include me, Dad finished one drive-through order with the statement “and one cone.” “Did you want ice-cream in that?” asked the crackly voice. “No,” Dad replied, “just the cone.”

When people hear about my allergy they look at me like they would rather be strapped to a raft, have a sweaty gym sock stuffed in their mouth and set off to sea than endure it themselves. Actually, I don’t remember feeling socially excluded or even wanting to eat milk products. I couldn’t miss tasting what I never had. But even after a decade of being allergy-free, I still can’t bring myself to drink plain milk or have it in cereal. The sight of it still makes my stomach turn and brings back memories of choking down Benedryl.

It seemed that Mom and I went to Arctic Circle for lunch every day, though she assures me that this was not the case and she made plenty of lunches. Nevertheless, our visits were so frequent it may not be coincidence that it closed just a few months after we moved. Arctic Circle had horse saddle chairs for kids where I sat as I consumed tens of thousands of calories in fries alone. The Galaxy Diner was another burger joint that shuttered soon after we left, and I still reminisce about it like an old friend. A friend with crispy battered fries and fluorescent green lime Sprites.

Eat-a-Burger knew how to cater to the younger crowd, too. Their kids’ meals came in small cardboard classic cars! I would take them home afterward and drive them around our house. When my family hosted girls from the Hong Kong Children’s Choir, we stopped in Eat-a-Burger to give them a taste of American cuisine. We ordered a monstrous amount of fries that came in what seemed to be a twenty-gallon bucket. Wanting to complete their American experience, we urged the Chinese teens to order root beer. To our surprise their faces became fraught with worry. They haven’t heard of root beer? Realizing they probably mistook it for actual beer, we took turns explaining that it’s not alcoholic, but the young Asians wouldn’t consent. “It’s like sarsaparilla,” Mom finally said. “Ah!” they exclaimed, “Sarsaparilla!” Their faces lit up and we ordered root beers for all.

One of our family’s longest standing food traditions going to the Chuck-a-Rama Buffet on Grandma Humphrey’s birthdays (she always said she didn’t want to live to one hundred, and her wish was granted with just three months to spare). While everyone was gorging themselves at their tables, my cousin Jeff and I would sneak off to the steaming, golden pile of scones. With no witnesses we poked a hole in each of them and filled the hollow morsels completely with honey before consuming them. Squeeze after squeeze we launched our taste buds into heaven and our teeth into the dentist’s chair.

But all was not fast food gluttony. As my parents would passionately interject, to this day they cultivate organic gardens and fruit trees. Perhaps my most transcendent childhood food experience was on a late summer’s morning long forgotten by everyone else. I awoke, earlier than my family, and went out to our twin peach trees. I plucked a plump offering and returned with my bounty to the kitchen. I poured Corn Flakes in a bowl and sliced the succulent orange-colored fruit into it. The abundance of juice from the just-picked peach was more than enough to cover the cereal—milk be danged! The crispy flakes and decadent peach chunks danced merrily across my tongue and etched the experience in my memory.

Click here to continue to Part II

The Best Food I Ate in NYC: Pinche Taqueria

2010-01-25T09:23:00.012-07:00

After being in New York City for two months, I was disappointed with the food. Admittedly I was on an unpaid intern's budget, so I never paid more than than $15 for a plate and could count the total number of restaurants I had patronized on one hand.

If there's one thing that surprised me on this extended visit, it's how often New Yorkers eat out. Every night of the week every restaurant was packed to capacity. Factor in the bagel carts for breakfast and a take out lunch, and I would wager that a significant proportion of New Yorkers eat out three times a day. Meanwhile, I was trying to keep my meals out on the town down to once a week! After all, I had a Trader Joe's to satiate my culinary curiosities on the cheap.

On my very last night in the city, some friends and I went to Washington Square Park and played in the fountain while an awesome bluegrass band played nearby. Coming out of Utah where I actually played in a bluegrass band, it was a surreal experience to hear one in the big city.

Then we headed to this tiny Mexican joint called in NoHo called Pinche Taqueria. The place oozes authenticity, which it should since it was founded in Tijuana in 1973, and then completely transported, kitchen and all, to NYC.

Photo credit: Melissa Hom, nymag.com

Now I haven't been to Mexico, but I'm pretty sure I've had the real deal in L.A., and this, my friend, is the real deal. Nothing's canned, frozen or microwaved. It's all fresh and organic. The meat is grilled over a mesquite charcoal grill. The tacos pop in your mouth and leave you wanting more. According to "New York Magazine," abuelitas (little old Mexican grandmas) make the tortillas and butcher the meat with a machete on an avocado tree trunk. And at $2.95 each, really, how can you go wrong?

Photo credit: www.pinchetaqueria.us

The moral of this story, if you want some real deal Mexican in NYC or are just looking for some top notch food for very little dinero, hit up Pinche.

===
Summary: The real deal!
NoHo: 333 Lafayette St (between Bleecker St & Houston St)
Nolita: 227 Mott St
Website: http://www.yelp.com/biz_redir?url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinchetaqueria.us&src_bizid=JXc8_bo85g-jcaw8rhbiSA&cachebuster=1264439571

Pizza So Good, You'll Drop Your R's Too

2009-11-04T10:46:00.015-07:00

Nicolitalia Pizzeria in Provo, Utah is steeped in Boston pride. Founded by a Boston native and dedicated to Boston-style pizza, even the menu is spelled out in Bostonian with words like “peppahs” and “lahge.”

Nic's Boston-style pizza is smaller than a New York-style pie, with a crispier crust, a little more sauce, and far superior toppings than anything I've had in NYC. When it comes to the Italian discus, Nicolitalita does not disappoint. Fourteen kinds of eye-and-mouth-dazzling pies fill the menu, each one heartier and more original than the next. The Mahgarita is the undisputed staff and customer favorite, and hearkens back to its Italian roots with fresh plum tomatoes, fresh garlic, romano cheese and basil. And the Strada di Roma has grilled chicken, artichoke hearts and spinach on mozzarella and creamy alfredo sauce.

If you’d rather “build yah own,” as the menu says, there are two crusts (thin and deep dish), three sizes (8” 12” 16”), and endless toppings to choose from, like feta cheese, teriyaki chicken, pastrami, salami, fried eggplant and buffalo chicken just to name a few. My favorite combination so far is pastrami and eggplant. Each ingredient is fresh and piled high, and the marinara sauce is hearty, not too sweet, and doesn’t get in the way of the flavor smorgasbord of the toppings.

In addition to pizza, Nicolitalia serves zacos for lunch. Imagine if a calzone and a salad had a baby. Zacos are flatbread filled with chicken, steak or meatballs, which are folded over, baked, then filled with lettuce, onions, and thick slices of tomatoes, then served with a cup of creamy Italian dressing. The smell is transcendent, and the flatbread is warm and savory, although it does have a tendency to break and spill the contents.

Cannolis are Nicolitalia’s featured dessert, but the ricotta cream inside is not sweet or creamy enough to complement the chocolate-dipped shell.

As long as you come for the pizza, you won't be disappointed. Nic's is definitely the best in Utah. It's less greasy than The Pie and there's a much better selection of ingredients. And while the quality if comparable to Pizza 712, Nic's kicks its butt in menu variety and doesn't suffer from cheeky hipness.

Conclusion: There is truth to the staff’s t-shirts: “Pizza so good you’ll drop your R’s too.”

+++++
2295 N. University Pkwy, Provo. Mon-Thu 11am-10pm, Fri-Sat 11am-11pm. Closed Sunday. (801) 356-7900. Limited free delivery in Provo and Orem. http://www.nicolitaliapizzeria.com/

Bible Food

2009-10-12T20:50:00.005-06:00

I learned quite a bit writing this paper. Who knew there is an entire scholarly book about the diet of John the Baptist? And how about a company who sells Bible Bars? Come with me, fair reader, as I share some very interesting discoveries in Cooking Religiously: Biblical Food in Antiquity and Today [.doc].

Eat-a-Burger or Two

2009-09-30T09:46:00.010-06:00

The late 90s marked the fall of Utah’s retro diners. Within two years, statewide chains Eat-a-Burger and Galaxy Diner switched off their grills and unplugged their jukeboxes. Only national chains like Winger’s and Red Robin survived, growing since thanks to the booming population and less competitive 50s diner market.

Nostalgic for my childhood haunt, I went to Hollday to the last remaining Eat-a-Burger, which still serves it up like the glory days. With its 50s tin can style, Eat-a-Burger would look like any old diner if it weren’t for the massive turquoise and hot pink custom sign jutting from the roof. The drive-through ushers through an endless flotilla of hungry burger buyers and inside thrives an endless army of diners and their kids. Walking in I felt like I had wandered into an elementary school field trip.

The attraction of kids to Eat-a-Burger shouldn’t be a surprise to me who, back in the day, was floored that the contents of my meals were served cardboard classic cars. Mr. Burger drove and Ms. Fries rode shotgun! Ecstatic, I even took my retro car containers home to play with later. While the cardboard cars were discontinued years ago, the $1.69 price of a kids meal might still floor parents.

The flagship sandwich, the Eat-a-Burger, comes wrapped in butcher paper and towers at about six inches tall. Run through the garden, the lettuce and onions are piled high. Pickles and the local specialty fry sauce also dress up the nothin’ special beef patty.

At the sight of the menu board’s boast “UT’s best fries” I was skeptical. But they came so freshly cut that I could taste the starch. The skins are left on and they come with a cup of fry sauce as thick as concrete. If you bring some friends and order a “bucket” size for only $2.49, you can stuff yourselves silly and still laugh all the way to the bank next door. Suffice it to say, the sign don’t lie.

Besides the usual battery of chicken fingers and bacon cheeseburgers, Eat-a-Burger offers pastrami, mushroom, and seasonal burgers like the teriyaki bacon and swiss, the bacon ranch and cheddar cheese, and a raspberry halibut sandwich. Chicken sandwiches include the “Phoenix” with jalepenos, salsa and swiss, the “Avocado & Bacon Chicken,” and the “Teriyaki” that’s topped with cucumbers and sprouts. A fair variety of malts and shakes completes a meal, like Oreo, Butterfinger, raspberry and peanut butter.

The real dessert, though, comes when your cashier brings out your meal to you on a tray complete with complimentary Andes mints.

Summary: the fries make it

Rating: classic

Details: 4735 Highland Dr, Holladay, Utah. (801) 272-5249.

Note: Eat-a-Burger closed April 2010. Read the follow-up article here.

Elk Steak Pizza with Garlic Butter Sauce

2009-09-12T21:54:00.015-06:00

When my brother-in-law took down his first elk, I had all I could eat meat for a year. Wanting to make a something like a Philly cheesesteak, I made this very easy and satisfying pizza. It's like Philadelphia meets Idaho. This recipe won a $250 prize for Best Entree on Brickfish.com.

DOUGH INGREDIENTS
.25 oz active dry yeast
1 ½ tsp sugar
4 ¼ cups flour
1 ½ tsp salt

Put 1 ½ cups warm water in a bowl and add yeast and sugar. Stir and let foam for 10 minutes. In a separate bowl, add 3 cups flour and salt. Add yeast mixture and stir with wooden spoon. Transfer to floury surface and kneed for 8 minutes. The dough should be smooth and stringy. Lightly grease a clean bowl and place dough in it. Let rise until doubled (1 ½ - 2 hrs). Cut into thirds and freeze two of the three for a later day.

TOPPINGS INGREDIENTS
4 oz. mozzarella cheese
8 oz. elk or beef steak
½ green pepper
½ yellow onion
1 clove garlic
2 tbsp butter
McCormick’s Montreal Steak Seasoning

Begin cooking the steak on medium heat in a frying pan. Cut the onion and peppers into 1” strips. When the steak is about halfway browned (but still somewhat red), sprinkle on McCormick’s Montreal Steak Seasoning, and add pepper and onions. When the steak is done, cut it into ½” x 1” strips, roughly mirroring the size of the peppers.

Chop the garlic clove and place in a sauce pan with butter. Sautee over medium heat for 1-2 minutes.

Spread out one third of the prepared dough into a 14” diameter on a lightly greased cooking or pizza sheet. Brush the garlic butter on the dough and sprinkle basil and oregano on top. Sprinkle on mozzarella cheese and steak, peppers and onion. Cook at 350° for about 15 min.

The Best Doughnuts I've Ever Had

2009-09-08T10:07:00.011-06:00

It's midnight in Hagerstown, Maryland. I drive my car through the lightless alleys trying to remember where it is. Finally, I find it. Standing in an unmarked alley shines a doughnut shop, a beacon of light and decadence.

Krumpe’s Donuts began in 1934 with a real guy named Krumpe—Rudolf Max Albert Lewis Krumpe to be exact. The former German merchant marine opened his first doughnut shop in Harrisburg, PA. But with food rationing and the boycotts of German establishments during World War II, Krumpe's outlets were forced to close and Max enlisted in the Coast Guard.

In 1950 the Krumpes bought a home on Maryland Ave. in Hagerstown. They set up shop again in the garage behind their house, where they’ve sold doughnuts nightly ever since. Although Max passed away in 2000, his two sons and one grandson continue the Krumpe’s tradition.

Krumpe's has the best doughnuts I have ever had—not a declaration I take lightly. I've always thought that the lighter-than-air glazed of Bountiful, Utah joints like Dick's Market, Parson's Bakery, and Carmack's (RIP) were second to none. Maybe it's because I was raised on Utah fare, but the offerings of East Coast chains like Dunkin Donuts and Krispe Kreme have always seemed like heavy and over-labored.

While a Krumpe's glazed is heavier than Utah's best, eating one is unlike any other experience I have ever had. After the initial bite hits my tongue with delicious sweetness, a second wave of delight hits the back of my tongue every time I chew. I can't explain the physics, but Krumpe's tastes better and better as you eat them.

There are other flavors that the locals love, but I’m a one flavor kind of guy—glazed is synonymous with doughnuts. And Krumpe’s octagonal delights are the only doughnut I want to eat for the rest of my life. Driving away I was literally banging my hands on the steering wheel, unable to believe what I was tasting.

Did I mention that they're dirt cheap? About $2.50 for a half dozen. Good thing, too, because I can’t eat less than three at a time.

Summary: If you find yourself in MD, PA, or VA, make the trip to Krumpe's.

Rating: The best. Really.

Details: Krumpe's is open from 7 P.M. to 2 A.M. and, yes, it really is in a dark alley.

Website: http://krumpesdonuts.com/

Sugar Sweet Sunshine

2009-08-04T07:32:00.018-06:00

Logo: Sugar Sweet Sunshine

Not since "Snakes on a Train" has a product's name captured its essence so accurately as Sugar Sweet Sunshine, a gourmet NYC cupcakery. The cupcakes of Sugar Sweet Sunshine (can just call it SSS? S3? S cubed?) look like you'd expect from a chic bakery: tasty looking morsels with cute, colorful sprinkles. Thankfully, the cakes are full-sized - not minis. That might be more cute than a man could handle.

Eating a Sugar Sweet Sunshine cupcake is like getting hit in the mouth with a bag of sugar, a pound of butter, and a bottle of vegetable oil all at the same time. The frosting is sweet. Saccharine sweet. S3 scientists must have discovered how to compound sugar into a new element on the periodic table. I admit, I'm not much of a frosting fan, and S3's is more bakery decadence than I can handle.

The cakes themselves are excellent. All of them are light and spongy. The vanilla is particularly light, though the frosting literally weighs the dome of the cake down in the middle. The chocolate would certainly ring the bell of any dark chocolate fan with its bitter edge. The standout for me, though, is the pumpkin with its winning, toothsome flavor.

Summary: heavy hyperbolic sugar blasted frosting gets in way of perfectly good cupcakes
Rating: fair

Details: Sugar Sweet Sunshine is located in the Lower East Side of Manhattan at 126 Rivington St. Cupcakes run $1.50. Their website is at http://www.sugarsweetsunshine.com/.

Nina's Argentinean Pizzeria

2009-07-30T10:41:00.028-06:00

While interning in New York City my culinary goal is to find authentic Argentine food that reminds me of growing up in Buenos Aires. I'm looking for the real deal, not some allegedly Argentine Soho fusion. So after reviewing their menus online, I'm hitting up Argentine restaurants with the most authentic looking ones first.

Photo: Nina's

First on my list is Nina's Argentinean Pizzeria at 1750 2nd Ave. One look at Nina's website and I knew it was a must with its comparatively small prices and very authentic menu. Pizza and pasta are as much part of the culture in Buenos Aires as in the United States as most Argentines are second or third generation Italian.

I had high hopes for the Provoleta appetizer. In Argentina they grill one inch thick slabs of provolone cheese with herbs that are to die for. Unfortunately, I was disappointed as Nina's was by far the thinnest I had ever seen. The flavor was good, but it's centimeter depth left little room for the cheesy explosion I am used to and I regretted throwing down $6.50 for it. And while there was nothing intrinsically wrong with the pre-meal bread and its eggplant olive oil dip, I'd never seen anything like in Argentina.

The Wild Mushroom Ravioli was neither dressed with nor stuffed with any mushrooms that I could see. In fact, my ravioli seemed to be meat instead. Luckily I'm an omnivore. It was nice to be able to order "salsa rosa" (Pink Sauce), and I found it adequate. The Linguine con Pesto was also good, but not outstanding. Most of Nina's pasta dishes run $11-14.

There's a lot more Nina's I'd like to taste. I'm particularly interested in how the milanesas are - they have quite the impressive selection. The pizzas also look good, through only a few hearken back to Argentina (namely the Chanfle, Portena and Fugazzetta). But that's probably for the best. Toppings like heart of palm, seeded green olives and "salsa golf" (think 1,000 island dressing) are best left back in Buenos Aires.

Authenticity: moderate
Rating: not a bad place for some pasta
Would I go back? maybe if I'm in the area

New York Times Gets Mouthful of Crown Burger

2009-07-29T09:49:00.008-06:00

Pleasantly surprised today to see a two-page article in the New York Times about Crown Burger, a Utah institution. Their pastrami laden burger is rich, succulent goodness. Any burger fan passing though Salt Lake deserves to stuff their mouth with a Crown Burger. Read and drool, my friends.

Photo: NY Times

Food in Advertising Research Paper

2009-07-25T13:34:00.010-06:00

Are you lying to me, Carl?

We all know that food in ads is quite different than what ends up on our plates. So is this embellishment ethical or even legal? This paper, "The Law and Practice of Advertising Food," explores these questions. Make sure to check out the side by side comparisons at the end.

Click here to read the paper.

Calzone Euphoria

2009-07-16T16:18:00.009-06:00

This original recipe is cheap, easy and extremely delicious.

Ingredients:

pizza dough (Trader Joe's has awesome dough for $.99, or Rachel Ray's recipe is really easy)
2 oz pepperoni
3/4 cup shredded mozzarella cheese
1/4 sliced red pepper sliced
2 sliced mushrooms
1 Boboli pizza sauce packet (or another sauce of your choosing)

Directions:

Preheat oven to 350. Sautee the sliced red pepper and mushrooms until caramelized. Air toss dough and spread it on a lightly greased cookie sheet. Make sure there are no holes in your dough.

Spread most of the sauce on one side of the dough. Save a little for dipping afterward. Spread pepperonis, cheese and veggies on the sauce. Fold the unsauced side on top of the toppings and press with fingers. Use a fork to seal the calzone tightly.

Cook about 15 minutes or until the crust is crispy. Let stand 3 minutes before eating. Cut in half and enjoy!

Pop Tarts Orange Cream Flavor

2009-07-13T19:55:00.015-06:00

Under no circumstances would I ever consider paying money for Pop Tarts Orange Cream pastries. While strawberry Pop Tarts are one of my guilty pleasures, the idea of a Dreamsicle flavored Pop Tart just turns my stomach. But it was in the break room at work so I had to for novelty's sake.

The eating experience, actually, isn't that bad. The "crust," I guess you call it, is flaky and delicious, perhaps even more than I'm used to with Pop Tarts. The frosting isn't anything to quibble about either. And the orange cream filling inside tastes remarkably faithful to a real creamsicle. Now, this didn't mean that I enjoyed it, but if the idea of this product sounds even remotely appetizing, go for it! This summer novelty will be gone by Fall.

Summary: Faithful to the creamsicle flavor. If it sounds good to you, you'll probably love it.
Rating: Well done

Smucker's Sugar Free Syrup

2009-07-12T14:38:00.006-06:00

I was seduced by this golden temptress' nutritional facts:

Calories: 20
Total Fat: 0g
Sodium: 85mg
Carbs: 8g
Sugars: 0g
Protein: 0g

As I compared Smucker's syrup its neighbor in the breakfast aisle (which was loaded with 52g of sugar), I decided to make the healthy choice and give Smucker's a shot for $3.99.

The eating (on blueberry Eggo's) started off promisingly. The taste is like the distant cousin of Aunt Jemima. A distant, dull, metallic cousin. Okay, it wasn't that bad, but it led me to wonder what exactly I was eating. The answer on the back of the bottle was aspatame.

As the meal progressed, the consistency of the syrup began to...shall we say take shape? Unlike most syrups which spread across the food and plate, Smucker's Sugar Free is gelatinous. It has a nasty blob-like consistency which turned my stomach.

My bottle's next adventure will be a trip down the garbage chute.

Summary: The flavor is a passable substitute for your run of the mill sugar syrup, but the consistency is stomach turning.

Rating: Fairly nasty

Under the Trees, Carrabba's Satisfies

2009-07-10T14:47:00.010-06:00

If your palate can't descend to sample Italian unless the cheese was wheeled down the cobbled streets of Sicily in a creaky wheelbarrow, then Carrabba’s is not for you. If you are not gastronomically opposed to Italian via America, however, then give the comfortable setting of Carrabba’s Italian Grill a visit.

Once you internalize that you’re sitting in a building that looks like the terraced gardens on the South hill of BYU, you’ll notice how dim the terracotta kitchen-inspired interior is. The dark wood and sparse lighting give an air of romance and mystery, though the seeing-impaired might be wary. The seating seems always ample, despite the nightly clientele.

A friend of mine swears by the bruschette appetizer, which is generously topped with so many goodies that it’s almost a pizza. I’d say just wait for the free bread. This sourdough beauty comes steaming out of the oven onto your table with Spanish olive oil and herbs. A long wine and non-alcoholic specialty drinks list populates the menu, though the raspberry Italian soda is a bit of a milky mess.

The dinner salads are uninspired and seem to exist only to check off the box on casual dining’s imaginary “must have” list; though the large pepperoncini in the Caesar is a welcome addition.

Thankfully, your timely, dapper, twenty-something server will soon whisk away your salad woes. The warehouse-sized portion of lasagna has a pleasant and mildly surprising flavor that leaves one straining for the secret ingredient. Chicken Marsala is the unofficial diner’s favorite. Mushrooms and prosciutto top the entrée and a satisfying Lombardo Wine reduction dresses it well. Go for the mashed potatoes with the Marsala, though there are more adventurous side dishes. The cavatappi amatriciana is like curly spaghetti, yet was missing the prosciutto the waiter promised comes tossed in it.

Despite the Americanization of its food, Carrabba’s does offer authentic touches like pasta (imported from the Pompeii region) and Fontane cheese from France. The sauces, dressings, soups and crusts for the numerous styles of pizza are made on site daily.

If you didn’t bankrupt your appetite devouring the lasagna, invest in the cannolis for dessert. The pastry is dipped in chocolate and its pistachio crumbs and powdered sugar accessories give this ricotta cheese delight an unmatched edge. And if you mention somebody's having a birthday, you'll get one for free - no embarrassing singing involved.

Rating: Super good

Recommended: Lasagna, cannolis

Details: Carrabba’s is a national chain originating in Texas and offers call-ahead seating and large party carry-out. It is open seven days a week, handicap accessible and has a gluten-free menu. Most dishes range from $12-$20.

About the rating system

2009-07-10T13:23:00.001-06:00

Let's face it, society's addicted to objective reviews. Everything is rated with stars, thumbs, points, or some other degree system. The Chow Board rates things with words. Adjectives, mostly. It's simple and we hope you like it. Now let's get eating!