As a burger lover and a pizza lover, I've always liked the idea of some sort of burger-pizza hybrid, but it never really works according to plan. As our Home Slice Adam can tell you, designing a good hamburger pizza is no easy feat (I've yet to see a successful one anywhere, and pizza burgers rarely fare well either. This one, which is not quite a pizza burger, does a little better, I think.
Our Ziplist recipe box giveaway continues, this week with grilled ratatouille!
We all know how seductive a plate of poutine can be, right? You know, that Canadian late-night dish of fresh fries smothered with squeaky cheese curds and hot, meaty gravy? After a few beers it beckons to you, seduces you. A cheese-clad goddess enrobed in gravy, ready to nip your hangover in the bud. Heck, even without the beer goggles poutine is a pretty tough mistress to turn away. So what happens when your poutine employs her crafty wiles on an unsuspecting burger? The Poutine Burger emerges.
Putting together a great salad is not quite as simple as starting with quality fresh greens and vegetables and dressing them, but it is a very good start. The rest lies in making sure that you offer enough textural and flavor contrast that the salad doesn't get pushed to the side of the table as an accompaniment—something boring to keep you occupied between bites of the main course. In that sense, when I plan a salad, I try and make sure that it's its own side dish, if you get what I mean.
When I get fried eggs, I want them to taste fried. Frazzled, brown, crisp-edged, the yolk still runny; is there any delight greater than dipping the edge of a crisply browned egg white into an oozy golden yolk? In my opinion, there are two cultures that cook eggs better than any other in the world: the Spanish and the Thai. Both rely on the same method, and it's simple: break an egg into a good amount of very hot fat. That's it. (Almost.)
As condiments go, sriracha is one of the great American success stories. Until David Tran, the 68-year-old Vietnamese immigrant who founded Huy Fong Foods, started marketing his familiar green-capped, rooster-emblazoned version of the Thai hot sauce (named after the coastal city of Si Racha), it was virtually unknown in the United States. Now, you'd be hard pressed to find a supermarket that doesn't stock it or a hipster restaurant that doesn't employ it in one dish or another. But there are many more brands on the market. How would our panel of tasters feel? Would we go for a thicker, spicier, bolder American version, or would our palates lead us to a thinner, sweeter, more vinegary Thai sauce? We gathered together nine different brands and a panel of 16 tasters to find out.
I've got to admit it: I did not like Uncle Boons the first time I went. At least, I thought I didn't. The staff was friendly as could be, the space was fun, I even made friends with some folks at the bar, but the food just seemed... off to me.
Things started fine with a Lon Jai ($10), a Thai version of a michelada that looks like a glass of sriracha with a peppered rim. The cold Singha beer bubbles up through the hot sauce and then—what's that?—coriander wafts up to your nose along with something more mysterious and musky. "It's salted pickled lime juice," the bartender tells me, as he puts a plate of their chopped lamb salad in front of me. Laab Neuh Gae ($14) comes on strong out of the gate, with an unmistakable lamb-y aroma and richness that makes you wonder, is lamb really the best choice for laab? It tasted heavy, fatty, not refreshing, until... wait a minute... Okay, suddenly I got it. Those slices of cucumber and pickled onion aren't just garnishes—their bracing sourness allows you to focus on the flavor of the lamb, not the fat. The dish, surprisingly, worked.
I'm not generally a negative person, and my normal reaction to seeing misinformation spread through the internet is to simply try and dilute it by spreading some verity and beauty—I've produced more than my share of articles about how to grill steaks (baked up and backed up by real science and research, no less!) in the name of truth and pageviews, and if you want to take a look at those, you can scroll on down to the bottom of this article for some links. But today, I'm fighting back for once. We're going to put to rest seven of the most stubborn myths about grilling steaks, and hopefully come out the other end as better—or at the very least, slightly less frustrated—people.
Clam pizza is the kind of pizza that you need to start eating immediately after it's cut into slices, before the copious clam juices have a chance to render the crust completely soggy (though some degree of sogginess is inevitable—a feature for some, even). Even so, roasting a clam in the open heat of an oven is not the ideal way to do it, even if its been freshly shucked. Want to know the secret to the absolute tenderest, most flavorful clams and juiciest clam pizza around? Place the whole, unshucked clams on that pie before baking. It may look strange at first, and it will definitely look strange when it comes out of the oven, but the clams will be insanely tender and you won't lose a single drop of those precious juices.
There are countless good ways to cook a steak. So long as you start with good, high quality meat, season it properly, don't overcook it, and get a good sear on it, you can't really go wrong. But if your goal is the ultimate in tenderness and juiciness, a steak with a crisp, crackling, dark brown crust that cuts open to reveal flesh that's perfectly pink from edge to edge, then you're going to want to cook your steak sous-vide. Sound expensive? Think again. Watch the video or read the transcript to see how you can cook the best, most consistently foolproof steaks of your life, all in a $30 beer cooler.
I know the French like picnics, and if The Sound Of Music taught me anything, Austrians like picnics so long as there is music and matching outfits. But do Italians like picnics? They must, right? Here's what I'd take with me if I were planning an Italian-themed picnic (which, as it turns out, I guess I am!).
The Food Lab Turbo: Easy Grilled Cornish Hens and Zucchini with Lemon-Oregano Marinade, Tzatziki, and Greek Salad
Last year I went into some pretty extensive detail about how to grill chickens for optimum crisp skin, grilled flavor, and tender, juicy, evenly cooked meat. The key? Butterflying (aka spatchcocking). It's a simple technique that lets you to cook your chicken flat, allowing rendering fat to drip out and providing the best path toward crispy skin. Want to make things even easier? Do what I do during the summer: grill Cornish hens instead of chickens. They're small enough to make an individual serving, not to mention extremely tender and juicy, with a very mild, delicate flavor.
This is one of those fantastic ideas that was born not out of a concerted effort to have fantastic ideas, but through sheer dumb luck and lack of planning. If necessity is the mother of inventions, then poorly-stocked pantries are the uncle of new recipes. Or something like that.
"With spring on the horizon, I've started thinking about grilling. But as an apartment dweller with no grill, the grill pan is the only viable option. Have you conducted any tests on grill pans? Other than the obvious aesthetic benefit from the grill marks, I'd love to know how a piece of meat cooked on a grill pan might compare in flavor to one pan-seared and one cooked on a proper grill. Basically: do grill pans provide any actual flavor, or are they just for looks?"
The scallion pancakes at Hanjan are one of the most delicious things I've ever put in my mouth, and I could think of no way upon which it could be improved.
Until ramp season, that is.
Maison Harlem is one of my new favorite local hangouts, with great service and some solid lunch sandwiches.
By now, you're all familiar with the new recipe box feature on Serious Eats that allows you to save your favorite tested, tasted, and Serious Eats-approved recipes in your personal, searchable, sortable box powered by Ziplist. Add this recipe to your box to enter a chance to win free groceries for a month!
To the young me, a Greek salad was one thing: chopped iceberg lettuce topped with wan slices of pale pink tomato; watery cucumber; red onion that may have seen better, less stinky days; a few token canned black olives; and a ladleful or two of "Greek" dressing, which as far as I could tell was a cross between ranch and Caesar, with some crumbled feta cheese crumbled into it. I'm a much bigger fan of real deal Greek salads—the kind that are made of cucumber and really good tomato and feta and herbs and real lemon and awesome olive oil and stuff. Doesn't that sound much better than gloppily-dressed iceberg? (Who am I kidding? I also love gloppily dressed iceberg...)
A few weeks back I woke up at the ass of dawn to head out to Port Washington, Long Island with my sister, a friend from school, and my buddy Harold Dieterle. We'd been talking about heading out for stipers—as striped bass are called—for years, but it's not always easy for a working chef and a writer-on-too-many-deadlines to find mutual time off to do it. We jumped at the chance when it arose. We were on the water by 5:30, and cooking up a storm by mid-afternoon. Come take a look at the photos.
Maison Harlem is fast becoming my favorite neighborhood hang. The food—mostly classic Paris-style bistro fare—is nothing innovative, but solid enough to earn my money. The space is warm, a friendly neighborhood bar with worn-in tables and bar seats—the kind of space you'd expect in, say, the West Village, minus the oppressive crowds and loud music. And they've got a killer burger to boot.
Bánh mì with its crisp, moist vegetable filling and delicate-crusted bread can't sit for too long before it starts to lose quality. But the folks behind the sandwich counter at the Tien Hung Oriental Foods market in Orlando's ViMi district (one of the finest Vietnamese food scenes in the country) seem to know this and have come up with an ingenious workaround: rather than selling the 100% assembled sandwiches, they'll give 'em to you as DIY kit.
Lobster Week has been a lot of fun for us, not least because we got to eat so much lobster in the process. We've put together all of our eating and buying guides, along with a collection of recipes, in one easy-to-navigate post. Read on for everything you've ever wanted to know about lobster.
By now, you're all familiar with the new recipe box feature on Serious Eats that allows you to save your favorite tested, tasted, and Serious Eats-approved recipes in your personal, searchable, sortable box powered by Ziplist. Well this month, you have an extra incentive to start saving your recipes: Ziplist is giving away a month's worth of groceries—that's $600 to spend on whatever groceries you'd like.
So, I've got a couple of friends staying with me for a few days in New York. One has been here before. The other is an English boy living in Los Angeles who is here for the very first time, which, to me, means one thing: we need to get this guy some pizza, stat. So much pizza, so little time. Where do I start, and where would you take them?
Here's one late night sandwich that isn't a greasebomb. Good for lunch as well.
A few months ago, my wife and I spent all of 24 hours in Naples on our way home from Sicily. It was probably the second-most pizza-packed 24 hours of my life (the first being when I took my Colombian brother-in-law on a whirlwind pizza tour of New York). We hit over a half dozen pizzerias over lunch alone, and a few more for dinner. Here now, I present to you the Serious Eats guide to Eating Pizza in Naples.
Ever made a traditional Peking duck? Turns out it's a pretty involved process, requiring not only multiple steps but multiple days, cooking apparatuses, and spices. The end result: an incredibly crispy, juicy bird that's seriously delicious. Come along with Serious Eats's own Carey Jones as she learns how to make Peking Duck. Chef Brian Ray of Buddakan gives us the grand tour.
We're looking at what I like to call the "Big 3" of Cheerios: Original, Honey Nut and MultiGrain. Any die-hard original Cheerios fans out there? Can we talk about the awesomeness of Honey Nut and MultiGrain?
Last week, we examined the distinction between single malt and blended Scotch whiskies. Today, we'll step back a bit and take a more detailed (much more detailed) look at the single malt. I'll describe what single malts are, explain how they're made and aged, discuss the concept of Scotch terroir, and explore some of the regional variations. Grab a tasting glass and let's get started!
Uh oh. The buzzer rings. Friends are coming over to spread holiday cheer and you panic. Serve frozen dumplings...again?! You can do better than that. Print out this list of easy-to-assemble, stress-free, mostly-sub-20-minutes-to-prepare munchies and paste it to the fridge. Here are 60+ dips, hors d'oeuvres, small bites, toasty snacks, sweet nibbles, appetizers, and more festive munchies to prepare in a snap.
The Serious Eats Cookie Swap has become an annual tradition. We break out the Duane Reade tinsel and twinkle lights, and are forced to do a major office detox to make room for cookies. Many, many cookies. (OK, maybe a dozen doughnuts snuck in this year too). It was our third year swapping, and as per tradition, the tables were covered with butter-laden treats. Our NYC-based contributors really pulled out their ninja baking skills. Get all the recipes here.
Our recipe for Bacon Banh Mi brings our favorite Vietnamese sandwich home, swapping out the usual array of cold cuts and charcuterie for bacon but staying true to the other elements that make this sandwich so balanced and irresistible.
When you think about Thanksgiving and you think about various elements of the Thanksgiving meal, it seems like you're just waiting through the big meal to get to the pie. I really believe this, which is why I always fantasized about an all-pie Thanksgiving. (Anyone with me on this?) At an editorial meeting about a month ago, we were at the office talking about Thanksgiving coverage and I shared this fantasy with the team. Knowing how much I adore and obsess over pie, the Serious Eats editors weren't too shocked, so we did the only thing we know how to do: make it happen.
Urban legend has it that some industrial candy snafu botched the names of 3 Musketeers and Milky Way. The tale has a certain logic. 3 Musketeers doesn't have three ingredients but Milky Way does. And the very name Milky Way recalls the smooth, uninterrupted creaminess found in 3 Musketeers. Those kinds of wonky urban legends ran amok in the eighties, but we have the internet now, so let's clear this stuff up. It's not a tasty tabloid tale of "Switched at Birth!" but rather "Murder, She Wrote."
When you first joined me in my quest to unlock the secrets of culinary time travel, I told you it would take equal parts science and magic to make the foods that could power the flux capacitor of the mind. I said, "leave the DeLorean in the garage, preheat your oven to one point twenty one gigawatts, and rev that Kitchen Aid to eighty eight mph. We're going back to the Eighties." And we did. But while there, what if some careless action altered our timeline? Could we, like Marty McFly, inadvertently create an alternate universe? One where the Keebler Soft Batch Cookie tastes freaking delicious? Friends, this isn't speculation. I have done such a thing.
Dried mango was matched up with cilantro, garlic, and jalapeno to make this juicy chicken link. It's bright, fresh, and fruity.
[Photograph: Kenji Alt] Want more details? Here are the ins-n-outs. Follow Kenji on Facebook or Twitter....
This week we survived a salt and vinegar chips tasting (try feeling your tongue after one of those!), played fetch with Hambone, special-ordered the semi-discontinued Rice Krispies Treats Cereal, and more. And if you're wondering, yes, RKTC would be RK cereal that turned into treats then transformed back into cereal again (full circle!).
This week at Serious Eats World Headquarters, we ate loads of chocolate sandwich cookies for our Oreo/Faux-reo taste test, filled up our office with Sandwich Festival goods, watched Ed attempt to feed Hambone, and more (and by "more" we mean "Hambone Hambone Hambone").
I'm not sure how else to break this except to just come out and say it. On Wednesday morning, my French bulldog Dumpling was struck by a bus outside of my apartment building. He died in my arms on the way to the emergency room.
This week at Serious Eats World Headquarters, Dumpling napped and drooled, a swarm of bees took shelter in a nearby mailbox, I confirmed I don't like absinthe, and a few of us met some cows (ok, that last one happened far, far away from SEHQ). The slideshow is 75 percent Dumpling in one way, 125 percent in another. Enjoy!
This "Memphis-style" is my favorite to make at home—it takes the aspects of sweet tomato-based sauces I grew up on, but by dialing back the sugar and amping up the vinegar, creates a sauce where seasonings and spice are more defined and achieves a pleasing balance between the main defining aspects of a barbecue sauce.
These are the only fancy-restaurant fried clams I think are really worth the cash ($14 half/$26 full). That they start with Ipswich bellies makes all the difference; these juicy, sweet, whole-belly behemoths are harvested from the mud flats off Ipswich, where experts claim that the particularly nutrient-rich soil gives the bivalves their superior, almost nutty flavor.
Sherbets and sorbets require a spoon, but they date back to the Persian Empire, when vividly flavored fruit- or flower-based syrups were mixed with snow to make a cool, refreshing drink called sharbat.
Last Thursday morning, Dean Sparks, a dairy farmer from upstate New York stopped by the office with some cheese, eggs, and milk. They come from nymilk, a New York state consortium of around 35 upstate organic dairy farms that...
As food aesthetics go, the murky, rust-brown, pebbly lalla musa dal at Tamarind Bay Coastal Kitchen can't compare to the restaurant's other specialties like the fennel cream-sauced cauliflower dumplings or the spiced lobster tail. But famed Indian chefs like Julie Sahni don't consider this dish "the most exquisite of all dal preparations" for nothing, and speaking in terms of decadence, it outclasses the rest by a long shot.
For all that I've grilled (150-plus recipes and counting), there's always plenty of uncharted territory. One of those areas: planking. There aren't usually many planking recipes in cookbooks, save the ubiquitous planked salmon. Put simply, planking is cooking food directly on a piece of hardwood. When cooking this way, the surface of the food touching the wood picks up some of the plank's natural flavors.
I don't use the word magical lightly, but there really is something wondrous about making bagels at home. Maybe it's the shape. I think most everyone understands a loaf of bread, but the round shape with a hole ... well, it seems like a whole lot more work than simply plopping some dough in a loaf pan. But it's not. Really. Try making just one batch of these, and I'm sure you'll have the process down pat. Put on your sorcerer's robe and follow along!
Anybody who's been halfway around the block is aware of In-N-Out's secret menu, which allows you a few custom options other than the regular hamburger, cheeseburger, fries, shakes, and Double-Double that appear on their printed menus. But the options don't stop there. Here's a rundown of everything you can get at In-N-Out, secret menu and beyond.