We were so fond of the sweet-citrusy-boozy lemon liqueur—especially after a hearty plate of Hopeland's short rib ragu cavatelli—that we asked Roy Marino to show us how it's made (short answer: lots of Everclear and some time).
redfish hasn't written a post yet.
Courtway Restaurant is a few blocks north of the Chicago Board of Trade and a few blocks south of City Hall, so you'd think that its location in the midst of all the busy-bee stuff downtown would make it easy to find. But after about seven years of working in the Loop, I had no idea this place even existed.
Last year, Tokyo Ramen Street opened in the First Avenue Tokyo Station retail center, which includes about 100 stores and restaurants. Here you'll find eight of Tokyo's finest ramen shops, drawing long lines of adoring Japanese fans, mostly salarymen. For non-Japanese newcomers, there's a mix of mystery and confusion.
We opened up the Serious Eats Mailbag this monday to find a package addressed to Official Serious Eats Mascot and Chief Financial Officer Hambone (a.k.a. Jamón). Inside the box was the most darling pizza-shaped dog toy, complete with squeaker in the crust. The toy came to us from long time Slic'er dhorst's dog Miss Ellie, whose friend Tammy Johnson seems to be a master at creating cute things out of cloth over at Fessenden Hill Creations.
In today's edition of our brewer interview series, we're checking in with Wayne Wambles of Cigar City Brewing in Tampa, Florida. He has some exciting new beers and collaborations in the works, so let's join him for a pint.
While Boulder Junction is far from a top burger in the city, it's still pretty good, especially considering there aren't a ton of other noteworthy burger places in Brookfield.
Over the course of thirty years, the Island of Boca Grande in Florida went from having zero iguanas to over 10,000. This invasive species was making it impossible for native plants and animals to survive. The island finally decided to do something about it; they called George Cera. We went on trip around the island with this hired gun... and of course, we ate some iguana.
The occasional problem with braised chicken dishes is that now matter how flavorful and dynamic the ingredients you start with are, over the cooking process they can end up muted and tame. That is definitely not the case with this Daniel Boulud recipe in Chef, Interrupted. Boulud, of course, knows a few things about braising, and here he pairs the chicken with a handful of ingredients that seem to only get more intense over time, making for a dish that is spicy and acidic—two things I love.
While the Mexican craft beer market is a few years behind its US counterpart in terms of variety and availability, the country's beer roots are much deeper and more cosmopolitan than many assume.
Just under a year in, I was opening up one afternoon and a friend walked in with someone else in tow. The man was introduced as the owner of a hotel in Times Square which had an old bar on the first floor. After telling me in no uncertain terms how negatively he regarded his hotel's bar, he mentioned that its current owner would be losing his lease after more than forty years, and would we consider stopping by to check out the space?
Equal parts non-traditional Philadelphia hoagie shop and non-traditional Jewish deli, Koch's makes some of the best and most unique sandwiches in the city.
There has been an interesting comment that that keeps popping up in the threads of these columns. It goes something like this: "I'm sick of the trend where bartenders think that they are god's gift to humanity. Your job is to make drinks, not to educate, babysit, or judge people. So do us all a favor; stow the attitude, and do your job."
The Jumbaco from Jack in the Box isn't an official menu item, but you can craft your own double taco burger by ordering the Jumbo Deal.
Rhea's certainly isn't reinventing the wheel here. What they are doing is serving up a satisfyingly sloppy diner burger that's plenty special in my book.
The Billy Goat Tavern is the sort of Chicago landmark that one hopes never changes. Well, I'd like to change one thing. See, all this fame isn't exactly the same thing as acclaim, and I think I know why.
Dantanna's may not be the best-known sports bar in Atlanta, but it likely has the best sports bar burger—10 ounces of ground brisket and chuck steak with sautéed onions, aged cheddar, and marinated portabellas on a buttered-and-griddled brioche bun.
Even if you're a mayo person, I'll ask you to reconsider the next time lobster is involved. Butter is one of the world's great flavor-foods, whereas commercial mayo's charms, such as they are, are largely textural. Binders and slickeners have their place, but that place is not on something as proud as lobster, which tastes so good on its own—or with butter—that it doesn't need to get by on a texturality.
Today's beer history installment is something of a micro-level view of my previous column on German-American brewers—but this one has a Halloween twist. The story of the rise and fall of the Lemps, once one of America's most powerful brewing families, reads like something out of gothic fiction; and, as would be entirely appropriate for that genre, some say that they've never left.
Could your living room be the next buzzed-about coffee origin? Well, you'd have to buy a lot of these delightful Grow Your Own Coffee kits to produce anything near enough beans to make a splash, but it's still fun to think of yourself as a kind of armchair Juan Valdez.
While ostensibly German-style lagers dominate the bulk of the American beer landscape now, German brewers were a relatively late addition to the scene, arriving in large numbers only in the mid-19th century. But the successes of this often tight-knit community bred resentment and xenophobia from those whose forebears had arrived in the US in earlier waves of immigration—and that ill will helped to bring about Prohibition. But before we rush straight to 1920, a brief review is in order.
The mental picture we have of Juan Valdez both raises and answers some interesting questions about coffee in the southwestern hemisphere. We know how coffee first made its way there (initially thanks to the Dutch, French, and English), but what happened once it arrived?
The novelty of black IPAs to the beer scene is highlighted by a total lack of agreement about what to call them—you may see them described as Cascadian Dark Ales or American Black Ales, and the American Brewer's Association pithily calls them, American-Style India Black Ales. (ASIBAs? Yeah, that'll stick...) Personally, I hope that Black IPAs are here to stay. We tasted a dozen of them, all solid beers, and very diverse. We've divided them up into two categories—heavier and intense, or lighter and more quaffable.
Any serious discussion about the state of pizza in the United States must eventually lead to sausage. In large swaths of America, a pizzeria is judged not just by the quality of its crust, but by the quality of its preferably-homemade-but-definitely-at-least-custom-blended-by-a-master sweet Italian fennel sausage. What's that? Never made sausage before, you say? Don't worry. By the end of the day, you'll be a pro.
Though no coffee's grown there, Europe has been coffee-driven since at least the 16th century. But how did that heady liquid wind up in cups throughout the Continent in the first place?
Do we really need a spread that's primarily cheese and mayonnaise? In the case of pimento cheese, the answer is yes.