Super Southern Sampler Special:

the super southern sampler special in all its glory

David’s welcome back dinner took a swing for the South this time, with a super southern sampler special. After much deliberation, I decided upon deviled eggs three ways, baby back ribs with David’s favorite home-made bourbon brown sugar sauce, black eyed peas with smoked ham hock, white chocolate whopper pudding, buttermilk biscuits, and crunchy buttermilk oven fried chicken.

Much of the thought process was devoted to a debate about how to prepare the chicken. After considering deep frying the chicken, I considered my past and decided against going the full Paula Deen with it. I know that oven fried chicken may seem like a cop out to you, but I have my reasons.

The following is a true story:

Sophomore year in college, I was hanging out at my friend Caleb’s Ludlow apartment watching badly dubbed Japanese films and decided I wanted to make donut holes. We bought peanut oil and biscuit dough in a can, sugar and cinnamon, and I was all set to make donut holes, just like I watched my mom do when I was a kid.

I knew nothing about cooking with oil, smoking points, or where the lid to the pot we were using was. These proved to be rather important details.

After heating the oil to a point where I thought I saw “steam” coming off of the oil, I deemed it hot enough to put the biscuit dough into the pot. I took several small pieces, lowered them carefully in, and…ignition. They instantly caught on fire. The pot of oil followed suit, and thick black smoke began filling the kitchen, quickly moving to the rest of the efficiency. Without the lid to the pot, and with the impressive heat the pot was generating, we were unable to get close enough to smother the flames. Through my panic, I realized that we were going to have to do something I had never done before.

We were going to have to call the fire department.

I told Caleb to call the fire department and give them his address. Staring numbly at the potted inferno in the kitchen, he replied. "O.K. What's the number?"

"911! Did I really just have to tell you that?"

The fire department is right down the street on Ludlow. They were fast, and boy were they enthusiastic. Somehow, though, in a game of telephone, a pot of oil on fire had been translated into an entire stove on fire. The firefighters sprinted up the stairs. The leader of the group grabbed the scalding hot pot, smothered the fire with another lid, and threw the lidded pot of hot oil out the open kitchen window, into the parking lot below, an action that still puzzles me to this day.

He turned around and began hooking up a fan to blow out the smoke that was lingering in the apartment. As he was working, another firefighter charged up the stairs, hose in tow, ready to put out the stove that was supposedly about to catch the entire building on fire.

“Nah, man.” Said the first firefighter, waving him off, looking a little annoyed. I watched the firefighter with the hose start dejectedly winding the hose back up to take to the truck. He looked a little disappointed. I was never invited back to Caleb’s apartment after that.

So, because catching the kitchen on fire, or giving myself a nasty hot oil burn would really ruin dinner, I decided not to risk deep frying the chicken, especially without a companion who knew what they were doing in case something went awry. I marinated the chicken overnight in a mix of buttermilk, Frank's red hot sauce, elephant garlic cloves and a little diamond crystal salt.

David loves deviled eggs, and though I've never tried to make them before, they seemed easy enough. I decided to make three different kinds: chipotle, curry, and classic. My favorite was by far the chipotle, which had a little finely chopped chipotle in adobo.

can't go wrong with baby backs

The biscuits were really a product of the buttermilk chicken. I had half a container of left over buttermilk, and really, is there any question about what to do with left over buttermilk? No, there is not.

but mostly lard

I distinctly remember playing rock-paper-scissors with my 1st grade best friend, Jill Vescovo, in the Memphis lunchroom. Loser had to eat the other's black eyed peas, which was an awful fate at the time. So I added them to the menu. They were much better than I remembered, but I doubt the black eyed peas of my youth were simmered with a smoked ham hock for 3 hours.

The white chocolate whopper pudding really came out of nowhere. I wanted to make a malted chocolate pudding and garnish it with whoppers, but despite the fact I am told malted milk is readily available at Kroger, I couldn't find the damn stuff anywhere. So I settled for putting some whoppers in a bag and pulverizing them with the rolling pin, which worked just fine.

S'meeps:

Open peep season is almost over, but one could argue that now is the best time go out and stock up, with the heavy discounts applied to those peeps that are still on the shelves. A few days ago, I saw the s'meeps idea on photograzing, and when I saw the candy on sale at a local grocery, loaded up a basket.

There are just a few steps to making s'meeps.

1. Purchase your peeps, and chocolate of choice. Hershey's bunnies seemed to be a no brainer.

2. Pick the bravest looking peep of the bunch to rally your peeps.

Peeponidus

Peeps! Prepare for GLORY

3. Assemble the s'meep.

I used the chocolate bunny's ears, which everyone knows are the tastiest part

4. Toast, while watching carefully to prevent a meltdown.

5. Enjoy!

Smashburger:

Before I moved in with David to our college apartment in Clifton, I lived in the Loveland/ Indian Hill area with my parents. I had several part time jobs in the Mason Montgomery area, and yes, that includes working the Vortex at Kings Island, (because what kid who grew up in that area didn't do some time in an oh-so-fashionable blue polyblend polo?) and I drove through Fields Ertel several times a week.

Nowadays, I rarely venture up North, except when visiting my Dad. Driving around Mason, Westchester and Montgomery, I am usually struck by two things.

1. There is crazy development up there. What was once fields or lots are now entire massive shopping centers. Where'd that Whole Foods come from?

2. It's scary. It's the traffic that's frightening to me. I'm honestly surprised that only my first car was totaled by someone running a red light.

But there are lots of good things, despite the automotive congestion and exponentially expanding suburban sprawl. Lots of new restaurants, like Smashburger, have sprung up, and when my Dad wanted to visit one of them for his 51st birthday, I certainly wasn't going to turn him down. I did, however, ask him to drive there.

David and I each got different burgers with different sides. I chose the "Spicy Baja burger"($5.99) with guacamole, fresh jalapeños and pepper jack on a chipotle bun, and David ordered the classic ($5.99). I got the seasoned fries, and David picked the fried pepper rings.

pepper rings ehn-hance!

The burgers are thick, and rather prettily presented. I can appreciate the artful (though spicy) jalapeño arrangement. I really enjoyed the chipotle bun, and I like the fact there are several buns to choose from. The fries were nice and crispy, and the pepper rings were definitely interesting, though a little salty for us.

artful spicy arrangement

If we were up in that area again, I think we'd return to Smashburger. All the employees were friendly, food was served quickly, and the burger, especially on the chipotle bun, was tasty. I'd say it beats out Five Guys, which is quite a feat.

A grilled cheese a day...

As many of my friends and acquaintances know, I'm pretty fond of cheese. Okay, that's an understatement. I may have a teeny, weeny cheese problem.

I also enjoy grilled cheese sandwiches. A lot. Most days when I come home from work for lunch, I have enough time in my lunch hour to heat my cast iron skillet (bought and reserved specifically for grilled cheese sandwiches) make a grilled cheese, eat lunch, then head back to work.

I've made different grilled cheeses with varying ingredients on 4/4, 4/5, 4/6, 4/7 and 4/8. This weekend I learned that April is National Grilled Cheese Month, so it only makes sense to continue the cheesy, delicious trend I've started.

So I've decided, for the rest of the month, to make grilled cheeses for weekday lunch when I come home. There's only one rule:

No repeats, including sandwiches I have made months prior. I figure this will force me to be a little more creative with the sandwiches.

Rather than posting my progress on the blog, I'll be posting pictures each day on my twitter feed here. I've already got a week's worth of grilled cheese planned out. Any combinations that I shouldn't miss? Got a favorite? Leave a comment and I'll try to work it into the schedule!

Bellevue Bistro:

David and I have different priorities and routines on the weekends.

It can probably be explained with how we were each raised; in my parents' house, we were rarely allowed to sleep in. Weekends were time for chores and errands and outings to the zoo or the antique car show or bike rides or something. Rise and shine...here's your weekend itinerary. Ready, set. go.

David, on the other hand, views weekends as a chance to recharge, to sleep in, and to chill out. By the time he's up and moving, I've already planned out the day, and sometimes, I've even gone to the store and come back.

But most of the time, this happens:
　

"Hey, David....David..."

"WAKE UP DAVID!"　

Because of our conflicting ideologies on weekends, brunch rarely happens unless we plan on it. I don't put it on the schedule, and, after running around doing errands, usually don't get hungry until after most brunches are over.

Brunch is a meal, unlike dinner, that has to be specifically planned for. But there are a few exceptions, a few places that will stop me from filling our weekends with errands, social events and chores and put brunch on the schedule. Bellevue Bistro is one of them.

We've visited twice now for brunch, and the menu has recently changed and expanded. Everything that we've had there has been delicious, and some dishes come out on a almost sizzling, too-hot-to-touch flat skillet, which is pretty awesome. The place has character, with the Star Wars memorabilia and action figures placed strategically around the restaurant, and the local, rotating artwork on the walls.

I've gotten the goetta sandwich ($5.95) , and the biscuits and gravy (also $5.95), and both were excellent. The skillet potatoes were lightly seasoned and delicious.

David has tried the Kentucky hot brown Benedict ($7.95) with fresh baked biscuit, tomatoes, bacon, turkey, cheese, crab meat and fried eggs, topped with hollandaise. He raved about it all the way home. He also ordered one of their "breakfast bakes" and said it was fantastic.

We've met my mom there for brunch both times, and she chose to go a little lighter and try one of the salads on the lunch menu, which she liked.

We like Bellevue Bistro a lot, and I'm sure that we'll be back there soon.

Los Aztecas in Louisville:

I threw up my hands in frustration and huffed at David. At the same time, David’s stomach let out an unhappy rumble. “This is stupid.” I said.

We were trying to enjoy the first night of our vacation to Louisville. But instead of seeing the sights and exploring the city, we were engaged in a knock-down, drag out discussion of where we should go for dinner. It was now rounding the half hour mark, and we were no closer to a decision than we were when we had sat down to weigh our options.

Someone had to take a stand. “Let’s go to Los Aztecas.” I said. Earlier in the day at Louisville Glassworks, someone had endorsed the place, and that was good enough for me, especially after our lack of consensus over the past half hour.

“Los Aztecas? Mexican? Are you sure?” David questions, bringing up the fact that we are at Taqueria Mercado downtown in Cincinnati at least one night a week.

“Yes. Los Aztecas. No more discussion! Shoes! Now!” I said, tossing David a pair of socks and grabbing my coat.

And off we went.

Los Aztecas is pretty much what we were expecting, and the staff were friendly. The restaurant was quiet, but it was a weeknight, a few days before Thanksgiving. Because we were on vacation, we decided to live it up, with margaritas, tequila shots, and the one of the biggest beers I’ve ever seen ordered at a Mexican restaurant.

We ordered the cheese dip, which had an amazing cherry tomato flavor, but a weird texture. It was almost as if the acids in the tomato had separated the cheese. Despite that, I still liked it for the flavor alone.

I chose to try a tostada, which comes default with barbacoa, and the carnitas with rice and beans. The carnitas were excellent, but the beans were a bit of a let down--they could definitely use some more fat and maybe some additional seasoning. The rice was unremarkably good or bad.

David ordered the one of their special plates, which he liked.

Overall, I'd say Los Aztecas is a pretty strong Mexican restaurant, and if David and I ever end up in an epic argument about where to eat for dinner in Louisville again, there is a good chance we'd return.