Restaurant News: Olives Going Wild in Boca, I'm Greek Today in Royal Palm Beach, Gulf Oysters Get a Reprieve

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•    By Dec. 1, Todd English's Wild Olives in Boca Raton should be going full bore. The former Opus 5 is currently transitioning to Wild Olives' Mediterranean-esque menu, with the full dinner menu said to be in place by Tuesday, Nov. 24, and lunch a week later. A few items on the menu: crispy skin Florida snapper, porcini-crusted organic chicken, house-made veal agnolotti and English's signature "carpetbagger oysters," fried bivalves with beef carpaccio and truffled whipped potatoes.

•    If you want to eat Greek today, I'm Greek Today is now dishing all the familiar Hellenic staples in Royal Palm Beach. Former Canadian restaurateur Chris Pappas opened the casual, moderately priced eatery in the old Naylah space, where he's trying to lighten up classic dishes by using less salt and heart-healthy oils.

•    Oyster slurpers (and shuckers) can rejoice. The federal government has decided not to implement a plan to ban sales of raw oysters from the Gulf of Mexico during warm-weather months. The ban was proposed to halt the 15 or so deaths per year caused by eating oysters infected with a bacteria prevalent in coastal waters between April and October. But oystermen and bivalve junkies from Apalachicola to New Orleans raised hell and the feds backed off. So grab your lemon and Tabasco and start slurping.

Yo, Lardass!

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Wanna know why your gut hits your ankles when you walk? Why your thighs have more ripples than the Gulf of Mexico in a hurricane? Why your ass is big enough to blot out the sun? 

The "Twinkie Casserole" (24 Twinkies topped with caramel, mini marshmallows and brown sugar, topped with caramel icing), perhaps. Or the "Ultimate White Trash Hot Dog" (hot dog infused with cheese, deep fried, wrapped in bacon and fried again) or "El Nino" (ground beef, sauteed onions, sour cream, lettuce, tomato and cheddar cheese wrapped in a large pepperoni pizza). 

These and all your cardiologist's greatest hits can be found at one of the world's most disgusting blogs: thisiswhyyourefat.com.

Your Starbucks Barista Coffee Grinder Could Be a Killer

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There's a killer on the loose.

It's a quiet Monday morning, and you're in your kitchen, making yourself a cup of fresh ground coffee with your Starbucks Barista coffee grinder. You pop some beans into the hopper and press the grind button. Ah, smell that fresh coffee smell. After a few seconds, you remove the cap and move to pour that fragrant powder into your coffee maker. Then it happens: the Barista springs to life, blades churning and hungering like a gaping maw. It lunges for your jugular. You try to duck out of the way, but you're just too slow. Looks like you'll be drinking your coffee out of a tube from now on. In the morgue. (Because you're dead.)

OK, so that scenario will definitely not happen. But Starbucks is recalling its Barista model coffee grinders, which, according to the company, can "fail to turn off or turn on unexpectedly, resulting in injury." Starbucks announced the recall of 530,000 grinders in June following nearly 200 reports of error (none of which were death related). You can see here that the company is still displaying this literature in its stores. The recall also applies to Seattle's Best coffee grinders as well. If you have one, best call 866-276-2950, or visit www.starbucks.com. But act fast, lest the killer strike your happy home too. 

CSPI Releases GorgeFest Report

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This is you on Uno's
The Center for Science in the Public Interest has just released its report "Xtreme Eating 2009" detailing the nine worst restaurant foods, and three of them, a full one-third, come straight from The Cheesecake Factory.

By "worst," I mean those "appetizers" and entrees that pack the equivalent or more of a full day's calories; that's about 1,800 to 2,200 for most of us.

And don't get me started on the salt! Or the saturated fat!

To sum up what has happened to restaurant dining in the past three or four decades: Cast your mind back to those halcyon days when an "appetizer" was most likely a bowl of soup or a green salad. What "fast casual" restaurants like Olive Garden, Applebee's, Chili's, Uno's, and the Cheesecake Factory are doing nowadays is selling entrees as appetizers. That plate of sliders or baby back ribs or fondue or quesadillas may conceal enough calories and saturated fat to keep your metabolism busy for a week. Same thing with dessert. Any intrepid soul who's willing to do a three-courser could end up eating something like 6,000 calories in one sitting.

Supersize you! You'll argue, of course, that nobody eats like that. You always split your apps and desserts with your date, right? Well, you're not doing her any favors. If she shares your Uno Mega Deepdish Sundae, she's going to be putting away 1,400 calories just to eat her half of it. So romantic: You can waddle off into the sunset together, your fat little fingers entwined. Before you know it, you'll be sharing your 3x sweatpants and shopping at Lane Bryant together too.

Listen, I'm sorry, but this is freaking disgusting. What these places are selling isn't dinner; it's slop. You and I both know that to keep prices down and serve this much gross weight of food, the ingredients have got to be the cheapest (which almost always translates to "unhealthiest.") Salt is inexpensive. So is oil loaded with transfats. So is corn syrup used as sweetener. And it'll all make you sick.

What these restaurants are doing is unethical. Like the cigarette companies of yore, as long as they're making a profit off your ignorance, they couldn't care less if you expire before your time from diabetes and heart disease or if your organs are so sunk in blankets of fat that they can barely function anymore. I say, boycott these places and get your friends to boycott them too. They need to wise up and realize killing off their customers is a shitty way to do business. 

Ask the Critic: We're Insufferable Know-It-Alls

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The whole crew is standing by
Next Friday we launch our weekly Friday Feature, "Ask The Critic," invented for the sole purpose of allowing us to show off.

Readers: Send us your easy questions, send us your torturous riddles. "Where can I find beignet in Lauderhill?"; "Who makes the tastiest shark n bake?"; "How many calories are in the Kitchen Sink Sundae at Jackson's Ice Cream Parlor?", "What does balut taste like?"; "Is it true that Chef X is shagging his prep cook?"; "Do these pants make me look fat?"

We'll endeavor to find out. Pose your questions to the group or tag one of us in particular.

Our areas of expertise are multitudinous and overlapping, but we've worked out a rough division of labor that seems to have broken down along these lines:

Bill Citara: Wine Snob
John Linn: Pit man. Barbecue, Japanese, Mexican, or anything that narrows the arterial walls.
Brett Gillin: Intrepid & Parsimonious  (he'll eat anything, particularly if it's cheap)
Gail Shepherd: Inveterate lush. Social climber. Chocolate. Oh hell, just ask me anything.
Eric Barton: Once his wife knew somebody who knew somebody who got them a table at the French Laundry. Maybe she can get you one too.
Vicki: Licorice whip tester and Jawbreakers aficionado.

Send us your questions NOW and we'll answer them NEXT FRIDAY!

Break Spinning With Pizza Dough

File this under: "Amazing things people do for no reason at all." But I'm not sure I'd want to eat this pizza after he was done with it.


A Perfect Pair

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This pretty matched set of cupcakes, one chocolate, one vanilla, and both with the most ethereal pink cream icing, comes from a place you wouldn't ordinarily think to buy your baked goods. But after you've tried on many lucite bangles and pillbox hats, bought a ruby-colored patent leather handbag to match those adorable kitten-heel pumps, and come to the sad recognition that a size 8 in 1952 was a good deal smaller than the 8s hanging in your closet, the goodies are waiting for you in cramped little kitchen at the rear of this 1920s house.

To find out where, hit the jump.   

Anti-Foie Gras Types Fight Dirty

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Hypocrite, n. One who, professing virtues that he does not respect, secures the advantage of seeming to be what he despises.                    
--Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary

Chris Consentino and Mark Pastore's taking on of the anti-foie gras jihadis, posted here, took more stones than you might know.

In 2003, San Francisco chef Laurent Manrique and two partners were in the process of opening a "gourmet" foods store in the wine country town of Sonoma (where I lived for several years). Among the foods they were planning to sell were several preparations of foie gras, as one of the partners owned Sonoma Foie Gras farm. For some reason, this small shop in a historic building in downtown Sonoma, called Sonoma Saveur, attracted the attention of a particularly bat-rabid species of animal rights activists.

Here's what happened.

Person or persons unknown (they never have been caught) broke into the still unopened shop, filled sinks and toilets with cement, spray painted slogans all over and turned on the taps, flooding the shop and two adjacent ones and causing an estimated $50,000 in damages.  They also attacked Manrique's home and that of his other partner, Didier Jaubert. They splashed acid on their cars, splashed red paint on their houses, spray painted more slogans ("Murderer" and "Go home" -- both Manrique and Jaubert are French), and glued locks and garage doors shut.

Now it gets really creepy.

Chris Consentino and Mark Pastore in Defense of Foie Gras

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Gaia.be
Call me late to the party, but I just stopped in to Chef Chris Consentino's site, Offal Good, to read up on what I've missed lately in the world of innards. Back in March, Consentino responded to a letter and phone call from one particularly infuriated "customer" questioning whether the celeb chef would be taking foie gras off the menu at his San Francisco restaurant, Incanto. When Consentino, an ardent defender of all things offal, responded with a "no," the angry caller informed him that he or she would be staging a protest at the restaurant. Consentino and his business partner, Mark Pastore, decided that, if said caller came to fight, foie gras would be their "Alamo." Presumably, Chef was sincerely worried that some ardent animal rights activist would quarter his ass right there on Church Street. And really, he should be.

But, in prototypical pen-is-mightier-than-the-sword fashion, Pastore decided not to duke it out on the steps in front of his restaurant. Instead, he wrote an extremely impassioned and well-thought-out letter in defense of foie gras and posted it on the Incanto website.
  

Race for the Burger Is On

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the Char-Hut one-third pounder getting toasted
How we agonize over this category every year when we're putting together our Best Of issue. We may as well be trying to pick the prettiest girl, the juiciest mango, the most colorful sunset. Hundreds of places sell hamburgers in Broward-Palm Beach. Dozens are famous for the things they do to prime or chuck or Kobe beef. The personal preferences, we'd even say quirks, of our staff are legion: bun type and size, condiments, texture, grease factor, price, even the surroundings in which the burger is served comes into play. By the end of the process, fistfights have broken out in the office over the question of meat-to-bun ratio. Close friends have stopped speaking to each other.

The question of cost sends us into a panic: How to compare a $25 Kobe burger cooked on a state of-the-art grill by some celeb chef against the fast-food quickie so many regular folks depend on day after day?

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"I coulda been a contender." Char-Hut's poppyseed bun and side of onion rings.
I have my opinions, and they do not necessarily reflect, nor are they endorsed by, the corporation known as Village Voice Media. To summarize Shepherd's checklist:

1. A burger is the people's food. It shouldn't cost an arm and a leg. Anything over $12 no longer qualifies as a burger. It's chopped steak.
2. I prefer a burger made with chuck. End of story.
3. Hand-ground on premises scores big.
4. Screw the filler. Don't put a bunch of junk in my burger -- bread crumbs, chopped mushrooms, parsley, whatever. If I wanted meatloaf, I'd order meatloaf.
5. Must be juicy.
6. Brownie points for atmosphere. A funky neighborhood bar with loud music and tacky wall art gets the edge over a sterile franchise. Think: The Brass Ring. Le Tub. Alligator Alley. We do not exist in a vacuum, and neither can we separate the taste of the burger from the place in which it is tasted.


Global History of War, the Ultimate Food Fight

OMG, how did I miss this? An animated history of war, with each country represented by its most popular foods. Hilarious, in a totally gruesome, juvenile, and thoroughly un-PC way. Anybody who correctly identifies the players in each scene wins my undying admiration. Check it out.
 

They Shoot Chickens, Don't They?

Here's a way-cool graphic showing U.S. slaughter of meat, per second. Click here.

No Worries: That lead-filled tap water is perfectly safe

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He's lucky he doesn't live in D.C.
Just catching up on my reading here, and boy is it depressing. An April 10 expose in Salon has embroiled the CDC in a cover-up scandal about lead-tainted water in Washington D.C. Our august Center for Disease Control published studies in 2004 that reassured worried parents and health officials about lead levels in local water; only problem was, they left out about half the data. Whether the omission was deliberate or not is still an open question. Kids were suffering slurred speech and problems with motor skills that now appear to be a direct result of drinking DC tap water that had super high levels of lead. Meanwhile city councils around the country have jumped on the anti-bottled-water bandwagon, banning bottled H20 for city employees and crowing about how pure city tap water is.

I dunno about you, but this CDC fiasco has me wondering about water again. Maybe we should all be carrying around our own "Life Straw" so we can feel fine about sucking down the tap water hoity restaurants are so big on serving us these days. Check this out.

Bad News All Over Department

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the precocious acquisition of joy
Food related bad news is everywhere this morning, beginning with this story: Money doesn't buy happiness, as we know. But evidently fast food does. Researches at the University of Arkansas teamed up with the University of Taiwan to extrapolate from a long term study of Taiwanese children, a quarter of whom are now clinically obese. The results, published in the Journal of Happiness Studies,  found that the kids whose parents regularly let them eat fast food -- cokes, pizza, and burgers -- were significantly happier than the kids who weren't allowed to eat junk. They were also fatter, but hey, there's something behind the old saw, "Fat and Happy."

This study raised a bunch of questions in my mind, but it also didn't surprise me much. We all know by now that eating fat and sugar stimulates the brain's pleasure centers. It's not like fat Taiwanese kids are the only people on the planet who like candy and french fries. We're born with a taste for sugar because we're genetically engineered to go for the most calorie dense foods; it's a survival strategy. The study concludes that any intervention to thwart childhood obesity is going to have to include other, non-food-related, ways to generate the same kinds of thrills as eating a Big Mac. And that made me kind of sad. You wonder how limited these kids lives must be if KFC is the big highlight of their existence.

And, just as dispiriting:
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who knows what evil lurks in the cluttered cupboard?
A recent survey has found that Americans are extremely intelligent when it comes to hearing about food recalls and passing on the info to their friends and family. But when it comes to actually going through their fridge and cupboards to toss those poisoned pistachios or toxic fish fingers -- we're dumb as a box of hammers. Most of us evidently believe that food poisoning happens to other people: we don't buy those Clif Bars and pints of peanut butter ice cream. Surely our free-range, farm-raised piglet meat couldn't possibly be harboring trichinosis. I'm not pointing any fingers, I'm guilty as charged. I'd need to hire a steam shovel to go through my cupboards anyway: there's stuff in there that hasn't seen the light of day for a decade, and I aim to keep it that way. 

Post-Easter Regression: The Triple-Pork Sandwich. With Peeps.

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Peeps' Last Meal
My friend Peggy Jean was in town over the Easter holidays. Peggy Jean is a real Southern cook, which means that just about everything she makes calls for many pounds of butter, cartons of heavy whipping cream, half and half, bacon fat, salt, and variations on the theme of sugar (turbinado, honey, molassas). Peggy Jean is a cook who makes Paula Deen look like she's on the Mediterranean Diet. She made us a dinner of pulled pork shoulder, black eyed pea salsa, cheese grits, ground pork and sausage burgers, tea-cured grilled salmon, grilled pineapple, and green beans tossed with cured bacon ends that had been sauteed in turbinado sugar and balsamic vinegar. I did my part and made the cornbread. Then we ate an entire 8-layer yellow cake with chocolate icing and raspberry filling that Peggy Jean had also made up in her spare time. The next day, we put together the sandwich pictured above with leftovers: a pork burger topped with pulled roast pork topped with the cured bacon ends. We ate these with leftover grilled pineapple and Peeps. (Note: Peeps and pork shoulder are an inspired pairing.)

Addendum 4/16/09: check out Food & Wine's recipe for a double pork burger with bacon and cheese here.

Here follows PJ's recipes for pork shoulder and black eyed peas salsa:

Peggy Jean's BBQ Pork Shoulder (feeds 12 with lots of leftovers)

Preheat oven to 450

1 pork shoulder (5-6 lbs. We got a bag containing two 5 lb. shoulders at Costco for $14 and put one shoulder in the freezer)

For the marinade, mix well and set aside:
*Note: the marinade will be poured over the shoulder right before you bake it.
zest and juice of:
1 lime
1 lemon
1 orange
*note: save your leftover squeezed fruit for the black eyed pea salsa, below)
1 tbs fresh parsley
1 tsp. fresh thyme
1 tsp fresh rosemary
1/4 cup kosher salt (see what I mean about the salt?)
1/4 cup brown sugar
2 tbs honey
1 tsp chili powder
1 tsp cumin
1/2 tbs sweet paprika
3 tbs apple cider vinegar
1/2 cup olive oil
1 tbs ground black pepper
1 tsp worcestershire sauce
dash of tabasco

Rub roast with olive oil and season with salt and pepper
Place roast in roasting pan and sear on all sides in 450 oven, turning as each side browns. Remove from oven and reduce heat to 300. Pour the marinade over the roast, cover with foil, and immediately return to the 300 degree oven. Bake for 3-4 hours, until pork easily falls apart when poked with a fork. **Note, we finished the roast on a covered grill, for about 15 minutes, to give it a nice smokey flavor.

Peggy Jean's Black Eyed Peas Salsa

Mix together and set aside:
zest and juice of
1 lime
1 lemon
1 orange
1 tbs each parsley, cilantro, thyme
1 family size bag of frozen black eyed peas, thawed (sold at Publix)
1/4 cup bread and butter pickles
1/4 cup pickled okra
2 diced ripe tomatoes or 1 container grape tomatoes, halved
1 bunch scallions, thinly sliced, mostly white part.
1 tsp kosher salt
1 tsp worcestershire sauce
1 dash tabasco
1/2 tsp black pepper
1 tsp each: cumin, chili powder, paprika
3 tbs cider vinegar

Put black eyed peas in large pot with enough room to move around, and cover with water. Add half each of the used lime, lemon, and orange, cut in quarters. Add 2 tsp salt and 1/s tsp black pepper. Cook until tender but firm (al dente). Strain. Add the mixture of ingredients that you've set aside immediately and mix well. Can be served warm, at room temp, or chilled.



Breakfast of Champions: Scrapple!

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Ingredients: "Everything but the squeal"
Here's where Italy meets Philly meets the tropics: at Caffe Luna Rosa in Delray Beach you'll dine on homemade breads, handmade pasta, and veal chop Milanese at outdoor tables just a hop from the beach. Somehow that salt air is all the seasoning chef Ernesto di Blasi's Northern Italian specialties need. The gang at Luna Rosa are sticklers for quality: meat and poultry is natural and hormone free; tomatoes are the real San Marzano deal; hamburger is ground fresh daily in the kitchen; they even roast their own coffee beans! And they're as obsessive about breakfast, brunch, and lunch as they are about dinner. There isn't a pleasanter place to dig into your first meal of the day, from the overstuffed omelets and eggs Benedict to cinnamon swirl French toast, and if there's another restaurant in South Florida serving Philadelphia scrapple and pork roll we have yet to find it (if you don't know what's in it, don't ask, just eat). Even the creamed chipped beef on toast - a meal our servicemen used to fondly call SOS -- is a delicious exercise in nostalgia. 34 S Ocean Blvd Delray Beach, FL 33483 561-274-9404

Rachael Ray Donates 10 Tons of Dog Food to Miami Charity, Tries to Teach Dogs to Bark, "Yum-O!"

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Celeb chef Rachael Ray's clearly loves animals, as you can see above. If you visit the website for her line of gourmet dog food, the ridiculously titled "Nutrish," you'll find all sort of cute little stories about how Ray's dog Isaboo inspired her to create food for dogs without any of the fillers or junk that's in commercial dog food. As if that wasn't already sweet enough to make you want to prod your eyes out with salad forks, now, Ray is donating 10 tons of food from her Nutrish line to the hungry dogs at Sabbath Memorial Rescue Storage Center on 5933 Ravenswood Road in Miami.

Let me be the first to say that it's a really great thing that Rachael Ray is doing here. I just hope for the dog's sake, you know, that the food in question wasn't made the same way that Ray makes some of her other doggie concoctions, which is to say with ingredients that may be fatal to your dogs.

The non-kosher kosher hot dog riot

"I don't want to get stabbed for a hot dog" might be the quote of the year. Last week, a riot- the definition for that term seems to be getting looser by the news story, but we'll roll with it- broke out at a Brooklyn Shwarama King when Hasidic customers discovered the place was serving chicken hot dogs falsely advertised as kosher. The manager, Yosef Baron, had to fend off an angry mob with his meat-trimming electric knife.

It got Short Order wondering: how do we know that what's billed as kosher really is?

Not surprisingly, Miami Beach- psst, there's a large Jewish population there- has grappled with this question before. In fact, in 1969, the city created a tax-paid "kosher inspector" position that was in place for fifteen years, until the ACLU picked a fight with it. Their argument: that Miami Beach was using government funds to watchdog a private religion.

Nowadays, it's a "self-regulated" thing, says Rabbi Mordechei Fried of Kosher Miami, a private inspection group. Restaurants and stores hire KM as full-time "kosher supervisors" to make sure they're using the correct meat and handling procedures. In return, the business get KM's stamp of approval. "Each vibrant Jewish city has their own group of rabbis that have kosher restaurants under their supervision," Fried explains. "We feel secure enough to eat at restaurants, but unfortunately these things like what happened in Brooklyn can happen. It's not necessarily a failure of the system, it's just being human, there's always going to be a bad apple."

Planning for St. Pat's

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photo from persistentillusion.com
Only one day a year we get to dress in stupid emerald green hats and down as much Irish whiskey and Black & Tans as we can drink with two fists: St. Patrick's Day (not pictured above**) is ready to launch -- just look at your local pub, they've already covered every square inch of bar space in shamrocks and tinsel. Personally we're going to be doing our partying at Brogue's in Lake Worth, where in the spirit of New Times tipplers across the U.S., we've already set a match to drink Michael Mooney under the table (We'll see whose veins run with honest-to-God pure Irish blood!!!).

But you may prefer your drinking contests closer to home -- near enough that you can crawl to bed on all fours, in fact. So if Oakland Park is your neighborhood, call on your fleet of Leprechauns to hie you over to the Jameson Bar at Hugh's Culinary, where Hugh is laying out a spread of corned beef and cabbage, shepherd's pie, and soda bread to help you soak up the liquid. Music, bagpipes, and dancing has been promised, and the cost is a mere $10 per person, quite a deal if you stay from opening at 12 p.m. until "whenever." Hugh's is located at 4351 NE 12th Terrace, Oakland Park. Call 954-583-4844 to RSVP.

Other venues for Irish fun, this weekend through next week:
In Palm Beach County: Brogues, O'Shea's, The Dubliner, Slainte, Wishing Well, and Blue Anchor
In Broward: Biddy Early's, Briny's, Field Irish Pub, Waxy O'Connors, The Frog and Toad, McSorley's, Murphy's Law, Maguire's Hill.

Did I forget anybody? Leave your own recommendation in the comments.

**erratum: gratuitous photo of naked male ass has nothing to do with Ireland or St. Patty's Day 


Eat for Mardi Gras, Give It Up For Lent

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Mardi Gras King Cake: Easy to give up
They don't call it Fat Tuesday for nothing. Or Fat Monday, for that matter. We may as well stuff ourselves silly today and tomorrow, because you know what follows is a big long drag: Lent, which promises to zap all the fun from our lives for the following 40 days of fasting and prayer. 

To usher in this bizarre Catholic season, we have some suggestions for Mardi Gras meals, the memory of which ought to help get you through six beer-less  (or butter-less, or linzer torte-less) weeks. To take it from the top:

Cafe Boulud in Palm Beach, chef Daniel Boulud's Florida showcase, is presenting a Mardi Gras menu this week that includes oysters Bienville, poached redfish, and gumbo, a line-up of dishes so refined and delicious you'll seriously wonder if you ever need to eat anywhere else, ever. Maybe you just need to give up other restaurants for Lent, right? In fact, if you gave up fast food lunches for the next 40 days, you'd save enough to pay the bill for a single dinner at Boulud, and believe it, you wouldn't miss those Macmeals for a nanosecond.

Creolina's Dixie Takeout, a long-running Lauderdale institution, moved to State Road 7 in Davie last year. But their jambalaya, crawfish etouffe, red beans and rice, and cajun combo are as rib-sticking as ever, and they all squeak in under $11. Add in a side of fried green tomatoes or okra, scarf down the free corn bread or cheese biscuits, and the extra layer of fat will warm you through your first Lentish week.

Mudbugs are in season at Rosey Baby in Sunrise, where the Louisiana crawfish is shipped in weekly, thrown into a giant pot along with a mess of corn and potatoes, and served in one-, two- and five-pound buckets. For foolproof instructions on how to extract every morsel of goodness from these spicy little suckers, click here.

Our economic times are exactly right for a po' boy resurgence, a sandwich that manages to make a little bit of this and that go a long way. Shuck n' Dive Cajun Cafe stuffs them with andouille, Mississippi catfish, soft shell crab, or "Cajun injected pork roast." Pair with fried pickles and follow with bread pudding.

Kilmo will certainly be working his usual magic with our native saurian this week at Alligator Alley: dipping gator tail bites into his scrumptious secret batter, serving the ribs barbecued, filetting up gator steak to serve with szechuan sauce, cilantro, and lime, or serving it a la Buffalo with blue cheese dip. This week, sink your teeth into the best bar food in Lauderdale with background music by the Root Shakers (tonight), the Pastorius brothers (Wednesday) or the Alligator Alley Allstars (Friday). 

Tomorrow: Foods you really DON'T have to give up for Lent, no matter what your momma says.


Office Food Thieves Beware the Anti-Theft Lunch Bag

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Daily Candy
The Anti-Theft Lunch Bag, perfect for fooling troglodyte food thieves.


Long-time readers of Short Order may remember that the New Times offices weren't always a safe and happy place. There was a time long ago when terror stalked our cubicles -- when unsuspecting men and women fell pray to evil. I'm talking, of course, about the Shrimp Bandit: a fishy thief who, when no eyes were looking, crept into our break room and lifted our lunches from the refrigerator in order to sate his own craven appetite. We never did catch the Shrimp Bandit, as you can see in this reconnaissance video capturing him in action. Now he lays dormant. But some say he will return.

If he does, well, we'll be ready. Office food theft is a big concern for a lot of people it seems, so intelligent minds have pooled their resources and come up with this deterrent: anti-theft lunch bags. These nifty lunch bags instantly turn any sandwich, snack, or treat into a moldy-looking mess. Just imagine an office food thief, schlepping his hunched-back over to the fridge for his latest meal, and finding only a ham-and-cheese sandwich that's carrying the bubonic plague. He'll think twice before eating that bad boy. Order some of these bags, available in packs of 25 here, and you'll never have to worry for your lunch again.     

New Website Discovers the Cure For Obesity

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meadowlandsparkinglot
The Jabaconageburger with cheese, a cheeseburger topped with sausage and bacon and sandwiched between two Jamaican beef patties. Urg.


Food porn is all the rage these days. There are entire sites devoted to the obscene pleasures of voyeuristic foodie-ism, and they're growing in number each day. Just this week, food writer and chef Anthony Bourdain explored the subject on a special episode of his Travel Channel series No Reservations, complete with over-the-top camera angles and plenty of double-entendre about cream sauces and long, hard sausages. But the latest food porn craze is a website that revels so desperately in absurd gluttony while simultaneously mocking it that it's hard to look at it and not come away with coronary blockage. It is, the aptly-named, This is Why You're Fat.

Today's pic -- that disgusting concoction of Jamaican beef patties and cheeseburger you see above -- is just the tip of the iceberg. Spend a couple minutes on the site sampling such goodies as "the garbage pile" and (appearing on Short Order before) "the bacon double fatty melt," and your self-loathing just builds and builds. I mean, do we really need to be this self-destructive? What's next, a website for children of divorce entitled "You Are The Reason Mommy Left Daddy"? A montage of depressing photos for people on suicide watch called "It Feels Like Heaven Once All That Evil Finally Seeps Out of Your Wrists"? I'm not so sure it's really all that healthy and empowering to embrace all the terrible addictions in my life -- I already spend too much time guzzling beer like a 50-year-old NASCAR fan and supplementing my World of Warcraft addiction with a blog roll the size of Perez Hilton's ego. I frankly don't think I can take much more of this! If only I had something that would instantly make the pain go away... say, like a bacon shell taco! Oh sweet relief!

V-Day Planner: In Search of the Big O

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Belinda Eaton, Girl with Oysters, from Belindaeaton.com
Ply her with aphrodisiacs all night, and you've got it made, right? This week in New Times, Robb Walsh dispenses pearls of wisdom on the world's favorite bivalve here. And below, a plan to spend your V-Day shelling out:

Sage Bistro and Oyster Bar 
2000 Harrison St,, Hollywood, 954-391-9466 
This swank new raw bar and French bistro keeps at least four kinds of oysters on ice, all flown in daily. You might find Blue Point, Kumamoto, Fanny Bay, Island Creek, or Barron Point. They're pricey, though, at $28 a dozen. (See the full review here.) 

Shuck n' Dive Cajun Café 
650 N. Federal Hwy., Ft. Lauderdale, 954-462-0088 
It sounds just like what it is: a bayou oyster shack transplanted to Lauderdale. Order Louisiana Black Bay oysters freshly shucked, baked Rockefeller-style, fried, and stuffed into a poboy ($12.99), served with butter and blue cheese as "black and blues" or barbecued (all $8.99). Pair with a plate of fried green tomatoes.

Unearthed Cookbook Proves Rush Limbaugh Was Tortured as a Child



Hopeless jackass and Palm Beach county resident Rush Limbaugh has a particularly ridiculous sound byte traveling around the internet lately in which he's basically quoted as saying he doesn't want the Obama doctrine to succeed. The quote came from an interview Limbaugh did with Sean Hannity, in which Hannity asks the big guy, directly, if he wants Obama to be a successful president. Granted, when the clip was shown on the Daily Show, Limbaugh's answer was presented out of context, making it look like he straight up said, "I want Obama to fail." That's not entirely the case, as you can see above, but that doesn't change the fact that the guy is retarded. Socialized medicine will be the death of America as we know it? Apparently Rush hasn't thought this one over enough. I mean, if medicine is socialized he wouldn't have to work half as hard to cover up his pill habits. Just tossing it out there. (Yes, I resorted to an ad hominem attack. Deal with it.)

What does this have to do with food, you ask? Well, it's recently become clear that Limbaugh's brain-addled condition may have something to do with his upbringing (after all, don't neo-cons like him believe being gay is nurture, not nature? In that case, couldn't acute mental deficiencies be borne of the same thing?) Short Order recently discovered, by way of the Village Voice, by way of the Kansas City Pitch, that Rush Limbaugh was abused as a child. No really! With food!

Take a look after the jump.
 

Would You Like Pakora With That? Fast Food Outsourcing Order

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Jack in the Box is apparently testing a program to outsource their drive-through orders, routing requests for burgers and shakes to call-takers outside the country. The program is getting its first test run in Charlotte, North Carolina, where folks innocently pulling up to the order box are being taken for a ride. Let's face it, it's hard enough to get an order from a drive-though that hasn't been totally screwed up, even if you're talking to somebody 10 feet away who's spent the last 16 years speaking some approximation of English. And if my last go-round with a Sprint customer serviceperson in New Delhi is any indication of the kind of accuracy you can expect, I'd say you have about a 25 percent chance of receiving anything you remotely recognize as food (and thanks for asking, it's been six months, and I STILL haven't received my "rebate"). Let's close our eyes and try to imagine the exchange:

Me: I'll have the chicken fajita pita on whole grain, no salsa, an order of cheesy macaroni bites, the stuffed jalepenos, and a large oreo ice cream shake, hold the oreos.

Outsourced call taker (clearly reading from script): Thank you for calling today Ma'am. I hope you are having a very good day. Jack in the Box is having many delicious options to choose from. May I take your order?

Me: Um, well, I'll have the chicken fajita pita on whole grain, no salsa, an order of cheesy macaroni bites...

OCT: Today is your lucky day, Ma'am. We are running a special today, one day only, on the Junebug Bracing Cheeblammer Shilala Brooger for only two dollars. May I put you down for one of those today ma'am?

Me:What?

OCT: Today is your lucky day, ma'am....

Me: That's OK, I'd rather have the chicken fajita pita on whole...

OCT: I'm sorry? Could you repeat that?

Me: One chicken fajita pita...

OCT: And the Junebug Brooding Blubber comes with a very important rebate offer of $100 today only. You can go in line today to our web site to apply for your rebate, Ma'am, and within seventy weeks you can receive a check, which will bring your total cost for the Junebug Burfing Blogger to simply negative $98 dollars today Ma'am. May I take your order?

Me: No thanks, just the fajita pita....

OCM: Sorry, could you repeat?

Me: What?

OCM: Thank you ma'am. I am placing your order for the Junebug Bursting Bladder. As I have said, you may go in line today to apply for your rebate. May I ask you now ma'am, were you satisfied with the service you are receiving today Ma'am? 

Me: About that fajita?

OCM: Thank you for calling Jack in the Box, Ma'am. Please have a very good day.

***
And in other news, New Times is outsourcing its food reviews. Read about it here.

In Other Recession News...

unemployment.jpegHey, you. Yeah, you, the unemployed guy sitting on your couch surfing the Internets for a job. I would change those boxers, man. Shortly after doing that, I would head to epynomous sports pub Beef 'O' Brady's for what the Sun-Sentinel's John Tanasychuk says is a sure thing. No, not a job! A free meal.

According to Sup, the Beefs (Sunrise location only, at 10079 W. Oakland Park Blvd.) is feeling empathetic towards all you recently laid off people -- probably because they know you won't be spending your formerly hard-earned money with them anymore. All you have to do is bring in your pink slip. No friggin' joke: your PINK SLIP

Goddamn, Beefs. That's just cruel. It's gotta be like salt in the wounds to carry your termination letter around with you just to get a free bite. I mean, that's a step up from waving that thing around on the street corner, screaming "this could be you!" at passersby. And what if you didn't get a letter? Should you go back to your former place of employ and beg your boss for one, a la the kid who seeks a doctor's note to play hooky from school?

On the other hand, a free meal is a free meal. And, coincidentally, Beef's is hiring, at least according to it's homepage. Shoot, that's one stop shopping!

Put a Burka on that Gin Bottle!

demon_holding_open_mouth_of-hell_uzi.jpgHere's one for my "Oh for fuck's sake!" files:
Legislators in Utah are pushing to restrict restaurants that make mixed drinks in full view of minors, arguing that all those pretty, glittering bottles and delicious-looking garnishes behind the bar constitute a sore temptation, one that could lead youngsters to an unquenchable craving for Manhattans. Senate president Michael Waddoups says that the measure's necessary to protect the "safety and mental future of our children." Nevemind trying to decode that little phrase -- clearly kids who witness some heathen bartender flaming an orange peel are as liable to mental breakdown as any Iranian lad getting a glimpse of a passing female's accidentally uncovered ankle. The Devil, you know, is in the details.

If the law passes it would require restaurants to remodel their layout so the bar is effectively screened off from the dining room. Now I ask you, aren't you freaking grateful you weren't born in Utah? 

Waddoups adds that these semi-Draconian, post-Prohibition prohibitions are necessary because children's brains are undeveloped; thus they're more suceptible to alchohol damage. Seems like the kids aren't the only ones with the undeveloped brains here. On the other hand, if I hadn't watched my parents mix martinis from the time I was first able to burble out the phrase "twist, no olive" maybe I wouldn't be the unrepentant lush I am today. Go figure.

--Gail Shepherd

Everything But The Squeal

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Pigging Out for the Holidays.

Pictured above: The 35 pounds of pork I got in the mail from Heritage Foods USA this week, fully one quarter of a Six Spotted Berkshire hog. Price: $235. I'm determined to cook most of it to feed the extended family over the holidays, beginning of course with a fresh Christmas ham, to be served with potatoes Anna, brussels sprouts, and an ancient Christmas pudding hand-carried all the way from Scotland by my brother-in-law. Here's what was included in my piggy package:

  • pork spare ribs
  • osso bucco
  • a boneless sirloin
  • four center-cut pork chops
  • a fresh ham
  • maple sugar cured smoked bacon ends
  • a shoulder steak
  • 3 packages of smoked bacon
  • a shoulder roast
  • and a shitload of sausage and ground pork
I've got the recipe for an awesome pork and chile stew that will use up the spare ribs. I'll roast the boneless sirloin in a salt crust, a trick my other brother-in-law taught me (you actually use a whole box of kosher salt to make a thick, thick paste that you crack open after cooking). I'll use the bacon ends in our New Years Day black eyed peas (I plan to employ every superstitious hoodoo trick in the book to bring my family luck in  2009, gawd knows we'll need it); there will be meatloaf sandwiches made from the ground pork; and of course, bacon will go in, under, and around everything we eat at every meal: I think I might even try to make some bacon ice cream  --which will require me to finally buy the ice-cream attachment for the old Kitchen Aid. Anyway, yum, right? If you can stand it without perishing from envy, tune in over the holidays for pictures and recipes.


*Heritage Foods USA buys from small family farmers who are working to produce heritage breeds, some of them very old and native to the US, thereby protecting diversity in the gene pool and providing us with lots of deliciousness. All animals are raised on pasture without anitbiotics or animal by-products, and farmers are Certified Humane by the Animal Welfare institute and recognized for their sustainable practices. 



Tags: eating pig

Christmas Dinner -- Hold The Death

This time of year brings all manner of helpful hints, like how to truss a turkey, or how to make your gingerbread men look like Scarlett Johansson (I made that second one up, but you know what I mean). Tips on avoiding food-borne illness are especially prevalent, as they should be -- an estimated 5,000 people in the U.S. die each year from eating something bad. It is bummer enough dying, but perish because of a tainted Christmas turkey and that is all you will ever be remembered for. Yes, it can happen to you -- but probably not if you follow these commonsense guidelines published by Consumer Reports in the January 2009 issue of ShopSmart.

1. Look at the date on the package. Although it's no guarantee the meat won't make you sick, choose a date with the most leeway.

2. Check packages for loose juice. It can be a source of bacteria. So if the meat packages are leaking, sticky, or wet, ask the butcher to cut a dry piece.

3. Triple-bag it. Put a plastic bag (get one from the produce aisle if you can't find one near the meat) over your hand and use it as a glove. Slip the bag back over the package of meat you select to prevent bacteria from contaminating you, your other groceries, or your fridge.

4. Sniff it. If meat smells off, don't buy it because it might not be fresh. (Even if it smells OK, however, that's no guarantee it's not loaded with bacteria.) And never rely on color alone since meat can be treated with carbon monoxide to make it look red and fresh.

5. Get meat ground fresh. Cuts of meat are held to a higher standard than ground. Choose cuts and have your trusted butcher grind them. The machine should be clean.

6. Look for firm fish. The flesh shouldn't have any gaps between the muscle fibers. Also sniff it; fish shouldn't smell fishy or like urine or ammonia. If you're buying whole fish, check the eyes; they should be clear, not cloudy.

7. Take along a cooler bag. Or ask to have meat and fish packed in a bag of ice so it stays cool. That will help slow the growth of bacteria.

 --Lee Klein

 

Twinkies and Milk

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Until I saw Milk yesterday, the biopic starring Sean Penn as gay activist and San Francisco city supervisor Harvey Milk, I'd forgotten all about the Twinkie Defense. Fellow supervisor Dan White shot and killed Milk and Mayor George Moscone in their offices at San Francisco City Hall in 1978 and got off with essentially a slap on the wrist: White was found guilty of manslaughter and sentenced to eight years (he ended up serving five, and committed suicide two years after he was released.) The defense argued that White was chronically depressed; they also argued, as a small aside, that his bipolar disorder wasn't helped by a steady diet of Cokes, HoHos, and DingDongs (Twinkies, apparently, were never mentioned.)
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