Postcard from the Edge of a Waffle Breakfast

From Bistro friend Paul Festa's Southern film-screening tour:

Breakfast was at the Waffle House. The signage was so getto [sic!] that I was sure I had chosen a local favorite, but I wasn’t ten minutes in my cream-colored PT Cruiser (the gayest car in South Carolina and George combined!) when I saw another, and then another, and soon I realized that I had breakfasted at the iHOP of the south.

Click here to read the whole post, complete with sly Louis Prima reference.

Yuck? Scrambled Eggs and Anchovies

I used white anchovies, the kind marinated in a vinagry brine, not the salty brown slivers from the tin. This is probably cheating, because I can eat anchovies all by themselves. But I wondered if the textures of scrambled eggs and soft salty fish would mesh. They did, but I think a key is to scramble the eggs to firmness with even a bit of brown around the edges. Runny scrambled eggs and anchovies would be less appealing, though it certainly wouldn't stop me.

Don't Go Get the Butter

No matter how much Marlon insists, there are alternatives. I'm no health freak, but I can see the day coming when my doc has that discussion with me. It's like a birds-and-bees talk with your dad when you're 13, except you're 55 and your doctor is probably younger than you. And instead of sex and girls, it's about salt and saturated fats.

Here's my suggestion: instead of butter on your toast, use hummus. Instead of a bagel with cream cheese, try tahini. (Yes, even with lox. It's good!) These days, most S.F. cafes stock one or the other, so you can indulge outside the house. At the Hugo St. Cafe (no relation to the Bistro), I often opt for a bagel with hummus and tomato.

"But" -- I can see your inner child pouting already -- "what about jam? What about la confiture? You can't spread those on hummus, yuck! Morning won't be the same! Your suggestion cuts off all possibility of sweet morning comfort!" Ah, perhaps not. I'll address this later.

The only problem: hummus and tahini -- I really like the TJ's tahini, by the way -- won't help on the salt front. Just don't tell your doctor.

Breakfast Butt-rito

"We don't try to hide what these are," Haley said. "When consumers go to other fast-food places they feel like they've got to buy two of their breakfast sandwiches or burritos to fill up. This is really designed to fill you up."

June Swoon

A couple years ago fellow Bistrovian BrO turned me on to the marmalade of June Taylor. Best marmalade I've ever had, and better yet I had it all to myself, as The Fanch can't stand the stuff.

Our old friends at Chow have a video interview with June here.

More Flapjacks, Please

The Fanch reports:

It's only recently I've become a more confident flapjack flipper. For years, I felt that I couldn't really master pancakes. Too thick, too thin. Doughy and raw inside. Or leaden and one-note.

But in the past year, I've learned the trick: separating and beating the egg whites. A recipe from Alex's Aunt Dena for orange souffle ricotta pancakes turned me on to the power of whipping egg whites to loamy peaks before folding them gentle into the batter. Dina's are citrusy and light, but also creamy from the ricotta.

This weekend, we had another success with a buckwheat batter mix from Bette's Dinner in Berkeley, which also called for the egg trick. We also added blueberries to the batter for color and flavor, and topped the perfect pancakes with strawberries and peaches. Easy and delish.

Bloomingfood

Dateline: Bloomington, Ind., home of my sister the folklore grad student and her engineer fiance. A few things to report on the culinary front:

* Befitting a liberal college town smack in the middle of one of the reddest states in the union, the Saturday farmer's market had plenty of fresh greens (mustard greens, arugula, beautiful heads of lettuce, herbs), two grumpy alte kackers making kettle corn, a dairy-and-egg stand with Biblical passages on the product labels, a sign-up booth for Obama '08, and a guy selling beer bratwurst at 9 am. I went for the bratwurst (kraut, sweet peppers, French's mustard). Then I went for the BBQ chicken tamal two booths down (topped with a homemade tomatillo sauce). Then I couldn't resist a bag of cracked black walnuts ($3).

The Biblical dairy stand had a sign that read "Cow shares available." I asked the blond fresh-faced man what that meant. Selling raw milk is illegal, but if you own the cow -- or a share of the cow -- you can do whatever you want with the milk, even drink it unpasteurized, the way God intended. Clever, eh?

* The best restaurant in town, Tallent, was the site of our dinner Thursday night. Just my sister and I, we decided to share everything and, befitting our foodieness and over-education, got down to giving it all a full-court critique. The waiter realized what he was in for early on when, asking if our salt cod cakes were good, we said "Yes, but could you tell us what the herb is that gives the accompanying garnish a slight taste of anise?" (Can you guess? A hint: it wasn't fennel.) He stuttered a bit, backed up a few steps, and said he'd ask the kitchen.

When ordering main courses, I couldn't decide between the halibut with local morels and fiddleheads and the lamb platter. My sister said, well, if you've never had morels, you really should, and so I did. The waiter heard all this, but when my halibut arrived, there were no morels to be found. So....where are the morels? I asked the waiter. He mumbled something about the kitchen running out, but only having enough to use for garnish on the other dishes, and I said, geez, that was sort of the reason I ordered the dish. Which, being privy to the earlier conversation, he knew full well. He wandered away without any resolution.

A couple bites into my halibut, a waitress who seemed to have more authority came over and apologized. The kitchen had apparently forgotten to tell the wait staff about the lack of morels, perhaps true, perhaps covering our waiter's ass. She comped the halibut dish and let me order something else gratis.

I went for the steak frites (appetizer portion).

I appreciated Tallent's efforts: local and sustainable ingredients whenever possible, creative yet unpretentious twists to nearly every dish, friendly service and a wonderful warm room. But $25-to-35 entrees demand scrutiny, and if things don't add up, you've done your diners a disservice.

* If you're ever in Bloomington, eat breakfast at the Runcible Spoon.

* Today my sister is grilling in the backyard, but afterwards we'll wander a few blocks to the local winery and sample the fruit wines.

* Best meal of the weekend: tie goes to two dishes, both by my sister. 1) Shrimp and hearts-of-palm salad. 2) Baked phyllo triangles stuffed with zucchini, goat cheese and roasted pine nuts. With luck, she'll join us Bistrovians soon and grace us with her recipes.

* Answer to the fennel question: it was French tarragon.