Showing posts with label pimento cheese. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pimento cheese. Show all posts

Monday, June 18, 2012

Win a copy of 'The Truck Food Cookbook' by John T. Edge

John T. Edge will talk about his new book, The Truck Food Cookbook: 150 Recipes and Ramblings from America's Best Restaurants on Wheels, at 7 p.m. Wednesday at the Regulator Bookshop, 720 Ninth St., in Durham. The Only Burger food truck, which is featured in the book, will be selling food outside, and Fullsteam will be selling beer inside.
Want to win a copy of his new book? Comment below about your favorite food truck and register (at top right) to receive Eating My Words by email by 4 p.m. Wednesday. The winner will be selected randomly. If you attend the event you can claim it there; if not, it will be *mailed. (*Must have U.S. address if mailing is necessary.)


John T. Edge (Photos (c) Angie Moser)
Food truck culture is fairly new to Raleigh, where wrangling over local ordinances led to a popular presence and fan base developing first in Durham. But the phenomenon of stand-up dining is well established in both major U.S. cities and street corners around the globe, where it sometimes fares better and is more responsive to consumer demand than traditional brick-and-mortar establishments.

Where carts once offered little more than hot dogs and pretzels, full-outfitted truck now provide freshly-made fare that combines a globally-inspired culinary sensibility with the best of local and seasonal food stuffs. Their popularity have even inspired competitive cooking shows on TV, and Durham's popular and award-winning Only Burger was a runner-up on Food Network's The Great Food Truck Race.

Only Burger's fame is on the rise with its inclusion on The Food Truck Cookbook by John T. Edge, a food culture chronicler and one-time owner of a Dunce Dogs, a hot dog stand in Oxford, Miss, where he is director of the Southern Foodways Alliance (SFA) at the University of Mississippi.

Edge's insights and engaging writing style has earned one win and five James Beard Award nominations. He also writes the United Tastes column for the New York Times and is a frequent contributor to the Oxford American, Garden & Gun, and NPR's All Things Considered.

The book's 150 recipes serve as testament to the creative diversity on food truck operating across the country. Examples range from Morrocan Chicken Crepes and Fried Yucca with Garlic-Cilantro Sauce to Waffle Breakfast Tacos and Tamarind-Glazed Fried Chick Drummettes. 
 

North Carolina is well represented by Sweet Potato Cupcakes with Toasted Meringue by Daisycakes, also of Durham, and one of Only Burger's most popular menu options, the messy but fabulous Morning Burger.

Morning Burger by Durham's Only Burger.

Only Burger's Morning Burger
Reprinted with permission of Workman Press (c) 2012 from The Food Truck Cookbook by John T. Edge.

Makes 4 burgers.

4 hamburger buns
1 cup pimento cheese (recipe follows)
1 pound ground chuck
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
4 large eggs
8 slices Fried Green Tomatoes (recipe follows)

1. Toast the hamburger buns. Spread pimento cheese on the top and bottom halves of the buns. Set the buns aside.
2. Place the ground chuck, salt and pepper in a bowl and knead them gently with your hands until blended, Divide the meat mixture into 4 even portions and form each into a patty.
3. Heavy a heavy skillet or griddle pan over medium-high heat for 1 or 2 minutes. Place the patties in the skillet and cook for 3 to 4 minutes per side for medium-rare.
4. While the burgers are cooking, crack the eggs into a separate nonstick skillet and cook them sunny-side up over medium heat until all of the egg white are cooked but the yolks are still runny, about 3 minutes.
5. To assemble the burger, place a burger on the bottom half of each bun. Top each with a fried egg, 2 slices of Fried Green Tomato, and the top half of the bun.

Pimento Cheese
If you make the pimento cheese in advance and refrigerate it, remove it about 10 minutes before using..

1-1/2 pounds extra-sharp cheddar cheese, shredded
1 jar (4 ounce) pimentos, drained and diced
1 small serrano pepper, seeded and diced (about 1 tablespoon or more to taste)
1/3 cup mayonnaise, or more if you like a creamier consistency
1 tablespoon freshly ground pepper
1 teaspoon salt

Place the cheese, pimentos, serrano pepper, mayonnaise, black pepper and salt in a large mixing bowl and stir them together using a large spoon until a spreadable paste forms. If you are not going to use the pimento cheese immediately, place it in a an airtight container in the refrigerator. It will keep for up to 1 week.

Fried Green Tomatoes
Don't reserve these just for burgers.

2 large or medium-size firm green tomatoes
1 large egg
1 tablespoon milk
2 cups panko (Japanese bread crumbs)
1/2 teaspoon salt
3 cups canola or peanut oil, for frying

1. Cut the tomatoes into slices about 1/4 inch thick. Place the egg and milk in a small bowl and whisk until well blended. Combine the panko and salt in a separate shallow bowl or on a plate.
2. Heat the oil in a cast-iron skillet or deep sautee pan over medium-high heat until it pops loudly when a few drops or water are tossed in.
3. Dip the tomato slices into the egg mixture and then in the panko, turning to coat them all over. Being careful to not crowd the skillet, carefully add the tomato slices to the hot oil and cook, turning once, until golden brown, about 3 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the tomato slices to paper towels to drain.


Friday, May 4, 2012

Southern knishes - hold the mishegas

I thought Bruce Springsteen was talking to me in 1975 when he declared that "tramps like us, baby we were born to run." Two years later, I eagerly left New Jersey for college and adventure - not necessarily in that order - and, baby, I never looked back.

I returned many times, of course, in the years since, but only for fairly brief family visits. I not so secretly congratulated myself for making my life's accomplishments elsewhere - first Cleveland, then Indianapolis and, for the past 18 years, Raleigh.

But on those returns, and when friends and family from Up North came Down South to visit, I craved just one thing: Knishes.

I had no idea I had it so good by having access to so many Jewish delis in my childhood. The son of one of my mother's dearest friends even owned one. Mom stopped there faithfully every Saturday morning, after the ritual of having her hair set and starched. She returned home with a brown-paper bag stuffed with foods so pungently fragrant they beckoned us all to the kitchen like cartoon snake charmer.

There were kosher hot dogs, of course, tucked into steamed buns under piles of real sauerkraut. There were pastrami and corned beef sandwiches so big you could hurt your jaw trying to eat them. Dr. Brown's Cel-Ray for my dad and black cherry for me. And then there were the knishes, their leathery hides folded in foil and accompanied by small tubs of spicy brown mustard. Yes, please.

Traditional NY deli-style knish (@mizchef)
The nirvana of memory was never really matched in following years by freezer-case options or soulless pretenders sold to the unfortunates who simply didn't know any better. My brother David made a good faith effort to replenish my stock on a visit, only to realize at the airport that he'd left the precious cargo at home.

I made knishes once from a boxed mix, but there was no magic in that Manischewitz powder. I finally decided to try making them from scratch last year as a Hanukkah experiment. I'm just now facing my fear of yeast and pie crust, so the idea of making, resting and rolling out dough was intimidating. It took more time and effort than I expected, but the results were batamt - which sounds a little like Yiddish for "the bomb." In any language, they were delicious.

The yield was not quite like the ones I once savored, but their pedigree links directly to Arthur Schwartz, a bona fide knishmeister and self-titled "Food Maven." The crust is lighter but appealingly toothsome, and the potato-onion filling is eminently tweakable to incorporate leftovers or a creative urge.

Which brings me to the "fusion" challenge of this month's #LetsLunch posting, which today features personalized takes of cross-cultural cuisine by distinguished chefs, food writers and food lovers across the globe. The inspired theme comes from the just-published Cowgirl Chef: Texas Cooking with a French Accent (Running Press) by Ellise Pierce, a #LetsLunch founder.

It was important to me that my debut feature a recipe that boasted big flavor and reputable culinary chops. So to place Schwartz's New York deli-style knish firmly in a Southern terroir, I looked no further than Virginia Willis. This goddess of Southern goodness has a fine recipe for pimento cheese, and its vibrant color was just the thing to light the fusion fuse for this project.

So, nu? Go makes some knishes. Or, as my mother would have said, "What are you waiting for, an engraved invitation?"


Knish Dough and Potato Filling
I followed Schwartz's directions closely to prepare the dough and filling. Allow plenty of time for the onions to slowly caramelize and attain maximum sweetness. I made narrow strips of dough as directed on my first try, which produced adorable bite-size knishes perfect for entertaining. For this batch, I divided the dough into thirds. Next time, I'm just going halve it for what I consider traditional-sized knishes.


Pimento Cheese
Everyone in the South has a secret recipe for pimento cheese, but Virginia Willis' version is hard to beat. Do not use packaged shredded cheese, which is treated to minimize clumping. Creamy results are guaranteed only if you shred it yourself. Can you save some time (and knuckle skin) by putting the cheese in the freezer for about 15 minutes and using the shred setting of a food processor.

I used a a plump local spring onion instead of a Vidalia, a good splash of Louisiana Hot Sauce and a bit more mayo than called for. If you don't make your own and want extra points for going uber-Southern, use Duke's brand mayonnaise. Pimento cheese is best made in advance and chilled in the fridge for a few hours to allow flavors to fully meld.

Assembly and baking
Schwartz's recipe describes open-top knishes as "traditional," though I never saw one during my peak knish consumption years. My idea of traditional is squared and sealed, but I decided to give his version a try since I hoped it would create a somewhat volcanic result with oozing pimento cheese lava.

I was not disappointed. Indeed, a friend who admired the top photo said it looked like what he'd expect to find at the end of the rainbow. What a mensch.

I used the last strip of dough to make closed knishes - more rectangular than square, but more like memory than not. Whichever style you prefer, be sure to brush the dough with some egg wash to fortify the structure and give it a handsome finish.

Try to let them cool a bit before diving in or you'll risking having molten cheese burn the roof of your mouth. I enjoy knishes drizzled with a little mustard - Gulden's Zesty Honey Mustard is a guilty pleasure - but they're also great straight.