Remembrance of Foods Eaten

Some people recall the places they've been by the sites they've seen. With me it's by dishes eaten. 

The other day I asked James, "Remember that huevos rancheros I had in Utah?" 

It took him a moment, but then he replied "You mean at the place we stayed in Zion?" 

Yes, that would be Zion National Park, one of the most awe inspiringly beautiful places I've ever been--like, beautiful beyond words beautiful, which is a lot coming from me. 

See what I mean?

And yet, my whole experience can be boiled down to a plate of eggs, rice, beans, and salsa.

But man, it was a good plate.

Since I won't be going back to Zion anytime soon, I decided to make my own huevos rancheros:

This is not a particularly hard dish by any means, but there are a few things one must do:

1.) Pan fry your tortillas.

I'll admit, I had never fried corn tortillas in oil, preferring instead to follow the stupid instructions to 'warm' them on the back of the package. Don't do this. Fry them in a little oil until crisp. Then, while the pan is still hot, fry your eggs. Which brings us to thing you must do #2:

2.) Don't overcook your eggs. 

Seriously. Part of the deliciousness of this dish lies in the egg yolk running together with the beans and salsa and tortillas.

3.) Keep your tortillas warm while you cook your eggs.

A pretty basic tip, but one that can make all the difference. No one wants cold, soggy tortillas with their huevos. I kept mine warm in an oven set on 150. 

Now, aside from these tips, you can pretty much do whatever else you want; use store bought salsa, beans, no beans, rice, no rice--I don't care. For this dish I used salsa verde because I love it and refried black beans. Add a little cheese, sprinkle a little hot sauce and voila! Or, rather, ole!

Postcard From (Not) France: Fin

I am capping off Francophone week with a trip to Le Petite Robert, this french bistro across the street from my cousin's place in the South End. I decided to have the Chicken Coq au Vin, which is a tres traditional French dish. Normally, it's made with rooster (hence the 'coq') but since we're in America and not the French countryside, chicken is a perfectly acceptable alternative. My dining companions were amazed at how tender the chicken was, noting that it looked more like a cut of meat. I explained that when you put anything in a pot with some wine and cook it for hours on end, it'll get fall-off-the-bone tender. That's pretty much the secret to cooking: wine + pot+ meat+ hours & hours = deliciousness.

It was served with buttered noodles and some vegetables, making it a rather hearty dish--better for autumn or winter. But, my goal was to go super traditional and by God I stuck to it. We also had some delightful drinks, which are apparently very popular in France. Katie got the Monaco, which was essentially a grown-up Shirley Temple: beer, sprite, and grenadine. It sounds kind of gross, but you really couldn't taste the beer. I had a beer with peach liqueur, which was great--nice and light for summer with just a hint of peach. I intend on recreating this at home immediately. Or, well, once it becomes an appropriate drinking time....