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Why is a jalapeño hot?  Why is a habanero hotter than a jalapeño?  What are these scovilles that Loren and Arthur keep taking about?

The magic of heat comes from capsaicin, the chemical compound in chilies that makes them hot.  This stuff creates actual burning.  It’s not a flavor (like sweet or sour) but an irritation of the skin.  If you took pure capsaicin and left it on your skin, not only would it hurt like hell, but it would cause blistering after 30 seconds or so.

Plants evolved capsaicin to deter us mammals from eating certain plants.  More particularly, to stop us chomping down on plant seeds and making them unable to germinate.  Unlike mammals, birds aren’t irritated by capsaicin.  Not so coincidental, birds also don’t smash seeds when they eat them–leaving the seeds able to germinate when they later poop them out.  The evolutionary pressures for developing hotness is clear.

Some chilies have become atomic, while others have a light burn.  We measure heat on the scoville scale.  A nice jalapeño comes in between 1,500 and 8,000 scovilles, a good habanero clocks in at about 250,000, and the insane ghost pepper comes in around a 1,000,000.  Pure capsaicin destroys mind and body with 16,000,000 scovilles.

Enjoy the burn!

At a recent poker night, a friend brought over something new for a mixer.  Based on it’s appearance, I expect something sweet and fruity.  I was shocked by my first sip. Rather than a simple sweet juice, I was smashed with a wave of decadent spices: cloves, nutmeg, cinnamon, and some other bold flavors I couldn’t identify. It tasted like a cool mulled wine.  It tasted like a Christmas.

While it does scream scream celebration, it might be a bit much as a mixer for me.  I’m thinking that this Caribbean specialty might be great boiled down as a glaze for a ham.

If you’re not on Twitter, here is your reason to finally take the plunge: @PaulaOnTrial.  (No mom, this is about Paula Deen not you!)

Recent gem tweets include:

• Recipe of the Day: Paula’s Buttercream Pie. Fill homemade pie crust w/ one tub Country Crock Churn Style spread. Top w/ Cool Whip & serve.
• I’m not racist, I love pandas and they’re black, white and asian. They also make a great appetizer.
• Good Morning Vietnam…I mean Savannah. Damn it, I am still drunk. Were are my percocets?
• If it pleases the court, the only ‘N-Word’ I have ever used is ‘Nachos’.

Today is my father Curt’s birthday. That may not seem germane to a food website, but my old man taught me almost everything I know about cooking. How to grill a steak, make a

Definitely dad's natural element: cooking AND camping!

tomato sauce, griddle a pancake, make gravy, you name it.  Dad was a master improviser; I’ve never seen anyone else who can just stare at a pantry for a minute or two, then know instantly what he was going to do with what was on hand. Got a couple of pheasants which have been in the freezer for several years, maybe some egg noodles and half a carton of sour cream? BOOM! You’ve got pheasant stroganoff. I’m still trying to refine that skill (and that recipe).

Dad could also teach life lessons through cooking. One of the great lessons of cooking is, of course, patience.  A few hours can turn country ribs from tough and gristly to juicy and sumptuous, and similarly waiting to stir or turn meat while searing it will build up a beautiful and flavorful crust.  One day in particular, this lesson was definitely impressed on me. We had spent the afternoon pruning the apple trees by the garden, and we used those applewood tree trimmings to barbeque snd smoke a few pounds of venison chops in the weber grill. I. of course, wanted to take them off after 20 minutes because the smell was driving me insane. Dad insisted we wait, and when we finally took them off the grill about 3 hours (and about 10 layers of maple-chipotle glaze later)they were falling off the bone and insanely delicious.

As a bit of background, my parents divorced when I was about 3. For as long back as I can remember, I only had two weekends a month with my father. When you only get to see your dad for 4 days a month, every moment really becomes precious. So when it was time to cook dinner, I wanted to help my dad instead of watching TV or playing with the dogs. Whether it was a once in a lifetime meal or just something whipped up at the last minute, that was still quality time that I got to spend one on one with my old man and I wouldn’t trade those nights in the kitchen for anything in the world.

As you may have guessed from the usage of the past tense, my old man is no longer around. I lost him to a car accident when I was in high school. I don’t have a ton of material things to remember him by. I’ve got the shotgun he gave me for Christmas one year, one of his old hunting knives and his dogtags from the Navy. But that’s OK, because he gave me this incredible gift before he left – he taught me to cook, to love cooking and to put love in cooking. I knew friends in college who made it to their mid 20’s without being able to make anything that didn’t come in a box with explicit instructions (my apologies if any of you are reading this now, but I’m pretty sure I already made fun of you for this to your face anyways). While they seem to be getting along fine, I’m not sure how.  I just don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t cook as well as I can. My absolute favorite thing to do is cook for my friends and family.  It gives me great joy to spend a few hours crafting something really incredible and then give that dish to the people close to me for them to enjoy.

So on this day, what would have been Curt’s 57th birthday, I want to say thank you Dad. Though we didn’t have anywhere near enough time together, the amount of skills and knowledge and character you passed on to me by the time I turned 17 speaks to how incredible you were as a father and a role model. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about you, especially when in the kitchen, and I am undoubtedly a better man today because of our time together.

Cooking was actually second to engine repair for my dad, both in terms of his interest and ability.

Yesterday, Iggy returned from a long weekend in North Carolina bearing pimento cheese and pound cake.

I had first heard about pimento cheese from Jane and Michael Stern‘s Road Food segment on the Splendid Table (wow, that’s a mouthful).  After hearing about the stuff, I was curious and wondered how to get my hands on what I learned was a one those rare remaining regional (Southern) creations.  So I was excited to finally give it a try.

So what is pimento cheese?  At its most basic, it’s cheddar cheese, mayonnaise, pimentos (yeah, those red flecks from olives),and  salt & pepper, but additional ingredients can pop-up.  The mixture can be either blended to a smooth paste or choppily mixed together.

The mixture Iggy brought back was chipotle pimento cheese,  with a little bit of heat added to basic ingredient outline and was on the coarse side of the mixing style.  Keeping it simple, and classy, we ate this new fair onto some Ritz crackers.  And the Ritz cracker were prefect–their crispy butteriness amplified decadent fat going on in the cheese (we also tried it on some of fancy, and neutral,  little cheese toasts to get a baseline).

Now that I’ve had it I want more.  While part of me is ready to organize a second War of Northern Aggression to get my hands on the stuff, I might just settle for making it at home.  If I can get my hands on pimento and a decent recipe, it seems easy enough.  I just keep wondering what else I could do with this cheese.  Grilled cheese?  Burger toppings?  Deep frying?!  If I pull of any of this, I’ll be sure to post!

Sixpoint is one of those breweries that my roomie Nick and I trust implicitly.  If I see a new brew of their’s I have to try it, knowing I’ll probably like, if not love, what I drink.  So it shouldn’t be a surprise that early in the week both Nick and I showed up at home, on the same day, having interdependently stopped by a bodega, seen Resin (the new Sixpoint brew, which neither of us had heard about), and brought it home.

The Details:

It’s an American Double/Imperial IPA with a 9.10% ABV and IBU of 103.  Serving type: can.

[As an aside, the following link is a GREAT visual depiction of the relationship between different kinds of beer:  http://popchartlab.com/collections/prints/products/the-very-very-many-varieties-of-beer.  WARNING:  before you click be prepared to spend 30-45 minutes looking at the graphic.  I’m seriously thinking about buying the poster, framing it, and putting up in my kitchen… or my office.  Okay, on with the Resin talk.]

Appearance:  When first poured, it has cloudy copper color.  But, if you can managed to hold off on drinking it all for 20 minutes or so, the cloud clears to a clear amber rust.

Smell:  Hops and yeast.  I have a bit of a cold at the moment, so there might more hiding in there.

Mouth:  Very hoppy, but very well balanced.  There is some up front hoppy-sweetness that fades to a nice roasted hoppy finish.  When I say finish, I mean finish–the stuff coats your mouth (almost like resin?) with long lingering flavor of hops that makes you want another sip.  The texture is a high octane mix between crisp hops playing/battling with thick.

Overall:  I’m a big fan.  It’s strong and hoppy, no doubt, but somehow also balanced enough for easy drinking.  I think it would pair great with any meats coming off the grill.  There is not a lot of complexity, particularly compared to Sixpoint’s Sweet Action; Resin is just a great beer.  It’s been a while since I’ve gotten excited about an IPA and  I’m very glad Sixpoint came along with Resign just in time for summer!

IT’S SUPERBOWL!!!!!!!! This is like the 4th of July, Thanksgiving, and your first frat party all rolled into one. Throughout my whole life, this weekend has always been an epic party. When I was a kid my dad would take me to one of his friend’s houses out in the boonies and all the guys would stand around the deep fryer in the garage, watching crispy and golden delicious chunks of deep fried pheasant, grouse, walleye, and chicken-fried venison cutlets emerge from the bubbling witches cauldron of peanut oil while the game played on a projection TV. Side note: is there any better way to enjoy nature than deep frying critters?

But without a doubt, my favorite SB parties were in college. You get 15-20 guys together in a house, along with 15-20 cases of beer, and play beer pong and NFL Blitz for hours before the game even starts. And once the game does start, everyone picks a side and cheers for them as though they were your hometown team. Notice how I precluded the possibility of the actual home town team getting into the Superbowl, for we reside in the tundra – land of the Vikings.

So for this holiest of all weeks, we’re going with a trinity of appetizers: beer cheese dip, polpetini (tiny meatballs), and  a shrimp cocktail with honey chipotle cocktail sauce.

The beer cheese dip we’ve done before, here. Except this time I’m going to replace 25% of the cream cheese with sour cream.

The polpetini will be made roughly from:

• 1lb ground beef
• 1 lb ground pork, veal or mild italian sausage
• 4-6 cloves of garlic, minced
• 3/4 cup chopped parsley
• 1 cup grated Parmesan
• 1 shallot, minced
• ½ cup breadcrumbs
• 1 large egg, beaten
• 3 tablespoons dry red wine (optional)
• 3 tablespoons tomato paste
• 2 teaspoon salt
• 1 teaspoon black pepper
• 1 teaspoon dried oregano

This is a slightly modified version of the Joy of Cooking recipe which has been previously posted. This time we’re going to roll it into smaller meatballs, about 3/4 of an inch in diameter. Then lightly coat them in either seasoned flour or breadcrumbs and fry them in a pan with just enough oil to coat the bottom. A minute or two each side should do, just long enough to get some good color. Then they go in the oven at 300 degrees, until a meat thermometer says they’re about 140 degrees inside. Take them out and let them cool a bit, then put them on a toothpick with a cherry tomato, small mozzarella ball and a leaf of basil. You can either roll the basil into a tight roll and skewer that, or kind of weave it over the meat, cheese and basil on the toothpick.

These are pretty good at this stage, but you can make them even better. Mix extra virgin olive with aged balsamic vinegar (which I happen to have laying around because my brother Danny knows EXACTLY what to get me for Christmas) at a ratio of about 3:2. Whisk this together and add it to a jar with a lid, then shake it up. Drizzle that over the tasty skewers, then top everything with kosher salt and fresh cracked pepper.

Now its time for the brand new recipe which I found on one of my favorite foodblogs, The Food in My Beard. Now, I love shrimp cocktails but my undying hatred of horseradish prevents me from enjoying the typical condiment associated with them. That makes this recipe perfect for me.

• 1 7 oz can of chipotles in adobo
• ¼ cup sour cream
• 2 tablespoons of honey
• 2 limes
• 1-2 cloves garlic, roughly chopped
• cilantro

Take the peppers out of the can, split them open and remove all of the seeds. Add the peppers to a food processor along with the adobo sauce left in the can, the juice of both limes, the honey and the garlic. Process that until smooth, then add a few tablespoons of the cilantro leaves, and pulse a few more times. Once you put it in the serving bowl, you can garnish with a few more cilantro leaves. Serve with delicious shrimps. I’ll be buying mine frozen from the grocery store, because boiling my own would be just a bit too much work combined with everything else.

These look amazing... except for that red crap in the bowl.

FOOTBALL SECTION

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Dedicated readers (or maybe just the authors) will remember that at the beginning of the football season, I made 6 predictions for the 2011-12 NFL season. Let’s see how hard this NFL commentary business is:

• Barring injury, Adrian Peterson will rush for 2,000 yards this year. While we don’t have the greatest O-line Minnesota has ever seen, the reports are that we have abandoned the zone-blocking crap which plagued us in the Childress era.
• Outcome: Well this one obviously failed to come true, and I won’t even hide behind the hideous knee injury which ended AP’season and maybe permanently dimmed the prospects of his career. He wasn’t really close to the pace of a 2,000 yard season. 0 for 1.
• As an aside, I am terrified about AP’s prospects for a comeback. He tore his ACL AND MCL. If you didn’t have a chance to see what happened in that game, check this out. Warning: you will feel his pain after watching that clip. Adrian is the most amazing running back I’ve ever watched. Pretty much half a dozen times every season I see him do something so amazing that I thank Odin that he somehow fell to the Vikings in the draft. And it seems like better than even odds that he won’t be anything special when he makes it back onto the football field.
• The Colts will be in contention for the first overall draft pick by the end of the season. This team is GARBAGE without Manning. He ran the whole offense and he elevated a team that has drafted crap the last several years. (Sub-prediction: this will create endless ESPN contaversy about whether Peyton will allow them to draft Andrew Luck)
• Outcome: NAILED IT ON BOTH COUNTS! Full disclosure – all of these predictions were written after the pre-season so there was already a hint of how god-awful the Colts were going to be, but that’s not going to stop me from claiming credit for this one. Seeing as how both prediction and sub-prediction came true, I’m 2 for 3.
• The Houston Texans will finally make the playoffs. I mean, they kind of have to. Jacksonville and Indianapolis will be terrible, and I just don’t think the Hasselbeck-led Titans will steal the division away from them.
• Outcome: Also correct. It’s intriguing to think about what would have become of this team if they hadn’t lost Mario Williams, Matt Schaub and Andre Johnson for most of the season. Think about that! That’s arguably your best player on both offense and defense plus your starting quarterback, and they still won a playoff game. If the injuries had shaken out a different way, the Texans probably could have made the Superbowl. 3 for 4.
• The Lions will still fail to hit the .500 mark. I know everyone is in love with them and they have certainly created a monster d-line, but Stafford is made of porceline and I still think they need another season to wipe out the stink of 0-16.
• Outcome: Ouch, and I fall to 3 for 5. The Lions exceeded the .500 mark, made the playoffs and Stafford made it through the season without missing any appreciable amount of time. This team has lots of potential with an improving Stafford, Megatron hitting his prime and a solid core of Suh and Fairley on the D-line. They just desperately need a running back to make it through the season.
• Lastly, the GB Packers will fail to make the Superbowl this year. Because they’re evil. Superbowl pick: New England over Philly.
• Outcome: Ahhhh this is the sweetest one to get right. A Rodge was getting just a bit too cocky, and I’m glad the Giants came along to serve some humble pie. And that makes me 4 for 6. OVER .500 THANK YOU VERY MUCH.

Please... no more of this.

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There is something about me that my close friends know.  Some days they are understanding–other days they openly judge me.  This revelation might surprise a casual reader of this blog.  (To my great surprise I’ve learned that it’s not just my mom who reads this thing.)  But I think it’s time for me to stand and announce my self to world.

My name is Arthur, and I like Taco Bell.

There it is.  I’ve said it out loud… in print or electrons.  It feels  good to admit openly.  And you know what?  I’m not ashamed.  My name is Arthur, and I like Taco Bell.  Though maybe I need to explain my self.

First, I don’t think that it’s great food; it’s the culinary equivalent to Katy Perry.   But, confession number two, I like Katy Perry.

Taco Bell is just a mix of carbs, salt, fat, with some onions and, whenever in my hands, a generous coating of hot sauce.  All the things humans are biologically programmed to crave.  I just can’t understand those who refuse to eat there with me.

Some whine about the health of fast food.  But if you don’t order the mega-lunch box and keep the number of items ordered under control it’s actually not that bad for you.  Take my standard lunch order of one five layer burrito.  It clocks in with 540 calories.  Less than most half a sandwich and soup combos at Hale and Hearty or approximately the same as Pret a Manger‘s ham and cheese sandwich.  The sodium in this fake Mexican treat is on the high end at 1280 mg, just over 50 percent of what you should have in a day.  So I skip the afternoon can of V8 that packs 25 percent of you daily sodium.  Sure, maybe I shouldn’t eat at the Bell every day, and I don’t, not any more, but even if I did I could do it right. (Confession number three: in my younger years I would regularly order and eat over $10 worth of Taco Bell for lunch.)

And have I mentioned that Taco Bell is cheap?  That five layer burrito is only $1.89 in New York, a steal compared to any other lunch around.  Great for the poor law student.

So you can call Taco Bell cheap, uneatable, fake food.  I’ll proudly call it lunch.

Wuzzup y’all! Arthur saying there’s a party all up in here and you need to get with the flow… Oh yeah!!! Ardbeg Supernova’s got the heavy weight power when you got tha eods to rip it up to some fat bootie beast… or just chill with the honies… so get on the rocket and see the stars… Ardbeg Supernova… DAMN!!!

It’s crezappy!!!

I thought about giving the number eight spot to Sake Bar Hagi.  But, while the post describing this amazingly fun dining spot appeared 2011, my actual first trip was in 2010.

I’m shocked myself to see a brunch spot in the top 10, but after mulling it over for a few days I couldn’t pull Perch Cafe out.  The brunch fills me with all the joy and comfort I would expect from this early afternoon meal.  On several  trips since my first visit, I’ve sampled more and more of the menu and have yet to be disappointed (except maybe by the wrap, which is just too healthy for me). But more than the food, the great servers have me developing an irrational attachment.  The servers are the prefect blend of surly and friendly–willing to stop and chat (or give me shit for not taking down the last bit of cheesy grits).  I always leave satiated and with a brightened day.  As long as I’m in Park Slope, Perch Cafe has a solid spot in my brunch rotation.

Perch also offers up a dinner menu that I’m excited to sample in the New Year courtesy of a living social deal.