It all started with my yogi ripping out her kitchen while we were brainstorming how to feed her family for a few weeks. She said she had a "guy in the neighborhood" who was some kind of chicken -magician; he'd cook you a chicken dinner that you could pick up for $25. Neighborhood chicken enchantment? Sign me up. I called the guy for a Monday pickup.

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What do you say when your buddy says, “Hey, I’ve got a pig head, what should we make?” Well, guanciale was the first thing that came to mind, but the cheeks and jowls from this little pig won’t yield enough to make two chefs happy. Then there is tete pressee (pressed head), but I don’t really hanker for that generally chewy and gelatinous creation that comes with that preparation.

 

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Earlier this week, I drove down to Chicago for a little college road trip with the next-in-line kid. We ate at Quartino, which is like an casual small plates Italian cafe. Easy-eating pizza, small pastas, and risottos, a few carpaccios, it was nice. The best part was ordering from the salumi list which was laid on our table. Like a dim sum checklist, we marked what we wanted and soon, elevated in the center of our table, was a melange of tasty cheeses, cured meats, marinated veg, and things of this ilk: a small yet captivating table picnic that I can't get out of my mind. The bresaola had strong notes, despite its papery existence, one of the cheeses was so buttery I think my kid thought it was. So this Fresh Forkin' Friday has me plotting my afterwork course to Surdyk's, France 44, Seward, Cheese Market, and Buon Giorno Italia to see if I can't compile a worthy replica.

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This weekend we open the farmhouse with high hopes for the coming season, anticipating the new crops we are starting this year and the crops that are tried-and-true. One of the new perennial crops coming off our farm this year will be hops: Cascades, Willamettes, and Hallertaus. For me, this winter seemed relentless and unduly long, so to pass some time, I decided to take up home brewing.

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Spring kicked off this Fresh Forkin' Friday at precisely 6:44 a.m. Yes, today is the vernal equinox my friends. What does that mean? Well, the center of the sun has passed over the equator. It has risen due east and will set due west, and the hours of light will be roughly the same as the hours of dark. Northerners (especially our Swedanifinegian relatives) are truly welcoming of this day as it marks the end of the darkness and a return to light, so why not lift a glass of aquavit to the setting sun in their honor. And you're also supposed to eat eggs and seeds and stuff.

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For a friend’s birthday party a few weeks ago, the theme was 1968. It was a potluck, and I decided to do a childhood favorite . . . clam dip. As I unveiled the dip, I was surprised at the polarization of opinion regarding this once-ubiquitous cocktail party dish. Virtually half the party goers loved it for its nostalgia, and the other half of them had vehement malignant vocalizations.

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Well hello, Salty Dog. 

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Spring. What to Eat?

While the cult of locavore continues to sweep the country, those of us in Minnesota have hit bottom in terms of local produce. Most of the local root vegetables and cabbages that were cellared are gone. So, while we wait for our local vegetable bounty to pop, we still have to eat. Asparagus, once the harbinger of spring, is in full season.

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Tomorrow marks the end of the road for Fugaise. Kate, Beth, and I found our way there for one last meal this week, and it was great. The windowless room was a refuge from the snownami outside, and we were focused on solving the world's problems as we shared some perfectly seared scallops, wonderfully rich kangaroo, and an elegant and clean panna cotta. Before we knew it, we had been at the table for four hours. On this bittersweet Fresh Forkin' Friday, I'm wondering how long it will be before we see another restaurant of this caliber open up.

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The last few weeks, I cannot help feeling that there has been a major shift in the restaurant community, particularly in the service department. As a rule, I tend to keep my service expectations in check so as to not be let down when I got mediocre or workman-like service. I have been very pleasantly surprised with the level of service in every restaurant in which I have dined.

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It's Fresh Forkin' Friday, and I don't know about you, but I've had some spectacular food for cheap this week. One memorable night at Solera, we left the table unable to pick a singular favorite bite. (Was it the pumpkin seed romesco with the crispy squash? The smoked salmon with white asparagus? The sobrasada drizzled with membrillo honey?) We've heard reports of packed restaurants and happy diners, so we're counting this one as a win-win. If you happened to miss out on the awesomeness of Restaurant Week, you still have a chance to reap the rewards. A few places have decided to carry the RW menu and deal through the end of the month: D'Amico Cucina, Masa, Campiello, Cafe Lurcat, and La Belle Vie. Wouldn't it be great if a couple more jumped on board?

 

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After discussing blog topics with friends, it was decided that I needed to write about fish. I write reluctantly because most of those I know who observe Lent don’t actually cook their own fish, they are generally going to restaurants or fast-food places to get Friday’s mandated fix of fish. To me, battered and fried fish is just not on my daily radar. I do, however, come from a long line (pun intended) of fish 'n' chips die-hards.

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Last week, for some reason, the stars aligned, and I got to eat two of the best gyros/ shawarma sandwiches from two very different establishments. The gyros I had are arguably the best in town for very different reasons. 

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