Chiu on This

Stuff on top of stuff

I failed to post something last week because a miserable ailment had just started taking over my head and neck while I was visiting friends in Pittsburgh. After a six-hour visit to the fantastic Fallingwater, I realized that what felt like an irritation in the back of my throat that morning while taking the plane ride to Pittsburgh had blown up into an awful stabbing feeling when I swallowed. Aw, crap. How was I going to have a pierogi on kielbasa sandwich for dinner if my throat wasn't functioning? Never mind that an oncoming fever was making my earlobes feel like hot coals.

I've been harboring an interest in Pittsburgh's food-on-top-of-food sandwiches since, oh, 2007. My friends Claire and Seth were good enough not only to host my weekend visit and drive me all the way out to Fallingwater but also, knowing my food interests, to take me to Primanti Brothers for their famous cole-slaw-and-fries-on-top-of-various-meats-sandwiches. We went to their original location in the Strip District, where I got to see impressive amounts of paraphernalia and tchotchkes devoted to Pittsburgh's sports franchises being sold nearby, as well as the awesome murals inside Primanti's devoted to local heroes, including Mr. Rogers, whom I admire deeply (in a totally non-ironic way).

I ordered the hot sausage and cheese sandwich, Seth got the kolbassi and cheese, and Claire got the bacon and cheese (and egg?). The sandwiches are pretty enormous and come out wrapped in wax paper, no bothering with plates here. The bread is thick cut white bread which has zero flavor and seems there mostly as a means for holding the sandwiches' innards intact; Seth's recommendation to hold the sandwich so that the bread slices are perpendicular to the table surface works, because the bread has no strength to support the weight of all the ingredients.

Overall, I found the sandwich sadly disappointing. The bread had no flavor, the cheese had no flavor or simply didn't exist, and the fries - what I thought would make this sandwich divine - had no flavor either. Of the steak fries variety of cut, they weren't crispy on the outside, which would have provided textural contrast, and added nothing but heft and driness. The cole slaw, on the other hand, was surprisingly good - crisp, of the vinegary (not mayo) variety, which worked for this sandwich, and speckled with lots of black pepper. I would have been happy eating the hot Italian sausage with just a side of the cole slaw, which means that this sandwich, while conceptually brilliant, failed for me in its execution. But, maybe I'll give it one more try (I'll be back in Pittsburgh for work) and go for the kolbassi version.

Back to a chronological order of events: Primanti's for lunch, a 2 hour drive to Fallingwater in the Bear Run Nature Reserve, a 2 hour tour, a 2 hour drive back, then dinner at the Penn Brewery, where my failing health makes it hard for me to enjoy my kielbasa and sauerkraut, but does not prevent me from judging that their pierogies, while nice, are not the best the city has to offer. I'm in bed by 9 with what feels like a raging fever, and get out of bed at 11 the next morning feeling, huh, not too bad.

If I have not mentioned what lovely hosts Claire and Seth are, here are two other examples: 1) they make waffles for brunch (after waiting for me to haul my ass out of bed) and let me drink all their OJ, and 2) knowing my food interests, they suggest that we can pick up a late lunch at Station Street Hot Dogs. I am intrigued by the Devil Dog, which I don't think I can get back home, where I'm pretty sure I can get a kim chee dog.

The Devil Dog has egg salad, Tabasco, scallions, and potato chips on top of an all-beef dog. I love a good devilled egg, and this sounds like a great picnic basket of ingredients that got smashed up in an accident. So Claire takes me to Station Street after we run errands at the nearby Target; she tells me about the changes in the neighborhood and points out Google's nearby office* as we wait for our orders of dogs and duck fat fries. We're the only ones there at 2pm-ish, but Claire tells me this place can get pretty overrun.

Verdict on the Devil Dog: thumbs up. I should have realized, though, that the potato chips, like the duck fat fries, would have lost a bit of their crisp on the ride back, sealed up and steaming in the take out sack. Lacking the potato chip crunch, though, hasn't really harmed the dog. The egg salad's good, although I would have added more hot sauce, and the hot dog itself is very flavorful. Excellent combo - next time I would just add that extra hot sauce and maybe, just maybe, a little sprinkling of celery seed. As for duck fat fries, am I right in thinking that they're overrated? Maybe I just prefer lard.

Maybe I should have put those fries on top of the hot dog.

* I find out later that a friend from my urban planning days was at that very same moment in the Google building hearing about Pittsburgh's revitalization. I had posted to Twitter via Foursquare that I was at Station Street; he saw that and responded that he was in Pittsburgh, too. Interesting.

Stumbling across Schnipper's

It's been raining for what seems like forever in NYC. On Thursday, I woke up with a pounding headache and even less energy than usual (which is saying a lot). I blamed the barometric pressure for making me feel like my eyes were caving into my head, and I wanted nothing more than to stay inside and out of the rain. But I had to head into Manhattan for a workshop and awards ceremony on Excellence in Nonprofit Management held by the New York Times Foundation. My organization was one among six finalists, and I'd planned on attending the session and experimenting with Twitter to send info back to the home office on the proceedings and, naturally, on who'd won what.

Feeling like crap and not having had anything to eat, I wasn't quite looking forward to the 3.5 hour event. Lucky for me, though, I stumbled across Schnipper's Quality Kitchen, right next to the Times Center where the event was being held (and on the same block as the Muji flaghsip store - eep!). With fifteen minutes to spare, I eyeballed the menu. I very much wanted the sloppy dog -  a hot dog topped w/ sloppy joe, cheese, and green onions, but decided against it, knowing that "sloppy" could very easily be applied to my appearance if I tried to down this puppy too quickly.  Instead, I opted for the green chile cheese dog. This wasn't quite a rational alternative, since any form of "cheese" modifying "hot dog" usually implies an utter mess that could be as bad as a sloppy dog or chili dog.  Maybe my quick-as-lightning subconscious decision making process was steering me away from a disastrous red sloppy joe stain towards a more color-coordinated green chile stain. Nah - most likely I was thinking, "Hmm, I haven't had green chile in a long while. I wonder how spicy it'll be?" At any rate, that's what I ordered.

The clock was ticking away as I stood around waiting for my order. The cashier handed me one of those electronic buzzers that would indicate when my food was ready.  Is this place really that popular? I wondered. I'd never even heard of it. But the location - 8th and 41st - must drive a lot people in here, even though the prices were somewhat steep: my dog plus a diet coke amounted to $8.50. If I thought those prices were high, why did I misinform the employee doing a survey of waiting customers that I typically pay $10 to $12 for lunch?  (I never pay that much if I can help it.) I couldn't answer her question about what I considered Schnipper's competitors, since this was only my first time there, but I speculated - Johnny Rockets to go? An upscale In-and-Out burger? Five Guys with an extended menu? Shake Shack??? (It hits me afterwards - Taylor's Refresher in San Francisco.)

The buzzer goes off. I was getting worried - fifteen minutes had gone down to eight minutes. I would have snarf this dog down fast. But if this thing had just been cooked up, then why was half of the bun cold? I grumbled to myself. I struggled a bit trying to pick up said dog, which was heavy and dripping with toppings - unidentified cheese product, somewhat airy yet gooey; roasted poblanos; and pico de gallo. About a fifth of the toppings slid off before I even got it near my mouth (next time, get a fork). My grousing came to an end with my first bite. A bizarre thought came to me as I savored the taste combination: I think I've just found a good substitute for the Chicago hot dog, which no joint in NYC can make make properly. Even though the resemblance to the Chicago dog is miniscule - bun, check; hot dog, check; tomatoes, check; a little bit of spicy-hot, check; near impossibility of eating without making a mess, check - something about the green chile cheese dog hit the right spot in terms of both complexity and harmony of flavors. Smoky + savory + piquant = yummy and craveworthy.

I will need to go back and "test" this dog out again, just to make sure that my hunger wasn't clouding my judgment, and also to try out the other items on the menu. Burgers, fish tacos, milkshakes, combos of sloppy joes and mac-and-cheese: good ol' American comfort food. It might even help take the edge off this ridiculous weather.

(Oh, and about the competition - we won a Special Mention for Excellence in Management award, but not the overall prize.  That would have been nice, but no biggie - the top winner is an excellent organization!)

Ignore the image

I decided a few weeks ago that, if I was going to trek into the office on the weekend, I may as well treat myself by having lunch at a new-to-me eatery beforehand.  So after running errands around Union Square (and happily bumping into former colleague Emily, whom I hadn't seen in person in years), I headed to Dogmatic, a high-end hot dog joint formerly occupied by the sausage emporium Mandler's.  "High-end hot dog joint" may not be what Dogmatic would like to be known as; "Gourmet Sausage System" is more like it. 

I would not have guessed that within a span of three weeks and about 5,000 miles that I would be eating my second vertically oriented hot dog in a hollowed out bun.  I suppose that synchronicity applies also to foodstuffs and eating patterns.  But while the Puka Dog I had in Honolulu was a great big love-fest of Polish hot dog and a cacophany of sauces, it made sense that the Manhattan Dogmatic would be something other, i.e., a sausage from a sustainable farm, with no hormones, nitrates, etc., etc., and that the "bun" would actually be artisinal bread, and that the storefront would be a glossy, highly designed space with custom-made furniture.

No matter.  Ignore the image they're trying to project (were they trying to escape Dogmatic's streetcart roots?).  What about the flavor?  Quite good, actually.  I ordered a beef sausage with cheddar jalapeno sauce and a homemade ginger soda.  (Thankfully, in the caloric sense, they don't serve fries, only tortilla chips, which I easily passed.)  The beef was grass-fed, making for a slightly dessicated, jerky-like sausage, but the hearty texture worked perfectly with the crispy and toothsome bread.  The cheddar jalapeno sauce lacked the spiciness that comes when you advertise jalapeno as an ingredient, but the overall flavor, richness, and proportion of sauce to bread brought the whole package together.  While the sausage-to-bread alignment wasn't quite as generous as pictured above, the density of the elements left me feeling full enough, although as a glutton I could easily have gone for another.  Thumbs up also to the refreshing ginger soda, which supplied the bite that the cheddar jalapeno sauce did not; however, the menu should list vanilla bean as one of the ingredients so that customers won't have to ask - and staff won't have to bother answering - what the myriad black specks floating like cigarette ash in the soda really are.

While prices at Dogmatic are on the high side ($4.50 for my hot dog combo, $2.50 for the drink), consider that even Gray's Papaya is jacking up the prices on their recession special.  I will probably stop again at Dogmatic to try their other sausages (lamb, pork, chicken, turkey, and asparagus spears) and sauces and will add some comments here.

Puka Dog

"Puka" in Hawaiian means hole, and Puka Dog improves on the pig-in-a-blanket concept by digging a hole almost all the way through the bun to accomodate a Polish sausage while leaving room for sauces and condiments to accumulate.

This makes a Puka Dog nearly perfect for mess-free one-handed eating (hint: hold the dog vertically, as if you were eating a popsicle, rather than perpendicular to your mouth as with a traditional hot dog), not that I tested it out by doing anything extreme like surfing or skateboarding, but I did walk around the International Marketplace in Honolulu with my folks with the Puka Dog in one hand and one of their touted lemonades (only so-so) in another without spilling or leaking any condiments, which would have produced a bright yellow nightmare of stains.  (Wow, gotta love that run-on sentence.)

Apart from the convenience and ingenuity of the Puka Dog, the Polish sausage was tasty and meaty, but the bun and sauces could have used...something.  The bun was sturdy enough not to disintegrate from the generous dose of condiments, and it was nicely toasted, using a special contraption to heat in the inside of the puka, but the flavor and texture were unremarkable.

As for the sauces, I picked their specialty condiments, including the spicy garlic lemon sauce, the mango relish, and the lilikoi (passion fruit) mustard.  I couldn't detect any mango or lemon whatsoever; what I mostly got was spiciness, a lot of garlic, and a sweet honey mustard flavor.  So while I liked the taste of the combined condiments, I didn't quite feel like I was getting a distinctive tropical flavor; and if I'd gone for the traditional mustard-ketchup-pickle relish combo, I would have had little to comment on other than the clever delivery mechanism.  I would certainly like to try some of the other relishes, probably on their own without the other add-ons, although the coconut and banana options strike me offhand as baffling flavor options to go with a grilled sausage.

If you're in the Waikiki area and like hot dogs, I'd say give it a try.  But on a short trip, I would save time and space for plate lunch instead.

The currywurst report

Last month, I had a brief vacation in Berlin. I was last there in 1998 or 1999, and the city was one great big construction zone, turbulent, dynamic, and confusing. My friend Juliane, who grew up in Essen, travelled with me to visit my friend Ramelle, who grew up in Hawaii. I recall at the time seeing the Imbiss stands selling currywurst but was steered away from them. Fast forward ten years: I knew I had to try some currywurst, at the very least to satisfy my curiosity and to add at least one post to my blog.

During my five day stay, I had currywurst three times in three days, and I am not ashamed to say that I would have happily had more. I will also admit that I am desperately craving some now and will need to make a trip to Hallo Berlin pretty soon for a fix. I do not claim to be an expert on this glorious street food, and don't want to get into a fight about its origins, but will share some of my impressions.

First stop, Konnopke's Imbiss at 44 Schönhauser Allee in Prenzlauer Berg under the Eberswalder Straße U-Bahn tracks. Ramelle's husband, Peer, pointed it out to me the first day I arrived, but I didn't get to it until a few days later, just before Ramelle and I went on the "Red Berlin" tour at Pariser Platz. The currywurst was nothing like what I had in NYC - the sliced bratwurst had snap, texture, heft, and flavor; the sauce was ketchup-y but not just warmed-up Heinz, less sweet and a little tangier; and the curry powder was liberally applied and had heat. Mit Brötchen, a small roll, perfect for sopping up the sauce, I paid 2 euro - about $3.50 - quite a deal for a tasty, filling, and, sadly for me, addictive meal.

Slowpoke

I'm upset that it takes me forever to post items to the blog (seems like I do it just slightly more often than going to the gym), so I'm just going to do a quick and dirty one.

Folks in the Youth Justice Program will probably be heading out to lovely Portland, Oregon, for a site visit in the next few months.  I doubt that I will be asked to join them, nevertheless, I'll be a good sport and start recommending some enjoyable spots.

Good Dog / Bad Dog at 708 SW Alder (and in the Portland Airport!) is a sweet little place with a nice assortment of dogs and an amusingly decorated interior.  Their motto - Sausages for all - pretty much says it.  Another good spot is Fido's Frankfurters, a hot dog truck at SW Park and Taylor.  The owners are friendly folks who will discount your meal or supersize it gratis near the end of the day.  Makes for a hearty snack or meal before catching a movie at the nearby multiplex.

I will leave it for another time to speculate as to why Portland is, for its size, a remarkable food city; why it has such an interesting variety of food vendors, all set up in their own parking spaces in municipal lots; and why it seems to have a great sausage culture given the common stereotypes of west coast tree huggers (perhaps it has to do with their fantastic microbrew culture?).

More Portland recommendations will be coming up.  There, that wasn't so hard to do!

The sweltering heat

A few inches of snow dropped overnight, and while it's actually not that cold outside, I started to reminisce about this past summer.  While in DC for a conference in August, I decided I had to go to Ben's Chili Bowl (1213 U Street, N.W., near 13th St.).  It was blistering hot, and I didn't feel like venturing outdoors, but my stomach and my curiosity trumped my aversion to heat and humidity.

Ben's is a neighborhood fixture with a laid-back appeal and obviously loyal following.  Taking a spot at the long counter facing the stove, I had a Ben's Original Chili Half-Smoke,"originally made famous by Ben's in 1958. Split and grilled on request, served on a warm steamed bun with chili, mustard, and onions."  It is a gorgeous concoction, with all the elements working harmoniously.  The chili has the right proportion of beans to meat; the half-smoke (half-beef and half-pork) snaps just right; and the mustard and onions provide brightness and sharpness.  The ridged potato chips that come with the hot dog contribute by adding a pleasing saltiness and nice contrasting crunch.  The chips are also helpful to shovel up the bits of chili that drop off the dog.

I can't do proper justice in describing this (check out this reverential writeup), but just the thought of this one meal brings a smile to my face and a rumbling in my tummy.  Suffice it to say that I would like to live near Ben's so I could get a hot dog whenever I wanted (not to mention anything off their amazing looking breakfast menu - must give that a shot next time I'm in town).

After that, as if that weren't enough, I lumbered a few blocks over to Lovecafe (1501 U St. N.W.), the sitdown spot for Cakelove, which Suzanne M., whose opinions are to be trusted, had named the best bakery in DC.  (The baker/owner of Cakelove has a great background story that I should probably use as model for my next career move.)

I think the waddle to Lovecafe was only three long blocks, but I was nearly floored by the heat from the air, the sidewalk, and the glaring sun.  It was like being in a convection oven.  Anyhow, it was a relief and a respite to step into Lovecafe.  I had a lemon berry tart with a surprisingly textured crust - not crisp or flaky, but like an angel-food cake, only denser.  That may not be describing it right, but the proper comparison isn't coming to mind just now.  In any case, it was just the right thing after the chili dog - sweet but not cloying, tart and lively, and not at all heavy.

I managed to make it back to the hotel without passing out, thanks largely in part to the air-conditioning in the Metro stations - talk about civilized.  But whatever the weather, I'm definitely going back to the U Street corridor for the eats and to learn a bit more about the history of the neighborhood.

Dogged pursuits

Midway Airport on the South Side of Chicago has an outpost of Gold Coast Dogs, as I found out happily this September.  As far as I know, you can't get a good Chicago-style dog in NYC, and I've done a fair bit of research with my co-workers who hail from the Chicagoland area.  So in three trips to Chicago this year, I've tried to pick up a dog at the airport on either the inbound or outbound leg of the trip, if not both.  Recommendation: get a hot dog, take it over to one of the many bars in the food court, and savor it over a pint (or two or three) of Honkers Ale from Goose Island Beer Company.  It'll make the trip back home a whole lot easier.

Don't know what a Chicago hot dog is?  Check out the recipe at the Vienna Beef site and an explanation/tribute from a Chicago Tribune article (click on the link and scroll down the page to get reviews of other hot dog stands in the city):

"Not much in this world is perfect.

The Chicago hot dog is perfect.

Boiled or steamed, not grilled, it lies regally in a lightly steamed poppy-seed bun and is annointed with:

• Diced onion
• Tomato wedges
• Pickle relish the color of Kryptonite
• Yellow mustard
• A few sport peppers
• A dill pickle spear
• A shake of celery salt

There's your classic Chicago style dog, a perfect teaming of tastes and colors and textures. Also there's a bonus, the "snap" as your teeth sink through the casing -- like Chicagoans themselves, a little resistant at first, and then so welcoming.

We don't have to mention, no ketchup! None! Ever! Do we?"

A craving deferred

I went to Broome Doggs for one reason: curry wurst.  When I was in Berlin - what, 8 years ago? - my friend, former roommate, and Essen native JP would not allow me to have one, even though curry wurst stands dotted the streets.  I think she found it disgusting, but JP was never much of a junk food eater like myself.  In any case, when I read that Broome Doggs featured this item on its short menu, I knew I had to go, and the timing was good last Friday - John M., Chicago hot dog aficionado mentioned in previous postings, was in town for co-worker Joel's going away party.  He joined me and Hester (after I called to see if veggie hot dogs were an option - tofu only at this point) for a quick bite.

The curry wurst was not what I'd expected at all, although if I'd done my homework, I wouldn't have anticipated a sausage smothered in a thick Japanese-style curry sauce.  The sauce was thin, slightly peppery and vinegary, a little tomatoe-y and didn't have much curry flavor - the proprietor described it as "Tandoori style."  It tasted pretty good, but the hot dog, sliced up and piled up on a bun, was of the spongy/scary variety you'd find in franks-n-beans.  I added a little bit of spicy mustard from the condiment bar (excellent, with fixins like "potato chip dust," sriracha hot sauce, and enough items, including celery salt, to almost manufacture a Chicago hot dog), and that gave the curry wurst a little more zing.

So, is it worth trying out Broome Doggs?  Yes, if you've never had curry wurst, check it out.  Otherwise, I wouldn't call it a destination, but if you're in the neighborhood (Lower East Side, 250 Broome Street between Orchard and Ludlow, (917) 453-6013) and feel like slathering a hot dog with all kinds of stuff, there's no reason not to drop in.  The owner's a friendly dude who'll talk to you about buying a used commercial-grade refrigerator off craigs list.  While you're there, get a bottle of Ting, a tasty, snappy Jamaican grapefruit soda.

For more on curry wurst and a picture of the condiment bar, see the entry at the Hedonista blog.

The Completo, continued

Former co-worker and hot dog aficionado John M. of VA (well, of Chicago, really) somehow found this website with a recipe for the "All Star AvoDog," inspired by the completo.  This version could be easier to eat (less guacamole), although I wonder what the addition of all the traditional dog fixins (mustard, ketchup, grilled onions) would do to the flavor.

Check out the National Hot Dog and Sausage Council website.  I haven't toured through it yet.