Foodies Never Die

We Have Moved!

2013-05-12T09:40:00.001-07:00

This site will be coming down in a little bit, as we have moved to our own domain! That's right, from now on we will be at foodiesneverdie.com! So come visit us, tell your friends, and as always, click them ads! Foodies never die, that is all.

Baa Ram Ewe

2013-02-04T06:56:00.001-08:00

Welcome back to another exciting episode of Cooking with Foodie. What is it about lamb that makes me not want to work with it? I think it's a combination of a few things. First of all, every time I've eaten lamb at a restaurant it's generally been rather fancy and, quite frankly, beyond my skill level. For example, this lamb shank I had at the restaurant at the top of the Guiness storehouse in Dublin:

I've also had rack of lamb at several nice places, and after watching 10,000 episodes of Hell's Kitchen I feel like once I ruined it, Gordon Ramsay would burst into my kitchen screaming, "it's raw!!" Also, every time I see lamb I think of that old cartoon, Lambert the Friendly Lion, and think of his poor mother. So, long story short, lamb and I have not been close. But I wanted to try something new and share the experience with you folks. I had planned on making it a complete disaster to show you that I, too, am only human. Sadly, it turned out amazing. So you lesser mortals will have to wait a little bit longer to see me fail. Tee hee. So here it is, folks: Foodie's Coconut Crusted Lamb.

Step one: buy breast of of lamb. At first, I was a bit confused. And yes, the thought that entered my mind was actually, "lambs have breasts?" I know how stupid that sounds. Of course they have breasts. They're a mammal. You don't have to be a damn cryptozoologist to figure that out. But honestly, as a cut of meat, I've never seen breast of lamb. At first, I thought it's just what they call it on this tiny little island. As it turns out, they just don't sell this cut where I'm from and it's actually quite common. So yes, buy your breast of lamb. It should look like this:

Step two: take the string off and unroll it. Don't cut the string unless you have more string. Which I do, but it took me a few years to learn to have string handy. I like using hemp, which has nothing to do with this recipe, I just think it's an underused product. Back to the recipe, my lamby lambs. Unrolled it will look more like this:

Step three: sticking with the fruit motif, I decided to fill the lamb with apple slices. So cut them up nice and small and arrange them in a nice line at one end of the lamb. Like so:

Step four: roll it back up and tie the string back on. On a side note, I had a nicely trimmed cut, but apparently these are sold with a lot more fat, which you should trim. Also the bit in the upper right corner of the photo I originally took out because I didn't think the string would fit back around with the apples, but I was wrong. So I actually just put the apples in that and rolled it back up. It gets rather annoying to wash your hands after every single step just so you don't get lamb juice all over your camera, so that's why I didn't take a picture of the way it ended up. Which was basically the same damn thing. I really do need an assistant to help with my work. Any takers? Anywho. Roll Lambert back up. Yes, I know Lambert is the name of the lion, and not the lamb, but it's a good lamb name so I'm gonna call it Lambert. Deal with it.

Step five: Take a plate and cover it with coconut flakes. Roll Lambert in the flakes until he's completely covered. Really grind him into them. He should look like this:

Step six: pop Lambert in the oven at 180 degrees Celsius (that's about 350 in real numbers (Fahrenheit)). Don't tell me you're not impressed by my double parentheses. Let Lambert roast for about 75 minutes.

Step seven: take him out and let him set for about 15 minutes. He should look freakin' fantastic. Like this:

I seriously thought this was going to be a miserable failure to add to my list of awesome kitchen experiments gone wrong. But the smell was amazing. While he was setting, I made myself some buttered noodles and sprinkled them with a blend of Spanish and Italian cheeses (Manchego, Grana Padano, and Parmesan).

Step eight: cut Lambert into slices, plate, and serve. Here was my dinner last night while the other bachelors were eating cereal and easy mac:

Ladies, please form a single file line. No shoving. Here's a close-up of the lamb:

Remember, you can always click on the pictures to make them bigger. I just did, and the detail is making me hungry. Also, the apple bits in the center turned out to be a nice addition. The Spanish and Italian cheeses in the pasta were a great sharp compliment to the mellow coconut of the lamb. All in all, this is definitely going in the win column, and hopefully will inspire you to try new things. Honestly, things almost never go this well for me on a first attempt at something wonderfully strange and new. Let that be a life lesson. Try something you've been hesitant to do. Foodies never die. That is all.

If you would like to support Foodies Never Die, you can do so for free by clicking on the ads! The blog is powered by Google AdSense, so every time you click, the blog gets a couple pennies. Thanks for reading and remember to try new things!

Italian Soul Food

2013-01-12T07:12:00.000-08:00

So, I got my start learning how to cook from a very abusive Italian "friend" in the army. First a red sauce, then a cream sauce. He would hit me upside the back of my head when my efforts were inadequate, and reward my competence with such golden phrases like, "this ain't that bad," and "I wouldn't let my kids eat this, but you could feed it to people." I don't remember the guy's name, but I remember how proud I was when his non-English speaking wife would try it and NOT spit it out immediately.

He would explain to me over and over how my attempts to "cook" were offensive to his people and how everything "Italian" in America was, in fact, Italian-inspired American food. I would spend four hours making my cream sauce only to "ruin" it by pouring it over store-bought pasta. While I take great pride in my sauces, the abuse took its toll after a while. I eventually branched out to soups and chowders, my current love, as well as my magnificent obsession with risotto. My repertoire really isn't that vast. I'm currently compiling a collection of recipes (which I only share with those for whom I have the greatest affection), but it certainly isn't enough to fill a book. So I keep experimenting. Which leads us to today's post.

I got this recipe, which I have slightly modified, from Jess Kapadia at Food Republic, so mad props to her.

Original link: http://www.foodrepublic.com/2012/09/06/what-do-leftover-risotto-arancini-croquettes

So here is my take on Arancini Croquettes with Poached Egg. My way of saying SUCK IT to my abusive Italian comrade and introducing him to my Italian Soul Food. This is my Kung Fu, and it is very strong.

Step One: Make a kick-ass risotto. You may refer to my previous post, "Let Them Eat Risotto," or you may create your own. The one I used is from my post, a good spinach and mushroom risotto.

Step Two: Enjoy the crap out of that risotto. You earned it.

Step Three: Make sure there are leftovers and put those leftovers in the fridge for at least a day. It is important to get the solid and sticky consistency required for our mad science experiment.

Step Four: The next day, put some James Brown, Wild Cherry, Parliament, or other funk music of your choice on and make this recipe. You may experiment with some Bob Marley if you wish, but it brings up some bittersweet memories for me. I recommend The Funk.

Ingredients:
Leftover Kick-ass Risotto
Breadcrumbs (I recommend Panko if you are in Amurrica. I could not find it on this tiny island)
Butter
Mozzarella Cheese
Eggs

First make two equal sized mounds of risotto.

Next pound them down into patties. When they look like the shape and size of hamburger patties, coat them in breadcrumbs like so:

Get your skillet nice and hot and toss a little bit of butter in there. Not a whole lot, just enough to pan fry these puppies. Flip them once they are golden brown on bottom.Observe:

Now on one of these little croquettes put a generous portion of mozzarella and let it get all melty. First person to tell me that 'melty' isn't a word gets smacked with my new risotto spoon.

Cook the other croquette for about thirty seconds longer, because you want the bottom of it hot enough to melt any cheese that is unmelty. See? I can make up words. Then put it on top of the mozzarella:

I then lock this plate in the microwave to keep it hot while I poach my egg. If you don't know how to poach an egg, don't feel bad. There are several ways to do it, but honestly I think my way is most simple: Put a pot of water on to boil. When it boils, crack an egg into it. The egg will be poached in about three minutes. Use a slotted spoon to capture the egg VERY CAREFULLY. If you break the yoke, dump everything out and start over. Poached egg whites are rather unimpressive. Finished product should look like so:

I honestly wanted to stop taking pictures and tear into this thing, but I thought I'd show some restraint and give you this last glorious picture:

The yoke makes this dish so rich, I can't even describe it. This is by far my new favorite recipe and I strongly recommend you make it. If I were ever trying to tell someone I loved them, I would make them this dish. If I ever had a wife, I would make this for her on demand. My sweet, risotto-loving, imaginary wife. Bah.

So hopefully you try the recipe and, again, much respect to Jess Kapadia at Food Republic. Be fearless in the kitchen and try new things. Foodies never die. That is all.

If you would like to support Foodies Never Die, you can do so for free by clicking on the ads! The blog is powered by Google AdSense, so every time you click, the blog gets a couple pennies. Thanks for reading and remember to try new things!

Belfast Christmas Market

2012-12-22T13:34:00.000-08:00

Seasons greetings. After a long batch of PhD application nonsense as well as finals to worry about over here, I finally have some down time. So for you committed followers, thank you for waiting. A bit of an update, the blog has had 2,300+ views and has racked up about $13 in advertising revenue, none of which I see until we reach $100, so click on them ads. Anywho. Christmas market time. So, over here Christmas markets are kind of a big deal. Think state fair food, but with more international flair. Unlike our lame Christmas markets back home, which target audiences of the 75 year and older range, selling absolutely useless craft nonsense to seniors in what can only be described as a social security swindling scam, the market here is quite awesome. And I'm told the one here is rather small and lame by people who know such things. For a foodie, though, the Belfast market is a nice little sample-fest. There are so many things here, it literally took me a couple days to sample everything I wanted to sample. For starters, I have seen waffle stands all over this damn country and the one next door. You would never see a waffle stand in Amurrica. It's a breakfast food. Here, it's also a nice dessert type snack. Observe:

Why, yes, those are in fact waffles with about 10 different toppings. Not pictured are the cones of churros (yes, a cone of them, drizzled with chocolate), and the mini Swedish pancakes (you get about 20 of them) topped with powdered sugar and jam. So yeah, you could get sick on them alone. But there's also the french pastry tent:

With oodles of mini pies,

oodles of regular-sized pies,

and for you Narnia lovers (I'm looking at you, Tweet) real freakin' Turkish Delight.

But dessert is for later, you say. That's ok. There are plenty of regular food stuffs to be had as well. At this particular stand you can get just about any meat you can think of: kangaroo, ostrich, zebra, wild boar, you name it. Hell, if you slip the dude a twenty, you can probably get griffin. See:

Served in a bun with delicious fried onions. I got wild boar as I had already tried most of those weird ones in France last Christmas:

But hey, cartoon meat not your thing? No problem, because in addition to a noodle place (noodle, don't noodle) and a french baguette place, there's also the Welsh pig on a spit place where you can get pork and onions four different ways, including in a roll:

Now, the food is all well and good, but the really special part of the market for me, the crown jewel of this place, is the beer tent. Well, there are two, actually. One is sponsored by a pub in town, and the other is a German beer tent. Guess which one I went to?

Das ist gut, ja? Honestly, I think the ghost of Mark Campbell pushed me in. Or one of his ancestors seeing as how I haven't killed him yet. Anywho. The inside:

I was plum surprised (that one's for you Mikey). It was fantastic inside. My friends got a cactus beer and a raspberry beer, both quite smooth:

I came back a couple days later and got an apple cider (the hard stuff) and a brat:

All in all, I had a great time over the few days I sampled stuff there. Special thanks to: Kate, Heather, Janine, Miki, Maria the Bubble, Zort (all hail emperor Zort), Leonie, and Jana for going with me to sample stuff.

I will be trying a new experiment in my abomination of a kitchenette tomorrow, so hopefully I will have that post up soon. You guys deserve better so I will try to deliver. Click on them ads! Remember to be generous in this season of giving and to be fearless in the kitchen. Foodies never die. That is all.

If you would like to support Foodies Never Die, you can do so for free by clicking on the ads! The blog is powered by Google AdSense, so every time you click, the blog gets a couple pennies. Thanks for reading and remember to try new things!

Molly's Yard

2012-11-03T19:01:00.001-07:00

Before we get started, let me just say it was a bit dark, and my camera is crap. Because it's a phone, not a camera. I don't try to make calls with your Nikon D-whatever, so no wisecracks about the megapixels, which I assume is a real word. Anywho.

On this particular evening, I found another foodie to go with me, so we could get more mileage out of the menu. We made our way by cab to Molly's Yard, and arrived at a rather large wall with a rather not-large entry way into a dark area - the type of dark area you tend to send the less useful members of the party into first. But being that I am at least 12 feet taller than most of the people on this island, I bravely (nearly wet myself) entered the dark courtyard first and we found the entrance.

Inside, the place was tiny. I mean, really tiny. Like big enough to run a takeaway while a couple old dudes play checkers in the corner. Lucky enough though, they do have an upstairs with a bit more room. As I said before, the atmosphere was a bit dark, but in a nice way. It made for an intimate dining experience, with some great Irish music faintly in the background. So if you've only got two people, I strongly recommend it for a great place to eat if you want some good conversation. Observe:

And that's with the flash on. Yup. Also, if, like me, you find yourself to be a rather large person and the person accompanying you just happens to be, as it was in this instance, a fourth your size, I might recommend having them take the chair with the little cushion while you take the bench. Just saying. I bravely (foolishly) tackled the chair and subdued it for 2 hours, which my hiney paid for. Oh, right, the food.

To start, I picked out the linguine with sage, parmesan, and pork. Which was delicious. The only critique I had was the plate. Bowl. Plate-bowl. Bowl-plate?

See what I mean?! In what universe is this a practical dish? It'd be a freakin' nightmare to eat cereal or soup out of. Clearly not a bowl. Yet not even close to being a plate. Because of the large, you know, HOLE in the middle. Clearly this foodie has not seen everything. Anywho. My comrade picked the dry aged fillet of beef with pickled cabbage, which was quite good. Feast your eyes:

Remember to click on the pictures to make them bigger. Or just squint. It's kinda your choice. In true foodie fashion, we then had the cheese. Because you know I must try the cheese before the main course, which meant ordering off the dessert menu in the middle of dinner.

Now, the cheese was delicious. There was a bleu, a smokey one, a brown one (which on first glance, I was seriously skeptical about, but we both ended up enjoying it), and a creamy one that we really liked. And I would love to show you these cheeses, I truly would. But we kinda... tore through them. So here's a picture of the plate they came on, with the spiced chutney it was served with:

As you can see, it's a lovely plate. Functional, no holes in the middle, perfect for placing things on. Like cheese, for instance. Yeah. Bad foodie...

For the mains, I ordered the venison with sage dauphinoise potatoes and blackberry jus. I'd never had venison that wasn't jerky, so I wanted to see if this was any better. And it was. I'd never had the potatoes like they were either, so that was a treat. I do like trying new things. Here's mine:

My friend decided to be a bit more adventurous than my meat and potatoes choice (and good for her), and she went with the roast squash, wild mushroom, and spinach lasagne with parsnip crisps. I seriously thought it was going to be a boring vegetarian option. Honestly, I can count the number of vegetarian lasagna's I've enjoyed on one finger. But this foodie had game. She straight up out-ordered me and got the better deal. Don't get me wrong, I really enjoyed my Bambi and Taters, but the lasagne was fantastic. See:

Oh, sure. NOW the flash decides to work. Damn Iphone. Anyway. Dessert was last on the list. This time, I think I got the slightly better deal. But I am biased. I got the Irish cream and banana bread and butter pudding with Tully vanilla ice cream. Which was flippin' fantastic. I zoomed (moved the camera in with my hands) in real close for you:

My friend ordered Molly’s famous Belgian chocolate brownie with Just Jersey ice cream and chocolate sauce, which was good too. I'm a sucker for banana bread, so I think I enjoyed mine more, but the brownie was pretty great. I'd def recommend it for brownie-lovers. Her's certainly looked cooler.

And did you notice the dish from my dessert? Same damn plate-bowl! Where on earth did they FIND those? Anywho.

So, overall impression: wonderful evening. Atmosphere was cozy and intimate, made for great conversation, and the food was certainly worthy of a trip back in the future. You should go to there. Or just continue to live vicariously through me. Which actually helps with the ad revenue. Click on them ads! So yes, try new things (kudos for trying the risotto recipe, you know who you are), and be fearless in the kitchen! Foodies never die. That is all.

If you would like to support Foodies Never Die, you can do so for free by clicking on the ads! The blog is powered by Google AdSense, so every time you click, the blog gets a couple pennies. Thanks for reading and remember to try new things!

Let Them Eat Risotto

2012-10-25T04:37:00.000-07:00

As this is a food blog, I do like to write about foodie experiences as a whole. Restaurants, markets, recipes, experiments gone wrong, etc. Every once in a while, though, I do like to share something special. Well, at least it's special to me. Now, you'll never get recipes like my chowder, which I hold higher than a damn state secret, but risotto is something that needs to be shared with the world. So here it is, for the very first time in its entirety: My Spinach and Mushroom Risotto with Pancetta. As always, the better the ingredients, the better the risotto, but I work with what I can on this tiny island and a few weeks ago we came up with something that I was quite pleased with. This is NOT my best risotto (again, state secret), but this will at least get you started. Ingredients are as follows:

1 Bag of fresh spinach
Generous amount of mushrooms (generous amount is the technical term. Back off.)
2 Cups Arborio rice
4 Cups water
2 Cups milk
Hand-sized chunk of Mull of Kintyre, shredded (size of hand may vary. Find the biggest hands in the room and go with that.)
1 Cup Italian pancetta
Raspberry balsamic vinegar
Butter
Saffron
Seasoning, as desired (I prefer salt, pepper, and a little garlic powder.)

First, chop up the spinach and mushrooms into bite size pieces. Toss these into your large saute pan. If you don't have a large saute pan, you should stop now and go buy one. When you get home, wash it out and start again. While it doesn't necessarily help to name your saute pan, it certainly doesn't hurt. I call mine Steve the Risotto Pan. Anywho. Chop them spinaches and mushrooms up and toss them in Steve. Or Susan. Or whatever. Toss in a big chunk of butter, and generously drizzle some raspberry balsamic vinegar over it. Here is a picture showing how big the butter chunk should be, as well as a reasonably large hand to base your chunk of cheese on:

Notice the smaller frying pan in the upper right hand corner. It doesn't have a name. But it does have a purpose. Start frying your pancetta up now. Also, take a pinch of saffron, and put it in your first cup of water, preferably warm.

Once the butter has melted, you're going to want to saute the mushrooms and spinach in their butter/raspberry goodness until they reduce a bit. Here's what that should look like:

After that has reduced a bit, toss in the 2 cups of Arborio rice. Yes, yes, I know, there's a big movement right now in the risotto world AWAY from Arborio toward the more expensive Carnaroli. They're also making it runny instead of thick. Well they can have my Arborio when they pry it from my cold dead hands. And I'll start making runny risotto when Keira Knightley agrees to run away with me. Until then, old words are the best words. And the old words say, "use the damn Arborio."

We obey (in my very best Dalek voice).

So you've tossed in the Arborio rice (because you're old school and you know what a damn VCR is) with the mushrooms and the spinach. It's okay to let it get a teensy weensy bit of a crisp to it (the rice, that is), but DO NOT let it start to brown. Risotto gets its thickness from releasing the starch in the rice, and if you brown it, you seal in the starch. So after sauteing the rice and mushroom and spinach, pour in the first cup of water with the saffron when it looks something like this:

After adding the water, it will look something like this:

This, for me, is the important part: adding the water 1 cup at a time. I ruined so many risottos before finding this out. Occasionally stir, but wait until the water has been soaked up by the rice before adding the next cup. Do this with all four cups of water. Somewhere in this process, the pancetta will be done. Take it out of the skillet and strain the grease from it.

Once all four cups of water have been absorbed, pour in the two cups of milk and plop the shredded cheese right on top, like so:

Stir in the cheese and milk to the concoction, and add the pancetta. It will look a bit gloopish (another technical term. You'll catch on) for a bit while the milk is absorbed, and note that it will generally take a little bit longer than the water. Observe:

This is where you would season, as desired, and depending on what you like your risotto to taste like. Salt is generally a must, but you should experiment. Anywho. Stir and stir some more, until you have a solid mass of risotto. The finished product should look like so:

And on the plate, which offers a better view of the consistency you should shoot for, unless you're a communist:

Keep in mind that this stuff is hearty. I have no idea why they call things hearty that will likely cause a heart attack. I suppose because deathy just doesn't sound appealing for food.

So there you have it, a tried and true risotto recipe for you to enjoy. Don't be ashamed if you ruin it the first five or six times. God knows I did. The important thing is to be fearless in the kitchen and try things you normally wouldn't.

Foodies never die. That is all.

If you would like to support Foodies Never Die, you can do so for free by clicking on the ads! The blog is powered by Google AdSense, so every time you click, the blog gets a couple pennies. Thanks for reading and remember to try new things!

The Wabbit

2012-10-13T18:25:00.002-07:00

I promised to post my great rabbit experiment, so here it is. As I said before, I hadn't the foggiest idea what to do with rabbit meat in general, never mind a whole one. I decided I would cut it up, rub the pieces with a garlic infused olive oil, sprinkle with salt, and pan fry them. I began by putting the critter on a pan to cut up. Even without a head and guts, it looks like it's trying to run away. I felt bad for it. I mean, the damn thing was already dead and I felt bad going at it with a knife. Oh well. Observe the poor beast:

You cut up enough poultry and after a while you forget that it's actually an animal. So you figure, I've carved up an animal before, how hard could this possibly be? And then you get to the rabbit and for the first time it occurs to you: rabbits don't fly, jackass. They aren't birds. So yes, their anatomy is slightly different from chickens and turkeys. Just getting the damn legs off was not like ripping it off a bird. It required some Oomf (I believe that's the technical term). So yeah. After about a half hour of feeling like some sort of deranged serial murderer, here's what I ended up with:

Tell me that doesn't look like I've been carving a trout. So psychologically, I've gone from cutting birds to rabbits to fish. I'm exhausted and we haven't even started cooking yet. So the pieces are arranged, rubbed with oil and seasoned like so:

Since the back legs were the biggest (rabbits are the BMW's of the fast furry critter underworld racing scene), I started with those first. Here is what they looked like before:

And nicely pan fried afterward:

Which might look nice (and you're very nice for saying so, thank you) but they weren't that good. What I ended up with was something reminiscent of bad calamari. It was tough, bland, heavy on the garlic, and in case I forgot to mention, tough. Rabbits run all day. That's all they do if they aren't caged up. They spend all day every day running and humping, running and humping. Not so great for the meat. That and, as I suck at pan frying things, it wasn't entirely cooked all the way through. So, I did something I almost never do. I attempted to fix it by turning it into something else. I started by pulling all the meat apart. Which is hard to do with your sharp-ass teeth already, so oily fingers didn't get the job done any quicker. Anywho, I tore all the meat up and was left with a good amount:

I tossed that in a pan and covered it in my new raspberry balsamic vinegar from Sawers (which has become my favorite thing in the whole world to cook with):

I then pan fried it until all the vinegar had burned off and the meat had a nice brown to it:

What I was left with was a tender, delicious meat with a slight hint of raspberry sweetness. I cut up some of my new favorite cheese, busted out the crackers, and had myself a fantastic dinner of cheese and rabbit on crackers:

Suck it, Bugs Bunny! I ain't afraid of you!

And that was the great rabbit experiment. A rare first-time success for only five pounds worth of rabbit, which is about $8 in real money. I hope you will all try something daring soon, as even a glorious failure can be a great story. Stay tuned for my risotto dinner coming later this week, and remember that foodies never die. That is all.

If you would like to support Foodies Never Die, you can do so for free by clicking on the ads! The blog is powered by Google AdSense, so every time you click, the blog gets a couple pennies. Thanks for reading and remember to try new things!

St. George's Market

2012-10-06T05:51:00.001-07:00

Since I got off the damn plane here, people have been telling me to hit up St. George's Market. From the descriptions I was given, it sounded like a big fancy farmers market. I do love my farmers markets, so I thought I'd eventually give it a go. But I've been here for four weeks now, and the more I tell the locals I haven't been yet, the more upset they get. So I planned a trip this morning with my new friends Maria and George and we headed off to market. Behold:

Most towns I've lived in just take over a parking lot or close down main street for a few hours, but St. George has its own dedicated building. Respect. The smell was fantastic so we hurried inside where we were greeted by craft tables. Which are nice. But they are not food. I politely looked at the crafts and moved on. A few stalls down we encountered the first food booths. Fresh fruit and vegetables straight from the farm, fresh meats, freshly baked breads, hell, even a giant booth full of raw herbs and spices. I was blown away. This wasn't some quaint little Irish farmers market. It was like an underground Foodie black market that sold weapons-grade ingredients and fresh take away. My first find of the day:

You may have to click on the picture to make it bigger just to see it, but 10 points for Gryffindor if you spotted it without clicking. You shall not pass, son! At least not until you buy the wabbit. Which I did. I haven't a freaking clue how to cook wild rabbit, but it will be fun to try. There will be a post on that, so fear not. Also available was the seafood straight off the boat. Observe and weep:

After getting my rabbit and some other fresh meat, we were feeling a bit peckish, so we headed to this amazing looking Cuban sandwich stall with smells coming from it that could have lulled the pied piper himself. Damn fool always playing jazz flute... Anywho. The sandwiches looked amazing and smelled even better. I know, I know, you want to see the picture. There isn't one. There also wasn't a sandwich. Not for me, anyway, because the line was a half mile long. And I had ten pounds of meat I was carrying. Pro tip: buy your meat last so you don't spend an hour hauling it around like a jackass. We did, however, have the opportunity to get a traditional Belfast Bap. A Belfast Bap is sausage, bacon (not wimpy American bacon), and a fried egg on a giant roll (the bap). Here are our baps being made:

Another ten points for Gryffindor if you spotted the free-range eggs. You'd better be reading this, Tweet. You nerd. After sitting down outside on the street and eating our baps, we headed back inside where Maria got fresh flowers, of which there is no picture because flowers are not food (one word about how flowers ARE food and you get punched in the throat). I ran off to get fresh vegetables for tonight's risotto (yes, there will be a post). Here is one of the stands serving fresh veggies:

As we made our way out, I was struck again by the artisan quality of so much of the food there, and I weep a bit for the supermarkets that have become our way of life. Sure, it's more convenient. But I think we're losing something. Just look at this small cupcake business, where art truly meats food:

Please click to make it bigger and take a minute to appreciate. I certainly did. All in all, I really enjoyed the trip. I'm pretty sure I'll make a monthly go of it. The ingredients for foodie stuff alone are worth getting up early on the weekend. And I'll sure as hell be back for one of them Cuban sandwiches. Foodies never die. That is all.

If you would like to support Foodies Never Die, you can do so for free by clicking on the ads! The blog is powered by Google Adsense, so every time you click, the blog gets a couple pennies. Thanks for reading and remember to try new things!

Deanes

2012-10-04T08:14:00.001-07:00

Formerly Belfast's only Michelin Star restaurant, Deanes fell from grace in 2010 when, through no fault of its own, the restaurant had to be closed due to frost damage. The closure coincided with the Michelin inspection and the star was lost. Boo hoo. It should be noted that Michael Deane held the star for 12 years - no small feat. Given its reputation, I decided that Deanes was a must on my list of places to visit in Belfast and so today I made the trip in for lunch. The interior was quite nice and, while I was under-dressed on purpose, I was greeted warmly and shown to my table. Photo of the restaurant:

I sat staring at the menu for a few minutes, torn between two starters: the foie gras or the risotto. I have been so disappointed by fine dining risotto in the past, and I really wanted to put Deanes to the test. On a recent trip to France I ordered a risotto from a reputable establishment and found it to be unpalatable. I sent it back and told the waiter that if the chef would like instruction in the fine art of risotto, I'd be happy to teach him myself. My risotto took years to make right, and while I am no master, the proper construction of risotto demands the practitioners respect. End risotto rant. I asked the waitress her suggestion and she kindly reminded me that I was in a French brasserie and perhaps I should go with the foie gras. Well done, waitress. I ordered the foie gras and was not disappointed. Having recently had a delicious foie gras brulee at the Little Bird in Portland, Oregon, my standards were quite high. Chef Deane did not disappoint with a rich and creamy foie gras parfait, a marinated foie gras, and a deliciously sweet plum chutney served with sourdough toast. To emphasize how good it was, I was already into it before realizing I was supposed to take a photo. Partially eaten foie gras:

After the starter, things sadly began to fall apart. Eyeing the specials board, I saw a bone-in prime rib with bearnaise sauce and chips. For 28 pounds. Which I ordered. Cue collective boo-ing. The prime rib arrived with a tomato on top and sauce and chips on the side. I have never been more disappointed with a prime rib in my life. The rib itself was alright, but I got bored with it halfway through. The taste was okay, but certainly not something to write about. I've never gotten tired of eating prime rib mid course, and it was rather alarming. I imagine this is how men feel when they discover their woman is faking it. The bearnaise sauce was good, technically well executed and rich but, again, boring. The chips were good, with good presentation, but hardly special. All in all, a disappointment. At this point, however, I do want to make sure I mention some mitigating factors. First, I was the only chubby American in the joint and I have a sneaking suspicion the prime rib was on the board for picky, fat, fellow countryman that think they wouldn't like French food. Second, I was in a French brasserie (which formerly held a Michelin star) and had ordered prime rib rather than the French cuisine that was on the bloody menu. Third, everyone else's food that came from the kitchen looked fantastic. While I don't think Deane's should even be offering a prime rib, I've come to the conclusion that this one was on me. When I return, I shall do my level best to keep the knee-jerk American portion of my brain in check and order the damn French food in a French restaurant. What a shame. The prime rib:

After the prime rib disaster, I needed something sweet to quell the sadness, so I ordered dessert, again off of the specials board. This time, I was rewarded for my boldness. The coconut mousse arrived with some pineapple sorbet, some raspberries, and fresh cream. While not amazing, I must admit it hit the spot and I would probably order it again. The coconut mousse:

All in all, for the price I was a bit disappointed. But I must admit, the fault lies mostly in my rather foolish selection. The perfect foie gras leads me to believe that Chef Deane knows what the hell he's doing, and I will return in the future to sample some food that's a bit more French. Foodies never die. That is all.

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Sawers

2012-10-01T12:28:00.001-07:00

I was going to write about my great risotto disaster, but I've decided to write about Sawers instead. Every time I ask about a cheese shop, the locals' eyes light up and they talk about Sawers. It took me a week to find it, yesterday being the day of discovery, but it was closed on Sunday so I had to come back today. I'm trying to find the words to describe this place without being unsavory. And I can't. It's like porn for cheese lovers. They had everything. And I don't mean like our quaint wine and cheese shop in Moscow had everything, or the imported cheese stand at Safeway had everything, or even the giant cheese sections at the Wegman's in Buffalo had everything. Fruity cheese, spicy cheese, sweet cheese, tangy cheese, nutty cheese, you name it and they pass out samples like cocaine in a bad 80's film. I had a freakin' Blueberry Wensleydale that tasted like candy. I sampled three different Spanish cheeses! This is PART of the cheese section:

I asked the nice man behind the counter if he had Dubliner (which, surprisingly, has been difficult to find) and he laughed and said, "No. I've got something much better." Now, I love my Dubliner, but what this man handed me was the most delicious cheese in the cheddar range I've ever had: Mull of Kintyre Vintage Scottish Cheddar. I almost wanted a cigarette afterward. I strongly recommend you hunt down this cheese, if it all possible.

In the middle of the long fridge section, there are some other great fancy deli things, most notably the stuffed and marinated olives. I myself don't much care for olives that aren't cooked, but I know some of you do, so here's the kind of selection you'd be dealing with in the store for your fancy olives:

And lastly, no fancy deli is complete without a trip to the meat section. I spent less time here, but only because I'd already taken up so much of their time with the cheese. Cured salami, French parma ham, pancetta, all waiting to be sliced and eaten. I was blown away by the number of different crusted salami and went home with a apple crust myself, as well as some of the French parma ham. Here is part of the meat section:

I can only apologize for my photos, as I am NOT a photographer in any sense of the word and I am using my crummy Iphone 4 camera, but at least you can kind of see what I mean. One day when Epicurious picks me up as a guest columnist, I will have a professional to do these things. The price for everything was about ten pounds, or sixteen US dollars, so I was very happy. If you are ever in Belfast, I STRONGLY recommend a visit, but if not, you can always live vicariously through my blog. Anywho, find the cheese, save the princess, and always have crackers on hand. Foodies never die. That is all.

Cayenne

2012-09-29T12:54:00.000-07:00

Tonight was a bloody masterpiece. Belfast's only Michelin-rated restaurant, Cayenne, gave me the best meal I've had in, well, years. As I told the server, if I died tonight in the Belfast riots and this was my last meal, I'd be alright with that. He laughed and said it was a possibility, which made it all the more satisfying. I'd feel as though I got away with something. Yes, Death, you may come for me tonight. I've already eaten well, so suck it.

As an American, I had to be difficult to begin with. I ordered the cheeses to start, which is usually fine in a non-French-style American restaurant, but as is generally the case outside the states, the cheese is in the dessert section. So, in keeping with my general reputation as a fat bastard, I ordered dessert first. Technically. The cheese was magnificent, with a lovely brie, two other cheeses I couldn't remember the names of, a phenomenal cheddar, and a bleu that went down rather smooth. I was happy with the bleu and a little bit proud of it. I don't generally like bleu cheese, so the fact that I enjoyed this one makes me feel like the little cheese tried harder. Well done, cheese. The compilation was served with crackers and a delicious pear chutney that I only wish there had been more of. Not because the portion was insufficient, but because I liked it and again, I am a fat bastard. See photo below. Of the cheese, not my being fat.

After gobbling down the cheese, my main course arrived in perfect timing: the duck breast with apple, figs, berries and potatoes. I'd say it left me speechless, but those who know me know that it's rather difficult for me to shut up. This duck was flawless. Perfectly medium rare, I almost wept. But I kept my composure and soldiered on through the delightful meal. There is a stereotype out there that the nicer the restaurant, the smaller the portion size. I have been to some rather small-portioned restaurants in my day, but Cayenne is not among them. As you can see here, this was no mild-mannered fillet. This was a full main course, with presentation that made you think twice about disturbing it with a fork.

After the duck, I decided to return to the dessert menu. Being that Belfast is a free society, one may start and end with dessert if one wishes. However as a standing rule, it is permissible for the other patrons to point and laugh should you choose to. I chose the chocolate and raspberry plate, which included chocolate fondant, some white chocolate mousse, chocolate ice cream, raspberry jelly and dehydrated raspberries. I nearly died. Chocolate and raspberry is my favorite dessert combination, and Cayenne celebrated the union properly. You may now commence drooling over the picture below.

Though I have been to a couple restaurants in the last two weeks, they've been nothing special. And as this is the first post, I wanted it to start with a bang. After two weeks of eating Belfast's cheapest food, my funding finally came in and I decided that I had better have something worthwhile to mention to get this blog off the ground. So I hope you will follow the blog, as I hope to keep it regularly updated with new restaurants and the occasional odd recipe. Remember the foodie anthem, to be fearless and try new things, and as always, remember that foodies never die!

*UPDATE* It is worth mentioning also that the service was impeccable. The entire staff was friendly and probably the most competent people I've seen in the service industry in a very long time.