Location: 407 Hallowell Road, Pownal
Price:$6.75
Notes: When I imagine the shops that are in my regular lunchtime rotation, none of them bring me to Pownal. That’s all about to change. Located on Route 9, just a short stretch from Bradbury Mountain State Park, and ten minutes from the outlets in Freeport, the big red barn with the formal black sign contains a treasure trove of delightful lunchtime options. In addition to the sandwich offerings handwritten in chalk on the large blackboards that make up the restaurant’s menus, there are rotating daily specials which include soup, chili, and specialty sandwiches, as well as a counter full of baked goods and desserts, such as the carrot cake muffins and panna cotta that were on sale today.

Though Edna and Lucy’s has a large, inviting, dining room filled with warm wood and sunlight, I chose to take my roast beef sandwich to go. The first thing that really delighted me was the sandwich’s packaging, wrapped first in wax, then brown paper, secured with a rubber band and topped with a sour-yet-spicy pickle wrapped in paper. Such thoughtful packaging can only reflect well on the sandwich within, and unwrapping the layers, I was overcome with the anticipation usually reserved for the receipt of an expensive present.

The balance of the roast beef sandwich at Edna and Lucy’s is amazing. Roast beef sandwiches are usually pretty gruesome affairs; stinky sandwiches piled high with six inches of bleeding roast beef, completely overpowering the other elements of the sandwich and leaving only the overwhelming flavor of flesh and mustard behind.

This sandwich couldn’t have been further from other roast beef sandwiches I have tried. A generous portion of roast beef is balanced beautifully by thin slices of cucumber, onion, and tomato, which lend a lightness and freshness to the sandwich that surprised me, and that I really enjoyed. The juices from the vegetables combined with with ample application of light, creamy horseradish sauce, making for a satisfyingly messy sandwich that never felt too intense. The bread, a dense, housemade oatmeal, stood up to the onslaught of the ingredients within.

Edna and Lucy’s is producing well thought-out twists on classic sandwiches, using as many homemade ingredients as possible. I look forward to trying their twist on the classic Maine Italian sandwich; their version stacks tomatoes, black onions, and provolone on top of capicola. Every sandwich on the menu seems like an opportunity to try a new twist on something familiar, and I am looking forward to visiting Pownal again, the next time I’m strapped for lunch ideas.

So, anyway, I was at Hacienda Pancho Villa two Saturdays ago for Cinco de Mayo. I was there with my family, soaking up the authentic Mexican ambience. I placed a risky order, as I sometimes do, just for kicks. And this one happened to pay off. In cream sauce. Their chicken in chipotle cream sauce was pretty in pink with an abundance of meaty mushrooms. It was surprisingly spicy and rich and none of us could stop eating it. I knew this was a dish I should recreate at home. I still think chipotle is smoky sweet and fabulous, though it has become somewhat ubiquitous. (Isn’t McDonald’s offering it as a dipper with their nugget reboot? You go, girl). Here we have a kind of a Tex-Mex stroganoff. Does that make you like it better or worse? It’s terrific, honestly. It’s comfort food. You can serve it over rice, or as tacos, tucked into flour tortillas. Buen Provecho.

Chicken in Chipotle Cream Sauce

 Ingredients:

• 3 boneless, skinless chicken breasts
• 2 tablespoons vegetable oil, divided
• Salt and pepper
• 1/2 a 7 oz can chipotle in adobo (whole peppers and sauce)
• 2 large garlic cloves
• 1/2 cup milk
• 1/2 white or yellow onion, sliced
• 8 oz white button mushrooms, sliced
• 1 teaspoon flour
• 1/4 cup sour cream
• Flour tortillas

Method:

Whiz chipotles and adobo sauce with garlic and milk in a food processor. Cook seasoned chicken breasts over medium heat in 1 tablespoon vegetable oil; remove to a plate and shred into big pieces. Add the other teaspoon of oil to the pan and saute onions and mushrooms, approximately 10 minutes. Return roughly shredded chicken to the pan and turn down the heat. Add the flour and stir for one-two minutes, then pour in the chipotle mixture. Increase the heat and bring to a boil; let the mixture simmer and reduce. Turn off the heat and stir in the sour cream. Serve with a side of refried beans.

Every Summer, we would throw a barbecue, inviting fifty or sixty people to stand around our 150 square foot “yard” to eat round after round of barbecued meat. Preparations for these events would always begin early; in the week before, Fresh Direct deliveries 10 boxes strong would begin to pile up in the living room, as Matt and I scrambled to build MP3 playlists and find serving vessels large enough to contain ten pounds of potato salad. The day before the party, I would start mass-producing deviled eggs in ghastly quantities, boiling ten dozen eggs and piping sulfury deviled yolk out of a heavy gallon-sized ziplock bag with the corner cut off. Inevitably, half of them would go uneaten at the party the next day, because, well, gross.

The deviled eggs I would make for that party were the kind my mom used to make: heavy on the mayonnaise, with a touch of dijon, maybe a spoonful of horseradish, and a sprinkle of paprika for color. They’re perfectly serviceable, picnic-style deviled eggs, good for serving with a dried-out hamburger or a few hotdogs on a Saturday afternoon where the focus of the day is not on food, but on being outside with people you love. Preparing them in such large quantities, however, left me feeling pretty turned off by the whole idea.

I haven’t given deviled eggs a lot of thought until recently, when I learned that The Spotted Pig in the West Village was serving them as a bar snack. Their version is light on the mayo, and uses a finish of good, fruity olive oil, a sprinkle of chives, and a few red pepper flakes and sea salt for crunch.  These aren’t at all the deviled eggs I am used to, with a smooth, buttery, fluffy yolk, a slight pickled flavor, and plenty of spice from the dijon mustard. These deviled eggs are ridiculously easy to eat by the half-dozen, particularly with a cold pint of beer.

Ready to reconsider what I thought I knew about deviled eggs thanks to this gastropub version of the classic, I wanted to also work on some somewhat lower-brow versions. That’s the great thing about deviled eggs; you can tailor them to your event, or to your crowd. I would serve The Spotted Pig-style eggs to my mom, or to my old friend Matt, while we sipped fine cocktails and chatted on the porch. The others are novelties, prepared in the more traditional mayonnaise-heavy way, but with some surprise ingredients, like Buffalo wing sauce, celery, and blue cheese, or a BLT-inspired version that uses mayonnaise made from filtered bacon fat. Serve these for a football game, or at any function where red Solo cups seem like the only party supply you’ll need.

Gastropub-Style Deviled Eggs
Makes about 16 deviled egg-halves; Adapted from a recipe on Serious Eats

Ingredients:

• 1 dozen large eggs
• 2 tablespoons mayonnaise
• 1 tablespoon dijon mustard
• 2 teaspoons white wine vinegar
• 1/2 teaspoon Frank’s Red Hot sauce
• 1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil, divided
• Kosher salt
• Freshly ground black pepper
• 3 tablespoons thinly sliced chives
• Crushed red pepper, ground cayenne, or hot paprika
• Crunchy sea salt or Kosher salt

Method:

1. In a large saucepan, cover eggs with cold water. Over high heat, bring water to a boil, then cover, remove from heat, and let stand for ten minutes. Drain eggs, and peel under cool running water. Slice each egg in half lengthwise.
2. Push yolks into the bowl of a food processor. Choose 16 of the best looking deviled egg halves, There are always a few duds, and besides, we want to pipe lots of yolk into each deviled egg. Discard the remaining 8 egg whites. Add mayonnaise, mustard, vinegar, and hot sauce to food processor, and whirl until smooth, scraping down the sides of the bowl as needed.
3. With food processor running, slowly drizzle in two tablespoons of olive oil. Season to taste with salt, and transfer to Ziplock bag with the corner cut off, or pastry bag with decorative tip.
4. Pipe filling mixture into egg whites, overfilling each. Drizzle with remaining olive oil, sprinkle with chives, crushed red pepper, and sea salt. Serve immediately.

Buffalo-Style Deviled Eggs
Makes about 16 deviled egg-halves

Ingredients:

• 1 dozen large eggs
• 2 celery stalks, finely chopped
• 2 tablespoons mayonnaise
• 2 tablespoons crumbled bleu cheese
• 1/2 cup Frank’s Red Hot
• Additional bleu cheese crumbles and celery to garnish

Method:

1. In a large saucepan, cover eggs with cold water. Over high heat, bring water to a boil, then cover, remove from heat, and let stand for ten minutes. Drain eggs, and peel under cool running water. Slice each egg in half lengthwise.
2. Choose 16 of the best looking deviled egg halves, There are always a few duds, and besides, we want to pipe lots of yolk into each deviled egg. Discard the remaining 8 egg whites. In a large bowl, combine egg yolks, chopped celery, mayonnaise, bleu cheese crumbles, and hot sauce. Mash with a fork and stir well to combine. Transfer to Ziplock bag with the corner cut off, or pastry bag with decorative tip.
3. Pipe filling mixture into egg whites, overfilling each. Garnish with additional bleu cheese and celery. Serve immediately.

BLT-Inspired Deviled Eggs
Makes about 16 deviled egg-halves

Ingredients:

• 1 dozen large eggs
• 1/2 cup bacon fat mayonnaise (recipe follows)
• 6 slices thickly sliced bacon, cooked and crumbled
• 6 cherry tomatoes, seeded and chopped
• 2 tablespoons fresh parsley, chopped
• Salt and pepper, to taste

Method:

1. In a large saucepan, cover eggs with cold water. Over high heat, bring water to a boil, then cover, remove from heat, and let stand for ten minutes. Drain eggs, and peel under cool running water. Slice each egg in half lengthwise.
2. Choose 16 of the best looking deviled egg halves, There are always a few duds, and besides, we want to pipe lots of yolk into each deviled egg. Discard the remaining 8 egg whites. In a large bowl, combine egg yolks, mayonnaise,  bacon, tomatoes, parsley, salt, and pepper. Mash with a fork and stir well to combine. Transfer to Ziplock bag with the corner cut off, or pastry bag with decorative tip.
3. Pipe filling mixture into egg whites, overfilling each. Garnish with additional bacon crumbles. Serve immediately.

Bacon Fat Mayonnaise
Adapted from a recipe by Zingerman’s Guide to Better Bacon

Ingredients:

• 5 egg yolks
• 1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
• 7 teaspoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
• 3/4 cups rendered bacon fat, filtered through a coffee filter and cool, but still liquid, mixed with 1/2 cup vegetable oil
• 1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt

Put the egg yolks, mustard, and 1 1/2 teaspoons of the into a food processor, and pulse until well combined.

Add the bacon fat and oil mixture in a slow stream, whirring the food processor until the mixture is thick. Depending on how thick and rich you like your mayonnaise, you may or may not need the entire amount of fat.

Slowly blend in the remaining lemon juice, sea salt and pepper, whirring it continuously throughout. Adjust the seasoning to taste. The mayonnaise keeps for a couple of weeks in the refrigerator.

Buttermilk Pudding Cakes
Adapted from a recipe in The Lee Bros. Simple Fresh Southern: Knockout Dishes with Down-Home Flavor

Ingredients:

• 3/4 cup sifted all-purpose flour
• 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
• 2 large eggs
• 3/4 cup buttermilk
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 6 tablespoons, plus 1 teaspoon sugar
• 1/2 stick unsalted butter, melted and cooled to room temperature
• Nonstick cooking spray
• 1 pint strawberries, sliced
• Whipped cream

Method:

Preheat oven to 425 degrees F with rack positioned in the top third of the oven. Sift together flour and baking powder in a large bowl. In another large bowl whisk eggs, pour in buttermilk, vanilla, 5 tablespoons plus one teaspoon sugar, and butter. Slowly stir in the dry ingredients until the batter is smooth and well-combined. Prepare your baking gear  – muffin tins or mini bundt pants – and fill the cups 3/4 full with batter. Bake for nine minutes. Check the edges for an even doneness. Check every minute after until the sides of the cakes are nicely browned. (Mine took eleven minutes). Combine sliced strawberries with one tablespoon of sugar. Once the cakes are cooled, invert them onto plates, top with berries and cream.

Make this special menu this Sunday for the wonderful mothers in your life. Happy weekend.

Spring Brunch Menu

Asparagus Soup
Spinach and Gruyere Strata
Buttermilk Pudding Cakes

A strata is a casserole – or savory bread pudding – layered with bread, eggs, and cheese. You can include a meat, such as ham or sausage, or keep it vegetarian, as I have done here. I had to agree with Malcolm that bacon would have been splendid in this one. You can easily prep everything early the day before you want to make it, store each component in separate containers, and put it all together before going to bed. It will nicely follow yesterday’s asparagus soup.

Spinach and Gruyere Strata
Adapted from Gourmet

Ingredients:

• 10 oz frozen spinach, thawed in cheesecloth and squeezed until dry
• 1 leek, white and light green parts only, finely chopped
• 3 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 8 cups of hearty bread or bagels, cut into 1-inch cubes
• 6 oz Gruyere, grated
• 2 oz Parmesan, grated
• 9 eggs
• 2 cups milk
• 2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
• Nutmeg, salt and black pepper

Method:

In a large skillet, saute the leeks in butter over medium heat until soft, about five to eight minutes. Whisk together eggs, milk, and mustard, season with salt and pepper. In a buttered casserole dish arrange the bread. Lay leeks atop the spinach on top of the bread and then sprinkle with cheese. Pour in the egg mixture and grate nutmeg over the entire dish. Cover and pop in the fridge for at least eight hours before cooking. Remove from the fridge while you preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Bake uncovered for 45-55 minutes, until golden brown and puffy.

I really want to throw a party. A late morning party. With amazing food and copious drinks and inspiring conversation. I want to imbibe mint juleps and rhubarb sangria until the entire company is well past tipsy. We’ll sit outside in the overgrown garden and eat unfancy food from mismatched floral petal plates. I’ve made a menu plan, which I will outline below. A Spring brunch menu should be neither light nor heavy. Yuu never know when the weather will turn sour and you will want a comforting cup of soup or warming beverage while it rains.

First up, asapragus soup – nutty, creamy, fresh and exceedingly green. It is rich with butter and cream – you only need a taste.  Roasting half the asparagus makes it extra wonderful.

Asparagus Soup
Adapted from a Cook’s Illustrated recipe

Ingredients:

• 3 lbs asparagus, woody ends removed
• 5 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 2 leeks, white and light green parts only, chopped
• 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
• 4 cups chicken stock
• 1/2 cup heavy cream
• Salt and pepper, to taste
• 1 tablespoon lemon juice

Method:

Step 1. Preheat the broiler and move an oven rack up to the top third of the oven. In a medium-size soup pot melt one tablespoon of butter. Arrange half the bunch of asparagus on a baking sheet, toss with melted butter, and broil for five minutes, until they just begin to wilt.

Step 2. Dice up the rest of the asparagus spears into pea-sized pieces. Melt the remaining butter in the pot, add leeks and saute until translucent, five to eight minutes. Stir in the flour until well combined with the buttery leeks. Continue stirring and pour in the chicken stock.

Step 3. Increase the heat to high and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer, three to five minutes. Add all of the asparagus to the simmering broth. Turn the heat down to medium-low and cook uncovered, about five minutes.

Step 4. Blend. Either puree the soup in a blender in batches, or use an immersion blender right in the pot (removed from the heat source). When the soup is smooth, pour in the cream and slowly heat on low. Season with salt, black pepper and lemon juice. Serve immediately.

Unlike more traditional pizzas, where you run the risk of pulling all of the cheese and toppings off of your slice in one gigantic cheesy mass on the very first bite, the Trenton tomato pie places its emphasis on the tomatoes. As regular readers know, we believe that before a pizza place can be celebrated for putting mashed potatoes or Thai satay-marinated chicken on their pies, it’s important to show competency with the humble plain cheese slice. That careful balance of crust, cheese, and tomato seems to be one of the trickiest to pull off, and is too often glossed over in favor of using flashier ingredients.

Not so on the Trenton tomato pie, where crushed tomatoes are placed front and center over a latticework of mozzarella cheese. The cheese bakes directly onto the thin crust, cooked at a high heat so that it crisps while remaining chewy, and preventing any of that dreaded topping slippage. The tomato sauce, a coarsely pureed mixture of San Marzano tomatoes (and ideally, nothing else), is applied in heavy dollops, so that each bite is a little different. The goal isn’t to have even amounts of sauce and cheese in each bite; on a Trenton tomato pie, big bursts of acidic sweetness from the chunky tomato sauce are perfectly balanced with stretchy tendrils of mozzarella cheese on a lightly charred crust. The round pie is traditionally cut into squares using a knife, resulting in uneven, differently-sized shapes.

The style, pioneered by Trenton’s own “Papa’s Tomato Pies” (which also holds claim to being the oldest continually-run pizza restaurant in the country) and “De Lorenzo’s Tomato Pies,” is one of the oldest in the country, and unless you are willing to make the pilgrimage to New Jersey, one of the toughest to taste for yourself. Until now.

Trenton Tomato Pie
Makes two large pizzas

Ingredients:

• 3 3/4 cups all purpose flour (plus more for dusting, shaping dough)
• 2 teaspoons salt
• 1/4 teaspoon active dry yeast
• 1 1/2 cups water
• 2 cups part skim shredded mozzarella cheese
• 1 14-ounce can San Marzano tomatoes, whole peeled

Method:

Whisk flour, salt, and yeast in a big mixing bowl. Use a wooden spoon to gradually incorporate water. Mix by hand and form into a ball. Transfer to a clean bowl, cover with plastic and let rest in a warm spot for eighteen hours. It will double in size, and bubbles will develop. Transfer the dough to a floured work surface, and divide into two equal portions. Fold each dough ball over on itself, seam side down, and let it rest for an hour under a damp kitchen towel.

Place pizza stone in oven on top rack, in topmost position, and preheat at your oven’s highest setting for one hour. Ours maxes out at 550 degrees.

Pulse tomatoes in a food processor until nearly smooth, with some chunks remaining, about 4-5 one second pulses.

Sprinkle cornmeal on your work surface, and roll dough out to approximately 1/8 – 1/4 inch.

Top each pizza with 1 cup of the cheese, leaving plenty of dough showing through. You do not want an even blanket of cheese on this type of pizza.

Use a spoon to dollop tomato sauce onto pizza surface, again leaving space between each spoonful.

Use pizza peel to transfer pizza to hot stone. Set oven to “broil” on high.

Watch your pizza carefully; it should only take 4-6 minutes to cook. Some blistering and blackening is good. Cut into squares and serve.

Notes: Though it may have been invented in Philadelphia, this sandwich mentally transports me to Atlantic City in the Wintertime, when the frozen gray boardwalk is all but abandoned and the only sound is the endless hum coming from the shimmering Trump casino, its tables filled with gambling Korean tourists.  The salty, garlicky, slightly bitter broccoli rabe oozes onto the sliced roast pork, the heat from the vegetables melting the provolone cheese into a satisfyingly drippy mess.

To save time, we use roast pork from the supermarket deli counter, sliced thickly. You’ll only get about 8 slices per one-pound order, but it beats heating up the kitchen by cooking an entire pork roast. Most of the flavor in this sandwich comes from the broccoli rabe, anyway, first blanched briefly to cut the bitterness (and keep the vegetable’s bright green color), then sauteed with plenty of garlic and red pepper flakes.

Garlicky Broccoli Rabe & Roasted Pork
Makes one sandwich

Ingredients:

• 1/2 bunch broccoli rabe (called rapini in some supermarkets)
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 4 cloves garlic
• 1 teaspoon red pepper flakes
• 2 slices thick-cut deli pork loin
• 1 slice Provolone cheese
• 1 Portuguese roll, split
• 2 tablespoons butter
• 1 teaspoon mayonnaise (optional)

Method:

Bring a pot of water to a boil over high heat. Trim ends off of broccoli rabe and discard. Roughly chop flowered ends into large pieces. Blanche broccoli rabe in boiling water for one minute, then drain and transfer to a bowl of ice water to stop cooking. Remove from ice water, and shake off extra water.

In a nonstick skillet over medium heat, combine olive oil, garlic, and red pepper. Saute for one minute, or until garlic begins to turn golden. Add broccoli rabe and saute until all liquid evaporates, about five minutes. Remove broccoli rabe with tongs and set aside.

In the same pan, quickly splash the two slices of pork until heated through, turning often, about a minute total. Meanwhile, spread the two halves of the split roll with butter, and toast cut side-down in a separate skillet until golden brown. Remove roll to a plate, and pile the bottom half of the roll with the hot pork, then the sliced cheese. Top with the hot broccoli rabe, and the top of the roll (spread with mayo, if desired).

1. Spicy Mushroom and Chorizo Tacos
2. Enfrijoladas de Pollo
3. Atlantic Baja-Style Fish Tacos
4. Hamburgers al Pastor
5. Tomatillo Lamb Tacos with Fresh Salsa Mexicana
6. Huevos Rancheros with Chorizo Refried Beans
7. Frijoles Charros
8. Cochinita Pibil

Looking for more inspiration? Click here for our full list of our favorite Mexican-inspired recipes!

It was almost gone for good. In 2011, a few months after the death of his wife and partner June, Bob Frost closed up shop after forty-five years in business. New to the area last summer, we knew nothing of the history of this beloved landmark. We never broke our fast after an all-nighter on their glazed twists or passed a freezing winter morning reading religious tracts and sipping drip coffee warm inside.

Malcolm: I was drawn immediately to the Frosty’s facade when we first spotted it last year, the red plastic letters of the sign eye-catching anachronisms along Maine Street’s parade of slightly crunchy, Earthy storefronts. My first thought was that I wanted to purchase the empty restaurant and reopen it as a sandwich shop; a move, I can see now in retrospect, that would have resulted in my being promptly stoned to death by Frosty’s legion of loyal customers. And rightly so.

We were strolling downtown late last summer, looking for a place to breakfast with out-of-town friends, when we saw the sign. “Closed due to a death in the family + for sale,” the legend read. We were intrigued. We peered through the glass into the darkened doughnut shop, and marveled at wood-paneled walls and spare, Mid-Century booths. A rust-red, pointy roofed edifice with a striped awning and jaunty lettering, it looked like a storybook building where the butcher and candlestick maker could come for a hot cup of joe and a sweet bite to eat before they began each day, working their knives and lathes. Was it the end or only the beginning? By winter we had our answer.

Another husband and wife team have taken up where the Frosts left off. Nels Omdal and Shelby St. Andre bought the place, and started selling doughnuts and coffee again there this winter. We chatted briefly with Shelby, who told us business is good. We saw that for ourselves, as almost every booth was filled with customers, mostly older couples, who all looked happy and just where they ought to be. We decided to start with a half dozen, and see if that would be enough. A glazed. A cinnamon sugar cake. A Boston creme. A jelly filled. A chocolate coconut. A chocolate glazed. All neatly packed in a white bakery box with red printing.

Malcolm: Every single one of these donuts stands head and shoulders above the kind of bready, chemically-flavored, overly-sweetened round cakes you’ll find at competing local doughnut chains. While the chocolate glazed and the granulated sugared-jelly donuts were delicious, the old fashioned glazed doughnut was simply remarkable. It’s a doughnut so light and airy, that once you have picked it up, the doughnut has already started to collapse under the lightest pressure of your fingers. As much as I loved the other varieties, the simple glazed doughnut at Frosty’s is the only donut anyone needs. It is a revelation, that should be eaten early and often.

Frosty’s famously opens at four am. I love knowing that they’re there in the dark. In December when the trees sparkle with icicles and the silent streets are not yet unplowed, and in summer when in the quiet cool of the early morning, a person can collect her thoughts and prepare for the day ahead. I love thinking about the students who have studied all night, the elderly who can no longer sleep, the policemen and construction workers and nurses whose days begin and end at dawn, and frazzled new parents with unbrushed hair who’ve been up all night with a fussing baby who has decided that sleep is for the birds. Frosty’s is a safe haven of the early hours. If you must be to work or can’t take another momemt alone in your home, it is there, providing comfort, caffeine and sweetness. It’s a timeless neighborhood place in an ever-changing college town. I hope we’ll meet you there.