Varmint

Don't fight it . . . be proud of your curmudgeonness (does such a word exist?)!! And by the way, I have little doubt they'll get the desserts worked out just fine.

Kathleen, just for you: J - E - T - S JETS, JETS, JETS!!! At least you're not a Packers' fan. Since you're hung over, it might be time for a simple pasta dish tonight. Hang in there, and just shut the door when you need to take a nap.

I just wanted to refer folks to this post, which contains some pictures from an eGullet Society dinner at Enoteca Vin a little over a year ago.

Ashley Christensen, chef of Raleigh’s Enoteca Vin, is H-O-T -- hot. And before you start accusing me of being a sexist pig, I’ll even say that she’s red hot. Her restaurant was featured in a multi-page spread in Food and Wine, she’s been hired as the consulting chef at Nana’s Chophouse in the Warehouse District, she’s looking to open another restaurant, and she recently cooked at the James Beard House for a wine dinner. Frankly, there’s just not enough of Ashley Christensen to go around, so to dispute that she's a hot commodity is dead wrong. Another couple joined us for a late dinner at Vin on a recent Friday (we locals just drop the “Enoteca” part of the name, and we mispronounce it, too, to rhyme with “Win”). Several years ago, I claimed Vin to be a solid, but not excellent restaurant. I thought the cuisine was too predictable, too simplistic. I changed my views over time as Christensen fully blossomed as a chef (and I became a better informed diner). She has always been an avid proponent of sourcing the best local ingredients, but she hadn’t yet cultivated enough relationships to get the best stuff for every dish. Moreover, I think she just hadn’t grown as a chef to the point where she was willing to take chances, to explore new ideas, to boldly go where . . . . well, you get the point. Those days are long gone by, and frankly, I now put Ashley Christensen at a level equal to the best chefs in the Southeast. The cuisine at Vin will never dazzle you with complexity as you might see with Ben Barker's food at Magnolia Grill or William D'Auvray's style at Fins. In fact, when I eat Christensen's food, I'm reminded more of Tom Colicchio of New York's Craft and Gramercy Tavern than any other chef – bold, pure flavors where the ingredients complement each other. The focus is on the product and technique, and she's careful not to muck things up. Sure, she puts together flavor combinations that are unique, but again, her touch is restrained. So, let's talk about that food. If you want to get to the extreme of simplicity, order a plate of charcuterie that is listed on the menu as "Meat Plate," and you'll get five piles of the best cured meats that can be obtained in North Carolina, sliced so thin they're actually translucent: bresaola, finocchiona, mortadella, prosciutto di San Danielle and Petit Jesu. Add some bread and the house olive oil, a peppery, dark and flavorful elixir, and you have a meal right there. But meat plates have nothing to do with the talent in the kitchen (but they certainly reflect a commitment to quality), so ordering one of the several appetizers will give you a better idea of what Vin can do. A spicy kabocha squash soup brings out several different flavors and textures: the sweetness of the squash is further enhanced with coconut but is tempered with the earthiness of braised lamb, served atop a very crunchy (perhaps overly so) crouton. Spicy, sweet, earthy, crunchy – but still very pure in the flavors. I'm not sure if a current restaurant decorum allows a menu without a raw fish dish, so Christensen offers an ahi tartare paired with heirloom tomatoes and a spicy aioli. It's a tasty dish that offers a refined twist to the typical raw fish dishes found today. It's also possible to get simple dishes, such as lighter than light deviled eggs (better than my, or probably anyone's grandmother's), anchovies with fried capers and white beans, or some chicken liver pate, all of which I've tried at some point. I'm not even an anchovy fan, but these were delicious – light, tender and just enough "fishiness" to balance the astringency of the capers. Served with the white beans, it's a great match. Entrees really shine. I had what could be the best roast chicken of my life at Vin. This bird was not brined, it was not marinated or injected. It comes from a local producer, was gently roasted, and has more flavor and unctuousness (is that a word) than any free range, organic hen that I've made or been served. The crispiness of the skin was more like what one finds with duck, with the subcutaneous fat transformed into air-filled crunch. Christensen served the chicken with local beauregard sweet potatoes and very flavorful and rich braised collards – with the pot liquor acting as the base of the sauce. Fortunately, Christensen has informed me that she can help me get a few of these chickens, so I can see if I can make something close to what is served at Vin. My wife had the seared day boat scallops which were accompanied with roasted tomatoes and leeks and a potato brandade. One of my dining mates ordered "the salmon." Well, "the salmon" was this humongous slab of pan roasted Coho salmon served with truffled corn and hedgehog mushrooms. The last dish we tried was quite interesting – the menu referred to it as cassoulet, but I would regard this as a loose interpretation of the classic dish of Southwest France. This cassoulet was made with lentils and three types of pork: homemade pork sausage (redolent of garlic), pork tenderloin, and braised pork belly. This was one of those dishes that I hate and am glad I didn't order it – no, not because it wasn't good (it was great), but because I'd find myself getting halfway through it, feeling completely stuffed, but simultaneously compelled to finish it all. It's one of those dishes you can't stop eating, leaving you uncomfortably full, albeit with a smile on your face. I am not a wine person. I do not go to restaurants to try wines, as I focus on the food. However, Vin is the restaurant where I first learned how a great pairing of food and wine can truly enhance the overall taste experience. Thus, I need to take a time out and describe the wine service at Vin. Well, the name of the restaurant is redundant when using both Enoteca and Vin, so it's clear that there is a strong emphasis on wine here, and the wine service does not disappoint. Vin's co-owner, Chrish Peel, is the man behind the wine selections, and he just happens to be the owner of what many consider to be the finest wine store in the Southeast, Carolina Wine Company. Vin offers over 50 different wines by the glass, in different volumes of pours (1.5, 3 and 5 ounces). This makes it easy to match wines with the food at an affordable price. We were able to sample a 1996 Pol Roger Reserve champagne, which was brilliant (and goes perfectly with deviled eggs). We also had a 1996 Antonio Vallana Boca, a nebbiolo-based wine that was filled with earthy flavors (and was a steal at $39 a bottle). We also tried a 1999 Sesti Brunello di Montalcino, which was a surprising simple, but flavorful wine (and not as good of a value as the Vallana). Vin has a great new sommelier (or is he an assistant sommelier, with Chrish Peel being the big cheese?), and I can't recall his name. He's incredibly affable, helpful, and a total asset to the restaurant. I wish I could say the same about Vin's new pastry chef, Erik Akbari. Ashley Christensen used to be in charge of the desserts, but Vin recently brought on Akbari as its full-time pastry chef. The desserts Akbari produces sound great in concept, but two of the three we sampled were disappointing. A banana cream pie served with peanut caramel is actually a small banana tart, but it had almost no banana flavor whatsoever. The peanut caramel was overly bitter, as if the caramel had been burned a bit. A plum sorbet appears simple in concept, but Akbari adds an unnecessary amount of herbs and spices to the mixture, ultimately muddling the plum flavors. A bourbon pecan tart served with malted milk ice cream was a winner, as here Akbari did not attempt to go too far with experimentation. Ultimately, it appears that Akbari's focus is the exact opposite of what Christensen is trying to do – he does too much, obscuring the primary flavors, while Christensen works to enhance those. Hopefully, over time, the desserts will be on a similar plane as the savory courses. We are lucky to have Ashley Christensen's talents here in Raleigh. Go to Vin now, before the lure of the big city pulls this North Carolina native away. Now I need to go pick up my chickens before Christensen recants her offer!

Michael Ruhlman in the "So you want to write a cookbook" discussion indicated that he rarely used recipes, with some exceptions: I responded by saying, Michael wanted to know more about corned ham, so I've started a discussion here on this. I don't know the complete history of corned ham, but I had it last winter for the first time at Chapel Hill's Crook's Corner. The chef at Crook's, my friend Bill Smith, informed me that corned ham was a traditional holiday dish in Eastern North Carolina (he's from New Bern, NC). It's characterized by its simplicity: salt is packed in and around a whole ham for a couple of weeks. No added seasonings, just salt. When I tasted this at Crook's, it was pork crack. The small amount I ate was so rich, so pure, that I thought I'd never taste a bit of pork as perfect as this. It made such an impression on me that Bill has agreed to make one for me this Christmas. I intend to gain a lot of weight this winter. Here's Bill's recipe that I've adapted from his new cookbook, Seasoned in the South: Recipes from Crook's Corner and from Home : One whole, fresh ham (about 20 pounds) One to two pounds of salt Rinse and dry the ham. Cut incisions in the meat at each place where a bone protrudes from the ham. Pack the cuts with salt and then then coat the entire ham with a thin layer of salt. Place the ham in a stainless steel or glass container, cover, and refrigerate for a minimum of eleven days up to a maxiumum of three weeks. Two weeks is the norm. Be sure to turn the ham from time to time, pouring off any juice that may have leached out, and re-rub any bare patches with salt. The day before cooking the ham, wash it, rinse out the salt pockets, and soak in cold water overnight. Drain and dry the ham. Place in a roasting pan on a rack. Cover and bake at 325 degrees for 20 to 25 minutes per pound (yes, it'll take awhile) until a thermometer reads 160 degrees at the bone. Remove cover, increase oven temperature to 375, and cook for 15 minutes more to brown the top. Let rest an hour before slicing.

Allen & Son (only one son) is in that "in-between" zone where Eastern and Western styles converge. When Keith Allen's cooking is on, this barbecue is an excellent way to introduce folks to NC barbecue. The meat is flavorful, with a touch of vinegar and red pepper. It has just enough fat cut into it. But it's really hard to say it's Eastern or Western, but then, I only care that it's good. The one problem with Allen & Son is that sometimes the barbecue isn't as good as it should be (I'd say about 25% of the time). In part I attribute this to the fact that Keith Allen still splits his green hickory logs by hand and it's all cooked the old-fashioned way. This is one of the reasons you find traditional, wood-cooked barbecue more difficult to locate: it's incredibly labor-intensive and it doesn't provide great quality control. Batch variations inevitably occur. This is why there's been a trend to use commercial smokers lately, and although these help eliminate variability in quality, the best barbecue from a smoker can't touch the best barbecue cooked directly over the wood.

To steal from Dr. Seuss and his How the Grinch Stole Christmas, Romance comes without candles, it comes without foie, It comes without oysters, even when raw You can puzzle three hours until your puzzler is sore But you'll realize something that you hadn't before. Maybe romance, perhaps, doesn't come from the place, Maybe romance, that's right, comes from her face! What I'm trying to say is that any restaurant, even Gray's Papaya or Applebee's, has the potential to be romantic. It's the couple, not the restaurant! Any time I get some quiet time with Mrs. Varmint is just fine with me.

When it comes down to traditional romantic restaurants, you'll do very well at the Fearrington House. I truly think you should find a great sitter to watch the children overnight and get a room at the Inn, too. Granted, that makes a pricey evening into a downright expensive one, but this way you can let the wine flow without worrying about a drive. Engines might roar, but of a different type, of course. Magnolia Grill is not all that romantic, but the food is so good that it certainly makes me lustful! Nana's and Four Square are also good choices. Lantern could be a lower priced option -- it's fairly dark, the food is somewhat exotic, and they have good drinks, too. I find Lantern to have a lot of romantic charm. Of course, you could just go to He's Not Here, get a couple of 32 ounce blue cups of cheap beer, and find romance the way you did pre-children!

Help us with your definition of "romantic." That means a lot of different things to different people. If this were an ideal romantic dinner, what would it include? Help us, then we can help you.

He went to the Federal to meet with a local reporter -- he was looking for something casual. That night he and his wife Ellen (and son, PJ) joined Mrs. Varmint and me at Vin. It was a great meal, and I hope to post a complete report later this week.

I can't help you with the shopping, as the large Asian stores are where I go, but if there was a consensus regarding best sushi restaurant in Raleigh, it's arguably Waraji on Duraleigh, close to Glenwood. Phone is (919) 783-1883. Fins is not really an Asian restaurant, but it's one of the top two or three establishments in the Triangle. It's really more of a French restaurant that incorporates a lot of different Asian ingredients into its cuisine. Click here for a description of a meal I had at Fins several months ago.

I'm certainly biased due to my friendship with the author, but Bill Smith's Seasoned in the South: Recipes from Crook's Corner and from Home is not only a solid book of recipes, but more importantly, it's a great read. Bill Smith is the chef of Chapel Hill, NC's landmark restaurant, Crook's Corner. The recipes in the book make you feel as if Bill were standing beside you, instructing as you go along -- very folksy and filled with humorous and helpful anecdotes. But Smith also fills the book with great stories about the people in his life: his line cooks, the old lady who brings him figs and persimmons, his parents, and even Jimmy Carter (a lover of buttermilk, if you didn't know that!). If you get this book you'll certainly learn to cook a bunch of great dishes (the Green Tabasco Chicken is so simple, but damn, it's great), but you'll also think you made a new friend, a man who cares about food and people and the importance of breaking bread together. That's my kind of cookbook.

Great job, Bryan. I hope your parents get down here more often! I know Scott has poured himself back into Nana's since getting out of the Q Shack and Chop House ventures, so this report doesn't surprise me at all.

What about smelt? Are they no longer on the fish fry menus?

Is that actually a tongue???

It sounds like I need to invite Bill over to dinner soon! Thanks for the report.

If the barbecue ends up tasting like the sauce, whether it's viscous and tomato-based or if it's a thin, pepper-laced vinegar, then I don't get it, either. The sauce should NEVER be the dominant flavor. It should complement the flavor of the meat and smokiness. The vinegar in properly prepared NC barbecue helps cut the richness of all that fat that is cut in during the chopping phase.

It's important to know that there are basically three types of grits: instant, quick, and stone-milled. Instant grits are very smooth and despite everyone chastising them, they're not too bad in a pinch. Most of the grits that you'll see folks talking about are your quick grits. They take anywhere from 5 to 20 minutes to cook, depending on how finely they were ground. These have a bit more flavor and texture than the instant grits and have a pretty long shelf life. They're still pretty smooth for the most part. Real, honest to goodness, stone-milled grits are a different creature. If you look at the picture in the Hoppin John Taylor link Brent provided above, you'll see that they appear to be lumpy. Well, they're not really lumpy, but these grits are not of a single size. Some are very fine, some are bigger pieces. It also takes a lot longer to make these grits properly, up to an hour!! But in the end, as the starches are released into a liquid, you end up with a wonderful dish -- far more complex than anything you've had before. And, of course, adding dairy products is always good -- grits need salt and dairy. Enjoy!

I lived in Pennsylvania until I went to college in North Carolina. I did not grow up with barbecue and didn't even know such a food existed until I was a sophomore in Chapel Hill. I didn't "get it" at first, but a few of you probably know that I've learned a few things about barbecue and other southern food over the years. Does my Yankee upbringing disqualify me? Nope. My wife was born and raised in the South and doesn't like barbecue, fatback, or the history of Southern food. She'd make a pretty crappy writer about the stuff. What it takes is a desire to learn -- not just superficially about how foods are made or different restaurants serving Southern food. You need to know why Southern food "is." It's the same thing if you were writing about a Jewish deli in New York -- if you understand the culture and history behind the brisket and bagels, then you've established a base of credibility. But this knowledge is not easily attained -- you have to give it time. Fat Guy is an example of a Yankee who has almost educated himself enough to write authoritatively about barbecue. He's not quite there, but he's talked to the pitmasters and their families. He understands why barbecue became such a staple to Southerners. He overcame his initial disdain of NC barbecue. His writing about barbecue is still a bit too clinical, however, but it wouldn't take much for him to write a barbecue piece that even I would find completely acceptable.

That's my favorite thing to do with it. I usually borrow another and do it 2 handed. ← You mean like this?

Well, let me just pull out my . . . . er, never mind. To get back on topic, I wouldn't try and impress her with wine, but I'd do it with my cooking. The reason for that is as much as I try to learn tons about wines, my horrible memory kills me. I can't remember varietals, vintages and appelations, let alone makers. I look back on my entire life of drinking wine (and I've drunk a lot), and I can't name more than 3 or 4 specific bottles that I've drunk. I can't recall how they tasted, either. However, I can recall every single detail from dozens if not hundreds of meals. Thus, I'd probably get something that I know I like (because it's in my merchant's database), and let her know that I focus on "value" wines that go well with my culinary creations. This will promptly be followed by her rolling her eyes.

I was not around a computer for most of yesterday, but I'm impressed Fat Guy was actually perusing the North Carolina newspapers. Nevertheless, this is another fine piece by Ms. Moose, and this essay is just one of several she's done in her "Sunday Dinner" series. It's a treat to have such a gifted writer close by, and when she can make deviled eggs, too -- Wow!

The classic casserole in my house was chicken and rice, with pieces of chicken throughout the sticky rice that just happened to absorb whatever gooey liquid it was in. I've never really tried to recreate that, which should be very simple. Bechamel, cheese, peas, celery, maybe even some spinach, and I'll have a meal for the family. Thanks for bringing up this topic!

Excellent. This type of project is perfect for the eGullet Society. Our members take something that is relatively ordinary and transform it into something utterly sublime. I can't wait to see the rolls in their appropriate context.

Talk about hanging one's head in shame, I'm doing that right now. I lived in Milwaukee for three years and had a LOT of free time to explore the city's gastronomic wonders (and there are a lot of those, BTW). Regardless, I never even heard of Mazos, let alone ate one of their burgers. I now feel incomplete and must find a way to remedy that deficiency.