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Archive for September, 2008

community, food

September 30, 2008

Snuggle Grub: I Really am in Richmond Magazine

Got home to see the new issue of Dine, from Richmond Magazine and my full page picture. I can hardly believe that they went with my powdered sugar face idea (although it didn’t quite turn my serious gaze snugglie) . If only I’d had a mirror handy, I could have prepared and posed properly. But, whatever. The bit scooped up loads of my favorite eating habits and spread them around the city better than I ever could have hoped to do with this blog. Not too shabby, Megan Marconyac.

From Richmond Mag’s site:

The Fall/Winter Issue of Dine
 Along with this month’s Richmond magazine, we deliver another edition of Dine. The Fall/Winter guide offers a day-by-day list of special dishes that will satisfy your appetite all week long. Also, local experts serve up tips for finding that most interesting glass of wine. And in addition to our menu and restaurant listings, we sniff out some of the region’s tasty and out-of-the-ordinary brunch dishes.


Surely, loads of people will swoon at the thought of “snuggle grub,” as the article is titled and they’ll flock to the various places that are mentioned by the four “local food experts.” Why? Because, while the piece is about the “guilty pleasures” of foodies, it’s also a compilation of well kept secrets where yumminess hides in Richmond. Turn over a rock, and there be food-luvas. Be sure to check it out, as well as the articles on brunch and daily specials (something about wine too, if you’re into that stuff). Maybe I’m biased, but I think this is the best Dine yet (at least up until the part where the mag turns into menu ads and regional dining option listings. But, those can be helpful too.

Now, I’ve got to rack my brain to see what all I blabbed to Megan about and start writing blog posts about those things. After all, it’s winter and time for comfort food. Oh, and I hear my beloved Trader Joe’s is finally open at Short Pump. Time to dust off the cycling shoes.

food, richmond magazine, rowland fine dining

September 26, 2008

I Think I’m Featured In Richmond Mag…

The Dine insert to be specific, but I haven’t seen it. I’m visiting my folks in Arkansas and I just found out that my fellow food-lova’s have gotten their grubby little hands on the local essential eating rag. Richmond magazine’s content is so hot that they can’t put it online. So, I guess I can’t really comment on my newfound infamy stardome, but I can give you some background about the interview and photo shoot.

A month or two ago I was contacted to participate in a Dine feature about “wintertime comfort food.” At first, I was stumped. Comfort food has become too familiar all year round, lately, and this was kind of a sore subject. Nonetheless, I shot some ideas over via email. The Richmond Mag writer, Megan Marconyak wanted to meet up and talk until she had some notes to work with in writing her piece.

Megan and I had lunch at the Phoenician, a favorite for both of us and located conveniently between our two offices. Getting into the topic of wintertime comfort food, I talked about my affinity for frugality (despite my occasional splurges and indulgences), sorta as a preface. Then, I talked about winter time staples, like soup, chili, mac’n'cheese, heavy carbs, Indian buffets, frequent small meals, spicy hot cocoa inspired by the movie Chocolat, heat-creating spices of all kinds, freshly baked goods, and the list goes on. By the end of it, I was amazed at myself. As it turns out, I’m a freakin treasure trove of wintertime comfort food tips. But now, I’d forked over all of my bright ideas for use in this Richmond mag piece and I couldn’t blog about it for risk of stealing Megan’s thunder. If only my blog afforded me a stenographer/consultant who could elicit this much content from me on a regular basis… Oh well. Perhaps, it’s time I revisited whichever tid-bits didn’t make the cut.

Evidently, I told her that I rarely order dessert out. But during the winter, I like to over do it a bit and have something sweet. A favorite of mine for sweets is Rowland Fine Dining and I got a call from a Richmond Magazine photographer requesting to meet me there, so they could get a picture of me eating the mini-muffins that Virginia Rowland bakes and serves for free to each brunch guest. I responded to Megan before the meeting to make sure she understood, RVA Foodie ain’t about “fine dining,” unless there’s an exception. In this case, Virginia Rowland’s baker’s touch provides just the incentive to head over the footbridge from Byrd Park to the Fan to get some desserts or some brunch. I was hoping that she would capture the irony. Still crossing my fingers until I read the thing.

At the photo shoot, I was forced to pose with, and bit into, and chew, and swallow, umpteen mini-muffins. It was absolute torture, let me tell you. These light puffs were warm from the oven and fragrant with bananas, hot brown sugar and topped with a dusting of powdered sugar. After a while, I got kinda bored and started mooshing my face into the plate so I would have a whole bunch of white powder on my lips, nose, and beard. The photographer acted tickled and snapped lots of pics, but eventually he asked me to wipe my face clean so he could continue trying in vain to make me look as good as the mini-muffins. Poor guy. I can’t wait to see how it turned out.

And that my friends is history now. The issue is on the stands and I’m outed as RVA Foodie in hard copy, for the first time (I’m in loads of pictures on this site). Let me know how you think it turned out and I’ll do the same when I get my hands on a copy.

Cheers.

food, verbena

September 24, 2008

We Don’t Belong at Verbena

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For our second wedding anniversary, Karen and I went to Verbena. It was a real treat to get out and leave Jasper in the capable hands of… well, I was ready to hand the little guy over to one of the drunks at the corner store at this point. But, my coworker, Lauren of Feasting on Richmond, graciously stepped up. And, even as Jasper began one of his epic teething meltdowns, we walked out the door and hoofed it down Robinson to the Fan’s dining district, trying to quiet the echoing screeches in our brains.

Jasper says, “I have a way with nonverbal communication.”

The experience at Verbena that night is deserving of one of my best writing efforts. However, I’m back in school again, so I have to ration my rhetoric. Sorry if this comes across like Cliff’s notes. Despite the disclaimer, what follows is an incredible rebound that builds in one direction and then teeters back the other way, resulting in an unexpected landslide (or maybe we were just drunk). Here are the highlights, as best I can recall:

  • We walked in and the hostess tried to seat us right where we stood, virtually in the foyer. Um, no. We would like a booth, anything but this spot where people stand idly over top of us.
  • Then we were lead into the tiny dining room and stuck into a little two-top (because there were two of us, of course) right between two other tables. Seriously cramped.
  • All around us sat over-dressed old money, just short of top hats and ball gowns. We felt totally out of place, dressed only slightly better than we would have for a walk to Carytown. Maybe this is why they didn’t want us in the restaurant proper.
  • The place was packed and everyone was talking. Karen and I couldn’t hear each other. And when the waiter came, he was so tall, that we had to shout and kinda get up out of our chairs to get our voices to his ears up by the ceiling.
  • We looked over the menu and felt competely underwhelmed. The choices were fairly few and so predictable and pretentious. Each item revolved around some culinary buzz word that is supposed to justify the inflated price tag. We asked each other “what do you think?” both unwilling to utter negativity on our honeymoon outing, even though we felt the same way. It was a simmering stalemate. So we gritted our teeth and barely spoke.
  • My drink came out (a rusty nail, as usual) and there was some mistake. I was served a martini glass full of cloudy copper colored liquid. When I questioned the server, he said it was drambouie and dewars (and yup, it tasted about right). I shrugged if off and Karen and I shook our heads at the ridiculousness of turning a normal drink all fru-fru. I wondered how much extra they charged for straining out the ice and the prissy glass.
  • When the server came back to take our order, I threw off my cheapskate mantle (ignoring the $17 cous cous) and suggested we go all out and order one of everything. Karen talked me out of it and we wound up with a soup, a salad, rainbow trout, a cheese plate, and the crab cakes which was the most expensive item on the menu. I wasn’t excited about any of it, but at least we were doing our part to make the best of it.
  • Twenty minutes went by before the $12 cheese plate came out, pissing us both off.
  • By this time, I felt like Jasper getting worked up into a screaming fit that I wouldn’t come back from for hours. I imagined taking a flame thrower to this restaurant. “I’ve got to destroy the restaurant in order to save it.” Okay, meanwhile, outside my brain… back to civil and celebratory conversation.
  • The pieces of cheese looked like miniature scale representations of the product we’d be expected to pay for, like the plate they were served on was being featured over the cheese. At first, our server couldn’t name the cheeses until he went back and got his cheat sheet.
  • Slowly, we nibbled gingerly. Making polite comments. We compared some of them to cheeses we’d had before. We zero’d in on our favorites, trying to make them last. Next thing you know, we’re raving about the whole lot, each declaring cheeses that were possibly all time favorites (I liked the blue. and Karen the camembert)
  • Karen’s cured salmon salad was awesome. We had gravlax at our wedding and this stuff took us back. I had the butternut squash soup. It looked just like Jasper’s special diaper surprise, but neither of us mentioned it. The flavor was great.
  • I ordered another rusty nail and it came out on the rocks this time, kinda small, but tasting right on the money.
  • More time elapsed. Turns out this was a pattern and they were deliberately “pacing” the meal into a two hour ordeal experience that goes along with the whole pretentious price package deal.
  • My $32 crab cakes came out (as did Karen’s trout) and both of us couldn’t believe our eyes. These things were huge, like almost 2″ think, browned on top/bottom and pale and creamy looking along the sides. There was a beurre blanc sauce (butter, fer the rest of yall). The crab and butter combo, together with a creme fraiche topping was amazinginly rich and tasty. We passed this back and forth and could barely finish one of the two crab cakes. Maybe the best we ever had? Except that they were literally too good to eat, seeming to fit the theme of this place.
  • Karen liked her rainbow trout. It came with coconut rice, which I thought was clumpy and broken. There were other accoutrements, but I don’t recall what. I finished the fish even after calling it quits on the crab, so it musta been good (or I’m a cross between Homer Simpson and a garbage disposal).
  • Heading upstairs to the little boys room, I realized that there’s a casual area and bar where you can get the same grub without the pomp. They’ve even got a big TV on the wall, for those who prefer the sportsbar vibe.
  • The desserts sounded great and we found ourselves very excited about alcohol Verbena all of a sudden. But we decided to have dessert at home. The walk back would have been really uncomfortable if we tried to eat anything else.
  • The bill came and I was suprised to see that the drinks were $7 a pop. Not nearly as bad as I thought. At just over 2 hrs, it was definitely time to go home.

“I knew you’d come back. Nope. Not worried at all.”

Somewhere around the end there, we started thinking about our child again. Karen says she was thinking about him the whole time, but not me. The price tag on that meal surpassed our one dinner at 1 North Belmont. No way was I going to spend our one night out doing anything but enjoying it (and it took every effort I could muster to set aside my instincts). Next time, we’ll just head upstairs for bevs and dessert.

As it turned out, Jasper spent a good deal of the time torturing Lauren for some arbitrary reason, like his teething, or her inability to read 5 month old baby minds, and not lactating, etc. But, once his people returned, he perked back up.

(disjointed ending courtesy of Cliff’s notes style hastiness)

food, pesto

A Pesto for All Time


At the end of this growing season, I pulled up an enormous basil plant from my garden and put all the leaves in my food processor with some blanched almonds, garlic, olive oil, and some parmigiano regiano. It made so much that I had to freeze it. To be sure that the pesto would be convenient for future use, I used a couple ice cube trays to make little portions.


I emptied these things into tupperware and forgot about’em. But, when it’s time for pesto pasta, or a hastily made dip for guests, I’m all set. Last year’s batch lasted me almost an entire year.


I think these two approve. What do you think?

chile peppers, community, food

What to do with All These Peppers?

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Ever since going to Mexico on my honeymoon, I’ve been acquiring all these dried chiles. I had the best intentions, but at this point, there is no way that I’ll ever use them all. Can you name all the peppers you see here? Sorry the picture isn’t that good and the plastic baggies don’t help. The real question is, what do I do with them? Make mole sauce? Maybe, but I’d want some help with that. How about a chile cooking party at my place? Invite yourself over and we’ll fix up a bunch of spicy grub.

Jasper says, “I dare you to eat them.”


For two years running, I have planted poblano peppers in the hopes of becoming a Byrd Park’s version of Booby Flay. But alas, my four plants over two years have only produced two (pathetically small) peppers total (always at the end of the season, mind you). Anybody care to explain that one? Maybe mother nature just didn’t want me to do this with those poblanos.

books, chop suey, sale

September 19, 2008

A Sale You Can’t Pass Up

Maybe it was because I spent my formative years running amok in my mother’s bookstore in San Francisco, but I love to browse in book stores and, if the price is right, bring loads of them home. Or maybe it’s because I was renting a house in the 1300 block of W. Cary Street when Chop Suey first opened in 2001, a stones throw from my porch (no, Ward, I didn’t throw any stones).

It’s bitte sweet to see Chop Suey leaving the Fan/VCU outpost. At this moment, the books are 50% off of the price listed on the inside cover (used books are usually at least half of the cover price). So, that’s basically a 75% off sale. The real kicker is the sheer number of books they’ve still got left to sell. Ward is a shrewd and discerning “book man” and he acquired great stuff. Alas, the inventory isn’t all going to fit in their expanded Carytown location and so its been given the red-sticker eviction notice. Bully for those of us who love books!

From the Chop Suey chefs:

After almost 7 years at the original Chop Suey location, it is time for us to close the doors for good and move west. On September 30th, we will close the doors at 1317 West Cary Street for the last time. However, this sad event will coincide with the expansion of Chop Suey Tuey at 2913 West Cary Street. We are currently renovating the upstairs, and will soon fill it with great used books. We have also constructed a gallery and reading space, and will be expanding our hours. So while we are sad to leave the building that gave us not only our name but also our reputation as a community centered store with great, inexpensive books, we are excited to offer Richmond and larger and rejuvenated bookstore in the heart of Carytown.

For the next 2 weeks, all books at Chop Suey Books will be discounted severely. They are all 50% off right now, but the discount will keep increasing until all of the books are gone. There are plenty of great books here still, so come in soon!

I think they’re even expanding their hours to accomodate those of us who need extra time making up our minds about which books we want to take home. So, maybe this should be your plan for the weekend. Go to the bar and bring home cheap girls, like Jack Goes Forth. Or go to Chop Suey, and bring home cheap books. Or, heck. Why not both?

community, politics

September 18, 2008

Introducing: Black Eyed Peas and Collard Greens

When I got the news that Richmond’s Center for Neighborhood Empowerment and Enterprise Development (C-NEED) had started a blog, I added them to my blogroll quick. That was before I realized that their online anti-poverty platform was forming under the moniker: Black Eyed Peas and Collard Greens. I’ve blogged about these foods often and even grew some myself this year, but C-NEED does a better job of relating these culinary touchstones to the social justice issues that continue to plague Richmond.

Why Black Eyed Peas & Collard Greens?

The year 2008 represents new beginnings. As we stand on the cusp of new leadership locally, nationally and abroad, we can’t help but to reflect on our history and how this nation was built.

“Black Eyed Peas” symbolize many things but in this case, the small dark portion of the pea is like Black folk. We are viewed as small and not unified and as a result issues that affect our communities are not being heard.

“Collard Greens” represent the “Economic Growth” of our communities as result of our actions to get those running for political office to address our issues. Empowering our community to overcome and resolve the things which keep us from economic prosperity, we can build (“Healthy & Green”) communities.

“Black Eyed Peas & Collard Greens” has been created for the “People” to be heard, through meaningful conversations and debates about issues affecting our community with the intentions of seeing effective and notable results.

Take a look at this new blog and vote in their poll to develop a platform for lobbying local officials and candidates. If “change” is the top priority in our national elections, then there is no reason every community in Richmond shouldn’t expect to benefit fully from an upgrade in pay, education, and public health. On second thought, let’s not wait for Washington. Let’s bring change to Richmond by working together to solve our own problems.

boondi, chaat, food, samosas

September 16, 2008

Masala Boondi and Richmond’s Best Samosas

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I write about falafel so often, you have to be wondering why this vegetarian* isn’t promoting Indian food more actively? I mean, 40% of Indians are veggie and fantastic non-meat meals can be had all over Richmond at the various Indian restaurants. Well, one reason I haven’t been talking Indian since my Valentine’s Day post on cheap date night, is the heat. Heavy curries and rice is the last thing I want when it’s pushing a hundred outside.

Now that it’s September, the coast is clear to bump some coriander chutney and aloo tiki up in the queue. First of all, if you don’t want to commit to a whole meal of Indian, you’re in luck. There’s this great little place at Broad and Hungry Springs, where you can order little plates, like tapas – sorta. And you can sit in a lounge and sip mango lassi while discussing the flavor of your dish. It’s called, Cool Breeze Chaat House (coupons on their site!). Everything on their menu is between $1 and $5. That’s my kinda eatin!

Another option is to get a samosa. Every Indian place sells them and many discerning diners judge a place based on the popular appetizer. Cool Breeze mashes theirs up and smothers it in accouterments and calls it “chaat.” Some places offer theirs with or without meat inside. One would think that there’s not going to be much variation when you combine potatoes, peas and spices fried in a thin dough. But, there actually is a BEST samosa in Richmond. Since I’ve never heard any opinion polls proclaiming otherwise, I hereby declare Bombay Grocery the purveyor of Richmond’s best samosas.

Bombay Grocery on W. Broad just west of Gaskins (by Blue Ridge Mtn Sports) features a modest selection of Indian products. The frozen foods are especially good for quick Indian meals at home. And on the counter by the register are several platters of homemade foods togo. Among the fried goodies, are some plump but plain looking samosas. They’re $1 each, last time I checked. Go buy one now and bite into it as soon as you get out the door. Nope. It doesn’t need to be hot. In fact, reheating kinda ruins it (so don’t let them microwave yours). Besides, there’s plenty of heat packed inside of that pouch. Wow. It will light you up a bit, but the bites will fly by compulsively.

I’ve brought their samosas home and tried to reheat them in the oven, but it didn’t work out. The frying oil soaked up by the shell cannot be reactivated. I’m sure they’re best right out of the fryer, but that’s just not an option at Bombay. To console yourself, buy one or two of every fresh item they have and dig in.

If you want at-home snacks, get a bag of “boondi.” What the hell is that, you’re asking? I have no idea, but they sure taste good. One day I told the clerk at Bombay that I was making raita and I asked what she put in hers. BOONDI! When I saw the bag of tiny crispy poofs, I just couldn’t picture them in my yogurt sauce alongside shredded cucumbers. But, I brought the bag home. (that recipe actually sheds some light on what I was supposed to do)

Next thing you know, Karen has to have a bag of boondi within reach at all times. They’re greasy, salty, spicy, and spherical. Think tiny round Indian potato chips, made with “gram flour.” If you’re brave enough to make a curry flavored salad dressing, then these would make a great salad topper (Black Sheep, consider this on your already perfect salad – you know the one I’m talking about). There are many brands of boondi. So, don’t go hunting just for the item above. And not all flavorings are equal. Start with “masala boondi.” Practice saying it in the car before you go and ask the clerk. Masala boondi. Masala boondi. Doesn’t that feel good?

If you’re in the mood for Indian, having read this, here’s some places to go satisfy that craving right now:

  • India K’Raja buffet: Not cheap, but the variety can’t be beat
  • Ruchee lunch buffee: Cheap and authentic. Not overspiced or glutinous (unless you just can’t stop)
  • Farouks in Carytown: Worst Indian in Richmond. You have to try it to believe it. Tell them what you think afterwards. Still kinda satisfies a curry/raita/chutney jones in a pinch.
  • Royal India on Broad/Hungry Springs: Best Indian in Richmond (in my opinion). They own the Chaat House too. Be sure to try the “shahi paneer.”

*ovo-lacto-pesca, currently

babysitter, community, jasper

September 14, 2008

A Plea for Help: Babysitter Needed

It’s been five months since Jasper was born and Karen and I haven’t been out to dinner together since (or a movie, or both). Our second wedding anniversary is Tuesday and we’re both resigned to the probability of another night coaxing the little guy to sleep (that’s Karen carrying the sleeping sack of taters off to bed). We may not be able to dodge another predictable Tuesday, but it’s high time we prioritized Karen and Jason time.

So, friends. If any of you know any reliable sitters, well… we need one. Or better yet, a familiar friend would probably be our preference. We can bribe with cable and premium channels, an adoring snuggle pug, some tasty finger food, and a very dynamic little boy. We’re new at baby rearin’ but if you’ve got a kid, maybe we could barter and tend to your tyke in return.

If you’re interested, drop a line to jasonguard(at)riseup.net

community, food, whole foods

Whole Foods Revisited (by car, this time)

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After biking to Short Pump and buying next to nothing last weekend, it was inevitable that I would go back with Karen and Jasper and buy up a bunch of natural/gourmet groceries. You see, the last visit was more like an art opening for gawking and being seen than a shopping expedition. I just wanted to see what kind of exquisite monstrosity had been bestowed upon the Greater Richmond region. And ooooohhh, is it a dandy of a grocery store. It’s not physically or economically accessible for most Richmonders, but I still admire the achievement of bourgois beauty.

Jasper was sound asleep in his carseat when we attempted to pull into the parking lot. The Henrico police had rerouted traffic in a big circle around the place and then directed each car to the few available spots. Once inside, I took charge of the baby, so Karen could get a load of Whole Foods’ infinite superiority over all other markets in the area. She had warned me before we came that she was “going to buy stuff.” But once we got into the produce section, Karen was like a kid in a candy store… with a credit card. She seriously loved every square foot of that place. Drawn in by nearly everything she saw, Karen initially complained of the same paralysis that I complained about. But, that didn’t last long and the cart started filling up.* Sweet Jesus, what have I gotten myself into? I couldn’t wait to find out how much this trip was going to set us back.

We took our time going up and down each isle (had to cuz it was so crowded), carefully picking out sale items, unique treats, and exotic ingredients we’ve wanted to try. Big bottles of San-J Tamari was offered 2for1. Grapefruit shampoo for four bucks and change and Tofurky slices were $2 per pack. There was a long moment that I stood in front of the seafood case, wondering how the price of fillets could have doubled over the Carytown Seafood and PT Hastings prices. Mahi mahi for $17/lb? They also had something called “puppy drum redfish,” but the staff couldn’t tell me anything about it. Turns out George W. Bush designated it a protected species in federal waters, due to overfishing. Still not sure why I’d never heard of it. I settled on wild coho salmon for $12/lb, but I was disappointed to find it scaley and full of bones when I got it home. Oh, well. That’s the price of tangling with nature. Shut up or go vegan, right?

I think Karen’s favorite areas were the prepared foods cases and the freshly made desserts. The sushi chefs were giving out samples of the best ginger miso dip either of us had ever tasted. Halfway through, Jasper was awake and fidgety, so I carried him in the Baby Bjorn. He’s a dream to shop with if he’s suspended in front of me with a full view of the sites. It’s a great arrangement, except that I can’t see his face and have to ask the oogling strangers if he’s smiling. He usually isn’t, because he’s contemplating the stimuli of our wacky world.

Okay, here’s the moment you’ve all been waiting for. How much did we spend? Well, I’m still trying to track down the comparison study that Trader Joe’s did about x number of bags of their groceries versus the same from Whole Foods. Obviously, the difference was pretty wide, with WF looking like pretty steep (TJ’s says they’re 20-30% cheaper than WF**). However, I’m used to buying six bags at Kroger for $120 or so, or $75 for even more groceries from one of the salvage stores on the Southside (we’re talking paper bags, here). And with all of the stories of sticker shock and stories of over-indulgence from other bloggers, I was definitely bracing myself.

It turned out to be approximately 4.5 bags for $160. Not bad, eh? This includes a $12 wedge of parmigiano reggiano, $14 worth of fish, a $10 bottle of wine, and seven bucks for four of the biggest and tastiest apples I’ve ever had. Seeing the receipt was actually a little alarming, because it was so short. But, the thing is, they print it on both sides of the paper. A cool little eco-nuance.

Next time, Karen wants to cut straight to the prepared foods and buy buy some lunch so we can enjoy a meal in their in-store lounge or maybe in the outdoor seating. Then, we can shop judiciously with full stomaches and maybe even taste some wines that we’ll probably never buy.

On the way home, we clocked the drive at 13 minutes and 12.2 miles. Not nearly as bad on a Saturday at 4pm as I experienced at quitting time on Wednesday. But, nonetheless, Karen and I agree that we won’t be coming out here too often (in part because Karen had to go back out to Kroger the next day for stuff we don’t need special organic brands for – such as the non-fruit ingredients for this stovetop peach streusel from the awesome new Food Network show). But, when we do, it’ll probably be an exciting trip.

*A car seat and a diaper bag in your shopping cart helps create an optical illusion of a full load of groceries. Try it and you’ll be tricked into spending in moderation.
**I called the Tysons Corner TJ’s and they say this is the average of their comparison studies, but that WF’s 365 brand does compete with their prices, but not on the name brand stuff.

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