The Finest Burger in the Land

Greetings, one and all. As promised, I'm going to try to blog more often, at least once a week or so. Of course, this presents the small challenge of coming up with interesting content to write about. Sometimes that's difficult, as routine life here in central Arkansas can become a bit droll. Days run into days, as they say, and I just don't always feel like I've got pertinent information to share with you all. Every once in awhile, however, something jumps up and surprises me. Let me tell you about a meal I had this weekend. 

If you're like me, the act of eating a hamburger has degenerated from a memorable affair (remember "burger night" when you were a kid?) to something much more plebeian. As an adult, the thought of eating burgers conjures up images of endless drive-through lines, dollar menus, and barely palatable patties of pitiful construct. The great hamburger experience has truly fallen from its once lofty perch in my mind. I just don't expect that much from dine-out burgers anymore....frankly, I can do it better at home.  So then, I'm really not sure what motivated me to choose the burger from Capital Bar & Grill last Friday night. Maybe the unusual side of Parmesan fries caught my eye. Maybe I was just in the mood. Who knows? Boy, am I glad I did. 

The Capital Bar and Grill, located inside the Capital Hotel in historic downtown Little Rock, is a local institution. Alongside its sister restaurant, the exclusively expensive Ashley's, the Capital Bar and Grill (henceforth CB&G) is home to critically acclaimed dishes of all shapes and sizes. Knowing as much, I went in expecting good things from them. I ordered an Old Fashioned to start dinner and began perusing the menu. A few delicious-looking items caught my eye. The ham sandwich with house cured and smoked ham looked spectacular, as did the roasted chicken. Above all, one entry reached out and grabbed me. Simply titled "The Burger," it was a 7-oz. patty of all-natural local Arkansas beef, topped with house-made pimento cheese,  house-made pickles, lettuce, tomato, and onion, and served with a side of freshly cut Parmesan fries. Despite my instincts, I couldn't resist the pull. I ordered The Burger. Brilliantly, I was asked how I'd like it cooked. "Medium rare!" was my reply, and the excitement began to build. Could I finally have found a burger worth paying for? My mouth continued to water as I munched on complimentary deep fried black-eyed peas (oh yes) and sipped my drink. After a moderate wait, it arrived. The Burger, oozing with that homemade pimento cheese, looked as though it had been prepped for a photo shoot. I topped it with onion, lettuce, and mayonnaise (house made, naturally) and took a bite. 

It's been said that great food does more than fill the stomach or satisfy cravings. Truly great food takes you places, brings back memories, and evokes feelings that had previously been dormant. I'm going to tell you people something....from the very first bite, The Burger yanked me from my seat at CB&G and sent me to a time, years ago, when I loved burgers as much as anything. A time when a trip to McDonald's was a happening (these were much simpler times), and when ground beef smothered in cheese was my very favorite food in the whole wide world. The beef, seasoned with steak spices, was incredibly crisp on the outside, yet tender, juicy, and perfectly medium rare in the middle. The bun was toasted perfectly and added another level of crunch. The pimento cheese....well, the cheese was sublime (I'm running out of adjectives here). The locally-sourced veggies and homemade pickles were as flawless a compliment as could possibly exist, and the real mayo added a tiny bit of tang that blended right in. Every single ingredient was delicious in its own right, and when combined became an orchestra of contrasting flavors and textures. I enjoyed about eight perfect bites before the end came and I had to return to reality. The poor fries, tasty in their own right, were an afterthought. I munched on them for awhile, but I'd have traded three plates of fries for another mouthful of the Burger.  I could not think of a single other thing I'd have rather eaten at that moment.  As the check arrived, I realized that a cheeseburger had just vaulted itself to the very top of my list of memorable meals. Just like old times. Thanks, CB&G.

http://capitalhotel.com/CBG/

Guinness Chocolate Cake

Wow....I'm not all that diligent with this blogging thing, am I?  I'd love to blame this on my nonstop, too-busy-to-think schedule, but the truth is that I sit at a desk at work for eight hours a day and have more than enough time to punch up an entry now and then. Shame on me...I'll try to do better. Who knows, all this writing may come in handy someday. But enough talk. Let's get down to the business of baking. 


I have waxed poetic at the joy of baking on these virtual pages before. I love the technical, nit-picky nature of weighing flour down to the gram and carefully mixing everything together. It seems the quality of one's baked goods are directly proportional to the amount of obsessive-compulsive detail that goes into them. Give your cake, bread, or muffins a bit of time and effort, and they'll reward you with moist deliciousness. Baked goods truly come into their own during holidays, when the baker can fashion themed treats based on the occasion. Christmas obviously takes the cake (haw haw) on this topic, but I think that some of the "lesser" holidays deserve some baked respect. And since it's March 17 and your writer is fair-skinned, red-headed, and a lover of stout Irish beers, let's give some love to St. Patrick's Day with a fantastically moist creation called Guinness Chocolate Cake. 


Beer in cake? Yes, it's unorthodox. But as we have shown here before, beer is great at providing a yeasty backnote that is right at home in a variety of dishes. In this cake, the rich chocolaty Guinness brings a complex twist to an otherwise standard cake batter. I expected that, but I did not expect the incredible moistness this cake packs. Wow.  The "frothy" cream cheese icing is a perfect complement to the cake's yeasty sweetness. I took the cake to our church's small group and people were blown away by the moisture and pleasantly unexpected flavors. This one was an unqualified hit, and I'll absolutely make it again. Trust me, give this one a try. If you have friends/acquaintances who are teetotalers, just tell them the alcohol cooks out.  I think that it does, anyways. 


Guinness Chocolate Cake 


Ingredients:

• 1 cup Guinness stout 
• 2 sticks unsalted butter, cubed 
• 3/8 cup unsweetened cocoa 
• 2 cups superfine sugar (pulse regular sugar in a food processor if you don't have any) 
• 3/8 cup plain yogurt 
• 2 large eggs 
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract 
• 2 1/8 cups all-purpose flour 
• 2 1/2 teaspoons baking soda 

For the topping:

• 1 1/4 cups confectioners' sugar 
• 8 ounces cream cheese, at room temperature 
• 1/2 cup heavy cream 
• 
  

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter a 9-inch springform pan. In a large saucepan, combine Guinness and butter. Place over medium-low heat until butter melts, then remove from heat. Add cocoa and superfine sugar, and whisk to blend.

In a small bowl, combine sour cream, eggs and vanilla; mix well. Add to Guinness mixture. Add flour and baking soda, and whisk again until smooth. Pour into buttered pan, and bake until risen and firm, 45 minutes to one hour. Place pan on a wire rack and cool completely in pan.

Using a food processor or by hand, mix confectioners' sugar to break up lumps. Add cream cheese and blend until smooth. Add heavy cream, and mix until smooth and spreadable.

Remove cake from pan and place on a platter or cake stand. Ice top of cake and serve.

Food, Inc.

Hello loyal readers, and thank you for checking back in.  Today's post is going to be a change of pace as well as a first for me - I'm going to do a movie review! Please hold your applause until the end.

While at home last Saturday night, Tiffany and I were browsing our Netflix "watch instantly" queue (just about the best thing ever) when we came upon a recommended documentary called Food, Inc.  Having recently watched Super-Size Me, we were in food-doc mode.  The film's description promised to expose the disturbing underbelly of the food industry as well as the detrimental effects that mass-produced chickens, pigs, and cows have had on America's health and economy.  As a cook as well as a person who eats food regularly, this interested me.   I clicked play and off we went. Ninety-four minutes later, I was genuinely disturbed and disgusted.

Side note - I don't really know how to frame this, since I'm covering new literary ground here. Do I recap the movie book report-style or leave the plot uncovered so that the reader can be shocked/surprised as I was?  I'll try to stay somewhere in the middle, just in case the movie isn't available to some of you.

We start things off with a few statistics and an overhead shot of a "corporate" cow farm. It seems that things have changed since the old days, when cows (and chickens, pigs, and so on) were raised in wide open fields, allowed to forage and grow naturally, and only slaughtered when the time came. The obscenely high supply of beef, poultry, and other foodstuffs required by the McDonald's (they seem to keep popping up in these things) and Burger Kings of the world has forced the food supply industry to adopt a factory-style approach to farming. Cows, chickens, and pigs are packed into tiny shacks or fences, fed food engineered to fatten them up at twice the rate nature intended, and processed as quickly, efficiently, and effortlessly as possible.

We go to images of the inside of a typical modern chicken coop.  There are so many chickens crowded into this shed (that's all it is - a tin shed with a few fans) that one can hardly see the ground. The chickens are fed corn - something they'd never, ever eat in the wild - and are fattened at about double the natural rate.  They are engineered to grow larger than normal breasts because folks prefer white meat.  Consequently, most of the chickens shown were so top-heavy they could only walk two or three steps before falling down from exhaustion.  In addition, it turns out that a byproduct of having thousands of chickens enclosed in a small tin shed is the rampant spread of bacterial infection.  These chickens spend their days wading around in one another's filth and excrement, so bacteria has a field day jumping from bird to bird. Naturally, the solution is to pump them full of antibiotics.  The grower informs us that she is completely allergic to antibiotics due to her constant exposure to them Once the chickens have reached their weight limit, trucks arrive during the night to collect them.  The next day, we see the now-empty shed, completely barren save a few dead chickens the collectors left behind. The grower informs us she will probably lose her contract with Tyson because she let cameras in.  A postscript informs us that very thing happened a short time later.

Our next stop is a giant cornfield somewhere in the Midwest.  We are shown rows of corn stretching as far as the eye can see. What an image of Americana. Corn, it seems, has gone from the dinner plate to just about everything we Americans use in just under 100 years. Corn is in most processed food and drinks, gas, plastics, and even medicine.  It seems to be a true miracle crop.  As it turns out, corn also is the main food supply used by meat mass-producers.  There are several good reasons for this. Obviously, when animals are packed into very confined spaces, they can't forage for grass like nature would intend, so they are fed corn in troughs.  Their corny diet has the added benefit of fattening the animals up very quickly. Additionally, we are told that the United States government, in their infinite wisdom, has decided to subsidize farmers who grow corn with taxpayer money.  Several farmers report that they sell corn for far less than it costs to produce, but that they profit thanks to Uncle Sam's checks.  Finally, remember when I mentioned  that McDonald's is the largest purchaser of beef, poultry, and so on in the world? You can imagine that they would want their chicken sandwiches in Des Moines, IA to taste exactly like the ones in Ft. Lauderdale, FL taste.  This is accomplished by feeding the sandwich fodder the same food - corn. So corn, it seems, is king. Naturally, this has several side effects, but I'll only cover one - illegal immigration.  Stay with me here, because this all ties in.

Remember those government subsidies I mentioned before? Well, they make corn incredibly cheap to the final buyer. So cheap, in fact, that (thanks to NAFTA) corn can be exported to Mexico and STILL be sold cheaper than the farmers in Mexico can grow it.  Big deal, right? Well, floods of cheap American corn in the Mexican market created a new problem.  Mexican farmers began to go out of business because they couldn't price match the American corn, and the Mexican economy began stuttering from unemployment.  The meat processing industry swooped in by laying off American workers, sending buses to Mexico, and hiring the now-unemployed Mexican farmers to come work for them.  You would think that this active lawbreaking would be punished...and you'd be right, if by punished you mean law enforcement rounds up a few illegals here and there instead of punishing the company importing them. The level of corruption at work is shocking.

I could go on and on for another three or four paragraphs. The movie covers E. Coli's devastating spread (including a poor mother whose child died after eating an infested fast food burger).  It is clear the fault rests in the hands of the food producers.  We also learn that the entire soybean market is controlled by a single company that uses its power and position to strong-arm farmers into using their genetically altered beans. I could go on and on. Bottom line - Food, Inc. ought to be mandatory viewing for anyone who eats.  Think about it - how much do you know about the origins of the food on your plate?  In the old days, people either grew and raised their own meat and vegetables or bought them from someone they knew and trusted.  Modern eaters have had their eyes covered as two or three big companies have redesigned the food production industry with little or no government regulation. In fact, the government only steps in when the producers screw up on a grand scale.  This isn't acceptable.  We need to be informed as to how our food is produced, from coop to supermarket.  If you can watch this movie and still feel OK about that McChicken sandwich (or even store-bought birds) then more power to you. I can't.  I'm sold on organic now.  And those are five words I never thought I'd say.

BBQ 101

I have a feeling that if I were to get up out of my chair, walk outside, and ask the first 20 people I met what they considered to be the trademark "food of the South," I'd get a fairly wide variety of answers. One might say biscuits and gravy, another fried chicken, and the next fried catfish (we do a fair amount of frying down here). I'd bet, however, that the majority would offer an answer consisting of three ubiquitous letters: BBQ. (Or barbecue? We'll go with BBQ because it's my blog, and it's easier to type.) You know what? I'm with them. I cannot think of a single dish that varies so greatly from state to state, and even from region to region. There is almost nothing about BBQ that isn't reliant on the cook's interpretation. Even the protein itself is up for debate. North Carolinians (and traditionalists) will tell you that the only true BBQ is "whole hog," where the entire pig is smoked and combined before eating. Texans don't even use pork, opting instead for beef brisket. In Kentucky, they use mutton. Sauces bring an even hotter debate. Some say good 'Q needs nothing, others claim it ain't BBQ unless it's sauced. I won't go into a big historical discussion covering all the various nuances of regional BBQ here. If you happen to be interested in that, a great account can be found here. My intention for this entry is to prove that anyone can produce restaurant-quality BBQ in their own backyard with a few simple tools and some know-how.


Before we begin, I think it's important to establish a few ground assumptions. So here goes:

• BBQ ≠ Grilling. BBQ is prepared using indirect heat and smoke. Grilled foods are cooked quickly over direct heat. BBQ'ing requires more time, attention, and skill than does grilling. Please don't confuse the two.
• BBQ = pork. Regional nuances aside, pig meat is the generally accepted protein of choice when BBQing. Here's why: the very tradition of BBQing came from poverty. Poorer southerners (typically slaves) couldn't afford beef, so the readily available pig was their best option. Along the way, some of them figured out that if the fattier parts of the pig (the shoulder specifically) were cooked over low heat for an extended period of time they transformed from tough and sinewy to tender and juicy. Modern BBQ was born.

Ok, we've laid the foundation. Here are a few tools you will need:

• A grill. Most American backyards/porches are equipped with a grill of some kind, be it gas or charcoal. I used a Weber "kettle" for my BBQ, and this walkthrough will reflect that. It is possible to BBQ using a propane grill as well. Instead of using charcoal, just use your burner as the heat source.
• Wood. The deep smoky flavor of good BBQ is a product of the type of wood used by the cook. Traditional pork applications use hickory, but fruit woods such as apple are common as well. I chose hickory. Most hardware stores will sell you a big bag of wood chips for around 6 bucks. I used both wood chunks and chips so that I had good smoke throughout the cooking process. If you have access to natural wood, use it, but be careful to check for mold, mildew, or other potentially nasty spots on your wood. Also, stay away from pine and other sappy woods, as they will leave a bitter flavor on the meat and make your diners think you smoked your pork using an old dresser. I just play it safe and buy my wood from the store.
• A thermometer. The most indispensable item in a BBQer's toolkit is an accurate thermometer. Heat control is vital - too much heat and you're grilling, which will make a fatty pork shoulder chewy and tough. Too little and you're in the "danger zone" and running the risk of bacterial infection. The sweet spot for BBQing is between 200 and 250. You won't know you're there unless your grill is equipped with a thermometer, preferably one located at or around the cooking position. You'll also need a meat thermometer to check for doneness. This one isn't quite as vital, but if you're a perfectionist (like me) knowing when you hit 190 degrees will tell you exactly when your pork is done. Spend the 15 bucks and get a good, reliable digital instant-read thermometer.

As always, we begin in the grocery store. You'll want to pick up a cut from the shoulder, and it should be labeled as "pork shoulder" or "Boston Butt." No, I don't know why a shoulder cut is called a "butt." Figure on each diner eating 1/2lb of meat - a 10lb butt can feed 15-20. See why this is so popular with low income brackets? At home, take your pork out of the wrapper and pat it down with your rub of choice. I'll post the one I used at the bottom, but a store-bought rub will work as well. Just spend a little extra and get one with some pedigree, like Rendezvous. Be generous with the rub. Cover as much of the meat as possible, and pat (not rub, ironically) it onto the meat. Wrap everything in plastic wrap and stash it back in the fridge. This should be done at least 24 hours before cooking.


Home-cooked BBQ is not a last-second endeavor. You will need to allow yourself around 8-10 hours of cooking time. Chill out - this doesn't mean you'll be standing over the flame poking at the meat for that long. Fatty cuts (like our pork) need to cook for an extended amount of time so that the collagen and fats can break down properly. Fill a chimney starter about 3/4 of the way with charcoal, light up, and give the coals about 15 minutes to get warm. They should all have a gray, ashy coating on them. Next, set up your grill for 2-zone indirect cooking. Bank the coals to one side of the grill, place your wood of choice directly on the coals, and put a metal container (a small bread pan is perfect) with a couple of cups of water in it on the other side of the grill. The water, called a drip pan, will help to modulate the heat, making it easier to keep from overcooking the meat. Lid up, open the vent 1/4 of the way, and let the heat settle in around 225-250. Don't put the meat on until your grill is at the proper temperature.


Once the correct temperature rolls around, place the pork directly over the drip pan. Lid up, and walk away. Go mow the lawn, clean some dishes, or read. Resist the urge to lift the lid every ten minutes and poke things. As long as you start with the right temperature, checking the heat once per hour is plenty. If the it drops to around 200, add another prepared coal or two. If the smoke runs out, toss another wood chunk on the fire. Keep the heat between 200-250 and things will be just fine. As noted before, this is a long process. The pork needs to be smoked for at least four hours to develop good smoky flavor and bark (the dark exterior part that BBQ lovers crave.) After that, you can remove it from the grill, wrap it in foil, and finish it off in a 250 degree oven. Internal doneness will depend on how you plan to prepare your 'Q. It'll be sliceable at around 170 degrees, but let it get to around 190 and you'll have pork fit for pulling. Once you hit 190, move your pork from the oven to a cooler, close the lid, and let it rest for an hour or until dinnertime. Don't worry, it'll stay warm for hours in there. When you're ready to serve, pull the meat using two upside down forks with the tines opposite each other. Serve on a bun (Wonder Bread brand is perfect) topped with homemade coleslaw and BBQ sauce. Finally, sit back and absorb the adulation of your diners as they rave about your pitmaster-quality 'Q. Seriously, this is one of those dishes that really impresses people when it's done right.


See below for the rub recipe I used, as well as recipes for slaw and bbq sauce.


"Memphis Dust" Rub

• 3/4 cup firmly packed dark brown sugar
• 3/4 cup white sugar
• 1/2 cup paprika
• 1/4 cup kosher salt
• 1/4 cup garlic powder
• 2 tablespoons ground black pepper
• 2 tablespoons ground ginger powder
• 2 tablespoons onion powder
• 2 teaspoons rosemary powder

Combine all ingredients in a bowl and mix with a fork. Store in an airtight container for up to 6 months. Experiment with added ingredients to expand the flavor (chili powder, ground mustard, etc.)


"Sweet Heat" BBQ sauce

• 2 tbsp EVOO
• 1/2 onion, roughly chopped
• 3 cloves garlic, crushed
• 3 strips smoked bacon
• 5-7 sprigs thyme
• 2 cups ketchup
• 1/4 cup molasses
• 1/4 cup brown sugar
• 1 chipotle pepper with adobo sauce
• 2 tbsp red wine vinegar
• 1 bay leaf
• 1 tbsp cumin
• 1 tbsp paprika
• 1/2 tbsp chili powder
• 1/2 tbsp powdered mustard
• 1 tsp kosher salt
• 1/2 tsp black pepper, freshly ground
• 3 cups bottled BBQ sauce

Heat oil over medium in a large saucepan or medium pot. While oil is warming, wrap the bacon strips around the thyme sprigs and secure with kitchen twine. Place the bacon-thyme bundle into the oil and cook until bacon renders. Add the onion and garlic and cook until browned. Add remaining ingredients except for bottled BBQ sauce, bring to a simmer, and allow to cook for an hour. Remove bay leaf and bacon-twine bundle and move sauce to a blender. Add bottled BBQ sauce and puree until smooth. Run sauce through a sieve to remove any remaining chunks. Bottle and sell for $6.00 each.


Delicious Coleslaw

• 1 bag coleslaw mix
• 1 1/2 cups mayonnaise
• 2 tbsp Dijon mustard
• 1 tbsp red wine vinegar
• 1/2 tsp kosher salt
• 1/2 tsp pepper
• 1 tbsp Memphis Dust
• 1 tbsp adobo sauce (from canned chipotle peppers)
• 2-3 tbsp sugar, to taste

Combine all ingredients except sugar and coleslaw mix in a large bowl with a whisk. Add sugar until coleslaw base is sweet enough for you. Toss in coleslaw mix, adding more mayonnaise to increase creaminess. Chill before serving.