I Just Can't Get Them off My My Mind

And by "them," I mean hamburgers. First, I read a story about this past month being National Hamburger Month. Then there was Michelle's tale (or, should I say "tell-tale") of gourmet burgers on Sullivan's Island. And the final straw, the one that led to excruciatingly strong cravings, was this cover of Our State magazine staring at me from the checkout stand at the grocery store:

This issue celebrates hamburgers by highlighting the specialties of five Carolina dives:

• Second Street Lunch (Roanoke Rapids)
• Wimpy's Grill (Durham)
• South 21 (Charlotte)
• Art's Place (Kitty Hawk)
• Jimmy Mac's (Bryson City)

These articles bring up a few questions for me, though: How far is it acceptable to drive for a good hamburger? And, is it normal to have a burger bucket list?

Perhaps I should just find a good burger locally. I mean REALLY good. I know plenty of acceptable burger joints, but I'm looking for a mecca. In the meantime, I'm not going to be happy until I have the chili and slaw of a Carolina-style burger running down my chin. 

I love burgers of many different kinds, but there's something about a sloppy Carolina creation, like the one pictured above, that really sets my cravings in gear. The main components of such a burger, by the way, are chili, coleslaw, mustard and onions (the ingredients Carolinians often like on their hot dogs as well). Oh yum!

Is Mexican Cuisine Considered Southern Food?

Happy Cinco de Mayo, y'all.

Really, the holiday means nothing more here than a chance to overdose on margaritas and chimichangas. But it has me thinking ... Is Mexican food becoming a part of Southern cuisine?

I'd say yes. It has been for a long time, actually. In the decidedly Southern (and Southwestern) state of Texas, Mexican-style cooking merged with local fare to create what we know and love as Tex-Mex. And while Tex-Mex has been around in some form or another for almost a century, the popularity of traditional Mexican food (both authentic and Americanized) has been growing in Southern states where the Mexican populations are also booming--namely, Georgia and the Carolinas.

So, will tortillas one day be considered as Southern as cornbread? I doubt it. Besides, it's not like Mexican restaurants are absent in other regions of the U.S. Still, the idea of Mexican food working its way onto the Southern menu is comida for thought, isn't it?

Quesadillas Are the New Grilled Cheese

If 50 is the new 40 and burgundy is the new black, then quesadillas are the new grilled cheese. 

Why? Because I say so.

While I'll always love grilled cheese sandwiches, I've discovered that quesadillas can be just as easy and cheesy as the go-to American classic. Instead of bread, use flour tortillas, and instead of American cheese, use a Mexican blend. Grill it over a heated, buttered pan and you have flour-dairy goodness. Of course with a quesadilla, you will most likely want other ingredients in addition to just cheese and tortillas. But the beauty of this Tex-Mex gem is that you can put anything and everything in it. Using ingredients you have on hand will add to the efficiency of preparing it--and also give you a chance to get creative.

For the quesadilla above, I used some cooked shrimp I already had on hand, a small can of mushrooms, red onions (caramelized) and Texas Pete. I came up with that combination on the fly, but you wouldn't know it. It was quite excellent (although the picture hardly leads you to believe that fact), and I'm craving it now as we speak.

If you want to replicate it, follow these instructions:

Cook shrimp (I already had boiled some earlier that day and thus had some on hand. You can cook yours with your mixture, if you like.) Slice red onions and cook in olive oil over medium-high heat until caramelized. Add shrimp to the pot with the onions. Add one 6.5-oz. can of sliced mushrooms to the shrimp-onion mixture. Add approximately 1/2 Tbsp of Texas Pete. Turn to medium heat and stir occasionally.

Meanwhile, melt 2 Tbsps. of butter on a hot griddle or pan, place one fajita-sized flour tortilla (I used whole-wheat) on the pan and press for 30-60 seconds. Flip and do the same to the other side. Remove the tortilla from the pan and repeat these steps with another tortilla. After crisping both sides of the second tortilla, sprinkle a few handfuls of shredded Mexican cheese blend over it. On top of the cheese, add a couple of scoops of the shrimp-mushroom-onion mixture. Top off with more cheese. 

Place the previously grilled tortilla on top. Press. Flip the entire quesadilla and press again (approximately 30 seconds). Remove from pan and cut into quarters. Top with sour cream and more Texas Pete.

Simple and yummy. Seriously ... if I can do it, you can too.

A Taste of The Big Easy in South Carolina

Greetings from the Seafood Capital of South Carolina!

For those of you not familiar with that moniker, I’m talking about Murrells Inlet, S.C. From its humble beginnings as a fishing village in the early 1900s, the cozy community located south of glitzy Myrtle Beach is now known for its many seafood and barbecue establishments. And it’s been a favorite getaway place for me for several years.

On my visit this week, I decided to have lunch at a restaurant I’ve passed by many times but in which I had never taken time to dine: Flo’s Place, locally owned and with a lively New Orleans theme.

Because it was a perfectly beautiful, sunny day with mild temperatures (low 70s), we sat outside on the deck, with a view of Garden City across the inlet.

With zydeco music filling the air, I perused the menu, which was full of tasty bayou dishes. I chose the simple Crab Cake PoBoy, which came with fried onions and Flo’s homemade potato salad. (If you’re not familiar with the po-boy, go here.)

Why I waited so long to have a meal at Flo’s, I cannot tell you. What I can tell you, though, is that that sandwich was so delectable it’d make you want to slap your mama.

I love crab cakes. I love just about anything that can be turned into a “cake” of any sort: salmon, shrimp, potatoes, beans … if it can be mixed with bread crumbs and eggs and fried, I’ll eat it. And the crab cakes gracing this po-boy were some of the best I’ve ever had.

So tender, seasoned just right … they were as close to perfect, in my opinion, as they come.

Friendly service, delicious food, great view, perfect weather … what more could you ask for while on vacation?

Cooking Class Time Travel

My co-bloggers and I love food. That’s probably pretty evident by the fact that we have a blog devoted to the subject. But we don’t just appreciate the visceral experiences of food—the tastes, sights and smells (which we certainly do)—we’re also fascinated by historical, cultural and (yes, Alton Brown fans) scientific topics tied to food. Let’s just say we’re food nerds. We admit it proudly. So when we found out Old Salem, a preserved, Colonial-era Moravian village in Winston-Salem, N.C., was having a cooking class based on 18th century Moravian recipes and cooking methods, we signed up pretty quickly.

For the food anthropologists among us, Moravian culinary traditions from the 18th and 19th centuries still influence the kitchens of the northwest Piedmont region of North Carolina to this day (primarily, Forsyth and Davidson Counties). For instance, there’s a chicken pie recipe (which is not a pot pie, thank you very much) that is only found in this particular region. And, of course, I’m convinced that Moravian sugar cakes laid the foundation for one of Winston-Salem’s more famous foods, Krispy Kreme doughnuts, but that’s a post for another day.

So, getting back to our little excursion back in time, let me share with you exactly what goes down during a period cooking class--a Holiday Hearthside Cooking Class, to be exact.

Foods Prepared:

Carolina Snowball

Sliced Peach Pudding

Marzipan Candies

Kitchen Tools, Utensils and Servingware:

Fireplace

Cast-Iron Cooker

Handmade Pottery

Straw Whisk

Balance (for measuring)

Soap and a Bucket of Room-Temperature Water (for handwashing)

Hand-forged Steel Forks and Knives

Recipes:

(You'll see that old recipes are anything but exact--at least compared to today's precise formulas.)

Carolina Snow Balls

Anna Paulina Schober (1805-1821) Salem, NC

Swell rice in milk, strain it off, and having pared and cored apples, put the rice around them, tying each up in a cloth; put a clove or cinnamon in each, and boil them well.

Sauce for Snow Balls

The Art of Cookery Made Plain and Easy by Hannah Glasse, 1774

Take a quarter pound of fresh butter melted thick, a glass of white wine, a little nutmeg, a beaten cinnamon, made very sweet with sugar; boil all up together and pour it into a bason [sic]. Send it to the table.

Sliced Apple Pudding

Kentucky Housewife, 1839

Beat six eggs till light, and stir them into a quart of sweet milk, with enough flour to make it a good batter, four ounces of butter, four of sugar, a glass of brandy and two powdered nutmegs. Pare and slice very thin from the cores half a dozen well-flavored apples, and put them in the batter, stirring and mixing them evenly through it. Put it in a buttered dish, or pan, and bake it in a moderate oven. Eat it warm, with cold cream sauce, or butter and sugar, flavored with lemon. A peach pudding may be made in the same manner.*

What We Learned:

Human beings, regardless of century, find creative ways to cook efficiently and add interest to recipes.

Folks used to eat with the knife rather than the fork. The fork was only to hold down food while cutting, and was dangerously sharp.

Washing your hands in a communal wash bucket filled with tepid water is pretty disturbing to those of us who prefer not sharing germs with others.

It takes a while for the 21st century palate to adjust to foods with little salt or sugar.

A marzipan candy can be a metaphor for the life of whomever is making it. (I have to say, this is my philosophy, not that of the Moravians.)

I crack under pressure and cannot whisk eggs properly or pare an apple quickly when others are watching. Michelle and Jason are pros at it all!

I’m very thankful for ovens and microwaves and hot water and whisks that aren’t made of straw … and about a hundred other things.

Every cooking class should be taught by someone in costume. It just helps; I don’t know why. Ok, it doesn’t really help—I just like seeing people in costume.

*We actually used peaches in our class