Who but Betty Crocker would have the balls to outright call a recipe “leftovers”?
And give it its very own card, even.
This little gem gets rid of all that leftover turkey, as well as frozen broccoli, processed American cheese, evaporated milk, cream of mushroom soup and canned French fried onion rings. That’s it. Those are all of the ingredients.
Of course, if you want to go the extra mile as this food stylist did, fill canned pear halves with leftover cranberry sauce.
As long as it is served on lettuce it is officially a salad.
Our second and final harbour was Ensenada, Mexico. It was a short cruise. Some people were still afraid of the swine flu and stayed on board, which didn’t really protect them because the rest of us could bring it back on board.
According to Cruise Critic,
Ensenada, known as Baja’s “Love Boat” port, is no longer a sleepy resort town. Each year, some 4.5 million visitors descend on this seaside city 68 miles from the border, joining 325,000 residents. Fishing, processing and shipping have made Ensenada Mexico’s second busiest port.
It’s quite a change from 1542 when Portuguese explorer Juan Rodriguez Cabrillo sailed into the sheltered bay in his quest for the mythical Northwest Passage, or sixty years later, when Sebastian Vizcaino named the area Ensenada de Todos los Santos after All Saints’ Day. Over the centuries, many have left their mark here, from Spanish missionaries and Russian settlers to gold miners and gamblers.
I didn’t see the French people mentioned above, but as soon as I disembarked I headed straight for a restaurant recommended by my brother, who is never wrong about these things. In spite of being wary, I trusted him and became only the second diner at Ca Rey Sol. My dining companion across the room appeared to be some local dignitary and was fawned over tremendously.
The restaurant is the oldest French restaurant in Mexico and has been family owned since 1947. The vegetables come from the little family farm and the crazy pastries are made in house.
The menu boasts everything from Escargots de Bourgogne, Caesar Salad tossed tableside, Lobster Thermidor, and Chateaubriand Bouquetiere for Two. In addition to these classics, they offer original creations like Shrimp Medallion Doña Pepita (An original creation of fresh butterflied Gulf shrimp topped with capers and white wine sauce) and Duck aux “Beaux Arts” (a new specialty, with fresh fruits of the season).
I tried out a prix fixe menu that started with an appetizer platter of a simple square of cheese, a puff pastry baton, and then the most stunning quail egg covered in a rich homemade mayonnaise.
The soup, a cream of yellow pepper, was so rich and delicious I sat there for a moment stunned. It was served in a giant, old-school tureen I never thought I would finish. But of course I did.
I ordered the chicken chipotle cooked with brandy and port wine. The chicken was tender and succulent. It was very much like a mole, but the ingredients would have broken all of the rules. Outlaw mole!
The pastries were a tough choice. A strange marriage of rich French pastries and the denser, sweeter Mexican pastries, I wanted to eat them all.
Naturally I chose the most extreme St. Honore-style pastry. It turned out to have a lovely mocha cream and was covered with chocolate and a little dulce de leche.
The big attraction outside of Ensenada is La Bufadora (sometimes called Buffalo Snort), which is one of only three such blowholes in the world (some say it’s the second largest one). The natural cliff formation causes geysers up to 30 feet high. I had budgeted myself with only cash so I wouldn’t go all crazy. I had seen signs for the trip to La Bufadora at ten dollars each. So I had gone a little wild at Ca Rey Sol and I had 20 dollars left.
The “tour guides” who were actually barkers there to shuttle you onto taxis now demanded 30 dollars. They said the 10 dollar fee was for groups of three or more. Well, nobody else wanted to go to La Bufadora. I tried my best haggling tricks, but these guys were tough. They were fat and happy and were not inclined to do anybody a favor.
At one point I actually made a strange deal involving gassing up a taxi but when we got to the gas station I realized he was pulling a fast one. I got out and walked back to town alone, which totally freaked him out. Now he was willing to make a deal for 20 bucks, but he was so sneaky I decided I’d rather not drive into the middle of nowhere with someone sneaky and weird.
So then I went into the leather shop and met an American ex-pat with a tiny little dog in his arms. He offered to take me to La Bufadora in his private car. He seemed nice enough, but he had a tiny little dog, which made me suspicious. And I had met him in the leather shop.
But thanks to YouTube, we can see La Bufadora anyways. This ad for Aqua Adventures kayaking provides a unique view and some cool porn movie music in the background. It looks fun, but maybe they shouldn’t show overturned kayaks in the video.
These guys are way more interested in the street performers and shopping, but they get the money shot. Huarache sandals too…
So there’s your 30 bucks. I wandered around town, and it was your usual shops full of tourist crap and brightly painted Spring Break bars trying to get you as wasted as possible as quickly as possible.
I wandered until I was on the outskirts of town and found what I was looking for – the creepy taqueria. Sometimes the most rustic places are also the best places.
I can’t tell you how to find it. It is on the big loop that surrounds Ensenada. Go to the middle of nowhere and there it is. I had eaten a huge lunch, but I wanted to try a fish taco before returning to the ship. This place delivered.
Plus they had wandering mariachis! My entire bill for a drink and two tacos was three dollars. I was able to tip two dollars, which tickled the cook/server pink, and give the mariachis 5 bucks to play my favorite song. Yes, I am going to collect a million versions of La Barca del Oro on video.
It was quite a ways back to the Malecon (maricon, teehee), but I got back safely, tummy full and happy.
El Rey Sol: Av. López Mateos 1000, Centro, Ensenada, Baja California Norte
Phone: 646/178-2351 646/178-2351
Not only am I a total insomniac, but my room-mate snored. So I often was up wandering the deck in the wee hours. There were not the midnight buffets of my fantasies, but there was still a bit of adventure.
While the nightclubs were still open, there was a sushi bar (for pay). It closed as the dance clubs closed down.
The only 24-hour food for late-night was room service or pizza.
The room service was pretty good. There was a variety of sandwiches, a few salads and desserts, including cheesecake. This sandwich is a really weird color because I ate it in the hallway so as not to wake anyone up.
This group was celebrating a “divorce party” after a quickie Vegas wedding.
Although the divorcing couple seemed pretty friendly. That’s one amicable divorce.
While up at a ridiculous hour I met my only fellow insomniac, Shelly. She started cruising about 3 years ago and just never stopped. She has been all over the world and every employee knew her by name. There are worse ways to spend your time.
Our first port was Catalina Island. You have already heard me wax poetic about the island’s pleasures.
Dating of the construction of the Green Pleasure Pier Pier varies by several sources. Here’s what they say: 1) Pier Green or the Green Pleasure Pier is listed as being constructed in 1910. 2) The pier was constructed in 1920. 3) The current pier is a replacement of the original, built by the Department of War in 1907 but destroyed by a winter storm in 1908. The Green Pleasure Pier is approximately 407 feet long and contains wooden planks on its causeway. –Beach California
Catalina regulars always tell you the best fish and chips on the island is at the green building on the pier. I was not very impressed with my fried fish sandwich and didnt even finish it. So maybe I had the wrong building. This one is kind of light turquoise. I think I was supposed to go to Rosie’s. Next time.
Antonio’s Original Pizzaria is a red checker tablecloth joint that’s been around for 30 years. Don’t confuse it with Antonio’s Pizzaria and Cabaret by the water.
You are also familiar with my love of Original Antonio’s cheese crisp from my Catalina Story. I am still in love with them. Here is one before it goes into the oven
Yum! Don’t the words frozen and salad together in one dish make your mouth water?
Aren’t you tempted to just jump right into the computer screen?
This recipe is a sweet one! Let’s see, cream cheese, sour cream, sugar, salt, canned apricot halves, crushed pineapple, canned cherries, and marshmallows. So it’s sort of a frozen ambrosia.
Tangy is another word whose appeal has fallen by the wayside. Combined with aspic – which is actually lemon Jell-O in this recipe, and tomatoes, how can you go wrong? Why not add some vinegar, onion juice, celery and cloves.
If that doesn’t get your juices flowing, the recipe recommends that you serve with a side of mayonnaise. Or you can fill the ring with your favorite seafood sald.
That is the beauty of the ring mold. You can fill it with anything. Anything at all.
As long as I was taking the long way home, I thought I might as well visit my brother, Johnny, who was hosting a BBQ at the local bar. But first I had to make a stop at the traveler’s mecca of strange – The Madonna Inn. I loved coming here as a child, with the profusion of giant pink pastries, and carousel bar.
Even something as simple as an iced tea to go gets a little touch of whimsy with a rock candy stirrer to sweeten the tea.
Their dining room is a trip, centered around a gigantic gold tree with Pepto-Bismol pink booths. I considered getting married here, but they were really uptight about noise and curfews so I knew that was not for my family.
The rooms are all themed, the “caveman room” being the most popular. There are a lot of rock-themed rooms. Some of them are just lime green from top to bottom. Seriously creepy. And the names are usually unrelated to the themes, which most often seem to be “made over basement” or “staying in Uncle Al’s guest room in the basement”
They even have a little tiny bathroom especially for little girls. The boys bathroom has a trough, and another men’s room has a waterfall.
I picked up a pastry for Johnny and headed over to the Nipomo Saloon. Yeah, this is the kind of town where you have the Nipomo barbershop, the Nipomo Foot Clinic, and Nipomo Sushi all in a row.
I arrived too late for the BBQ and missed out on Johnny’s tri-tip. Luckily the Saloon is right across the street from Jocko’s. Jocko’s is the only reason some people even know Nipomo exists. The bartender called me in an order and when I got there I discovered a steak and garlic bread cut into little bites and stuck with frilly toothpicks like at a cocktail party. They were down with the saloon.
So I was also behind everyone on the drinking. Beer was flowing, a super loud ragtag band of sorts was playing, and the guy who points in the air was pointing.
Even when sitting he can’t stop pointing. It’s the rock and roll that does it. Or whatever’s on tap.
It’s pretty contagious
The golden sun looked beautiful on the hay. I know, I have a brother who lives where they sell hay! It must be in our blood. It just makes me want to point my fingers in the air!
OK. So the day after The festival was a Sunday. I had decided somewhere during my hellride up the 5 to take the 101 home. I woke up early and thought I would hit brunch near Santa Cruz. There was a nice restaurant at a group of upscale cabins in the hills I had been to several times. It offers a slammin’ brunch. It was the first place I ever ate ganache. So you understand it has a deep and profound meaning to me. I remembered the cabins/hotel used to be a monastary so I got on the laptop and started searching.
So this is the place I was trying to find. Looks nice, doesn’t it? I started driving and driving and driving. I wove through the hills until I was in the Redwoods. This couldn’t be right. So I find the address and I was definitely in the wrong place. I ended up here.
The Brookdale Lodge is famously haunted by the ghost of a little girl named Sarah who supposedly drowned in the brook that runs through the center of the restaurant. Food is so much better when enhanced by the tragic death of children.
How to even describe this place? It was as if it had been built in many different stages during different eras. There was some attempt to make it into an alpine fairy tale inside of a castle inside of an abandoned church.
The bar seemed like a good place to get into a fight with a biker and the bathroom seemed like a good place to shoot heroin. I can’t imagine staying here overnight. Then in the middle of haunted Alpine Village, there was an ernormous fading art deco light that looked to have been salvaged from the Titanic.
So the buffet was in a room even dimmer than this one. Nothing whets the appetite like dark, creepy buffets. My biscuits and gravy were ice cold, which sucked, and I was none to impressed with their special chicken and dumplings. Of course, I like fluffy dumplings, not Pennsylvani-style rolled dumplings.
But the omelette! Jesus Christ, that was one of the best omelettes I have ever had in my life. If you are ever randomly in this part of town, it’s worth it for the acid trip and the omelette.
The pasta was also handmade and delicious.
Throwing fish to the trout in the pond. President Hoover fished in the pond when the water used to be higher
It was also an incredibly hot day, so I was very grateful for the press tent. Someone had the great idea to set up a backstage area for press and bring in food so that we could photograph and taste it without waiting in the crazy lines.
Pink’s loves writing on their hot dogs
Bagel and lox from Barney Greengrass
After awhile the band backstage hosted a “meet and greet” and all of those people swarmed into the press tent and started eating all of the food. I was lucky enough to get the next-to-last slice of Juniors cheesecake. Pure heaven.
This banner was on the wall. If you sponsored the press tent, Foodbuzz, I love you!
But I couldn’t hang out in the tent all day. Bobby Flay taught us how to make the perfect burger. He was the king of gestures.
Marshall Crenshaw was playing
I had to check out the wine tent, though I couldn’t drink since I didn’t have a designated driver.
The nice people at J Moss
Maybe just one beer
But I was really excited to find the dessert area. Charles Chocolates: the Perfect S’more
I met Tony Luke, who was supercool, telling me all of the restaurants I should hit on my upcoming trip to Philly. When he found out I hadn’t got a photo one of his cheesesteaks, he sent me with his co-worker into the back of their booth to get pictures of them cooking a steak sandwich.
Where it all starts
After making the sandwich and holding it out for pictures, the guy said, “You want it or not?” I asked then to wrap it up so the people in line didn;t rise up as one and slay me. Later that night in my room, a movie and that sandwich made for a fantastic night.
After a somewhat harried trip up the 5, I finally found my hotel behind an alley after driving around for what seemed like forever. It was kind of deserted, but I was shown to my room by a chatty bellhop. He said, “You’re here for the Food festival? You know Anthony Bourdain stayed here when he was filming and watched porn all night long. You should have seen his bill!” Hmmm. I must admit the rooms are stimulating, with their funky chairs and profusion of velour.
The next morning I was all bright eyed and bushy tailed, ready for some serious grub. Saturday promised to be a gorgeous day of music, cooking demos, live music and feasting. Unfortunately, the best laid plans…There was a line. The line stretched for blocks and blocks and blocks. Seriously, the line was like a mile long. I pulled the press privilege and went in the side. I don’t get paid, there has to be a little perk now and then. I think I would have turned around and driven all the way back to LA if I had to stand in that line.
The first restaurant I hit was South Side BBQ but the payment system was all wacked. You got a bracelet onto which you charged money. Vendors swiped the bracelet and it deducted the money. But my bracelet wouldn’t work. I went up to the front and it was a madhouse. None of the bracelets worked. Volunteers feverishly messed with electronic card readers as the crowd grew more and more agitated. I returned to to apologize, and they just gave me the BBQ (LOVE you, South Side !!!)
The anticipated crowd of 2,000 people quickly grew to 8,000. With only 20-something booths, it was a recipe for disaster. Waits to get in to the festival were over an hour and waits in line for food averaged 45 minutes.
Many people blamed insufficient supplies, but it seemed to be more of a matter of distribution. The only items that ran out were pastrami and cheesecake. If there had been more counters around the event, like three Anchor hot wings stands, and sufficient staff for the additional booths, the waits might not have been such an issue. Another ten vendors or so would have helped too. Foodie paradises like New Orleans and Chicago were underrepresented.
Still, those who chose to make the best of it had fun anyways. People made new friends in line, shared food with each other, and were treated to some great demos and music. Hopefully next year the kinks will be worked out, and as Ed put it so well in his official apology, “”If you could find it in your hearts to think of this as our first pancake, that would be great.”
There wasn’t much to do about food until they figured out the bracelet problem (they eventually dumped the idea altogether). They had 2 stages – a small stage for food demos, and another for a concert, a burger cookoff and “big name” food demos.
Ed Levine, in a kind of amusing pose.
Anne Burrell
The lines were crazy
These nice girls were waiting near the front of the line
And they were nice enough to get me a sandwich and wings. I know, I’m a terrible, terrible person. But you would have done the same. God, that sandwich was so good, even if obtained by evil means. These wings were amazing.
People loooove Guy Fieri and he really brought some energy to the event. He was playful with the audience, pretending to squirt kids and really interacting with them.
Last summer I decided to drive up to Mountain View, just outside of San Jose, by myself to attend the Great American Food and Music Fest. Curated by Ed Levine, founder of Serious Eats, the festival was serving up food from famous restaurants that don’t normally travel outside of their neighborhoods. We’re talking Katz’s Deli Pastrami Sandwiches, Anchor Bar Chicken Wings, Tony Luke’s Roast Pork sandwiches, and Junior’s Cheesecake.
I hate driving the 5, but hey, it was for Katz’s. After miles of nothingness, I started to hear a terrible noise. I pulled into a gas station and they said they didn’t have tires, but there was a place at the next exit. The next exit was five miles away! That was a scary 5 miles.
Luckily there was an open mechanic who was able to put on a new tire. He said that stretch of the 5 eats up tires so he keeps a lot in stock. Coincidentally, we were also right across the street from Harris Farms, my scheduled stop. I should have known by the smell of manure wafting over the 5.
Harris Farms has been in Fresno County since 1937. Since its founding in Fresno. It is one of the largest family owned farms in the nation. They are best known for their quality beef. The family also raises thoroughbred horses and opened The Harris Ranch Inn and Restaurant in 1977.
There are different levels of dining rooms, which is fantastic. There is a cafe style area for big loud families, a quiet elegant steakhouse, and an informal but adults-only bar. I chose to eat in the bar. It was nice to eat on the road without screaming, cranky children. Not that I am a wicked child-hater. I am just cranky enough as it is. The filet I ordered came with soup or salad. I tried the clam chowder. It was full of butter and cream, not very clam-y.
This filet was as tender and delicious as it looks. It could not have been more rare if I had run outside, wrestled a cow to the ground and bitten a hunk out of its leg. The proximity of cattle did add a certain element of that SNL sketch “you stun em, we cook ’em” The rest of the meal was your standard middle-America restaurant fare.
The Harris Farms compound also has a meat market, a huge bakery, and lots of snacks for the road. This pie did not look like it would travel well.
One of the advantages of real flea markets over EBay is the ability to dig through piles of freaky stuff and come up with buried treasure. One of my favorite finds are collections of old recipe cards.
There was once a time when food photography was somehow limited, perhaps by the printing technique, or the tinting process, or maybe it was just the aesthetic of the time. The food portrayed more often than not showed up in unappetizing shades of orange and pink.
I love those pictures. The less appetizing the pictures, and the more cheesy the names, the more highly they are prized.
This 1971 collection of recipe cards from Betty Crocker is one of the things I would grab if my house were on fire. They sure don’t make them like that anymore.
Just look at that delicious crusty salmon, mmmm. When was crusty ever a good adjective for salmon? And look at that shade of pink. You just can’t achieve that level of inedibility in color these days. And it’s under the category of Impromptu Party Fare. There’s nothing I enjoy serving my guests more than canned salmon and cream of mushroom soup over Bisquick biscuits. And who doesn’t love raw broccoli? And olives? This one is sure to please any partygoer.
Papoo’s Hot Dog Show is often overshadowed by the popular and iconic Bob’s Big Boy across the street in Toluca Lake. And to be honest, well, Hot Dog Show is kind of weird. Decorated like an old-fashioned ice cream parlour and populated with bar flies, the restaurant has a strange air of desperation. The servers are friendly, but somehow you get the feeling that everyone has kind of given up.
In contrast to the general weirdness, the food at The Hot Dog Show is amazing. As old-school chili sizes and onion rings go, this is the place. It helps if you think of it as a bar that happens to sell food as opposed to a restaurant that happens to sell beer.
One thing they love here is extreme food with extreme names. So we decided to pit the hyperbolic Monster Dog against the Colossal Burger. As the names would suggest, they are both gigantic. The burger is topped with delicious pastrami that has been cooked on the grill. The monster dog is split and grilled, and bursting with fat. Topped with a delicious truck stop-style chili, it is a force to be reckoned with.
The contest was neck and neck until we stripped away all of the bells and whistles and judged the two solely on the meat. The patty, although moist, is pressed flat and could not be described as juicy. The hot dog on the other hand, bursts with fat and flavor. So in the end, the Monster Dog emerges victorious. Now pour me another beer and let’s try to ignore the drunk guy babbling about politics at the end of the ice cream counter.
OK, remember when Homer Simpson was the voice of Poochie the Dog on the Itchy and Scratchy Show? This is the exact character. Coincidence?
All dogs go to heaven …but how is he holding the harp without any arms?
Who doesn’t want a barbecue beef-ham fountain? I had one at my wedding
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