Strawberries and Gum

Despite what the 40 degree weather and torrential rain last week may have implied, it is technically almost summer. Even then, the weather in Oregon doesn't start to get nice until after the Fourth of July fireworks are done.

Summer for me means the beginning of Berry Season, which ranks right up their with the start of the NFL season in September and the NBA season in October. I usually start to get impatient around this time for the Oregon strawberries to realize that it is time to ripen so I can make pies with them, and I end up buying the imported California strawberries. The problem with the California berries is that while they can grow to the size of volleyballs, the middle of the berries is generally filled with that un-delicious white pithy core stuff. 

Clearly, the only way to solve this situation is to core out the jumbo berries, fill them with ice cream and then coat the entire thing in chocolate:

I really see no other viable alternatives.

The ice cream was a separate success in itself. I've made a number attempts on soy based ice cream. Each time the ice cream started out great but then froze into a solid, non-dairy, chunk of flavored ice. Adding alcohol to the mix just postpones the inevitable for a day or two.

After some internet research, I decided to give xanthan gum a try. Xanthan gum is apparently derived from the bacterial shell of some microorganism, so I guess it's natural and organic, right? I am not quite sure how someone figured this out in the first place, but it is supposed to act as a thickener/emulsifier. In ice cream, the xanthan gum prevents ice crystals from forming, which helps to make the ice cream actually creamy, and less icy-crunchy. Much to my surprise, it actually worked, and made the soy ice cream seems a little more like the dairy-full kind.

I can picture the dude who first started using xanthan gum in food preparation: after pondering for hours in the kitchen, suddenly slapping the table and yelling: "I got it! Dead bacteria carcasses!"

Delectable.

--Isaac

Consuming Chicago - Part Two: Deep Dish Pizza

I think I figured out why Italians can get so ornery when it comes to us Americans and our take on pizza: they're just jealous they didn't think of it first. We're chowing down on pizza piled with pulled pork, bacon, barbeque sauce, chorizo, artichokes, pineapples, smoked salmon, and every kind of cheese that exists. They're stubbornly stuck on thinking that it is margherita or bust. Foolish. They're missing out on some great stuff.

Chicago has some very solid pizza. And lots of it:

Oddly enough, the pizza was surprisingly light, despite being deeper than the Mariana Trench and filled with all manner of meat and cheese.And due to my recently perfected food math equation: less dense = less calories, thus I am good to go with eating a third of the above pizza.

My own attempt at a Chicago-style deep dish pizza allowed for both the delicious consumption of pizza and the excuse to use my cast iron pan, which I am fairly certain was forged by Ancient Food Titans and imbued with magical properties that make all foods prepared in it fantastic:

Looks like I could have filled the dish up with at least another inch of filling:

You keep keep your mundane margherita, Italy. We'll just continue to duplicate and elaborate over on this side of the world.

--Isaac.

Consuming Chicago - Part One: Chicago Dogs

Well, this was supposed to be the Blazers season where we make it past the first round of the playoffs. Roy was going to transcend to a higher level of existence and learn to score just with his mind, Aldridge was going to get to the All-Star game, and Oden was going to dominate play.

Then reality hit: Roy had double knee surgery and missed a third of the season, Aldridge played like a beast but got hosed on the all-star nomination so that  David Stern could pay off his new house mortgage with some extra advertising revenue that just happened to be laying around (not that I'm bitter), and Oden had some more knee surgery and missed another full season.

One of the highlights to the season was that Mary and I flew out to Chicago to attend a Blazers away game against the Bulls. It was the home opener for the Bulls, and little did we know that the Bulls were destined to have the best record in the league come April and the MVP. In hindsight, the 20+ point blowout in favor of the Bulls makes a little more sense now.

Shifting away from basketball, and instead towards stuffing our faces with food, Mary and I decided that it would be foolish of us to not sample the two delicacies that Chicago has perfected: Chicago-style hot dogs, and deep dish pizza.

The Chicago-style hot dog consist of the following: poppy-seed bun with mustard, white onion, tomatoes, whole pickle spears, celery salt, sport peppers, and the most fluorescent green relish you've even seen. It's like a meat salad topped with mustard. And it is delicious.

Our last day in Chicago became an impromptu tour de force of hot dogs. We thought that the best way to truly enjoy the Chicago-style hot dog was to try them at as many locations as possible. Behold:

Tour Stop Number One: Wrigleyville Dogs

The first stop of the day was in the shadow of Wrigley Field.  It was a solid start of the adventure. The one misstep was the lack of celery salt and the fact that this conversation took place:

Isaac: "One hot dog please."
Dude at the counter: "Do you want everything on that?"
Isaac: "Yes."
Dude "Do you want peppers?"
Isaac (internally): "Did I miss the memo that says 'Everything' doesn't actually mean 'Everything'?"
Isaac (externally): "Yeah...."

Tour Stop Number Two: The Weiner Circle

The Weiner Circle was pretty tough to find: we stepped off the bus, walked about 6 feet, and then were inside ordering. Rigorous. This hot dog was fantastic. It hit all of the necessary ingredients, plus an extra pickle spear, and the hot dog was charred on the grill. This place was not as exciting at 12:30pm on a Monday afternoon as it is after the bars close apparently. Needless to say, their hot dogs are better than their singing.

Tour Stop Number Three: Budaki's

Mixed reviews with Budaki's. The polish dog they used was superb, however they neglected the poppy-seed bun and we got sucked into that strange alternate reality where saying you want everything on the hot dog doesn't actually mean everything. I guess the fact that I burnt my tongue on the hot dog and didn't' even care is testament enough in its deliciousness though.

Tour Stop Number Four: Gold Coast Dogs

We finished strong with our final stop: all the right toppings were present, and "everything" actually meant "everything".  The real story here was that the hot dog was so tasty, that when Mary dropped the last bite of hot dog on the airport terminal gate floor, I still ate it. In my defense, the hot dog fell bun side down, and we were sitting on chairs that were up against the terminal windows, and since the hot dog piece fell between the back of the chair and the window, I figured that area didn't get a whole lot of foot traffic anyways. And I'm alive today to tell the tale.

Clearly, I had to try my hand at reproducing my own Chicago-style hot dogs. So I started with making my own poppy-seed covered buns:

While the relish I ended up using was not the hue of radiator fluid, the final result rivaled the hot dogs we had in Chicago in my opinion:

And just in case you were concerned, I did eat the above hot dog off of a plate like a civilized and sanitary person would, instead of the floor.

--Isaac.