Lost in Translation

 At last, a food review that can benefit so many more people than those of us blessed to be in Houston, or even the great state of Texas (yes it is that awesome).  Today’s post is over the most important meal of the day, breakfast, or as they call it in these joints desayuno.  

Now I will come clean that this breakfast was sort of an accidentally awesome kind of experience but then again those usually turn out to be the best ones.  The other day I went to El Hidalguense (which means someone from the Mexican state of Hidalgo), located on Long Point Road in Houston, and every review I read about this place focused on one menu item that I had myself salivating for, cabrito.

Yes, for those of you not familiar with the food or the term, cabrito is baby goat (as delicious as it is cute), succulent little goat that is slow cooked until it is falling off the bone good.  I understand that this is not for everyone and I first was unsure about it myself, until as a bus boy at an On the Border in high school I worked an early Saturday morning shift, and the Mexicans who were working the prep had some cabrito they had cooked up and basically forced me to try.  Of course I loved it; the rich meat wasn’t covered in spices or sauce, just allowed to explode in flavor of its own making.

Unfortunately, cabrito was outside of my morning breakfast budget and it appeared that it was actually a dinner meal (another misconception caused by that first experience), so that review will have to come another day when I am willing to part with $25 and maybe have a brave soul to split it with.

That pain was easily soothed though with the appearance of a free flauta (some of you may know it better as a taquito), some delicious smoky salsa, and a Mexican Coke (yes the recipe is different, much sweeter since it uses cane sugar instead of one of those syrups).  The salsa was thicker and smokier than most, almost an oil compared to a salsa that I am used to at other restaurants, but the chipotle, chile del arbol, garlic, and other flavors made it a good addition to all of the food.

So after pouring over the menu (a three ring binder with pagers slipped in plastic sleeves all written in Spanish) I settled on a familiar friend of mine from past breakfasts at places like Taqueria Arandas or Jarro Café, the delicious plate known as chilaquiles.

  Here is a picture of chilaquiles from Jarro Café, so good it will be getting a write up the next time I make it there.

Somehow this simple order got lost in translation, and I had a plate of scrambled eggs and beef show up in front of me.  I decided to roll with it rather than fighting it and that was definitely a smart move on my part, the flavor was great, especially once I started putting the eggs with beans in tortillas and pouring the salsa over it.

Sure the atmosphere was simple and the restaurant was empty, but the food was definitely good and basic.  These in my experience have always been the best Mexican breakfast joints, ignore the decor and sometimes the levels of cleanliness and find you some good meals whether it be huevos divorciados (two eggs one in green and one in red salsa), migas (eggs scrambled with tortilla strips), anything with chorizo (the “healthy” Mexican sausage that may require extra sopping up of grease with a napkin), or once again my personal favorite chilaquiles (tortilla strips in salsa, usually with eggs, and if you are lucky some fajita beef). 

As a preview of my next post, my meal ticket (mom) and sister went to a Houston landmark this weekend that has been on none other than Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives itself, check out the video here for a heads up of the next posting.

The Art of Craft Beer

"From man’s sweat and God’s love, beer came into the world."

-Saint Arnold of Metz

Sounds like St. Arnold was a wise man if you ask me, not to mention the whole multiplying beer story is pretty sweet itself (you can read it here).  Even though Arnold has been dead for hundreds of years, his presence is as strong as ever as the patron saint of brewers and the recent uptick in microbreweries and craft beer. 

I love this current trend, don’t get me wrong I love a good Bud Light, but the ability to pick and choose different styles and flavors of beer makes life that much sweeter.  Houston is late to the scene compared to some of the other cities around the country, but it is starting to come on strong in recent years.  St.  Arnold Brewing Company is the oldest craft brewery in Texas at 16 years old, but in the past year a new face has come to the market and others are preparing to start up. 

Personally, I prefer their Lawnmower and Weedwacker beers over some of their other offerings, especially in this hot Houston summer that we are suffering through these days.  The Lawnmower is a Kölsch with a good crisp cool feeling to it.  While the Weedwacker is an altered version of the Lawnmower with an almost fruitier taste to it and a lighter feel.

I drank my first No Label Brewing Company beer the other night, and needless to say I am a fan.  The brewery started up during 2010 in Katy, Texas a suburb on the west side of Houston in an old rice dryer.  Needless to say I was skeptical as I read the articles that were circulating around various news outlets here in Houston, but these guys certainly seem to know what they are doing.

That evening I enjoyed a couple pints of the Pale Horse Ale (a reference to Revelations 6:8, fortunately the horse was lacking its rider), and would have drank others but the bar was lacking in variety from this start up brewery.  No doubt though, I will be looking for more opportunities later to get my hands on a pint or three of No Label’s delicious offerings.

Now this blog might be a disappointment to some so I will end it with some delicious bar food that Firkin & Phoenix (located on Westheimer near Montrose) had to offer us that evening.  Sure we sampled the standard appetizer fare that you see in most bars, but the star of the show was definitely the pretzels.  The fresh baked jumbo pretzel was perfect with the cold beer, cheese sauce was okay, but let’s be honest this is Texas give me my mustard.

Until next time. 

Where's The Muzak?

Today’s adventure took us to the ancient Southeast Asian land of Vietnam, a place with a rich history and even more delicious food.  My foodventure on the other hand took me all the way to Katy, Texas to Phở Mai on Wintergreen and I-10.  This place is good, but I don’t think they are expecting any awards for service in the near future.  At times they remind me of the Soup Nazi from Seinfeld, you sit down and immediately they ask if you are ready to order and if you are not, so help you God you better be snappy about your decision.

Now for many people the first thought that comes to mind when you start talking Vietnamese food is phở, the piping hot bowl of soup that seems to come in every variety under the sun, and always with a big plate of roughage.  However, in my mind there is a time and place for that 100,000 degree bowl of liquid and it certainly is not July in Houston. 

Nothing like a rotating condiment station to know you are in good hands.

My personal favorite in the Vietnamese noodle house is a scrumptious bowl of heaven known as bún, specifically one that I am not even going to bother trying to write out but it has char grilled pork and an eggroll on vermicelli noodles and veggies.  With of course the Vietnamese staple sauce known as fish sauce, we will not go into details of what it is or how it is made (saw it once on the Travel Channel), no need to cost you your appetite

. 

Alas, today was not the day for that either.  Today my friend was a day for the most glorious sandwich of them all…  A sandwich that makes Subway’s famed $5 foot long look like child’s play.  Yes my friend we are talking about the famed Bánh mì, a fantastic combo of baguette, grilled meat, some variation of veggies, and more cilantro sprigs than you can shake a stick at.  You may ask yourself “Why on earth would there be French baguette running around in the jungles of Vietnam?”, excellent question, for those of you unaware of the history the French once colonized this land and slapped the moniker of French Indochina.  As is often the case when French people show up they leave something behind (usually their guns if in the case of war), and this time it just so happened to include their delicious white bread.

I love this sandwich because of its simplicity, there is no heavy sauce covering up the flavor, just some cucumbers, carrots, nicely flavored grilled pork, and of course a butt load of cilantro which can easily be removed if that isn’t your groove.  The other amazing benefit is that this thing is $3.95, of course the price which leaves room in the budget for another great little item.

Gỏi cuốn, or the summer roll as I have seen it called other places, is always a good side choice.  A nice cool combo of shrimp, pork, and vermicelli all rolled up in some rice paper.  Basically this is an all around cool meal for a nice sweltering day here in Houston. 

Now about that interesting title, normally when I have eaten here in the past I have been serenaded through my noodles or sandwich to the smooth sounds of Kenny G or a nice instrumental version of some Celine Dion song.  It was always comforting to be reminded of being in an elevator, or maybe doctor’s waiting room surrounded by plague victims while I scarf down my meal.  Today Sarah McLachlan was singing to me while I ate, and all I could think of was those SPCA commercials where they show the abused animals.  Kind of a bad feeling when the running joke of Asian food is cat and images of the animal shelter rolling through my mind while I eat some meat, but have no fear, as usual none of it went to waste.

Define Mediterranean

Greetings from Space City

First order of business tonight, the squirrels have struck again.  Evidently the squirrels of my apartment complex (not the cute fluffy kind that populated my beloved alma mater) have a personal vendetta against tomato plants, specifically cherry tomato plants.  I came home to once again find the plant tipped over and looking even closer to death than it was when I found it this way yesterday.  Then the thieving rodent returned as I was sitting in my living room and it steals more branches, and does squirrely things to the poor plant.  Needless to say I am sure its days are numbered.

Now on to the main course.

As the title suggests tonight was an adventure in Mediterranean food.  The original plan was to go to Niko Niko's, the Houston classic (visited by none other by Guy Fieri himself as seen here) located on Montrose.  Sadly the parking lot was full to the brim and it was not a good sign so we opted to venture back down Westheimer and landed at La' Fendee.

This spurred a question in my mind, what exactly does food mean by calling itself Mediterranean?  I mean geographically speaking that is a vague term it could apply to cuisine from Spain, Northern Africa, Greece, Lebanon, Israel, and countless other nations.  So it is always a grab bag of sorts when you walk into one of these places for a first time, me personally I like it all because the food has flavor, but others might not feel the same.

La' Fendee was actually a pleasant surprise, it is a small dining room with a simple menu and a wall of hookahs, and during our time there the primary focus seemed to be the quality summer game shows of ABC. Nothing like a little Wipeout to go with your hummus and gyros.

My meal for the night was a staple of mine when trying a new Med restaurant, a scrumptious falafel sandwich with a side of hummus and grape leaves.  Needless to say this was not the best falafel gyro I have had in this city but the pickles and tomatoes in the sandy made up for a mediocre ball of chickpea.  The grape leaves were also not my favorite, personally I prefer more of an olive oil/citrus flavor but these almost had an alcohol flavor to them but of course I still ate all three, I felt bad for the leaves to be left on the plate.

Finally, as we were preparing to leave there was a plate of baklava that could not be said no to.  I am going to say that these were the best part of the meal, but in the end honey soaked flaky dough is usually delicious and a great way to wrap up the meal.  Unfortunately, my photo taking ability is still rusty and so you only get to admire the end result...

So clearly, it was not too bad but you will just have to take the crumbs words for it.

In terms of recommending this place,  I cannot whole heartedly say drop everything you are doing and cruise on down to Westheimer when there are already so many better tasting (and cheaper) places to get Med food in the Houston metropolis.

Until next time my chirpy little crickets.

The Beginning of the End

Greetings,

And welcome to Glutton for Punishment.

 This blog is going to be centered around my adventures in food, beer, and random musing on life in general.  I am always open to comments and suggestion for ideas or new things to try.  I would also like to say I am not an English teacher so forgive my grammar and let's make the most of these adventures.

-Eric