Better Philanthropy Through Breakfast

Boom:



And lemme tell ya, those MultiGrain Cheerios are the bee's knees.

I Was a Poet Once

Because I mentioned it.

"Ode to Hash"

Ere the break of dawn we came
Upon a place so warm and cheery.
Fort Lou's was this restaurant's name
A beacon in a night so dreary.

Embattled and inebriated
Grouped together with ravenous lust
The waitress was not castigated
In her greasy fare we placed our trust.

To each of us was given one
Of the menus; quite comprehensive.
They foretold gustatory fun
So many foods; we were right pensive.

For her, some eggs; for him, some bacon.
I sat and pondered my digestive fate.
Thank goodness we did not bring Sakin,
His company is not that great.

At last, my eyes did set upon
A glorious dish which I could eat.
Hold on a minute; I must visit the John
And sit upon that porcelain seat.

Back to the table I came with speed,
Still fumbling with my beltlike sash.
No longer could I postpone my need;
I ordered up Poached Eggs and Hash!

Awaiting the arrival of said vittles,
Fraught with anguish I became.
Where is my food? I can't dine on Skittles-
Oh wait...Praise God! It finally came!

Before me the waitress set a mountain
Of provender of regal state.
From my eyes there gushed a fountain;
Tears of joy for such a plate!

Imagine, resting on a platter,
An enormous mound of gourmet hash.
Although such grub doth make me fatter,
Remove it and I'll give you the lash!

Upon the meat (onions mixed in)
Were set two orbs of perfect form.
Twin eggs poached - what esculent sin!
Such late-night victuals are hardly the norm.

Poached eggs are the best compliment
To a hash: hearty, beefy and bold.
A gourmand's favorite aliment,
Its gastric appeal never grows old.

One taste of this edible bliss
Surpasses even a petit mort
I would forego a maiden's kiss
As long as I get more, more, more!

I sincerely hope I have related
My yearning for this fabled fodder.
And for the record it should be stated,
"Man X" soiled a hot Cape Codder.

Now off to Lou's ere break of dawn
After we get our boozing on!

Belated Food Items

A) Very belated props to Dunndee for cooking up some tremazing omelettes the morning after the 4th Annual St. Patty's Day Meat 'n' Meet. There's nothing better than waking up on your couch after having ingested unconscionable amounts of boiled beef, cabbage, and Guinness and having a cheese omelette and a steaming mug of coffee appear in your lap. Who would've thought the kid who singlehandedly brought in record profits for the Peggy Lawton cookie company back in '95-'98 would turn into a single-star chef? (That's an MRhé star, not Michelin.) 10 points.

B) Props to Foonyor "Dr. Poached" Barzane for giving me tips on how to poach eggs. 10 points. Poached eggs are my favorite way to have eggs - I always order them if possible. Poached eggs on hash are a religious experience. In fact I wrote an ode about this very dish a while back. I've never tried making them because I always thought it involved arcane culinary secrets and alchemical equipment; much like my fear of cooking shellfish had been. But I discovered that upon trying it, it is actually quite easy to make perfect, delicious poached eggs.

My method, with a nod to Porkins:

1. Boil water in a small pot
2. Once water is boiling, turn off heat. Keep an eye on the water - once the bubbles become minimal then you can move on to the next step. You want to have the water very hot but not bubbling because you don't want the movement to break up the eggs when you add them.
3. Carefully add the eggs one at a time. I think the key here is to have a good "egg cup." I have these little glass dishes that I use to hold ingredients (like the TV chefs use) that are the perfect size for one egg. I actually put the dish in the water and just tilt it so that the egg slides right in. You can do as many as will fit on the bottom of the pot without dropping them into one another.
4. Let the eggs hang out for a few minutes. You'll find out how long works best depending on how runny you like the yolk.
5. I've been using a strainer to remove the eggs. Carefully pour the water and eggs into a strainer and then transfer to plate, toast, bagel, etc. This allows me to get all the egg. I've tried using a slotted spoon but found that I lost bits of egg and the eggs kept more moisture. I've also tried blotting off some of the excess water with a towel but found that egg stuck that way.
   
6. I've heard about adding vinegar but I haven't used it.
   

C) The first time I made poached eggs it was over red flannel hash - made from the leftovers from the boiled corned beef & cabbage dinner. This hash is reason enough to make the dinner - truly unbelievable. Aside from the actual fresh boiled corned beef (unlike that canned Hormel crap they often serve at low-rent greasy spoons) the mixture of veggies gives it an amazing taste. A couple of perfect poached on top and you're in heaven. Heaven.

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Now 45's cooking up fish in his dishwasher; JCB's making Hollandaise sauce - I'm going to have to step up my game if I'm going to retain my self-appointed title of Resident Chef of the Triumvirate...might have to do up a tête de veau or a soufflé or something soon.

Breakfast Musings

• Why do those Tropicana Tropics juice mixes like Orange Peach Mango and Orange Strawberry Banana all have white grape juice prominently in the ingredient and flavor profile but not on the label? On a related note, the Orange Peach Mango [White Grape] is delish.

• Not sure when these came out, but they only recently appeared in the Goose - "gourmet" Philadelphia cream cheese spreads including Spinach & Artichoke and Sundried Tomato & Basil. Tasty, although my heart will always belong to the Chives & Onion.

Bacon, Glazed

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Day 4: Bulls & Bulmers

This is one of a series of entries from my travel journal chronicling my recent trip to Europe. You can click here for the archived entries.

Day 3 | Day 5

Bushe's Bar, Baltimore, W. Cork, Rep. of Ireland 09/06/08

I woke up this morning shortly before noon to the sound of people leaving. I found myself alone, my Mom typically having refused to wake me up despite my interest in the day's activities. I had gone so far as to pull my blind all the way up the night before; it was partially successful as I awoke around 8:30 or so but quickly fell back asleep. Next thing I know it's 3 1/2 hours later and I'm all alone. I located a note on the kitchen table saying that everyone had gone off on the ferry to Sherkin Island. There were many trips in the afternoon on the ferry schedule so I opted to shoot for the 2pm ferry. I cooked up an "Irish" breakfast with eggs and bacon I had purchased the day before. The bacon was different than that in the States. Thicker, fatty around the edges, much saltier (if that's even possible) and tasted more like ham than what we Americans are used to. I imagine the cut of meat and curing process are very different. Although different, it was great along with the eggs, soda bread, and some tea. I caught some Irish soap operas as I ate (same bad plots and acting but with more interesting accents) and then made my way down to the ferry at the harbor.

Sherkin is a sizeable island just 10 minutes' ferry ride from Baltimore Harbor. There's an old friary that they've been reconstructing in recent years as well as a "castle" - really just a bunch of ivy-covered stones with a bunch of modern equipment lying around ruining what little historic effect it retained.

Only a few minutes after I had gotten off the ferry and had begun meandering up a path did I hear, "Mike! Michael!" and turned around to see my early-rising relatives just down the path behind me. We decided to head out to Sherkin Light, which is the small lighthouse that we had seen directly across from the Beacon yesterday. We walked down a path which we thought was the correct way (although with little confidence) and came across a small schoolhouse with a woman out front. Mom asked her the way to the lighthouse and she went to get her husband:

-"Oh it's been some time since I've taken the walk meself but it's a nice walk. Follow this path a ways and you'll come to a low stone wall. At the end of the wall turn...left...yes, left. Stay on that path and you'll come to a sign that says, "Caution: Bull" but don't worry, I don't think there's a bull there anymore."
-(General city-slicker nervousness, questioning glances, discussion of turning around and retracing our steps to go the other way.)
-"Well I think this way will be better. T'other might be a bit shorter but this is more scenic."

So we set off on a bit of a hike - bulls be damned in the name of scenery! - walking down a very quiet, country island path. We came upon a swan at ease in a cove. After we snapped a few shots she took off, skimming along the water with a great honking, sounding not unlike my uncle who had been suffering due to his allergies and the preponderance of flora around us. Eventually we made it to the end of the short stone wall which our guide mentioned and embarked on a hike up a path leading us to Horseshoe Bay. This was an idyllic hike through lovely greenery, the occasional cottage, and impressive vistas of hills, ponds, breakwaters, and other nice natural scenery. After a while we came right up in front of some Sherkin Islander's house that just overlooked Horseshoe Bay - and what an amazing sight it was. In true form to its name, the Bay carved out a wide circle from its narrow opening. The view was just incredible. Words fail me - clear blue water bordered by rocky promontories and beaches in a lush, green bowl of a valley - it was majestic.

At this point however we had to retrace our steps, being close to the southern tip of the Bay and having no way to cross if we had kept going. So we cut back and meandered down and around the Bay. We went down to the water's edge and took some cool pics at low tide. Very rocky with a lot of seaweed, moss, lichen, and flowers growing down by the shore, which provided us with a wonderfully colorful view. We regained our path and made it up and around to the opposite side of the Bay, past the Horseshoe Cottage Bed & Breakfast, where we came to a fenced-in area. The sign on the gate read:

Caution: BULL
Unauthorized Access Forbidden

Despite our local guide's warning us of this exact landmark, we were understandably nervous. The last thing one wants is to be gored to death trying to get a few pics of a lighthouse, right? My Mom was good enough to wander into the B & B and ask ("Oh we don't think there's a bull. Only cows.") so we pressed on with trepidation ("Liam, be sure to take off that red hat!") past the hopefully specious warning. My aunt's concern however did not extend to keeping my 11 year-old cousin out of the lead - or perhaps this was planned? Either way we trudged onward through a path that became less and less of one as we kept going forward, and had to dodge a large number of cowpies which appeared with increasing frequency and freshness. These were impressive excretory deposits, measuring about a foot in circumference and several inches high - wet, stinking mounds of processed grass having traveled through the cows' many stomachs and intestines. Amazing objects from a scatalogical perspective.

Just over the ridge we saw the lighthouse, which comprised a tiny cottage and a 15-foot high light tower, but the view - oh the view. It had to have been the most amazing, majestic, picturesque, pick-your-superlative view I have ever seen. Truly a jaw-dropping experience. It was a gorgeous, bright, sunny day and we could see clear across to the Beacon as well as the rest of Baltimore and a great deal of Roaringwater Bay. A tremendous experience, well worth the hike and theoretical bulls.

We made our way back to the ferry by taking the second route offered to us by our friend (would've saved us about 45 minutes' worth of time as well as innumerable brambles and cowpies but to be honest the way we went was far superior in terms of view, adventure, experience and enjoyment. Everyone else wanted to catch the 4:15 ferry (it was around 3:45) but I wanted to explore the rest of the island a bit having been abandoned by Mom that morning.

We parted ways and I went searching for the "Dock Studio," which I took to be some sort of artistic endeavor. The sign claimed it was 3/4 mile down the road. Even by Irish standards of distance, I walked for a long time without finding it. I decided to cut my losses rather than traverse the entire island and head to the Jolly Roger, one of two pubs on the island (apparently this is what Bob Clarke meant when he said, "a bit of a pub scene").

The place wasn't exactly bustling. There was a table of four or five laborers out front and a young local woman with her beautiful baby inside, along with the young female bartender with too many piercings and unflattering camouflage pants. The dogs running around the place inside and out outnumbered the people by at least 2:1. I grabbed a pint of Guinness and today's Irish Times and set to quenching my thirst, whiling away the time until the next ferry and trying to make sense of the upcoming Lisbon Treaty vote - a referendum for Ireland's participation in an otherwise unanimous EU treaty (curious that Ireland alone refers such decisions to the people instead of letting the politicians decide). I enjoyed my drink but it was difficult to fit in - one American amidst a group of Sherkin Islanders blathering away in English - albeit a slangy, heavily accented English - in which the only words I understood were the admittedly quite frequent profanities - so I drank up and left. Turns out the timing was good because the rest of the crew had to wait for the 17:00 ferry anyway because the earlier one had been cancelled.

We headed back to Baltimore. I sat outside Bushe's Bar for a few minutes in the brilliant sunshine enjoying my first extremely refreshing pint of Bulmers cider (I saw many others drinking it over ice - next time I get it I plan on doing the same). Back to the house to regroup and then I returned to Bushe's for a couple pints of Guinness, a crab sandwich (fresh, simple, and delicious) and some postcard- and journal-writing. My relatives joined me; Mom was convalescing. We took a sunset walk up along the hill behind the town which was very nice. We ended the night with wine, cheese and plans to head out to the Beara Peninsula tomorrow to check out where my grandfather's parents came from.

My Big Fat Greek Breakfast

Last Saturday, on the morning following My Big Fat Greek Dinner, I used some of the leftover ingredients to make My Big Fat Greek Breakfast. This was a big omelette (3 eggs) of ridiculous deliciousness: red onions, spinach, sundried tomatoes, kalamata olives, and feta cheese. Yummopolis, Hellas:

Wares, Various & Sundry

• If you had told me before yesterday's game that Beckett would fan 13(!) and only allow 2 runs (1 earned) over 7 IP, I would not expect that the Sox would go on to lose 3-zip. Swept by the G-damn [Devil] Rays. Grim. Back home tomorrow to offset this 5-game losing streak.
• Next time you have some bacon lying around, put it on top of your onion bagel smothered with cream cheese. It will change your life, and make Monday morning immeasurably better.
• I got a hit from someone in Cali searching for "joe chat 2008." This makes me very happy.
  

Early Morning Heart Attack

Marathon Monday Breakfast Sammich:

1 everything bagel
2 over-medium eggs
3 slices bacon
rather a lot of cheddar cheese

Toast to achieve full melty-ness. You may want to keep the crash cart handy.

Huevos y Chili

This morning I took a page from the Doc's cookbook and dropped a couple eggs into the remaining portion of my leftover Victory Chili. Cooked that up along with the necessary fixings (cheddar cheese, sour cream, diced scallions and red onion). Absolutely delicious.

Warning: Consuming Victory Chili in the morning may result in prolonged methane emissions for the remainder of the day.

A Very Bacon Saturday

For breakfast this morning I made glazed bacon (of course) and a frittata of sorts. Both came out so good that I have decided to regale you with tales of my culinary dabblings.

For the glazed bacon I poured apple cider into a bowl and let a few strips of bacon marinate in there for a while. I followed my normal recipe for glazed bacon, retaining maybe a couple tablespoons of the apple cider and adding brown sugar for the glaze. The bacon came out really delicious, with a very strong apple flavor.

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For the frittata I took four slices of bacon and chopped them up pretty fine. I fried this up in a pan, rendering the fat, and then added the following:

3 small mushrooms, diced
1 celery stalk, diced
1 small carrot, diced
1 small onion, diced
1 small Yukon Gold potato, diced
a few pinches of salt & pepper

I fried this over high heat for a while, then turned it down to med-high and covered it, letting it cook a bit in its own steam, occasionally stirring it up. I scrambled three eggs and then poured it over the mixture. I could have easily used 4-5 eggs to really cover everything, but at this point I already had more food than I needed for myself. I let the egg make its way throughout the mixture, giving it some gentle stirring. After a few minutes the egg bound the mixture together and created a sort of frittata. It came out really tasty, and with very little seasoning. The bacon flavor permeated throughout, and the mix of veggies worked great.

I'm thinking 2008 might be the Year of Bacon.

Glazed Bacon: An Introduction

A few words on how to glaze bacon, by special request.

First, I have to give credit to Adam Ried, whose article, "Bacon Improvement," in the cooking section of The Boston Globe on the 23rd of September sparked my now three month-long dalliance with this candied meat.

Second, and I believe this to be true about bacon preparation in general: put aside that frying pan! Baking is the key to perfect bacon, especially when glazing is involved. While it takes longer than frying, baking ensures flat, evenly cooked bacon every time. Also, when preparing big breakfasts for many people, cooking the bacon in the oven frees up valuable space on the stovetop.

Read Ried's article for his insight. My method differs in a few areas, but here's how I've been glazing my bacon recently:

The Bacon

1. Preheat the oven to 350.
2. Line a baking pan with aluminum foil and place a wire rack on top.
3. Lay the bacon strips out on the rack and insert into the oven when it is heated. I recommend using decent bacon - I've had success with Boar's Head and Oscar Meyer.
   
4. Depending upon how you like your bacon, cook for 10-15 minutes. You're going to cook it further and glaze both sides, so take it out when it's slightly less done than you prefer.
5. Remove the bacon and brush half of the glaze onto each piece. Put back in the oven for another 3-5 minutes.
6. Remove the bacon after time has elapsed, or after the pieces have acquired a sheen. Flip over each piece and brush them with the remaining glaze.
7. Cook for another 3-5 minutes or until the second side glistens. Remove and indulge in the marriage of sweet and savory.

The Glaze

Ried recommends 3 Tbsp brown sugar and 2 Tbsp orange juice for glazing a pound of bacon. I generally cook 4-5 strips if I'm just making it for myself, and I eyeball the measurement. The first time I made this I used too much OJ and the glaze was far too liquid. It didn't adhere to the bacon as well and the lower sugar content resulted in a less than satisfactory glaze.

In recent incarnations I've upped the sugar-to-OJ ratio. High sugar content will produce a thick, glistening lacquer.

Maple syrup on its own also works fabulously as a glaze. Use the real stuff.

I haven't tried any of Ried's variations yet, but I'd like to. Experiment with whatever suits you. I think apple cider would do wonders. The sky's the limit, really - just remember that the sugar content in your glaze has to be cavity-inducing to produce the kind of lustrous sheen desirable in lacquered bacon.

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Glazed bacon is an improvement on perfection, make no mistake. That first taste of sweetness followed by the salty, meaty essence of a quality piece of bacon will make you a believer. If you are ever lucky enough to be served breakfast Chez MRhé, there's a very good chance glazed bacon will make an appearance.

Happy glazing!