Hey Foodie Friends,
As I think many of you know by now, I grew up in the wide-open, mostly quiet Midwest…Michigan to be exact. Where summer suppers meant bringing home fresh corn on the cob from roadside stands set up in front of the growing fields, shucked in the back yard under shade trees on the picnic table, then briefly boiled so as to still be a bit crunchy, and lastly basted in salted butter that made them taste like you feel when you know someone loves you. After the feast there was often Mom’s homemade apple or berry pies still slightly warm from the oven, sitting on the window sills, attracting honey bees, that God forbid, never leave us as they play a huge part in keeping us all fed and alive…awaiting a large and proper scoop of vanilla ice cream…yeah, if you’re asking…those memories really do still live within me and for some reason, the older I get the stronger and more frequently I visit them.
But at an early age, curiosity pulled me farther. First to NYC, where I got my first taste of fine French cuisine…where I learned to respect the discipline of the brigade of line cooks who often swore at me in French for the mistakes this ‘DSK’ from Michigan made, to their reverence for butter, and the poetry of the perfect sauces they meticulously created each morning.
Then later to Italy, where I discovered another level of joyous cooking not necessarily shared by the French….loud kitchens, laughter, and ingredients that didn’t need fixing because they were already beautifully singing out just in their rawness.
So, my heart is, and I cook in, the intersection of all three places: the heart of the Midwest, the technique and coaxed flavors of France, and the joyful, sharing soul of Italy. I like to think my food is honest, generous, a little nostalgic, and always rooted in the belief that the best dishes tell the story of where you’ve been when shared with others.
But right now, I’m wearing the big ass, beautiful, black Stetson cowboy hat the my dear friends Mike & Nancy Thompson bought be for my recent birthday because I’m cooking up a classic breakfast dish that rolls from Arizona, through Texas and into the deep Southeastern states…I’m talkin’ bout ‘Chicken Fried Steak & Eggs’. Now, full transparency as the political candidates all like to spout, I’m not a big breakfast guy…but…very rarely on the weekends, after a few 5:00 AM cups black French Roast coffees have left me buzzing, I’ll develop a late morning appetite and there is one dish I find myself jonesing for.
Now the typical steak served in this dish is a sorry-ass cut of top or bottom round that is pounded and needled to death sold as ‘cubed steak’. As I was writing this post I started wondering where that term came from and discovered that some genius claimed that the name came from “the distinctive, crisscrossing pattern of indentations left on the meat during the tenderizing process”…Wow…now isn’t that some romantic marketing language…doubt that this brother is still employed by the meat people. (As a side bar however, there is something to be said for culinary wordsmithing….the lowly ‘Patagonian Toothfish’ went from selling for under $20 a pound decades ago to the current $50 a pound price at Gelson’s after switching the name to what is now known as ‘Chilean Sea Bass’…seriously people?)
Anyway, back to the dish at hand. I prefer to use filet mignon for this dish for a number of reasons. Firstly, after cutting the beautiful perfectly symmetrical filets from the heart of the tenderloin, there is always the tail piece left which is very thin and not suitable as a steak so at my Taverns we cut it into small cubes, skewer, and grill it and served with pearl onions, mushrooms and napped with Bearnaise sauce, it becomes one of our most popular appetizers. Secondly, being the most tender cut of beef, it lends itself perfectly to pounding into a flat disc and can be flash fried to create the delicious crust that this dish is famous for, while still being pink and moist on the inside. The last crowning detail for this dish is always some type of pan gravy, often made with a dash of coffee….no thanks…I’ve tried that and already have already had my share of life’s bitterness. I’ve always said that the reason my Fried Chicken is the #1 selling entrée is because of the thyme gravy and it’s also a perfect fit for this dish. Served with a couple sunnyside farm fresh eggs and crisp tater tots* and you’ve got yourself one helluva satisfying breakfast and, coincidentally, it’s available every weekend this month for lunch and Sunday Brunch at my Tavern at the Mission.
Tino & I hope you swing by and give it try…promise you will not be disappointed.
P.S.
*I have to tell you about tater tots and a lady who had recently dined with us and wrote a Yelp review about her Avocado Toast Bennedict. She said she would have given us a 5 star rating except for the ‘yucky’ tots served, a term not normally associated with qualified restaurant reviewers, so instead she gave us 4 stars. HEY LADY…dissing on tots just seems un-American. Did you know that there are 5.7 billion or 70 million tots sold each year in the US? Fun fact…they were developed in 1953 when American frozen food company Ore-Ida founders Nephi Grigg, Golden Grigg and Ross Erin Butler Sr. were trying to devise a recipe to use leftover slivers of cut potatoes that would otherwise be thrown away. They chopped up the slivers, add flour and seasoning, then pushed the mash through holes and sliced off pieces of the extruded mixture…..and now you know.
You’re Welcome….
D 2.0 & T
