Hungry Times Two

I just saw this and thought - now THIS is funny! Marmite is the UK's origin of Australia's Vegemite - a truly bitter, yet somehow pleasing substance of yeast extract that's pretty good when spread with butter on toast.

Check this out! Our friends Eleni (a-lane-ee) and Joelle own Savor the Flavor catering and have started offering cooking classes . If their Facebook link shows up correctly, you get to see people cooking things from sushi to Italian to Greek (Eleni's family is Greek, so she's got special insight into ingredients and cooking methods for Greek cuisine). Way to go Eleni and Joelle - you're making better cooks of all of us!

Serious Eats, a blog I follow, has a poll today concerning the restaurant trend of small plates - debating whether they are a cool, Tapas- esque thing, or a way lame attempt to cheat their patrons. I have to laugh because I'm always a little nervous when Scott and I dine somewhere that offers small plates in lieu of entree-size portions. With the opportunity to taste a variety of things, I love the concept. However, Scott is wary of anything "small" about a meal. The man requires certain amounts of food, and anything less is just a big damn shame. Recently we took two friends visiting from Nashville to a Greek/Middle Eastern place where we each selected two things to try. Between the four of us, I felt we all received enough food and the price was just fine. Scott didn't speak up to say if he was satisfied, and I didn't ask, but his raid of the pita basket to sop up the remaining sauces and bits on each plate indicated maybe not so much. Is it a total racket for ...

Confession: Visiting Richmond, Va. this weekend, I had a couple moments where I seemed to channel my late grandmother of fabulousness , Coxey . Whenen taken aback by a sinfully wonderful dessert or food, she would exclaim (with hand to her chest as if clutching a strand of imaginary pearls) "My my, that is almost too rich to eat." I held off from breaking out her famous little expression but if the truth be told, I would have worn myself out using it. I didn't know it before I visited, but Richmond has some pretty amazing restaurant offerings. Big ups to my friend and resident of Richmond, Victoria, for selecting unique and gobsmackingly -good places. Let's get started with Lulu's , which started our trend of visiting comfortable, intimate cafes with lots of original, local-themed artwork this weekend. Though originally we planned on visiting the Shockoe Bottoms Tomato Festival, the 106 degree weather killed that plan, so we hit up Lulu's for some A/C and co...

Let's just all acknowledge this for a second: barbecue is an art form. It takes time, effort, patience, and a lot of smoke, heat, and know-how to create the final masterpiece. Luckily, Scott and I were invited by a new friend to a 21-year gathering centered around the glory of pork in Cheverly, Md. last eve. I figured it would be a casual deal so I made some blue cheese potato salad and prepared to eat some grilled meat. I had no idea that I was about to take part in quite the ceremonial affair. Our hosts' home was decked out in pig paraphernalia - pig string lights, tin signs, porcelain figures, photos, framed note cards, and even a pig in a tree. After the hosts and I chatted and they learned I was from North Carolina, instantly I had to ante up and confess my favorite regional style of 'cue in the Good Ol' North State. As I pledge allegiance to the Lexington style of pulled pork with a red ketchup and vinegar-based sauce, I was told that I should have been there la...

HTT had quite the holiday weekend, food-wise , and info is coming soon on that, so stay tuned! In the meantime, give it up for this man at Moishes Kosher Bakery , serving up some ridiculously tasty rugalah . Photo courtesy of Amy Blaszyk My friend and co-worker Amy did a whirlwind trip to NYC over the weekend and brought back some goodies to share. They were like buttah ! (Amy recently did a story for WAMU on the Twitter/food truck phenomenon around DC - check it out!) Mazel Tov , y'all.

Yes, it's a worn-out topic at this point, just a mere five days past the official Summer Solstice - it's really freakin' hot outside. So let this be my last grumbling about the heat on this here blog - can't speak for Scott, but I do want to just let the bitching about the heat go, as it's nothing I can personally control. Unless God (or the great Creator, whomever he or she may be that controls the Almighty Global Thermostat) decides to help us all about and turn down the temps any time soon, we just need to flat-out deal. And chill. The best way to do so? No, not Gin and Tonics, though they are a close second or third behind stripping down naked and finding someone to fan you down while feeding you iced and peeled grapes. It's iced tea, people - the good, old-fashioned, non-alcoholic (though you could add some Firefly if you're feeling frisky) beverage of choice, and sweetened for those of who grew up south of the Mason-Dixon. Scott and I have enjoyed rou...

Beets. Gravlax . Dill. Cabbage. Not your usual fare, but such are the components of Scandinavian and Eastern European food, courtesy of the darling/funky restaurant Domku in DC's Petworth 'hood. When a friend suggested we meet there last night, I assumed it might be a Sushi or Japanese steakhouse place. A quick check on the Interwebs proved me wrong: Swedish/Russian/Polish/Finnish/etc. is what it's all about. Decor included chandeliers, oddball art on the walls that reminded me of Bosch or Van Eyck , light fixtures of precious wire wreaths of flowers and twinkle lights, and thrift store- esque mismatched tables and chairs. Shabby-Euro Chic, for sure. Our salad of grated beet, carrot, apple and cucumber with a horseradish kick was very sharp, crisp and tangy. My dish of crepes with buckwheat and cheese were creamy and filling, while Scott's pierogis looked more like Asian wontons and were bland and not very substantial for his appetite. Bonus points for the atmos...

Apparently, there comes a time in every Caucasian's food experience when they're gonna get denied. I'm talking about the ethnic food line in which us white peeps do not dare to cross. Our delicate vanilla taste buds just will not be able to handle it, according to the culinary gatekeepers to the ethnic realm. Such was the case this weekend with a friend and myself, both of us of the Caucasian persuasion who consider ourselves fairly adventurous. We attended the most awesome Passport to DC Embassy Row tour , taking in the music, food, dancing and cultural offerings of the embassies of Thailand, Saudi Arabia, Iraq, Brazil and Cape Verde. Thailand had it going on, food-wise. While my friend and I watched a Thai cook prepare our papaya salad as she crushed all the makings in a huge mortar/pestle situation, we noticed a crock of black something or another on the food table. "What's that?," my friend asked. "Fermented crab. Not for you," was the reply. ...

Thus far in our married life routine of juggling family time, Scott and I developed a pretty awesome and efficient holiday routine - Thanksgiving with his clan, Christmas with mine. It works because it boils down to two things: Thanksgiving is about food, which the Adams Family has down to a big ol' literal gravy-covered T, and Christmas is of course about all things red, green, and white with Santa and Baby Jesus guest-starring, the lot of which my Mother Margaret smothers and covers all over the damn place. I love Thanksgiving at the in-laws because of the sheer number of them. Growing up, it was my parents and me, the only child, with widowed grandmothers and the occasional aunt, uncle and cousin thrown in the mix. I became used to the holidays being pretty intimate, but now that I have a wealth of in-laws, it's so fun to see all the personalities and the food preferences gel and collide. This year, the in-laws hosted at the family house at Sullivan's Island, South Carol...

Well good grief, Charlie Brown - the only thing bigger than the Great Pumpkin in the room is that white elephant of guilt - ya know, the big, angsty feeling of " Oh hey, we abandoned the blog for two months. Whoopsies." Good thing this baby doesn't need to be watered or fed. Well, I suppose it does, as blogs that go stagnant for too long are a drag. I know I feel that way about a couple or two blogs I keep up with - they're well intentioned but if they don't' stay fresh, they're like the abandoned produce in the crisper drawer - a damn dirty shame. The main excuse - Scott and I honestly are in the midst of trying to get it all sorted out - this life thing. Job searches, relocation tactics, the whole "What does it all mean" scenario... I know, "WHATEVER, Erin, just get back to talking about what food you made or ate yesterday, what you wanna eat today, and what you might be thinking of eating tomorrow." Well, okay then. It's November...

Introducing, in limited markets, KFC's Double Down Chicken Sandwich. A co-worker alerted me to this monstrosity; yet another reason us Americans cain't get no respect when it comes to our cookin'. Behold: two fried chicken fillets swathed in bacon, cheese and KFC "Colonel Sauce." Wow. I didn't think US waistlines could get any bigger, but I think this might help us all achieve our dreams. Aim for the stars, fatties, and grab you some Pepto Bismol while you're at it.

NPR's Morning Edition is presently running a cool series on farm-fresh food finds, sending reporters out to farmer's markets across the country for the freshest picks on the vine. Their template is incredibly well-designed - click on a food product and up comes an article, food facts on the featured tasty treat, and recipes. Yet another reason to blissfully geek out over public radio, and more reasons to support small farms.

Dumb blog title...just needed something. I'm looking for a festival to travel to and enjoy, as Scott and I planned on attending the Southern Foodways Alliance symposium this October in Oxford, Miss. up until I realized that no, the cost isn't $55 per person, it's $550. As much as we love our grits and red eye gravy, our Dr. Peppa, and our fried okra, there's no way in haaaaaaaaaaaeell we can pony up that amount of cash to geek it up with the rest of the southern-fried foodies. Thus, I'm scoping out a cool food-beer-art-culture celebration in a place we haven't visited for the mid to late fall, maybe in the south, as Louisiana and Mississippi are the two states we're curious to see before we flee westward. However if it's in the Midwest or Up North, we might consider those. I love festivals for their down-home hokey qualities, the way that towns or regions tout their one special thing that they do better than anyone else, and for the communal vibe. I real...

We and some friends of ours saw Tableland , the first of several food-related films being shown as part of local food film series. We're not pure Slow Food members or anything like that .. yet .. but we do strive for local food via the Farmer's Market, etc. (saw Jeff Themm, Nashville Farmer's Market Exec. Dir. in audience). The film festival 's running 6:30 p.m., every Tuesday, from June 16-23, so check out a film or two if you live in Middle Tennessee. One of the best characters from the film is an B.C. oysterman named Brent Petkau. He not only hauls in some tasty looking bivalves, he waxes poetic on them and " The Oyster Revolution ." Seriously, he's great, as are all of the chefs, farmers, etc. in the film. There's also the guy from Soiled Reputation that also had some notable quotes. Lastly, I finally saw a face behind a name, something of a food celebrity sighting: Pete , of Pete's Green's. Somehow, I'd heard the company name ...

Here's a well-written article from The Root, a black-oriented 'zine, on shattering the Soul Food stereotypes typically associated with black cuisine. I don't know about you, but I could go for some sauteed okra and grilled grit cake right about now! Admittedly I pigeonhole a great deal of black-owned restaurants here in Nashville as unhealthy and overcooked. Sweatt's , Monell's and even Prince's Hot Chicken are places you go once and then stay away, because salt, sugar and grease, though tasty, can be downright deadly. Perhaps because I can count on one hand the times I have spent at the dinner table of a black family, I assume through such respectable and accurate depictions of black culture in Soul Food and The Nutty Professor ("Hercules, Hercules!") that so much of black food is mac 'n cheese, chitlins and collard greens. The Root article proves otherwise, that so much of black food is intended to be unpretentious, fresh, local and real...