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Monday, July 31, 2006

To Market


Julie from A Finger in Every Pie had a deep, thought provoking post about grocery stores, local food, and consumer tradeoffs when it comes to purchasing. It's really very good and if you want to read it yourself-here's the link: http://fingerineverypie.typepad.com/my_weblog/2006/07/resistance.html

Personally, I relish a little wrestling with my own conscience (works up an appetite). I did manage to absorb her points and I would like to expand on what she says in a way that will sound very spoiled. To soften the blow, I would like to preface the post with Thank God I have a choice in anything-much less where I eat, what I eat, and who I buy from. I am privileged beyond reason just to be alive and live where I live.

Now-on to the elitist snobbery:

For five years we lived in a small town-close to everything but not really anywhere on it's own. When we first moved there, it was nigh impossible to get any produce that wasn't cardboard. Tomatoes bought in the summertime were shipped from Canada. Why would southerners prefer tomatoes shipped from Canada? I mean no ill-will to Canadians and appreciate the exchange rate when necessary. However, a tomato that can be shipped from anywhere is unrelated to a tomato that that tastes like the sun. So produce was difficult to source but you could always grow it yourself. Sorry, I'm digressing rapidly into a discussion of produce quality.

Want specialty meats or breads? Ethnic ingredients? Wine? Organic? How about just unprocessed? Forget it. Out of necessity (my definition), I began shopping at multiple grocery stores. My weekly shopping grew into an all out planned assault. I would shop locally for as much as possible-staples, household supplies, canned and frozen veggies. Then, I would drive 40 minutes to a wholesale warehouse for diapers, meat, snacks. On the way home, I would spend the best part of the day at a specialty market. Or two.

Our small town grew while we were there and the shopping got better. The ethnic foods in particular increased by a hundredfold-especially things with Latin flare. It is now possible to find jalepenos and organic milk in the most upscale grocery store in town. Now that I've moved, my local grocery store stocks most items-including organic, ethnic, specialty, and reasonably decent produce. However, I realized while reading Julie's post that I still visit a minimum of 3 food markets a week. Hmmmm......

I am also reading Jamie's Kitchen: A Cooking Course for Everyone (http://www.jamieoliver.com/). The opening chapter is about how to shop. He recommends telling the vendor when the display is just not up to par.

All of these influences led to a convergence in my brain. Why don't you see reviews on markets or grocery stores? It's not that much different than a restaurant. For me it's probably more important than restaurant reviews. I might visit a restaurant once a week. A new restaurant-once a month max. But imagine if a foody recommended a grocery store to you. Told you all the highlights (and lowlights). Part of shopping is the experience, the possibilities, and ultimately the choice. You might see a grocery post soon!

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

Peak City



I sent this review to my good friend ec in April. It was my birthday, the first time we'd visited peak city, and I was 3 weeks into a prolonged, extended move. So, here's my initial reaction to Peak City Grill(http://www.thepeakcitygrill.com/) in Apex:


When you enter peak city grill, you are greeted by the standard college coed in black-on-black ensemble. Cheery smiles with a hint of intelligent sarcasm give a glimmer of the meal to come. Ella or Frank is blaring, but somehow you can still carry on lively conversation with your immediate table. Maybe the high ceilings or the brick walls contribute but the room is busy, lively-but you cannot hear the table next to you.

There are long, red painted benches instead of upholstered booths. There is gleaming white china with full 5 course silver laid out perfectly on black tablecloths. The service is prompt, knowledgeable, and welcoming. The food-well- the food is almost perfect.

For starters, we had confetti bruschetta. Slivers of toast slathered with goat cheese. Red and yellow grape tomatoes, onions, and garlic heaped on top with balsamic vinegar drizzled over the top.

K. got a salad with arugula, strawberries, pralines, goat cheese and a strawberry cream vinaigrette. It tasted like the perfection that only strawberries in season can be.

For entrees there was a pork loin wrapped in bacon atop a polenta cake with lobster and guyere. The outside was crisp, the center creamy. Served like a sandwich-wilted spinach smushed between a crisp polenta cake and a slab of pork. There was also a sirloin with a portabella rub and a tomato basil sauce for dipping.

For the toddler, there was a creamy orichetti with a crunchy bread crumb top.

And the wine! There is a whole page of wines by the glass-for red wines. And another for white. Your glass is not small either. You will be toast if you drink more than 2 of Peak City's glasses of wine.

I gave it 3.5 stars. I recommended it to friends. I sang with glee about the local talent in my new home town.

I have to eat my words. I was wrong. It was an anomaly. We have since been back to this restaurant 7 times. Each time there is a item we eat that shows promise and keeps the hope alive that one day I can resume my love affair with this restaurant. But each time we visit, my well of enthusiasm decreases. Forgive my fatalism, but after last week's visit, I've reached an all time low.

What could have happened? I'll tell you. In detail-at least until I'm too sad about it to go on and must resort to eating ice cream in my pajamas on the couch.

The wait staff is less concerned with serving and more focused on fraternizing-with each other. While the wine list is still extensive and generous, you have no idea whether you actually got the wine you ordered because the wait staff forgets as soon as they place the order at the bar. There are times when there aren't enough waiters to serve you effectively. There are also times when the hostesses take 5 minutes to decide where, exactly to seat you-in an empty restaurant. Management issues and training glitches are not insurmountable obstacles. It's possible even that my experiences are flukes or a temporary (yet prolonged) strike of experienced staff. Some nights, the wait staff gathers in the bar and snuggles while they wait on orders to come up. Another night, they talk loudly about where to go 'party' after work. At any rate, poor service is easily rectified if by better management.

So let's move on to the food.

Every time we go to Peak City (excepting the first) half our menu selections have been under-performers. Now, you could say-"You pessimist! Half your food was fabulous!" And you'd be right. That's why I keep going back. I can honestly say I've had the strawberry arugula salad at it's Peak-and I've had the cardboard version. I've had the confetti bruschetta sing in my mouth-and last week, I had stale bread slathered with goat cheese and tomatoes with brown seeds. I would have returned it to the kitchen but my waitress only came back to my table once-with the check. My overall point is, when we eat at this restaurant, we have to order double the amount of food we really want because half of it will not live up to it's potential.

I know, I know-how will they improve if I don't complain. I'm not sure they care to. Peak City has the capability to be great-but they seem to be content with being underachievers. I reduce my rating to 2 stars with a heavy warning to expect that you will be dining at a chain restaurant-not a local bistro. Who knows! You may be surprised!

Sunday, July 23, 2006

Refresh


We've recently moved into a new neighborhood (which would take several posts to highlight properly). The point of the mention is to bring up that we don't know our neighbors. At all. Now, our house is chock full of extremely gregarious people. Even our dog is uber friendly. While we have met a few neighbors, we just weren't satisfied with the scope of knowledge. Not being very passive people by nature (actually, we're all pretty scary if you're shy or at all introspective),we decided to throw a party. Invites went into mailboxes up and down our street for cocktails and snacks from 3-6 on Saturday.

Several fantastic neighbors called with regrets. One couple stopped by with regrets (and brownies!) But, there were still several neighbors unaccounted for. Were we having a party or just going to have cocktail hour alone? We weren't sure so-we expanded the invite to include friends, coworkers, real estate agent, etc.

In the end, we only ended up with about 15 people coming over but what a lively bunch! I met a few neighbors plus my husband's new boss and wife. There were a passel of kids upstairs. The house was ringing with laughter and that is the point.

Of course, I made enough food so that no one would be hungry if the entire neighborhood showed up. It is my pseudo-religious belief that tables are not fully utilized unless the boards are groaning under massive weight of the food. The upside of this belief system is that I can have my pick of leftovers for several days. I have big plans for the coming week for the pulled chicken and crab empandas waiting anxiously in the fridge for me to decide their fate.

The other nice thing about having people over, is I can make something that I've never tried before. If I don't like it, other people will either dilute the amount leftover or convince me to try it again. Yesterday, I made a Jicama/Cantaloupe salad that is so tantalizing, I thought I'd share the recipe. My version is based on the one from Cocina De La Familia by Marilyn Tausend with Miguel Ravago (http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0684818183/ref=sr_11_1/002-6856473-3251234?ie=UTF8). Their cookbook was given to me years ago by my lovely friend ec and i have yet to be disappointed with a thing in it. Here's my version:


1/2 jicama fruit peeled and cut into slivers
1/3 cup orange juice
1/2 cantaloupe seeded and cubed
1 large tomatoe diced (or 2 small)
2-3 oranges-peeled, segmented, diced
2 green onions-sliced fine with some green parts
Juice of 1 lime
1 tsp dried red chile
dash of kosher salt

Basically, you chop and dice everything and through it together. Do the jicama first since it's difficult to destruct-at least the first time you meet a jicama. Toss it with the orange juice and let it sit while you chop the rest. The result is a colorful blend of sweet and spicy.

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

Sugar


Sugar. The sweet life.

What does a perfect day look like? I had one on Sunday. Here's the playlist:

Step 1: Leave husband and child at home while you meet a dear friend for breakfast. Preferrably at a hip coffee spot in a charming neighborhood. Shawntel suggested The Third Place Coffehouse and then she treated me unexpectedly to breakfast (thanks Shawntel!). A chocolate croissant never tasted so good.

Step 2: Go to church. I know this doesn't necessarily sound like part of a relaxing day but in my case it is. My friend Jen recently introduced me to her church and I'm hooked. The music is glorius, the atmosphere is positive and members wear whatever appeals to them. If you're interested, it's the Unity Triangle Church onWhitaker Mill Road-(http://www.unitytriangle.org/index.html). This Sunday's service was bookended by the musical talents Crazies for Jesus. They didn't seem that crazy to me-but their music made me feel as though I were in New Orleans or the Carribean.

Step 3: All that meditation, power of positive prayer, and singing makes a girl hungry! So, I called home to see if there were lunch orders. (There were not-my lovely husband could really care less what he eats. Sigh.) So, I went where my obsession takes me. Currently, that is to a french bakery off of Cary Parkway called La Farm (http://www.lafarmbakery.com/). I picked up a mushroom/guyere stuffed baguette, some herbed garlic cheese spread, and a loaf of ciabatta for comfort.

Step 4: Reading material was running low so I swung by the Apex Library. I am still so amazed by the wake county libraries. At my old home, a trip to the library was a scavenger hunt through shelves of disorder. Let me give you an example. Let's say, you're looking for book by a popular author with the last name Perry. You would need to walk the entire aisle where the 'P' books are located. Look on both sides carefully. The Perry books would be interwoven with the Pearsons, Pattersons, and even Richards. You might assume that your book is just not in so you stroll over to the non-fiction aisles looking for a good cookbook. There, wedged between 'How to grill anything' and 'Eastern Birding Handbook' you would find your book by Perry. Now, i just walk right into Eva Perry's Library and pick up exactly what I intended and am out in 5 minutes.

Step 5: Go home to be greeted by your lovely family. Eat lunch together (see step 4). Open a bottle of wine and then put the monster masquerading as your son to bed for a siesta. Read and sip in the brief respite.

Step 6: After the nap monster has been placated, take the little cherub outside to play in the wading pool. He splashes and plays and cackles. For hours. While you sit in your adirondack chairs, sip wine, and wave to your neighbors.


Perfection.