Ah, I usually put a little brown sugar in there as well, so the honey makes sense. I sometimes use honey in my Buffalo wings to cut the acidity a little bit, too. (A Buffalonuan taught me that trick. I also like a little yellow mustard in my wing sauce.)
I’m trying to think of foods I might miss if I moved away from California, and I’m not coming up with anything. The big thing around here that is somewhat regional is abalone, and it’s OK, but i never crave it. Artichokes are OK, but you can get them anywhere, and I always thought it was a lot of work to scrape off some stuff from the bottom of the leaves. Sourdough bread, maybe.
What I’d probably miss the most is the many really good wineries we have and visiting tasting rooms from time to time.
Vernors? strong? if it used to be that way, it’s been “watered down” a ton. now it’s just vaguely ginger ale-flavored pop.
Hmm, I seem to recall some toxic waste mutated creatures in that body of water that resembled shrimp. :eek:
…No, silly, I’m talking about shrimping the St. Johns River. I’ve lived in Florida for the past 30+ years.
Well, EVERYTHING today is shittier than it was 40 years ago.
I’m especially sorry to hear that Cleveland’s Corky and Lenny’s has fallen off in quality. It’s where this goyischer kid first tasted Jewish delicatessen back in the ‘60s. The soups were terrific: matzoh ball, kreplach, mushroom barley, even the plain vegetable soup was amazing. And the corned beef and brisket sandwiches, of course. My parents were afraid of pastrami for some reason, so I never tasted it until I moved to the east coast for college in 1978. Now it’s like, “Why order corned beef when you can have PASTRAMI?”
I hate to argue with Nashville chicken men, but wouldn’t it be more effective to put more cayenne in the seasoned flour you roll the chicken in before you panfry? And maybe add cayenne to the cooking fat?
I’m proud of my non-greasy fried chicken, and the idea of slathering it in hot pepper dripping after it comes out of the pan seems…wrong.
Not really. The spices really bloom in that oil and the resulting concoction is like spicy napalm. Wouldn’t be anywhere near the same effect. You’re just making normal spicy fried chicken the way you’re suggesting, not Nashville hot chicken, and you’re not going to get anywhere near the concentration of heat. There’s nothing wrong with slathering your fried chicken in fat after the fact. Heck, Buffalo sauce is half butter or margarine.
Good point, re: Buffalo wings. Still, maybe normal spicy fried chicken is as close as I want to get.
Good god, why aren’t you poleaxed by the tryptophan yet? I can’t believe you’re making lucid posts at 9PM CST. I can barely move, myself. Perhaps another chilled gin.
because that’s a myth.
Well, we got a 3 1/2 and 1 3/4 year old, so we have to stay lucid for a bit. But the kids are finally in bed. I was slouched for a couple hours on the sofa watching football, though, drinking Unicum (a Hungarian bitter herbal liqueur) as a digestif to help move things along. Made White Castle stuffing for the first time today and, actually, it was quite good (although it’s having the White Castle effect now a few hours later. You really don’t want to be near me for awhile.)
cayenne added to the cooking fat would burn in short order and taste pretty nasty.
There are times when I hate living in the northwest (not the pacific northwest mind you, thank god, just the northwest)
Fancy Farm is the name of a town, and it’s a church picnic at St. Jeromes Catholic Church. One of those throw-back political speakings. With good food.
I recall visiting my best friend when he was a student at John’s Hopkins many years ago. He took me to a Baltimore seafood dive that specialized in blue claw crab cake patties served between two saltine-type crackers. Apparently, that was a Baltimore thing back then; maybe it still is, I don’t know. One of the best hole-in-the wall meals I ever ate. I love crab.
Pittsburgh born and bred, but oh do I love me some biscuits and gravy.
Mangosteens. I’m really afraid to try to get them anywhere Stateside, so haven’t tried yet. Really couldn’t get enough of them in Bali.
West coast razor clams, pounded flat into big steaks, breaded and fried, the way I had them at some little place on the Oregon coast. Heavenly.
Dungeness crab as you get in Washington State.
Cornell recipe barbecue chicken, only available in the Finger Lakes area of Upstate New York.
My cravings come from all over the world.
From my place of birth, crab cakes. REAL crab cakes, no fillers, just meat and Old Bay. For some reason every frozen one I’ve had (except for Phillip’s) used bell pepper as the main spice. Blech.
From my once and future home of Northern Indiana, pork tenderloin sandwiches with pickles and mustard, and rhubarb pie.
From other stopping points in my life (some already mentioned, and others that can’t be bought):
Scrapple. I still haven’t had the guts to buy some online.
Navajo Tacos, and a variation invented at the Gallup Celtic Festival called Celtic Tacos: frybread instead of tortillas, corned beef instead of taco meat, cabbage instead of lettuce, sour cream instead of salsa. Only the cheese stays the same.
Soup served in a bread bowl. Perkin’s, I think?
Saipan red rice
real bratwurst served on a hard kaiser roll with German mustard
currywurst
koko (pickled unripe mango)
Now I’m hungry. I need to go stare at the fridge for a while.
Oooooh, concord grape pie. When I lived in the Midwest there was a vacant lot inn the neighborhood that belonged to the neighborhood church. Many years previously when there had been a house on the lot, the residents had planted grapevines, which had gone wild and were still producing copiously. After watching the grapes ripen and fall unused to the ground, I stopped by the church and d made a deal. If I could harvest those grapes each fall, I would bring them one of the pies. For fifteen years we had these marvelous pies. I have tried to replicate the pie with store bought grapes but it just usn’t the same.
Also, my hubs’foster mother’s genuine southern grits. I don’t know what she did with them that wasn’t in the recipe, but they were so wonderful.
From my Chicago area childhood, I miss real deep dish pizza. They have a version of deep dish pizza here in Denver, but they just aren’t the same. They are really are at pale shadow of the original. Also, Jay’s potato chips.
I had many enjoyable road trips up to Ithaca during my college years, but this is the first I’ve heard of Cornell BBQ chicken. I gotta try this!