The Dog Days of Connecticut - Hot-Doggin' it, day 2 (part 3)

(back to part 2)

July 29 2011, Day two of  "The Great 2011 CT Hot Dog Tour"  continued...

Harry's Place

It's about 11:45am,  nearly 30 hours since I  left the Ranch. and we have finally made it to our first hot dog stand of the trip.  We've arrived at Harry's Place in Colchester.

We wandered over to the menu board to initiate our attack. 

In discussing the plan previously, we had decided that we want to give each place it's fair shot at impressing us.  Pre-trip research has revealed that most of the dog stands have a specialty of the house, and that most of these specialties feature a dog that includes some kind of "meat sauce" on them.  I've never been that big of a fan of meat sauces, chilis etc on my hot dogs but maybe that's because I've never had a great one. 

My personal standard for the perfect hot dog goes something like this: natural skin dog (any length), cooked so the dog has a nice "snap".  This pretty much eliminates steamed and boiled dogs but leaves the field wide open for grilling, griddling, frying etc.  The dog should be presented in an appropriate-to-dog-sized New England-style bun (2 flat sides with a slit down the middle for the dog), that has been nicely toasted in a little butter.  Condiments of choice: spicy brown mustard, pickle relish, and sauerkraut.

I've decided that the only reasonable thing to do is to order two dogs at each place.  One "house special" , and one "David-style".

Looking at Harry's menu I find myself curiously uninspired.  It's been nearly 5 hours since that amazing breakfast at O'Rourke's but only about 20 minutes since we finished a generous tasting about 8 different cheeses at Cato Farm.  Nothing to do but "Man-Up" (a phrase that would come up repeatedly over the next 2 days), and order.

At the window we could see a platoon of hotdogs lined up for inspection on the grill inside, lookin' good, but not quite good enough to make me truly hungry yet.

 Fortunately for me, when asked what was the house special dog, the counterman said "Well, pretty much anything you like.  They're all good."  Off the hook on my first outing, I ordered just one David-style dog.

I picked up the dog at the next window when my order was announced, as did Cynthia and Jim who would be splitting a single plain dog (light-weights!), and we all proceeded over to one of conveniently-located picnic tables out front near the road.  There were also several  tables on the side of the building in a very pretty grassy area but we decided to stay and watch the action at the counter.

Well, it wasn't a NE-style bun and it wasn't toasted.  Too bad because the dog inside was pretty good.  Well-browned on the griddle, it had a nice moderate "snap" to the casing. Harry's also got some bonus points because they put on a brown mustard automatically, with out my having to asked specifically for it. Unfortunately that wasn't enough to counter the problem with the kraut.  While flavorful, it had not been drained sufficiently and by the time we'd gotten to our seats, the juice had already sogged it's way through the bun and was pooling in the paper tray.

A hot dog is supposed to be hand-held food but every attempt to pick this dog up was fruitless.  The kraut juice soaked bun wouldn't hold its shape, the dog slipped out onto the paper tray as the rest disintegrated into a less-than-appetizing pile with a resounding "plop" . This is one of the problems with typical steamed buns.  Sure, they're soft and fluffy, but they are so saturated with moisture coming out the that there isn't any absorbency left to them.

Cynthia and Jim faired better.  Without any added wetness, their minimalist dog was much easier to eat.

My score: 6 out of 10. Great ambiance (for a hot dog stand, of course), and a pretty good dog but regardless how good the underlying meat is, if it's impossible to eat the whole as intended, how can it possibly score well overall?

I'm sure I will be subjected to the wrath of Harry's fans for "dissing" their joint.  Hot dog fans are fiercely loyal and notoriously outspoken about their favorite stands. 

My druthers would be to go back to all of these places a couple more times to get a better feel for if the dogs I'm eating there are typical or aberrations of some sort. On the other hand, it's HOT DOGS, not rocket science and if they can't get it right each and every time then do they really deserve repeat business?  There are literally dozens of these stands just a short drive from every other one so, I guess, my answer would be "No", they don't.

Scotties

A short drive up the road from Harry's was our next stop: Scotties Frozen Custard, Colchester.

Made on-premise, Scotties offers three flavors of custard (Vanilla, Chocolate, and flavor of the day) and  an impressive list of Sundaes, Special Sundaes, and toppings as well as shakes malts and floats.

C&J went for a "small" vanilla cone and I had a chocolate.  Small was certainly relative in this case because the cones were huge.

After a few bites (we hadn't even left the porch yet), the owner ("Scottie", I assume) stuck his head out and asked Cynthia, "So, that's good, You like that? I just made it fresh this morning!"

It was good and so was my chocolate.  We wandered out back to he picnic tables where Cynthia got friendly with another Scottie.

My score: 9 out of 10.  I don't really have a solid reason to not to give it a 10.  There was not a single thing wrong with Scotties  but I figure while very good in all respects, a 10 deserves something more, something exceptional. Jim gave it a slightly lesser score. He had apparently had the gold standard of frozen custards many (MANY) years ago and has been trying to recapture that magic moment ever since.  Cynthia suggested that perhaps his memory was a bit idealized but he stuck to his guns, giving it an 8.

Top Dog

So, back on the road again (I feel a Willie Nelson song coming on).  Next stop: Top Dog in Portland.  Top Dog is one of those places that EVERYBODY says you HAVE to go to, but nobody says "because they have the best hot dogs".

This is Top Dog...

Yup, that's a custom-converted food trailer in the shape of big ol' wienie and bun, complete with cheese, mustard (yellow), relish and onions. It gets towed around by and old Checker cab that includes several sportily-clad mannequins waving out the windows. 

I have a "thing" for Checker cabs so this is quite cool to me.  My very first car, back in the 1970's was an old retired NYC Checker cab.  The thing had 80 gazillion miles on it and had even been th star of a kid's movie (Santiago's America, if you're interested), but it only cost $200 and was the perfect vehicle for a teenage boy with a brand new driver's licence. The thing was a tank and you could run into almost anything with out hurting it our yourself, and I did exactly that for about 4 years through high school and on into college until it finally gave up on me. I was heart broken.

Back to Top Dog.  I approached the window the lone woman who was squeezed into the small space with all the cooking equipment, food and piles of paper plates etc greeted me.  "What can I get you?"

"What's your best dog?"

"Hmmmm, depend on what you like".  I was not going to give up quite so easily this time.

"What's your personal favorite dog?"

"I like them all".  She was not going to make this easy on me, was she?.

"OK, If I were the food critic from the New York Times, what dog would you want me to eat"?

Realizing that I wasn't going to order without some kind of answer she said "The Cajun Dog, I guess.  That's what were best known for".  Finally.  Was that so hard?

"I'll take one of those and one kraut dog with mustard and relish".

"You want that Cajun Dog real spicy?"

"Absolutely!"

The Cajun dog was described as a hot dog, a slice of Pepper Jack cheese, some special Cajun sweet-hot relish, topped with a grind meat chili sauce. 

Within a couple of moments, my order was ready.

The dogs again sat in boring steamed standard (non New England-style) buns so, it was no big surprise when both dogs experienced catastrophic failure upon trying to be lifted from the paper tray on which they were served.

What was surprising was the dog itself.  I managed to get one end of the kraut dog sandwich to my mouth and even get a small get a bite before it totally collapsed.  That dog was GOOD!  It appeared to be steamed but, in addition to being plump and juicy, the skin was nice and taught with a surprising snap.  I might have to re-think my steamed dog prejudices.  The meat itself was well seasoned, standing up well to all the accoutrements pied on it.

Unfortunately, that was the only whole bite I got. The kraut had, again not been drained turning the rest of the bun into mush in a few seconds. The "Cajun dog" was even worse.  Not only did all the moisture from the meat sauce disintegrate the bun but it did something weird to the gluten in the bread, making it (for lack of a better descriptor) "snotty".  It was definitely not the cheese as it had never melted (see pic above) and I'd pulled it out of the dog pile by this point anyway. I could actually grab a piece of the bun and pull it out several inches. I've never seen anything quite like it.

Stranger yet was that the Cajun Dog, as a whole, was under seasoned.  Yes it had a little spice to it but it was lacking in... salt?!  I thought that maybe my taste buds had gone on strike at the sight of that bun muck so I asked both C & J to try it.  Both got puzzled looks on their faces and Cynthia said,  "You know there is something very wrong when a hotdog needs more salt".

One other note: the mustard was some tasteless yellow kind, no brown mustard offered.

My score: 4 out of 10.  Despite being completely disgusted by what was left on my plate when I was done, the wieners themselves were very good and the ambiance was excellent, saving Top Dog from being what would have otherwise been an even lower score.

(Continued Here)

The Dog Days of Connecticut - Hot-Doggin' it, day 2 (part 2)

(back to part 1)

July 29 2011, Day two of  "The Great 2011 CT Hot Dog Tour"  continued...


Following our superb breakfast at O'Rourke's Diner in Middletown CT we hurried off to Colchester for an appointment I had made to visit, and talk shop with fellow artisan cheese maker Mark Gilman, of Cato Corner Farms and to see his operation.

The farm was humming.  This is one of Mark's busiest weekends of the year.  They are coordinating the packaging and other preparations for two very large, once-a-year, special festival events, on top of getting ready for the numerous regional farmers' markets they attend and supply as well as servicing their regular weekly wholesale accounts.  


It was a logistical nightmare (at least it would have been for me) but Mark, while obviously keeping very busy, seemed to have a good handle on everything. He multi-tasked well, directing a small, swarming cadre of workers efficiently and effectively.  To their credit, they all seemed sharp, caring, motivated and well-versed at the wide variety of disparate jobs going on simultaneously.


That he had been willing to have us come here now, during our very limited time in the area, despite all these extra demands on his time give you a glimpse of what a gracious man he is.


Outfitting us in the requisite disposable over-booties, making sure we had appropriate hair restraints and slipping into his own clean-room boots he began the tour in what had once been his aging "cave".  Basically a walk-in cooler with humidity controls it was now use for storing ready-to sell stock.  Today it was packed floor-to-ceiling and front to back with dozens of large plastic RubberMaid containers, all neatly labeled with the name of the market or festival, or customer it had been packed for.  Amazing.


We moved through the sanitizing footbaths into the cheese making room.  A wall of warm, humid air hit us especially hard, coming from the cheese-holding cooler and my eye glasses fogged up immediately.  Here, Mark introduced us to two of his hard-working helpers.  They were cleaning up and scrubbing the room down having just fininshed their cheese-making activities for the morning.  At this point Mark got called away to sort out a order-filling question and we had the chance to chat for a while with the guys.  They were funny, knowledgeable, and really seemed to enjoy their cheese-making duties at the farm. Thanks guys.

Upon his return, Mark took us down to his current aging room - a true cellar.  Oh, if I could only bottle that aroma...!  In the dairy's large basement Mark has set up a near-ideal cheese aging environment.  Naturally temperature-buffered from being underground and having lots of therrmal mass in its masonry floors, walls and ceilings, the environment need only to be occasionally tweaked to adjust for seasonal swings .


In this long room, Mark has set up lots (and LOTS) of simple block-and-board shelves, with just enough room between to ensure good airflow in and around his cheeses and barely enough for he and his workers to get in and do the regular periodic turning and aging, brushing and washing (IE affinage) that the hundreds of cheese require.

We spent a lot of time in the cellar.  Mark seemed very comfortable here, away from the hustle and demands of the organized chaos going on above us and I finally got to ask him some in-depth questions about his operation.  In addition to being extremely knowledgeable about his cheeses and cheese-making in general, he was endearingly open, thoughtful and honest about the some of the difficulties the farm has and does face as a business.

We talked about regulators and competitors, the economy, bankers and insurance headaches, feed supply and overhead costs, "high maintenance customers", and market share.  Poor Cynthia and Jim must have been about bored to tears but I'm sure it was a bit cathartic for both Mark and me.


I really didn't want to leave the solace of the aging room but Mark said the one thing that could have motivated me best,  "Want to sample some of my cheeses?" OH YES, PLEASE!  So back up the slick wooden steps we trudged, back up into their wrapping/packing/sampling area.


This room too was jam-packed with in-progress preparations for the weekend.  Stacks of legal-for trade market scales  competed for space with piles of hotel pans, rolls of labels and more partially-filled bins of product, ready for distribution. A steady stream of busy-bee employees came through, each focused on their task at hand, non phased in the least by a request from Mark or another worker "Oh, and can could you also make sure that... gets done"?  "Sure, No problem" came the answers, and off they went.


Mark helped Patrick get a few more orders ready to go so that there was room on the table for our tasting, and asked another worker for a list of wheels form the cellar he wanted to cut into.  


Soon a section of space was open enough on which to work and Mark began.  He started, naturally, with his gentlest cheeses, talking about each - their provenance and development, giving us small pieces to try as he spoke.

He worked his way slowly through to some slightly stronger cheeses.  We got to try an exceptional and rare cheddar and then moved on to the blues and finally to his "stinky cheese".  At one point during the tasting he was interrupted for a few minutes when one of his retailers arrived for his weekly order.  It was interesting listening to their respectful and productive discourse where it was clear that they each understood how mutually beneficial their relationship was - so different than the typical, almost adversarial, relationship between many wholesalers and their retailer counterparts. 


We enjoyed all of Mark's cheeses and put together a large list of ones to buy that he and a helper quickly cut, wrapped, and bagged for us.  I was more than happy to pay full retail price to help support this incredible farm (not to mention help assuage my guilt for co-opting so much of his precious time this morning), but Mark still gave us a generous discount.


Not wanting to take any more of his time, but also wanting to at least see "the girls" We asked if we could just wander around a bit on our own.  "Of course", he said.

Mark, the proud (and deservingly so) cheese maker

So we mosied out past the milking barn to visit briefly the The Girls, a gorgeous herd of lovely brown Gurnseys, looking very at home on their lush, very green and beautiful rolling hills.  A few even came up to bid us good-bye to us.  If I'm ever reincarnated as a cow, can I live here...please?

to be continued...

The Dog Days of Connecticut - Hot-Doggin' it, day 2 (part 1)

The wake-up call came WAY too early, despite the clock saying it was 7am, exactly the correct time.  That might have something to do with the fact that I stayed up until almost 4am local time (just not sleepy, writing yesterday's blog entry) or, perhaps that my Arizona-tuned body still thought it was 3-hours earlier than the clocks here think it is.  Regardless, I groggily got up but was soon ready for Day Two of the "The Great 2011 CT Hot Dog Tour".


Before I get to that, a couple of words about our motel.  The Red Carpet Inn in Cheshire is a gem.

I mean look at their sign...

Look CLOSER...

Now that's not something you see everyday on a motel sign in Connecticut, or most other places in the USA either.  The owners of this crisp, clean and freshly-renovated motel are a couple from India.  We met the wife when we checked in late last night.  This morning I was hanging around outside waiting for Cynthia and Jim to emerge when a dark-skinned man came out from the office.  He, very politely (and with a lovely lilted eastern accent) asked if there was anything he could help me with.  


Despite his cordiality, I could tell he was a little suspicious of me.  He said that a guest had called him to report a man in the parking lot taking pictures (Huh?  Me? Ummm,  I'm a tourist - so sue me!).  I told him I was a guest and that I was just appreciating the Inn's beautiful landscaping (good GRIEF it's green here!).  I also commented on the unusual signage and asked about it.  He explained that it was their way of showing respect.  Respect to their neighbors, respect to their guests, respect to people just passing by. "In my country we say Namaste.", he said, putting his hands together just like on the sign, and bowing ever so slightly.


Namaste indeed, my friend.


C&J soon popped out of their room, looking ready to take on the day and we hit the road.  First stop today: O'Rourke's Diner in Middletown CT for breakfast.

Cynthia and Jim are kind of diner groupies and have been trying to get to O'Rourke's for about 100 years (or so it sounds listening to them).  It's a tale of woe.  A true saga.  An epic story of near misses, ships passing in the night, love lost, tragic circumstances and seemingly insurmountable challenges of Olympic proportion.  But today, the Gods were smiling.


We easily navigated to Middletown and quickly found a parking spot just a few feet from O'Rourke's front door.  O'Rourke's, according to Jim, was once a classic Mountain View Diner based on the 1920-30's art deco designs of actual railroad dining cars but it had suffered a tragic fire at some point and was no longer authentic. 


 I don't know.  To a completely untrained eye, it still looked pretty much like a diner to me (very cool stainless steel and aluminum everywhere, big sections of glass block, lots of tile and funky period lighting etc).  

Besides, WHO CARES when there are such great smells coming out the door.  Let's eat!


The inside of the small space was crowded and lively.  All of the counter stools and most of the other seating was occupied but we were immediately directed to a window booth where a sample plate of assorted Irish breads and three large menus instantly appeared.

 

I used the word "eclectic" to describe the menu at the Olympic Diner where we had dinner last night and it was tempting to repeat that description again here.  I mean the O'Rourke's menu features a huge selection of a wide range of types of foods spanning the three typical meals a day, plus plenty of entries and offerings not quite so easily pigeon-holed or categorized (and a bunch of borderline- avant garde off-menu specials too).  That's eclectic  right?  Well... Sort-of.


The thing about O'Rourke's is that there is a solid under-pinning knitting all these wildly diverse menu parts together and keeping them from being that jumbled, playfully dysfunctional disarray that the term "eclectic" implies.  At first I thought that the undercurrent was the Irish theme which certainly runs strongly throughout but while the theme is strong, it is not universal. The one thing that is universal at O'Rourke's is "The Brian Factor".


Brian O'Rourke is the chef at O'Rourke's.  "Chef" is not a term that I throw around carelessly or casually and I can say, for a fact, that I have never used it to describe another cook at a diner, irrespective of their training or talents.  Chef Brian is the heart of O'Rourke's and his presence  permeates every crack and crevice of the operation, like a real heart supplying oxygen to every cell in a body. He is also the soul of O'Rourke's, the canvass on which it is painted and the nurturing protective blanket that keeps it thriving even on the most wicked New England winter night.


That's enough about Brian,  for now.  


This is our waitress Tina.

Tina was in all ways pleasant, efficient, accurate and easygoing despite being obviously busy.  In short, she was a perfect server.  It is the bane of all restaurants that there is such a high turnover in the ranks of the service staff and even more acutely so at the diner/family restaurant level where seldom are the servers career professionals but usually college kids, wannbe actors etc, biding their time until something better comes along.  Whenever I get a great server like Tina I can't help but lament the fact that she will probably not be there for very long.


The good news for O'Rourke's (and especially for O'Rourke's customers) is that Tina is not "just" a server.  Later in the meal, after we'd chatted for a bit and I'd explained that I was taking all the pictures for my food blog, she gave me her business card.  Tina is also O'Rourke's "Marketing Coordinator" - and I bet she's great at that too!


After a few minutes with the menus, Tina stopped by to present the morning's specials.  I wish I could remember them all and do justice to their collective inspired creativity, but I think my brain cells were only half firing from near-starvation.  It had been almost 10 hours since I'd eaten!  I do recall her describing a number of fritata's, including one with duck and  and then what she called   a "Soft Shell Crab and poached egg" special.  Well, my mind latched onto that one and wouldn't let it go. The rest of her spiel was background noise as, fully on alert now, my head and my stomach discussed back-and-forth this unexpected breakfast pairing. 


Maybe it's because I'm an old New England boy too long in the desert but I have a very hard time passing up the prospect of good seafood, shellfish in particular, whenever it is offered to me.  I love soft shelled crabs and felt incredibly lucky to be near water again during it's short season.  I've had, and enjoyed, soft shelled crab Benedict, to which this sounded similar. It should have been a no-brainer to order this special but something was holding me back.  I was hesitant.  In  thinking back about it I'm pretty sure my head was asking my stomach "Are you seriously thinking about ordering soft shelled crab, at a DINER"?


Stomach won out and the whole of me, in unison, took a leap of faith and ordered it. Cynthia ordered Irish Soda bread and bangers with home fries, Jim ordered a single buckwheat pancake and we got an order of lamb sausage for the table.


C and I worked on our pot of coffee and Jim on his hot tea as we discussed our rather ambitious plan for the day and waited for our food, but the chat soon dissolved into silence as we began to more fully appreciate what a great people-watching opportunity O'Rourke's presented.  Lots of colorful characters from all walks of life, elbow-to-elbow.  Overlapping snippets of conversation on every possible subject competed with the hum of big fans and the chatter of plates, glasses and silverware.  The amazing thing was that, despite its immediacy and disparity, the noise level wasn't really very high overall.


My breakfast was the first to arrive, followed quickly by the rest of the food.  Calling it "Soft Shell Crab with Poached Egg" was like calling Julia Child's Boeuf Bourguignonne "beef stew" or saying that traditional Pollo Mole Poblano is "Mexican Chicken Sauce".  Masters of the understatement, the crew at O'Rourke's had caught me completely off guard.  My plate consisted of... a large soft shelled crab that had been pan fried in a coarse breading until crisp and perfect.  Distributed around three side of the crab were a set of five or six small fritters or croquettes. Towering above the crab, in a margarita-style footed glass, 2 poached eggs, and a little Hollandaise sauce rested on top of another croquet or  fish-cake . Sprinkled and arranged elsewhere on the plated was a baby beet, a baby carrot, a couple of green beans, and a confetti of other vegetables and a couple of kiwi fruit slices..

Holy smokes!  What a fabulous treat!  For my initial taste I went right for the soft-shell crab and it was sublime.  Within a few moments of my first bite a big man in a black chef's toque approached the table.  This was Brian. Hovering just a bit, and working to subdue a bit of well-deserved pride, he asked what I thought of my breakfast."That's a crab cake there under those eggs, you know", he said, "and those are scallop fritters".

Chef Brian describes the food

At this point I made a grievous tactical error.  Being severely allergic to many white fishes and having had more then my share of close calls with things like crab cakes made or extended with "surimi" (fake crab meat), I asked him, "Is there any fish or fake crab in these"?


After a brief pause he replied "Is there what?".  I repeated the question.  Brian, bending down now: "Is-there-what??" So I, being somewhat extra-dense at this hour of the day, repeated it one more time.  Brian (this time leaning very close to my face, and raising his voice a bit more): "Is there WHAT????" At which point I finalized realized that he was not hard of hearing , but toying with me, insulted that I might think he would have used such a lame culinary short-cut in such a beautiful dish.


I apologized quickly and briefly explained my allergy.  This seemed to mollify his concerns and he relaxed a bit quipping, as he rushed of to his next task, "Well I may have an epi-pen somewhere in the back, and it's better if you don't die in my dining room".  And he was gone.


At  last alone again with my meal I was able to further explore it's intricacies and play in the playground of its many flavors.  The crab cake initially seemed a little dense but deliciously "crabby" util I broke the poached egg onto it at which point it melted together into a perfect new taste and ideal consistency.  The little scallop fritters were amazing.  Popping on into my mouth produced a mini explosion of sweet scallop flavor. Everything worked together perfectly but was also excellent as stand-alone items.  I grudgingly shared small amounts with Cynthia and Jim, but I'm afraid I was not as generous as politeness might have dictated.  Tough luck!


Both Cynthia's and Jim's meals were also quite good but how much can one write about a buckwheat pancake?

"Lamb Sausage"

Cynthia's breakfast at O'Rourke's

After a leisurely finish to our meal, we purchased an O'Rourke's coffee mug souvenir and headed off to our next destination.


Rating: 10 out of 10 points.  The few minor disappointments (the lamb "sausage" patty, for example, was way under-seasoned to our palates and tasted like plain ground lamb) and little foibles during the meal were so over-shadowed by excellent service, overall creativity of the menu and superb execution by the kitchen that I was temped to give it 11 out of 10 possible points  Great work guys!.


(Continued Here)

Hot-Doggin' It in Connecticut

Today I am winging off the to the other side of the country to begin a short east coast tour of artisan cheese dairies to do extensive local cheese tastings, and meet and discuss farmstead cheese making with other like-minded dairy professionals.  


IRS representatives , please stop reading here.


Between these 100% business-related dairy stops, [ahem, cough] this trip, more commonly (and perhaps more accurately) referred to as "The Great 2011 CT Hot Dog Tour"  by my sister, will be a food-centric journey across the state aimed at visiting as many of the highly regarded wiener joints of CT as possible  with an additional healthy (??) smattering  of clam shacks, ice cream parlors and diners thrown in for "balance".

It all started when I sent my sister Cynthia and Jim the DVD "A Connecticut Hot Dog Tour"

They liked the video so much that they bought and sent ME a copy to watch.  C and I grew up in CT but never really knew what a mecca it was for weiner afficianados.  Anyway, what started out as a "We should really get together sometime and see how many of these places we can hit in a weekend" quip evolved into a pipe dream, then into an authentic idea and eventually, into a plan.  We were really going to do this someday... and today is the day!

My day started at 4:30am with hitching a ride with a friend to our regional airport for a puddle-jummper flight down to Phoenix, connecting (after eating part of a really bad Einstein bagel at one of the terminals) to a SW Air flight to Hartford CT via Baltimore.

The honey peanuts and the (new to me and very strange) "Golden Oreo" cookies on the first leg of the flight were not quite enough to keep me going but fortunately I had about an hour between flights so could grab a bite at Baltimore-Washington International.

Not expecting anything better than a bad sandwich I was stunned upon seeing a sign at BWI that they were home to Obrycki's, one of the Frommer's-rated 10 best airport restaurants in the country!  Not only that, but it was located just 2 gates down from the one where I had arrived, and from which I would subsequently depart. The stars were aligned!

 Obrycki's not only had regional Maryland specialties on their menu but also a couple of house beers on tap.  Just what the doctor ordered.

I ordered their "famous since 1944" crab cakes and an Obrycki pale ale. The service was efficient, almost brisk  (as is to be expected and appreciated in an airport setting) and pleasant.

The crab cake was one of the best I've had.  Chock-full of lump crab, no fillers or fake stuff.  It was barely held together by a light binder, lightly breaded and pan-fried.  I suspect that they must make these up a few ahead of time, before needed, as mine was out so fast and was not quite as hot or crisp as I might would expect for hot-off-the pan, but it was still very excellent.  It was served with a nicely fiesty cocktail sauce having just the right zip of horseradish and lemon juice and accompanied by some pretty decent french fries and coleslaw. The beer was also very good.


Rating: 9 out of 10.  I wish the crab cake had been just-made, it would have been perfect.  I understand and appreciate the thinking behind not doing it, but I gotta dock the point anyway.

The next leg of the flight took just 50 minutes in the air (with more peanuts, thank-you-very-much!), and landed at Hartford's Bradley International at just about 6pm local time.  C&J's train from Philly had been delayed but they showed up about 30 minutes after I did and we met up easily and as planned.

Our timing was perfect, wallking out the arrivals door just in time to see the big yellow Hertz car rental shuttle van pulling up.  In seconds we were on our way to the rental center.  Unfortunately that's where our luck ran out.  Short-staffed, inefficient and often down-right rude, the car rental process was interminable (despite Jim having pre-booked the car well in advance).  It took us longer to rent the car than my whole flight from Baltimore to Hartford took. We eventually got through, got the car (Toyota Rav4) and were off on our adventure.

First stop? Dinner at a diner.  We chose the Olympia diner in Newington.  A classic O'Mahoney diner resplendent with plenty of roomy booths, lots of neon and polished stainless steel, table-top juke boxes and other deco touches.

The menu was extensive and eclectic.  Breakfast "served all day", a seafood section, an Italian section, a Greek section, lots of sandwiches including a whole column of "grinders" (CT's version of the sub/hoagie/hero etc), a list of "from the grill", and many diner staples like Liver and Onions, Meatloaf, breaded pork chops etc.

C ordered a tuna melt, fries and a vanilla shake.  Jim had 2 eggs scrambled, sausage, homefries and toast, I had a Genoa Salami Grinder and a side of onion rings.

The food was, almost without exception, very good - with a few stand-outs.  To the plus side,Cynthia pronounced the Vanilla Milkshake as "exceptional" and we all thought that the breakfast sausage that Jim got was some of the best we'd ever had.  On the downside, the battered onion rings, while obviously freshly hand made in the kitchen, were quite hard as opposed to being crisp, as expected.


The waitress told us that they made all their own desserts on-site so how could I refuse?  "Hot Apple Pie, a la mode with vanilla ice cream, please.  And could I have another side of those delicious sausage??"  Not as strange a combination as it might seem at first (doesn't everybody like the pairing of pork and apples?), but unfortunately the pie was just another Mrs Smith's (or comparable) frozen pie that had been baked in the back.  Somebody really needs to tell the wait staff (everywhere, not just here at the Olympia)  that that honestly doesn't count as "made on-premise".  The ice cream was nothing special but, again, the sausages were perfect.


The service was friendly and quite perky, if a bit sloppy (finished  plates remained stacked on the table for far too long, a couple of items ordered were out of sinc with the rest of the meal etc), and the place, on-whole, was brightly lit, well-kept, and fairly clean  (the floor was a bit sticky).  Minor peeve: the table-top jukebox gleefully sucked $1 of our money and played our 7 songs but at such a low volume that we had to strain to tell if it was even working.  I understand them being set as not to disturb other diners but, even in the nearly empty room in which we ate, it was way too low.  I can't imagine hearing it at all with a few more tables filled, let alone during a rush.


Overall rating: 7.5 out of 10.  A few dazzling bright spots amid general mediocrity, but we could have done much, much worse for our first outing.


Pretty much knackered from a long and eventful day for all, we headed to our motel (Red Carpet Inn, Cheshire CT) and crashed for the night after leaving a 7am wake-up calls.  Big day with much to do tomorrow!

Chicken Cordon Bleu

It was Kathryn and my wedding anniversary yesterday (29 years!) and, like any good husband, I'd asked her where she wanted to go for a nice dinner.  Like any cook's wife, she responded "The place I like to eat best is home, with your cooking". (ain't that sweet?)

So, of course the next question was "So, what would you like me to make?".  Without a moment's hesitation she said "Chicken Cordon Bleu".

I can almost hear your incredulous grunts and see your eyes roll.  "What?  That hackneyed old diner stand-by?"  Well, yes AND no.

Chicken Cordon Bleu, while French-sounding by design("cordon bleu" means "blue ribbon" in French), is a dish of breaded chicken breasts with ham and cheese that originated in the1960s in the United States.  It was quite popular on restaurant menus through the end of the 20th century and the basic flavor combination retains a following as is evidenced by the Chicken Cordon Bleu sandwiches etc that still pop up on fast food restaurant menus from time to time.  The U.S. even "celebrates" a National Chicken Cordon Bleu Day (it was on April 4th this year and now MY eyes are rolling).

The Chicken Cordon Bleu that Kathryn was requesting was one I'd made for her in the past and while classic in style and presentation, it is made exceptional by being able to use all ranch made and grown ingredients in its preparation. 

Another of what we like to call our "meals that are years in the making" I made this one with chicken breasts from birds we'd raised and butchered ourselves.  The ham isn't wasn't just "ham" but Capocola, a rich and spicy ham we cure and smoke right here from hogs that we've grown-out primarily on cheese whey and butchered here on property. I'd made the Swiss cheese for the dish  last winter from our own goat's milk. The veloutè sauce was made from the chicken stock I'd made and frozen when we butchered and processed the meat chickens last fall, I'd baked the bread I processed into bread crumbs for the coating, and even churned the goat's milk butter that the Cordon Bleu's were sautéed in.  It just doesn't get any more "home-made" than that!

Here's my process for making Chicken Cordon Bleu...

Sandwich each chicken breast between sheets of plastic wrap.
Gently flatten each chicken breast to 1/4" thick, or a little thinner

Like this

Remove the top piece of plastic wrap.
Lay pieces of thinly-sliced ham on the breast.
I used about 3 oz per breast

Make a cylinder out of 2-3 oz of grated Swiss cheese.

Fold about a third of the breast over the fillings.
Use the bottom plastic wrap to help you work.

Fold the ends up.

Continue rolling until the breast meat completely encases the fillings.
Repeat with remaining breasts

Wrap individually in plastic wrap and refrigerate to firm up

Basic Breading Procedure
Dredge each Cordon Bleu in well seasoned flour, then...

Thoroughly coat each Cordon Bleu in beaten eggs, then...

Coat each Cordon Bleu well with fresh bread crumbs.

Chill thoroughly.

Saute each Cordon Bleu in butter over medium heat to set the crust
and brown nicely on all sides.
Do not overcrowd the pan.

The Cordon Bleus will still be quite under-cooked at this point.
Refrigerate until about 40 minutes before serving or move directly to the next step.

Bake in a pre-heated 375 degree oven (350 degree convection oven)
until properly cooked all the way through and the cheese is melted
(about 165F chicken temp, 120F cheese center temp)
This took about 30 minutes in my oven.
Let sit at room temperature for a couple of minutes before plating.

Slice the Cordon Bleus into about 1/2" sections and arrange on plates
with accompaniments (in this case Saffron Rice and Zucchini Provencale)
Nape with a little chicken veloute sauce
(lightly thickened blond chicken stock)