stacks

Hayes Valley is one of our favorite neighborhoods to explore; some of our most loved eateries are here... Absinthe, Suppenkuche, Stacks, and Christopher Elbow for chocolates and hot cocoa so thick and creamy (it is pretty much liquefied chocolate).

I love a good, hearty brunch, the kind where mimosas and bloody Mary's flow freely, and eggs are always fluffy and smothered with cheese. Is there any other kind? Stacks is one such hotspot serving up hefty portions of fresh, traditional brunch dishes, famous for their, what else... pancakes.


One of my brunch go-to's is huevos rancheros, and Stack's version does not disappoint. I think the thick layer of melted cheese really helps.... and I'm a big sucker for canned black olives... mmmm.


Mr. S had a short stack (2) of the pancakes with wheat germ. There's even a version with banana macadamia nut and coconut! Just to show how generous the size was, I had him put his hand next to them to compare.... They were good, light and fluffy, with specks of wheat germ for a nice texture.


Our friends had another order of the huevos and the crab crepe, with melted Jack, avocado and hollandaise. All that food, and a whole bagel, plus hash!

No pictures of this, but Mr.S also had a fresh fruit smoothie: the Jitter Bug, made super thick with espresso, vanilla yogurt, bananas, cream, and hazelnut syrup.

The prices are appropriate here, and the portions are more than overwhelming. Stacks is the real deal. No messing around here.

jian bing: beijing street food

Ever since I was little, my parents treated street food in Beijing like the bad boy in high school; they barred me from even getting within a 10 feet range, they covered my eyes, telling me how it was dirty, cheap, and would give me unwanted health problems. Like the ever-obedient child that I was, I listened, though a longing built up in my gut everytime I walked down a small sidestreet and spied one of those pushcarts. Sure, at one point, these mobile vendors would have been a health inspector's worst nightmare (or dream) with the number of health codes they were violating. But nowadays, the situation is much better, as more sanitation laws and requirements have been put in place.

My first tryst with the popular Beijing street food known as jiān bǐng happened one hot summer morning when I was deemed by my family just old enough to start going out on my own. The cart that I remembered from summers past had upgraded to a small dimly-lit store front window, where customers lined up, shouted out their orders, paid and watched the young boy in the window as he whipped up a steaming hot crêpe in under one minute. As the morning rush of nannies, housewives, bicyclists going to work pushed past me to pick up a quick breakfast, I inserted myself at the back of the quickly moving line. Nervous and wide-eyed, I wasn't sure how to order. There wasn't a menu posted overhead, no pictures, nothing. This was Beijing street food at its best- for everyday people, not hyped up for tourists. Mustering up my confidence, I pointed to the dark crêpe batter, raised my finger to indicate one, and said "I'll have everything." I handed over my ¥2 (about $0.25 at the time) and excitedly watched through the fogged-up glass as my jiān bǐng was expertly made.

He wiped off the circular griddle with a towel, and ladled out some of the dark batter, spreading it out with a wooden tool. Paper thin at the edges, the crêpe instantly cooked up as it hit the smoking hot griddle. With a flick of the wrist, he cracked open an egg right on top of the crêpe, breaking up the yolk with the same tool, and sprinkling on a mixture of scallion and cilantro. With the egg still somewhat runny, he flipped the crêpe in one fell swoop, and brushed on two sauces on the other side, one hoisin, the other a spicy chili paste. The final element in this process is what jian bing is best known for- the crispy-fried rectangular cruller that gets placed inside. The edges of the crêpe are then folded in to form a steamy package of egginess, slid into a filmy plastic bag, and was handed over to me. All this in less than a minute. As I stepped away, the boy was moving onto making another crêpe, one of the many hundreds more he'd made that morning.

With that first bite with my nose and face buried into that warm baggie, I was hooked. The crêpe part was nutty, which I later discovered I'd ordered the buckwheat batter. The egg was wonderfully hashed in with the crêpe, spicy and sweet from the mixture of sauces. The addition of the scallion and cilantro gave it a cooling and fragrant freshness, with an added bit of crunch. I particularly enjoyed the thin fried dough hiding inside, which had wilted down from the heat, but gave the jian bing a degree of richness. (This is the same dough as used in Chinese fried crullers.) It was chewy and warmly satisfying, proof that a well rounded breakfast doesn't have to be eaten sitting down. Little did I know it, this was the beginning of an addiction, but at least an affordable one.

In subsequent years, everytime I visited Beijing, my internal jiān bǐng clock would rouse me at sunrise, driving me downstairs to the stand I knew and loved so well. The owners must have been doing well, since they expanded their morning selections to all sorts of savory and sweet pastries, steamed and stuffed buns, and warm soymilk and silken tofu (dou fu nao), another one of my morning favorites. In later years, they raised their prices to a shocking ¥2.5 ($0.35), which is actually a big increase for locals, who remember the days of ¥1 ($0.15) crepes.

I've never tried to make these in my own kitchen; I know it could never be the same. Not just in terms of the ingredients and equipment, but I'd be missing so much than that- my expectant grandparents upstairs nervously awaiting my return, the buzz of the morning working class, hungry and slightly edgy, the excitement of biting into a once-forbidden food, and the experience of eating from a plastic bag, while walking down a Beijing alley that was just coming alive with the day's first light.

There are hundreds of jian bing operators and vendors scattered all throughout Beijing, but you must hit the streets early, as it is a breakfast item. (Though now, you can probably find them sold to tourists at larger night markets.) There are the usual batters- white, mung bean, and buckwheat, and the toppings are the same from vendor to vendor. Prices will range from ¥2 to ¥3.

Illustration from Luxuryeats.com

monkey-ing around

My mom used to make a version of monkey bread for me when I was little in her trusty bundt pan that we bought together at a yard sale. We didn't even bother removing the bread from the pan after it was done; we'd pick away at it while it was still piping hot. What'd normally ensue was a sticky, messy situation involving stacks of napkins and usually a run to the washing machine afterward.

I'm perplexed as to why it's called "monkey" bread. My most astute guess is that monkeys eat by picking at their food, which is how a monkey bread is usually eaten, by being pulled apart. Oh, of course, opposable thumbs! Surely, this bread would make a monkey's mouth water, all that doughyness, each surrounded by a crunchy cinnamon-sugar crust. I suppose the addition of mashed ripe bananas to the dough makes this even more appealing to our primate friend, and to us! It makes the bread moist, and doesn't interfere with the rise at all.

This time when I made the bread, I used the same pan that my mom had used years ago. It turned out beautifully, without a hitch. And once again, I found myself barefoot in the kitchen, caught red-handed with sticky fingers.


Monkey Bread
adapted from Better Homes and Gardens, February 1999

3 1/4 to 3 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 pkg active dry yeast
1/4 cup milk
1/4 cup butter
2 Tbsp sugar
2 Tbsp light corn syrup
1/2 tsp salt
2 ripe mashed bananas (3/4 cup)
1 egg
2/3 cup chopped pecans
1 cup sugar
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 cup butter, melted
1/2 cup caramel ice-cream topping
2 Tbsp maple syrup

1. In a large bowl, stir together 1 cup of the flour and yeast. In a saucepan, heat and stir milk, 1/4 cup butter, 2 Tbsp sugar, corn syrup and salt until just warm (120F). Add this to the dry mixture. Stir in banana and egg. Beat the batter for about 3 minutes on high. With a wooden spoon, stir in the remaining flour, working into a lump. Turn out onto a lightly floured surface and knead 6-8 minutes into an elastic dough. Place in a greased bowl, cover, and let rise until doubled (1 1/2 hours).


2. Grease a 10" bundt (tube) pan with butter. Sprinkle half the pecans on the bottom. Stir together the 1 cup sugar and 1 tsp cinnamon, set aside.

3. Preheat oven to 350F. Punch dough down. Turn dough out onto your work surface and roll out into a large flat rectangle. Cut dough into 1-inch pieces. You will end up with about 40-50 small lumps. Gently knead each piece into a ball, tucking edges beneath. Roll each ball in the melted butter, then roll in the cinnamon sugar, and place in the prepared pan. Repeat this with the rest of the dough, gently stacking the balls up in the pan. Cover, and let rise until nearly double, about 45 minutes.


4. Sprinkle remaining pecans on top. Stir together caramel topping and maple syrup; drizzle on top. Bake for 35-38 minutes until the bread is golden brown on top. Let stand for 5-10 minutes, and invert onto a serving dish. Spoon any remaining topping or nuts over the bread. Serve warm.

yóu tiáo

I've talked about yóu tiáo before. These Chinese style crullers are solely responsible for making my childhood deliciously greasy and thus memorable. I would gladly get out of a warm bed at 6 in the morning to pick up a bag of these from a street vendor. Sadly, this doesn't exist in the U.S. At least, not freshly-fried ones, and no street food hawkers that early in the morning. In the meantime, I'll settle for some donuts.


I like mine dipped in hot, sweet soymilk. Others in my family like plain soymilk and congee. The one thing we can all agree on is that the yóu tiáo must be crispy, fluffy in the center, and hot hot hot. A breakfast of yóu tiáo and spicy pickled cold dishes is a must every time I visit my grandparents. Families very rarely make these at home anymore; the process is simply too time-consuming and all around greasy for the home kitchen. Besides, freshly-fried, made to order ones can be found in small diners and with street vendors every morning for about 5 cents apiece.

You can find packaged frozen you tiao in most Asian grocery stores, but their taste and texture leave much to be desired. Nothing beats a freshly-fried cruller, to be consumed on the spot. No room for leftovers here!



Chinese Crullers - You Tiao
from Chinese Snacks

3 cups bread flour
1 cup water
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
oil for frying

1. Stir together baking powder, soda and salt with the water. Add flour and mix well. Let stand for 15-20 minutes. Knead the dough until it comes together and becomes smooth and elastic. Turn the dough over and lightly coat the surface with oil. Let stand for 1 hour.

2. Turn the dough out onto a sheet of plastic wrap and form into a rectangular shape. Cut the dough into 1 1/2 lb. rectangular pieces and wrap each in plastic. Let stand for 4 hours.

3. Roll the dough out into a long rectangle, 3" wide and 1/16" thick. Cut crosswise into strips of 1/3" wide. Put two strips on top of each other, and with the back of a knife, gently press down lengthwise in the middle of the strip to attach them together. Do the same for the remaining strips.

4. Heat the oil for deep frying. Holding onto the ends of each strip, gently stretch out the dough into a long strip, a little over a foot in length. Repeat this process for the other strips. Drop into the hot oil. Turn the dough with chopsticks continuously until the cruller expands and turns golden brown. Remove and cool on paper towels. Serve immediately.

savory cheese scones

The lovely hostesses Julie of Kitchenography and Meg of Pigtown Pigout held a brunch last weekend for some local bloggers, many of whom are designers and foodies. In my opinion, the two groups of peoples with the best taste. It was potluck style, and we cozied up in Julie's amazing kitchen, gathered around the large island, laid out with food. I have to admit, I did not want to leave that breathtaking open kitchen, with the antique stove and fireplace, and farmhouse dining table. Mr.S diagnosed me with a serious case of kitchen envy.


Julie put together an endive salad, but alas, the yolk-based dressing broke. She also had delious little pots of red pepper pesto. Meg made two versions of a breakfast strata, one with sausage, the other vegetarian, and a buttery fresh cranberry bread.

John of The Baltimore Snacker brought a creamy, sweet lemon buttermilk pie.

Jamaila of Ancestral Pile whipped together a fruit salad, beautifully flavored with mint, lime, and honey.

Ann, aka Prêt à Voyager, who also writes for Design Sponge, was in attendance, but for the life of me, I can't remember which dish she brought!

Janet, of ~JCB~, who is a curator at the National Gallery, was also there, with champagne.

Rachel, a colourist, writes Hue Consulting, made a vegetarian quiche of spinach, pinenuts, and potato from the Whole Foods Cookbook.

Xani and Erin, of Black Coffee and a Donut, brought some Mediterranean treats: pita chips and hummus, and tabbouleh salad.

And me, a lover of scones, baked up a batch of mini ones that morning, flavored with Gruyère, crispy lardons, rosemary and black pepper. This is a very versatile savory scone base, so many and any addition can be mixed in, just use your imagination. Any sort of grated or crumbled cheese, fresh chopped herbs, toasted nuts, and spices would be lovely. My next batch will feature aged cheddar cheese and diced apples, sprinkled with fleur de sel.


Savory Cheese Scones
yields 32-36 mini scones

3 cups all purpose flour
2 Tbsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
2 tsp sugar
1 tsp salt
8 Tbsp unsalted butter, chilled
1 cup grated cheese
1 1/4 cups cold buttermilk
mix-ins of your choice (diced bacon, herbs, spices)
whole milk, for brushing

1. Sift together flour, baking powder, baking soda, sugar and salt. Cut in the butter piece by piece and toss in the grated cheese. With a pastry cutter, work everything together, until the butter becomes the size of small peas, and is well incorporated. Refrigerate for 20-30 minutes.

2. Preheat oven to 400F. Line 2-3 baking sheets with parchment paper. Remove the flour mixture and gently mix in the buttermilk, making sure to not overmix. You will have a sticky dough. You can turn the dough out onto a work surface and shape the scones into circles or triangles. Alternately, I am lazy, so I work straight from the mixing bowl. I use a medium ice cream scoop to make "drop" scones onto my prepared pans.

3. Brush the tops of the scones with milk. You may sprinkle with extra cheese, if you'd like. Bake for 15-18 minutes or until the tops turn golden. Remove and cool on the pan or on a rack. Serve immediately.

millet oatmeal with golden raisins

a big bowl of morning comfort

millet - golden grains of nuttiness

I grew up eating congee everyday for breakfast, and on some days for lunch and dinner too. Congee is Chinese rice porridge, usually made with short grain white rice, but can vary from black rice to mung beans. On special occasions, my grandfather would mix in a handful of millet into the steamed rice or congee. (Since it's not as prevalent as rice, it is slightly more expensive.) It added a nuttiness to the sweetness of the rice.

Millet is high in lysine, vitamin B, and iron. It's also a gluten-free whole grain. Which makes it perfect food to jump start the day. For the current Weekend Breakfast Blogging challenge,
I made a warm bowl of millet oatmeal, drizzled with honey and topped with toasted pecans. It's a twist on your average bowl of instant oatmeal, with another layer of flavor and texture.



Millet Oatmeal with Golden Raisins
serves 2

1/3 cup millet
1/3 cup steel-cut oats
3 cups water
1/2 cup golden raisins
1/2 cup milk
pinch salt
honey and toasted pecans, for topping

1. The night before, bring water to a boil in a heavy saucepan. Turn the heat off, and stir in the millet and oats. Cover and let sit overnight.

2. The next morning, add the salt and bring to a boil. Turn the heat down to low to simmer for about 15 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the grains are tender.

3. Stir in the raisins and milk and cook for another 3-5 minutes. You can add more water or milk at this point, if you prefer a thinner consistency. Spoon into bowls, drizzle with honey, and sprinkle with pecans.

yeasted buckwheat waffles

Breakfast for me is usually pretty simple, a bowl of cereal, sometimes a hard boiled egg with a piece of toast. Very rarely do I plan out the meal starting the night before. But I knew in advance I'd have the day off, so I planned out a lazy morning of a comforting breakfast, the paper, and a cup of espresso. Buckwheat pancakes and crepes are one of my all-time favorite breakfast choices. Buckwheat's nuttiness can fool you into thinking it's an earthy whole grain, but in fact, it's actually the seed of a fruit. (It only cooks like a cereal.) And so, it's completely gluten free. And thus, most buckwheat batter recipes generally call for equal parts flour and buckwheat flour, to give it more gluten proteins for a finished product that's more chewy and elastic.

Yeast is an amazing organism. Within minutes, it starts its life cycle, able to thrive on sugars alone. The overnight fermentation, or rise, gives these waffles a distinctive heady aroma, a wonderfully nuanced yeasty flavor, reminiscent of a good microbrew. The rise produces an incredibly light texture with a delicate crumb and a crispy exterior. Definitely not your everyday frozen Eggo waffle. Speaking of, these waffles reheat well. Throw them in the toaster or toaster oven to recrisp them.


Yeasted Buckwheat Waffles
Gourmet, October 1997
makes 8 waffles

1 tsp active dry yeast
1 teaspoon sugar
1 cup lukewarm milk
1/4 tsp salt
3/4 cups flour
1/2 cup buckwheat flour
1 Tbsp sugar
2 1/2 Tbsp vegetable oil
1 egg, beaten
1/4 tsp baking soda

1. In a small bowl, sprinkle the yeast into 1/8 cup warm water and stir in the sugar. Let stand until foamy, about 10 minutes.

2. Put the warm milk and salt in a large bowl, then add the yeast mixture and whisk in the flours. Cover and refrigerate overnight if the weather is warm or leave out on the counter if it's cool.

3. Next morning, add the sugar, oil, eggs, and soda. Cook according to your waffle iron's instructions.

maple pecan scones

Maple syrup is such a seductive flavor. It's deep and sensual, subtly sweet as it wraps its way around your tongue. Growing up, my family never ate maple syrup on anything. In fact, we never had pancakes or waffles for breakfast; they were considered too foreign and rich for my parents palate. And so, those little packets of imitation maple syrup that came along with my french toast sticks in the school cafeteria were to me, a real treat. There's always something that's intrigued me about it; it comes from a tree! The fact that it has to be tapped out so slowly and painstakingly from a limited natural source makes it all the more special for me. Unlike some, I'm not too particular about my maple syrup. I have no idea what grade A or B even means, though I'm sure there's a significant difference. It all tastes lovely to me, especially over my banana buckwheat pancakes, a bowl of Greek yogurt, or a crisp slab of Scrapple.

Here, I've incorporated it into delicate, buttery scones. The flavors are mild, so if you like a bit more oomph, add more than 1/4 cup to the recipe. I brought a plateful of these to a brunch party a few weekends ago. They were a hit... I came home with an empty plate of crumbs.



Maple Pecan Scones
adapted from Cooks Illustrated
makes 8 scones or 16 mini scones

8 Tbsp unsalted butter, frozen solid, plus additional 2 Tbsp, melted for brushing
1/2 cup whole milk
1/2 cup sour cream
2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup sugar, plus extra for sprinkling
2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 cup maple syrup
1/4 cup toasted pecan pieces

1. Adjust oven rack to middle position and heat oven to 425 degrees. With the large holes on a box grater, grate the 8 tablespoons of frozen butter. Place grated butter in freezer until needed. Melt 2 tablespoons of remaining ungrated butter and set aside.

2. Whisk together milk and sour cream in medium bowl; refrigerate until needed. Whisk flour, 1/2 cup sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and lemon zest in chilled medium bowl. Add frozen butter to flour mixture and toss with fingers until thoroughly coated.

3. Add milk mixture to flour mixture; fold with spatula until just combined. With rubber spatula, transfer dough to liberally floured work surface. Dust surface of dough with flour; with floured hands, knead dough 6 to 8 times, until it just holds together in ragged ball, adding flour as needed to prevent sticking.

4. Roll dough into approximate 12-inch square. Fold dough into thirds like a business letter, using bench scraper to release dough if it sticks to countertop. Lift short ends of dough and fold into thirds again to form approximate 4-inch square. Transfer dough to plate lightly dusted with flour and chill in freezer 5 minutes.

5. Transfer dough to floured work surface and roll into approximate 12-inch square again. Spread the maple syrup evenly over surface of dough, then press pecans down so they are slightly embedded in the dough. Using a bench scraper or thin metal spatula, loosen dough from work surface. Roll dough, pressing to form tight log. Lay seam-side down and press log into 12 by 4-inch rectangle. Using sharp, floured knife, cut rectangle crosswise into 4 equal rectangles. Cut each rectangle diagonally to form 2 triangles and transfer to parchment-lined baking sheet.

6. Brush tops with melted butter and sprinkle with remaining tablespoon sugar. Bake until tops and bottoms are golden brown, 18 to 25 minutes. Transfer to wire rack and let cool 10 minutes before serving.

cucumber tea sandwiches

Yes, cucumber sandwiches, the kind that you must eat with your forefingers, and with your pinky finger sticking up into the air, along with your nose.

We attended a potluck champagne brunch on Sunday to which I brought these cucumber finger sandwiches and a batch of maple pecan scones. There's honestly nothing really exciting about cucumber sandwiches. If anything, they can come off quite stuffy and bland. But they are a classic, so in my mind, they must be kept alive, no matter how overdone they are. I've tried many different versions in the past, playing with various herbs and breads. I find that this recipe really hits a home run with the crowd, and it's really very simple and economical to make and feed a roomful of guests.

Some suggestions:

- use a firm cucumber; no need to seed
- use a soft, sweeter, multigrain bread (I prefer the Struan loaf from Atwater's: a whole-grain slightly sweet artisan bread made with buttermilk, cornmeal, and honey)
- chill sandwiches before cutting into smaller squares
- don't leave the crusts on; how uncouth!


Cucumber Tea Sandwiches
makers 16-20 finger sandwiches

1 medium firm cucumber
1 8-oz. package cream cheese, at room temperature
3 Tbsp mayonnaise
1 Tbsp dry Italian dressing mix
2 Tbsp fresh chopped parsley
8-10 slices soft multigrain sandwich bread

1. Peel and thinly slice cucumber on a mandoline or with a knife. Set aside.

2. Mix together cream cheese, mayonnaise, Italian dressing mix, and parsley. Let sit for about 30 minutes to let the flavors intensify.

3. Spread cheese mixture on a slice of bread. Add a thin layer of sliced cucumbers. Spread cheese on another slice of bread and press down firmly over the first slice. Repeat with the remaining pieces of bread. Refrigerate for 1 hour.

4. Remove and with a serrated knife, cut off the crusts from each sandwich, then slice into fourths.

the bel-loc diner

Before I write anything else, I have to say that I'm really loving Scrapple. In all my years living in Baltimore, I've never disliked it, just never had the chance to eat it very often. It's hard to describe exactly what it is without turning some stomachs, but once you get over the ingredients, it's not so bad. There are far worse things out there for you, I'm sure. For someone who's grown up eating a lot of pork, Scrapple really isn't very startling. It's mostly cornmeal flavored with miscellaneous pig parts, the leftover pieces, hooves, skin, and innards, then shaped into a grayish block. How does this the go from packaging to your plate? Well, it's sliced thin, pan-fried until crisp, and served alongside eggs or on some toast, oftentimes drizzled with some maple syrup. (This has become my favorite way of ingesting this stuff.) To me, it has a strong livery taste, spiced with onions, and a slight sweetness of the cornmeal. Think of it as a blue-collar version of paté.

The most common brands you'll find in the supermarket are Esskay and Rapa (presumably most locals prefer Rapa brand). I'm partial to the original flavor, but you can also find hot and spicy, Scrapple with bacon, and beef Scrapple.

No, that's not whole wheat toast. That's pork product!

Most of the diners in and around Baltimore offer Scrapple. The Bel-Loc Diner is an institution, a step back straight into the 50's. It's the real deal, with the jukeboxes at each booth, the stainless steel milk machine contraption and a row of well-polished milkshake machines. The food literally comes out 5 minutes after you order from your waitress who will no doubt call you "Hon." And the toast is always served with a small saucer of Kraft butter pats and Welch's grape jelly trays. I had some of the best diner coffee here, strong and steaming hot.

Mr. S and I both had fried eggs, over easy, with hash potatoes and toast. He ordered an additional piece of Scrapple, which was sliced to the perfect thickness and fried crisp on the outside, soft in the middle. The potatoes had pieces that were well-browned and other huge chunks that were almost like they'd been boiled, all soft and buttery in texture. We ended up being too full to order any of their homemade desserts, namely apple and blueberry pie, lemon meringue pie, and carrot cake. The cakestands were also full of large tender muffins, from Costco. (If you've ever had a Costco muffin, you know they are pretty good and huge!) Next time we go, I'll have to try one of their milkshakes, which I hear have a following of their own.



Bel-Loc Diner
1700 E. Joppa Road
Baltimore, MD 21234

b bistro, sunday brunch

Traditional Eggs Benedict

It was like going to your grandmother's house for Sunday brunch. Sitting by the window of a renovated townhouse, sipping on a big mug of coffee, wrapped in a big chunky sweater, something like your grandfather would putz around in. It was all so cozy. They say that couples who brunch together stay together. Mr.S took me to b bistro in Bolton Hill. I had wanted to go to IHOP. In retrospect, his was a much better brunch choice.

The brunch menu is small, which I appreciate since I am the world's most indecisive person. Give me a large menu, and I'll be sitting there for hours wringing my hands. Split up into omelets, and benedicts with 3 variations each, pancakes, a breakfast burrito, and some other breakfasty things, the menu is very straightforward. I had traditional eggs Benedict with Canadian bacon. The yolks were perfectly cooked, the Hollandaise nicely balanced between light and rich. The potatoes however, were slightly wet and mush-like. Mr.S's breakfast burrito was good, with the best part of the dish being the fresh salsa, with like, a ton of garlic. For the filler, there was a generous portion of scrambled egg, sausage, black beans and onion.

Breakfast Burrito

What I love best of "b" is the environment, the warm and extremely social atmosphere. Because of the almost cramped dining room, you are sat in very close proximity to your neighbors. There's the low hum of 10 different conversations going on around you, warmth from the open kitchen in the rear, and the peaceful serenity of the historical residential neighborhood outside. Oh yes, there's a bottle of Tabasco on each table, a small detail I adore. And so, my love affair with b continues...

dorie greenspan's corn muffins

Warm, out of the oven, and drizzled with honey. I have a certain weakness for corny baked things, especially when stone ground cornmeal is used...the grittiness that turns sweet and full of texture when cooked. Imagine such a muffin that crumbles when split, and soaks up a pat of sweet butter when gently plied. Excuse me while I step away from my computer to wipe the drool off my face.

This is Dorie Greenspan's recipe, which calls for all the usual suspects, buttermilk, melted butter, a 50/50 mix of cornmeal and all-purpose flour. I particulary appreciate her addition of freshly grated nutmeg, and an extra egg yolk for a bit of richness. I would suggest baking these babies in a well seasoned muffin pan, cast-iron, if you can get your hands on one. This will produce a crispy, buttery, golden crust that ascends the height of each muffin. Otherwise, they will still turn out fine, just with a softer crust.

I eat these with practically everything, with fried eggs for breakfast yesterday, and with a big bowl of chipotle turkey chili tonight. Such great cold weather food...

oven baked bacon

Oh how I love being totally indulgent at breakfast. I'm currently going through a phase of eating lots of fried eggs, preferably runny, with toast and bacon. These gluttonous breakfasts (a habit I picked up on my trip in China) usually hold me over until the afternoon, when I have a snack, and then wait for dinner.

So for our brunch on Sunday, Mr.S and I, together in the kitchen, whipped up a satisfying and rather large morning meal of fried eggs, english muffins, oven-baked bacon, papaya and raspberries, and many many cups of coffee.

Bacon can be easily prepared in the oven instead of on the stove. They come out beautifully cooked with crisp edges, with a sweet almost caramelized flavor. I sometimes brush mine, before backing, with maple syrup, honey, or mirin. The best part is you don't have to watch over it in the pan like a hawk. Go ahead and enjoy a cup of coffee and the paper.

Oven-Cooked Bacon

Lay out strips of raw bacon on a rack (or cooling rack) over a roasting pan, so that the grease can drip down through the grates. With the oven set to 350F, bake for about 15 minutes. Check to see that the bacon is nicely browned or to desired doneness, and if not, bake for an additional 5-7 minutes.

the red star

Today, as I was reading fellow Baltimore food blogger Marginal Foodie's recent restaurant reviews (and there are many!) I came across a mention of the Red Star in Fells Point. This jogged my memory...I was there two weekends ago for a lovely Sunday brunch. I had however, forgotten to post, as I was admist my brief brain-death pre-LSATs mode. So here it is, lots of gratuitously mouth-watering, pictures of eggs and potato and cheese...

The Red Star rides on the wave of the new gastropub. Clean and sleek, with vaulted ceilings of dark wooden beams and rafters, and tons of exposed brick walls, this bar still manages to maintain a sporty neighborhood feel. It's owned by the same people as the Waterfront Bar, also in Fells, on Thames. There was a large group of us, 8 total, and we comfortably seated ourselves on bar stools around a long table in the middle of the restaurant. As brunch progressed, it got louder and louder, as more and more Ravens fans showed up to watch the game.

A couple of us got their "bottomless" mimosas. For about $9, you choose between mimosas or bloody marys. The oddest thing: the mimosas were served to us in pint glasses...with straws! We saw the bartender premixing them in large pitchers. I guess it's really not that surprising since it is a...bar, duh. The straws though...hmm.


I ordered the crab hash with poached egg and hollandaise. (I apologize, the name of the dish is escaping me.) Jumbo lump crab mixed with a hash of potatoes and sweet potatoes. It was good, but if you're expecting a hash, you may be disappointed. It seemed like the crab was simply tossed with the hash, instead of cooking everything together to let the flavors meld. I also found bits of chicken in my hash, which didn't belong there. The egg was perfectly poached though.

This was more of an open-faced omelette than it was a frittata. On the menu, it was called the Farmer's Market Frittata, or something to that effect. There were about 10 different veggies and meat in it...a true brunch smorgasbord!


Eggs benedict. A very straightforward and clean dish. The only complaint was that the portions were slightly wimpy. The fruit salad of melon and pineapple was a nice addition, though some of it tasted like Old Bay from the hash.


Steak and eggs! No complaints here. A real manly man's kind of brunch dish. Again, the same hash and fruit salad, with one kicker...toast!


The Good Burger, rightly named since it was full of all kinds of good things: bacon, mushrooms, cheese, onions, tomato... According to my friend who polished it off, it was quote "GOOD."

Overall, the food is hearty and filling, but in my opinion, not extremely creative nor comforting. The dishes will not be appearing in my dreams anytime soon. I have a feeling there is a rather large tub of premade hash sitting in their kitchen, that's dished out onto every plate, with or without lump crab. Oh and a big can of Old Bay too. I'd most definitely go back, but probably to get some finger foods or a beer or cocktail from the bar. A sidenote: I did get 10% off our total bill. If you're a Charm City yoga cardholder, you can get the discount when you present your server your card.



Red Star Bar & Grille
906 S. Wolfe Street
Baltimore, MD 21231

platanos maduros

I was happily surprised while making my morning coffee today. I reached behind to find... a ripened plantain! One I had bought about two weeks ago, set on top of my coffee maker to let ripen, and must have accidently slipped off. It was nicely browned and soft, but still firm, to the touch. Foregoing my usual bowl of milk and cereal, I decided to make it a buenos dias, Cubano style.

The sugar crust gives a delicious caramelization to each piece of plantain. I garnished mine with honey, cinnamon, and cane sugar. The latter gives a nice sugary crunch, in contrast to the soft creamy plantain.


Platanos Maduros - Fried sweet plantains

1 ripened plantain (brownish black)
1 tsp sugar
small pat of butter, for frying

honey
cinnamon
raw cane sugar (demerara)

1. Peel and slice the plaintain into 1 inch pieces. In a bowl, roll the plantain in sugar.

2. Heat a skillet and melt the butter. When hot, fry the plantain over low heat, about 1 minute on each side.

3. To serve, spoon into a bowl, and drizzle with honey. Additionally, sprinkle with cinnamon and cane sugar.

fried duck egg with french green lentils

I must have been a French farmer's daughter in another lifetime. I have the fondest affections for simply prepared rustic French dishes, even if it's only a crusty baguette and a piece of runny, ripe Époisse, or a simple frisée salad with lardon vinaigrette. Aside from really good Chinese food, this is what makes me happy. This is what I want to eat when I curl up in bed on a cold rainy afternoon. And it's the way I like to cook too, simply, fresh from the land, close to the home, close to the heart.

mire poix - I really wish carrots had right edges...

I love fried eggs. Especially overtop things, like hash, toast, baked beans, even salad. Even better is fried duck egg over stewed lentils. These lentils, in the classic french style, utilizes lentilles de puy from Auvergne in central France, where the nourishing volcanic soil produces this unique variety is has been referred to as "the caviar of lentils." Its excellence has been recognized by the French government in the form of an Appellation d'Origine Contrôllée (AOC), a distinguished certification that's also used for certain cheeses and wine. Of course, you can use any type of lentil you wish, although I truly believe the lentilles de puy tastes superior.

You can make a big batch of these lentils because the leftovers are all that much better, as the flavors soak into the grains over time. It's low in fat and and a great source of protein and nutrients.


Fried duck egg with French green lentils
L'Oeuf de canard sur le plat et lentilles de Puy

1 cup lentils, any variety
1 carrot, diced small
1 stalk celery, diced small
1/2 onion, diced small
4 sprigs thyme
2 strips bacon, diced small
1 Tbsp butter
1 clove garlic, minced
salt and pepper

eggs, duck or chicken
oil or clarified butter, for frying

1. Wash and rinse the lentils with water, and put into a large pot. Cover with 4-5 cups of water, bring to a boil, and simmer uncovered for 20 min.

2. In a saute pan, cook bacon and thyme together until bacon is golden brown and most of the fat is rendered out. Add the onion and cook until it's almost translucent. Add the salt, carrot, celery, garlic, butter, and 1 cup water. Cook for 5 more min to allow the carrot to tenderize.

3. Drain the water from the lentils. Stir in the bacon and vegetable mixture, with all the liquids and cook over low heat for 10 min. Pick out the thyme stems. Flavor with salt and pepper.

4. Fry the egg to your liking with oil or butter, leaving the center soft.

5. Spoon the lentils onto your plate and top with a fried egg. Garnish with chopped parsley or chives.