Is It Over Yet?

I am acutely aware that I will undoubtedly draw nasty looks from many reading this, but here goes.  Cupcakes annoy me.  Well, actually the cupcake trend annoys me.  The only thing that would annoy me more would be a pink, cupcake food truck, with a cliché name like Crumbs, Buttercream, Sweet Dreams, and so on, that sold cupcakes for 5 bucks each, and I'm sure there's one of those around.

As fast as real businesses are giving in to the reality of the struggles of this economy, moving their business out the back door, the cupcakesters are moving in the front door.  Taking advantage of eager property owners, favorable, short-term rentals and cheap, second hand or home kitchen equipment, that they have little experience using and they move in.  Cupcake shops lack the real world expertise to run a profitable business, so instead, they show us their lack of control when purchasing their ingredients, pass those costs on to the customer and tack on huge markups for profit.  You pay the price for some recent, know-it- all college grad and their marketing degree, which of course, lends the knowledge and respect for business that one would need to participate in such an endeavor.  With arrogance and self-righteousness they sell cupcakes for $4 and $5 a piece and preside over cake pops, whoopie pies, yogurt shops, gastro pubs and truffle popcorn producers everywhere as the king of all things trendy, that also possesses an expiration date.  Cupcakes represent the dumbing down of the skilled trade of baking, they are the triumph of appearance over substance.  They are given a cold shoulder from real bakers, people who have spent years learning an art, they are granted credibility from the Food Network and other media outlets who, are just capitalizing on the trend for their own profits.  Nonetheless, they have found a special place in hearts and town centers of many.  Yes, they remind us of our childhood and some could say they are fun to eat, although I use a fork most times.

I'm sure most of us have tried one of these fad cupcakes.  Your observation was probably like unto my own; this thing is way too sweet.  Let's compare these fancied-up, high priced servings of cake to something a bit more meaningful; pie.  When made properly, with quality ingredients and by someone who cares about the product, pie is rarely very sweet.  Why would you mask the awesome flavors of the fruit and the hard work that went towards preparing the dough from scratch?  This is the difference, since pie is relatively NOT considered a fad, it has been spared the pollution from the trendy types who really have no idea how to bake.  Pie is found attractive to  different groups of individuals; people who actually value the food they eat and people who actually value the process behind producing something good to eat. Pie requires skill, finesse and a thorough understanding of flavor and appreciation of quality.  Pie doesn't have to look attractive, it's not hiding anything, or trying to divert your attention away from what it lacks.  The skill of a cupcake baker seems to be more in their ability to dress up the top of an otherwise poorly baked, small cake.

My cousin Jess started an interesting project over a year ago.  She bought the largest cookbook she could find, that was filled of pie recipes only.  She then began the arduous task of recreating every pie in that book.  On occasion, when she visits, she will actually commandeer my kitchen and produce one more pie.  Her blog and the picture journal she has created to chronicle her efforts tells an interesting story and confirms my thoughts on what baking truly is.  Baking is something that you work on to perfect, it's not something for which a kit is sold, and it's not something that a bit of fancy camouflage will be sufficient to make desirable.  Follow her blog and judge for yourself.  A year after she began this project, her technical aptitude and passion is shown in every pie she shares with us. 

I made a pie this morning with my daughter.  She loved helping measure some ingredients and lay out the crust.  I think she loves making pies so much because she thinks I can't see her when she steals some of the fruit out of the bowl, but that's fine by me, I had her in the kitchen and that's all that matters. 

As we see what unfolds around us, with this trend and every other, I can't help but wonder; is there a strong enough demand for these premium-priced cupcakes to justify this kind of market expansion? Or, are cupcakes just another soon to be forgotten, food fad?      

**Throughout this article are pictures of my pie, that I made today and some of my cousin Jess' creations.  I purposely left the edges of my pie sloppy, because I like making statements.   ©2012 http://peace-of-pie.com/

www.etsy.com/shop/roccoscountryspice

roccocooks@gmail.com

http://roccoscountryspice.blogspot.com/2012/04/all-good-things-must-come-to-trend.html

The Sum of a Thousand Lies

Imagine for a minute, that you own a beef business.  By that, I mean you either raise or process beef for human consumption.  The ever tightening economy has you up at night pondering business practices to increase your profitability.  Maybe then you realize how much money your business has been spending on the disposal of those extra cow parts, the fat, connective tissue and tiny bits.  Maybe you wish there was a way to somehow market this product, but who would buy this waste, and for what purpose?  Then the idea hits you like a cattle prod.  Take this waste, blend it into a pink mass and flood the mixture with some ammonia to kill  the E. Coli, of course.  Then, all that's left is to sell it to profit-over-quality fast food restaurants and some school lunch programs.  This actually isn't your idea, it's the genius minds at Beef Products, Inc and they have made some business of feeding us this junk.

I didn't actually have to tell you this story, like me, you have known this for some time now.  This information has had such a profound effect on how I shop for food and what I prepare for my family, it owns a piece of this blog.  This was one of a handful of reasons I can identify for taking a hard look at what comes into my kitchen, and it should be for you too.  As I sat and thought about how we have been deceived, I struggled to define my course of action, but I refuse to allow my children to be fed this for-profit poison.  Finally, I have my course of action; prove to myself that I can make it better, or at least just as good, by using single ingredients (whenever possible) and document my experiences.  So here we are, you're reading it!   

I love a good burger.  Beyond the fact that I can no longer support food establishments that serve this waste beef product, I fundamentally disagree with some business practices of these large establishments, but I will spare you those details, for now.  I will just focus on the burger.  With this being said, I am aware that I have basically limited myself to eating burgers at home.  Rest assured, I do not miss the fast food version one bit.  I don't buy frozen beef patties anymore.  We have seen exactly what they contain.  I don't get excited by phrases like "angus" or "prime".  These are mostly a dog and pony show, skirting around the USDA guidelines to add "value" to an otherwise valueless product.  I go to a butcher, I look at a piece of beef and then I ask for said piece of beef to be ground to a specific coarseness that I request.  Assuming you can trust the butcher, as I do, you know exactly what is in the ground beef you bring home.  I made some burgers for this article.  They were very good.  I mixed in a bit of olive oil, shaped them into patties and sprinkled a healthy dose of my Hickory SmokedSea Salt and some fresh black pepper.  I grilled them over natural oak char-coal and made some caramelized red onion to top them off. 

I keep my grills and smoker out all winter, and yes I have two grills.  I have a propane grill and a char-coal grill.  The idea behind the smoked salt was for the odd occasion that I may not be up to standing outside in the dead of winter.  Smoke the salt in the nice weather, and enjoy the "grilled" taste in the warmth of your house.  Now, I really don't care what season it is, I just like the salt and use it quite a bit. 

When I was young, every day I would make "the rounds" with my grandfather Rocco.  We would visit the Dairy for milk, the bakery, the produce guy and the butcher.  Most times he was buying a little something, and sometimes we just went to say hi.  Countless times, I watched my grandfather buy a piece of beef, bring it home and grind it with a hand grinder for whatever he was cooking.  As I would sit and watch, I remember always thinking to myself how he is inconveniencing himself, how the stores have this already prepackaged.  My grandfather was a firefighter, but worked a part-time job for a while as a butcher at a local market.  It wasn't until I was sitting here writing this article, when I actually realized why he took the extra step and did it himself.  My grandfather knew well the value of doing it yourself.  He understood that quality is something produced, not purchased.  The food industry has been lying to us since my grandfather's days, and well before.  They continue now and pursue more profitable, more egregious and more pervasive means to achieve their goals.  Sometimes, you miss out on the knowledge others may have to offer.  Sometimes, you get lucky and remember.    

  

Roccocooks@gmail.com

www.etsy.com/shop/roccoscountryspice

http://roccoscountryspice.blogspot.com/2012/04/neutrality-means-that-you-dont-really.html

 

Never At A Ballpark

As I sat in the doctor's office, my wife a few weeks pregnant with our daughter, I listened to the doctor review a list of eating and lifestyle changes that would have to be made.  Just before we walked into this appointment, I was aware that certain foods were now off limits for my wife for the next 9 months.  I made the decision that, in order to be more supportive, I would adopt the restricted diet as well.  The doctor starts to list the restricted foods; no sushi, no alcohol, no caffeine, take vitamin, blah, blah, no hot dogs.  That was the exact moment in time that I gave up on my short-lived, but most genuine attempts to be supportive.  No hot dogs, that a deal breaker. 

I realize that the focus of this blog, so far, has been centered on the idea of "homemade" and generally "good" stuff.  I am also aware that hot dogs do not fall into either category, therefore have no business in this arena, however, I am the author.   I make the rules and if you have trust in me at all, there are two exemptions to this rule; hot dogs and Taylor Ham.  if you're not from Jersey, I'd bet you don't have the foggiest idea of what Taylor Ham is, and that's a good thing for now.  I will further discuss Taylor Ham at a later, unspecified time.  Right now, it's all about hot dogs, and to finish my story, all I'll say is that I am now familiar with eating hot dogs and sucking down a burning hot coffee, in the privacy of my vehicle while running "errands".

New Jersey is a Mecca for Hot Dog lovers.  Chances are good that in your home town, there is a Hot Dog place.  Chances are even better that the ideas, flavors, cooking style or the actual proprietor of that very stand, are from New Jersey.  There are no Taco trucks and very few roadside BBQ joints here.  There's Hot Dogs.  Our newspapers rank the best Hot Dog places around the state, and so do me and some of my buddies.  We make a pilgrimage around the state to the best of the best.  One guy handles mapping and site selection, one guy handles research, most of them just eat and I drive.

Businesses where Hot Dogs are cooked and sold to the public are broken into categories.  You have Hot Dog trucks, restaurants which sell other things, but are known for their Hot Dogs and finally, you have Hot Dog joints (like a stand).  These places do Hot Dogs and they may have other menu items, but nobody pays attention to them. 

Growing up, a good friend of mine owned a Hot Dog truck.  To be more specific, his family owned the truck, all of us just felt like we owned it every Saturday at 12:30pm when we would show up and hit the dogs hard.  Everything sold on this truck, except the Hot Dogs, was homemade.  I have spent many nights, in a basement kitchen, helping my friend peel potatoes and onions for their famous sweet onion topping for these dogs.  For this article, I am preparing my most favorite sweet onions, which I learned in that basement.  Out of respect to my friend (who took over the family business), I can't give out the entire ingredient list, but what I'm making tastes great anyways.  Email me for the abbreviated recipe, that will change how you do dogs.

When you come to New Jersey, you have to try some different Hot Dog joints.  I'd be happy to use this as an excuse to eat more than 6 dogs in a day, but if you didn't want me around, here is the absolute and final say on where you need to visit.  These are the best, and trust me, I've been to them all. 

Best Hot Dog Truck: The Original Chris' Red Hots- Branch Brook Park (by the tennis courts), Newark, NJ.  A semi-mashed potato mixture with chopped vinegar peppers and cheese is almost beyond words.  My second dog here is just the sweet onions and mustard.  Yes, it's a dirty water dog, or the more colloquial "tube steak" but they are just perfect.    

Best Restaurant that's known for Hot Dogs: Max's- Long Branch, NJ (a block from the beach).  Some of my fondest childhood memories are of taking the trip to this place.  It's always packed and the dogs are awesome.  No frills, just simple and well done, with a pot of sauerkraut on every table (whether you want it there or not).  Anytime I'm even close to their neck of the woods I swing by.  For the longest time, no store sold this very distinctive Hot Dog, so, every time we would go there when I was young, we took a cooler of them home with us.  Now, a few stores around sell the Hot Dogs that they use.  On the grill in the summer, I can get pretty close, but there's just something they do to it that I can't figure out.   

Best Hot Dog Joint: Jimmy Buff's- West Orange (this is where I go, but I'm a creature of habit), East Hanover, Scotch Plains, Kenilworth and Randolph, NJ.  These guys are winners of more than a handful of awards, local recognitions and a personal favorite of the "Munchmobile", which is sponsored by a local newspaper.  I have been here countless times, and for the life of me, I don't know if they even have a menu.  It really doesn't matter, I only get the Italian style dog.  Its fried with sliced potatoes, peppers and onions and I get some mustard.  Its served on Italian bread that I won't even try to explain.  It's just awesome.  They are unique, special and perfectly executed, every time.  I have never had a bad experience here.  Even at lunch time, when the lines are long, the service is remarkably fast.  That's a good thing because you can smell the aroma of the perfect creation frying, before you open their door and you only have a few minutes before you're going crazy.  Great dogs and no apologies, this should be first on your list.  It's amazing just how many people travel to eat here.  I can't tell you how many times I've been eating here and I see cars with out-of state plates in the parking lot.  People travel to visit these guys.   

My grandfather worked for a few years in a meat factory, that produced Bologna and Hot Dogs.  This is actually how he met my grandmother.  Apparently, back in those days, Bologna and Hot Dogs were manufactured using an inedible casing in order to maintain shape as the product cooked.  When I was young, my grandfather would lecture my sister and I on the process of Hot Dog manufacturing, noting on a regular basis, that some lesser-quality Hot Dog manufacturers still left this "skin" on.  After some research, I have discovered that this practice ended over fifty years ago, but as a child I heard of these unscrupulous Hot Dog purveyors, and I'm pretty sure my grandfather knew this too, but would tell this same story every time he peeled the "skin" off our Hot Dogs, leaving a barely palatable resemblance of the original product.  To this day, when my sister is over and I cook up some dogs, she will smirk and ask if I remembered to peel the "skin". 

The most ironic bit of this whole story; my wife is less than enthusiastic about Hot Dogs and just last week, I asked my 2 year old daughter if she would like a Hot Dog.  Her response; "no thanks, I'm allergic to those".  Impossible, I say!   

www.etsy.com/shop/roccoscountryspice
www.facebook.com/roccoscountryspice
roccocooks@gmail.com
http://roccoscountryspice.blogspot.com/2012/04/it-doesnt-exist-but-it-does.html

It Doesn't Exist, But It Does....

If you live in New Jersey, you are most likely a victim of the Garden State's toll roads, and the "legend" surrounding them.  As the story goes, many years ago, the State needed funding to support some cause or cover some debt.  So, the government, like with all things, decided to impose a tax in the form of a toll on these roads.  One small caveat to the law; the toll collecting had to be justifiable and represent a current need for the funding, which would be used on those roads.  Simply put, so long as there is "work" being done on these roads, the toll is collected.  The result; overpaid and rude toll collectors, roads that are in various states of disrepair and strategically placed paving machines and excavators every so often on the center median.    

Once a tax is collected, the government has the most difficult time imagining life without.  I am writing of the New Jersey paradigm simply to highlight the existence of this most pervasive trend, and its survivability to this very day.  This story is intended to expand upon a story with a far richer history, dating back to the Civil War.  Alcohol, more specifically home brewed beer, wine and spirits, also known as Moonshine, in many parts of the country. 

Similar to the discriminatory New Jersey road tax (poetic license), that civil war didn't pay for itself, so the government decided to impose a "temporary" tax to help fund the Union.  After the war, they needed that tax to rebuild.  Afterwards, take a guess what happened to the tax, or better yet, look at your receipt the next time you buy some wine for dinner.  Still there.  This eventually lead to a revolt and was probably the single largest catalyst for home brewing in the history of our country.  Many people reverted back to brewing or distilling spirits for their own consumption (and maybe a bit for their neighbors too).  Some did it to illegally resell, some in protest of the tax and others as a matter of continuing a family tradition.    

It's no secret that the government loves to tell us what they know is best for us. After all, who but Big Brother should know ourselves better?  This, of course, seems to be their preferred method of "guidance".  Obviously, liquor produced in one's home doesn't create a positive revenue source for the government, so the war began.  We are told of the dangers of a product that isn't regulated and the lack of quality controls that make it unsafe.  We are shown images and told stories of distillers of all kinds portrayed as backwoods hillbillies, uneducated, inept and criminals.  Is this really true? Or is the government showing you a small group of bad seeds to persuade your opinions of the entire group?  According to some home brewing associations and groups, the majority of home brewers:

           - Have technical or professional occupations.

          - Are well educated, with the majority possessing college degrees.

          - Most fall into the middle to upper-middle class income range. (RaiseYourPints.com, 2009) 

Just to be clear, there is a difference between someone who is engaging in the criminal act of marketing spirits for the purpose of avoiding tax and someone producing beer, wine or spirits, at home for their personal consumption.  Today, taxes have changed slightly, with regard to alcohol.  Today, alcohol is subject to one of the so called "sin taxes", which has proven to be the most ineffective forms of taxation.  In my opinion,  sin taxes represent a group of individuals who are attempting to force change upon the people they tax, by calling it "immoral".  Once again, proving they know best.  Never once is any consideration given to the idea that an individual may be able to produce a small batch of wine that puts to shame a 92 point Pinot Noir in their basement. 

I very rarely drink beer.  Sometimes, I'll have some wine but I would always choose homemade wine over a something commercially produced.  I always look forward to the late fall, when the homemade wine is ready.  In my laundry room right now, is a shelf, full of my home brewed, blueberry ale.  I have to say, it's a decent beer.  What makes this beer really special?  Obviously, it's homemade.  You may be wondering why, after I just told you that I didn't often drink beer, would I make my own.  Like many other things, it's the process.  I went to the market and bought all of the ingredients, I cooked it, I waited three weeks to bottle it, and there is sediment at the bottom of the bottle, and that's special.  My mark is on that beer.    

Last week, I received a gift from my cousin Levi, a long time "Rocco sympathizer" and Founding Member of our 2011 Championship BBQ team.  It was a plain brown bottle, given to me by his wife.  It survived a cross-country journey, to be delivered to me with specific instructions; "Levi says don't drink it 'till Thursday".  Well, I waited a few extra days to fully respect the brew and consume it as I am composing this article.  It's not just the beer.  Don't get me wrong, the beer is excellent.  Its malty, with a gentle bite with hints of caramel, sweetness and fruit.  But what is really special here, what's really special with most foods and drinks is knowing the person who created it.  Its special to get something from someone across the country, who took the time to think of me and enlist the help of spouse (with directions for consumption) just to get me a single beer.   

Like I've said, I rarely consume alcohol but my experiences with home brewed beer and homemade wine have further proven my position on "homemade".  This would be a great project to take on.  It's fun and the beer at least, would be ready just in time for the summer.  I can tell you one thing for sure, as Levi and I stay up all night, running our smoker for the 2012 BBQ competition, there may be a homebrew or two consumed. 

As for the experience of home brewing as a whole, I can almost hear the words out of the mouths of all those before; "Don't tread on me".  Take advantage of your 200 gallon federal exemption!  

Excuse the wine glasses....I can't find a pint glass

"Some people believe that everything in moonshining boils down to the almighty dollar and who is going to get it- the government or the moonshiner.  Some question which is the greedier of the two."- Sarah Quinn Hambrick "The Quinn Clan" 1993.   

roccocooks@gmail.com 

www.etsy.com/shop/roccoscountryspice

For Love Of.....Donuts

Law enforcement professionals from East to West have been plagued for ages with a bad rap; do cops love donuts?  Well, I have some experience in law enforcement and maybe even a bit of inside knowledge.  I hope to shed some light on this most egregious of accusations. 

First, allow me to validate the opinions that are to follow.  I worked as a 911 communicator for a local police department for a few years, mainly working the demoralizing "night" shift which was 7pm to 7am.  Now that I have proven a working knowledge of the topic at hand, allow me to continue with some observations. 

Try to count how many times your burglar alarm went off accidentally last year, probably two or three times, right?  Now take a rough estimate of the number of businesses in your town and multiply that number by 3.  Alarms are constantly going off and the police are constantly responding to check on the business at night, many times, entering with a key that is kept in a safe at headquarters.  Cops know exactly how dirty a restaurant is.  Generally, donut shops, especially Dunkin Donut stores are very well kept.  There was literally a list of restaurants that I would never eat at in the town I worked in for that very reason.  Cops always know the best spots to eat. 

Beyond this exclusive knowledge, there is one thing that keeps anyone working a night shift sane, its routine.  To survive my nights, I would structure my entire shift, from when I took breaks to when I completed paperwork.  Cops are very habitual and survive on this routine.  Obviously, coffee was integrated into that schedule for myself and everyone I worked with.  You would rely on this also if the only way to see your family was to sacrifice your own sleep hours when everyone else is awake.  Often times, Dunkin Donuts was the only clean restaurant that was open at 2 am, the bagel store doesn't open until 5:30 and by then, your already looking forward to going to sleep in two hours, so coffee is out of the question.  Donuts are the perfect partner to coffee.  How can you blame a cop who partakes in the enjoyment of a freshly made donut after walking into the shop, as the donuts are being fried, and gazes upon the most perfect display of portable enjoyment one could imagine.

My finial observation is that cops love free.  Yes, a shocker, when cops go to the coffee shop, it's almost always on the house.  Every cop I know would always throw the equivalent into the tip jar as a "thank you" or "you didn't have to, I wasn't expecting it", but in reality, it's just not about the few bucks in free stuff.  Cops just love the idea of free.  If Dunkin Donuts started selling whole Prosciutto di Parmas, cops would get a reputation for loving Italian, salt-cured hams.

I left the police department with a little less hair, a keen ability to leave emotion at home and focus, and a love of donuts.  My favorite donut of all time; a maple glazed donut from Tim Horton's.  Dunkin Donuts' maple glazed is good, when you can find it, but maple is in the blood of every Canadian.

Lately, I've been having a challenging time finding maple donuts, so today I took matters into my own hands.  My daughter and I have created the most amazing maple donut you could ever imagine.  Take a second and actually imagine the perfect maple donut.  Now then, take that donut and add apples, and maple glazed bacon, plus a bit of good old "homemade" taste.  Feel free to email me for the recipe. 

Lets also remember, cops didn't buy ALL of the millions of donuts sold at Dunkin Donuts last year, a few other people ate some of those donuts too, but we never hear of those teachers and their donuts, or those engineers and their love of Boston Cream. Maybe the next time we hear this true, but harsh characterization of police officers, we will remember that when they went to work today, they kissed their families goodbye, and told their children they would see them in the morning, knowing well that there was a chance they might not, so give them a break.

Disclaimer: I purposely chose the spelling of the aforementioned subject in order to pay tribute to my favorite coffee retailer.

www.etsy.com/shop/roccoscountryspice

Roccocooks@gmail.com

Neutrality Means That You Don't Really Care

If living a life in captivity is exactly the same as in the wild, explain to me, why do the killer whales at all Sea World parks have that curved top fin? Strange, huh? The arrogance of the scientists involved is so profound, they believe, or want you to believe that the human being has been able to create an environment that is exactly the same as nature. Although I obviously have very strong views regarding Sea World, the point I'm making here is specifically with regards to those very lofty, comforting signs we see at the "fresh" fish counter at our local markets. I'm talking about farm raised.

We have been force-fed the idea that aquaculture, or farm-raising certain types of fish for human consumption is the cure for our ever growing demand for fresh seafood. We have a virtually unlimited supply and can feel good about it because we aren't depleting any natural resources in the process. Certain grocery chains have launched huge campaigns selling us this idea, almost so strongly that one has to wonder if they are the ones needing the convincing. 

Look closely, the next time you see some farm raised salmon at the fish counter, on the label you will see the words: "color added". Farm raised salmon actually contains a color additive to generate the pinkish hue that we expect. This is done because farm raised salmon has a slightly different color, more grey, less pink. Farm raised fish are fed pellets of fish meal and antibiotics to produce the heaviest fish they can at "harvest". Observations have been made in the areas that surround these massive sea cages, indicating the presence of the cage and unnatural fish population, combined with the chemical additives in the feed has resulted in devastation to the local ecosystem.

As more research is conducted, the hard truth comes to light. According to the Environmental Protection Agency's own guidelines, consuming more than one meal per month, which contains farm raised salmon, could pose an unacceptable risk of cancer or certain neurological conditions.

This is a joke, businesses all over the world have realized that the modern day gold rush is on; it's called green, eco-friendly, sustainable, responsible and so on. These businesses have developed clever techniques for selling this dream to you. They make you feel guilty or wrong for choices you are making. They do this for profit, not for sustainability or stewardship.



A few years back, I was traveling quite a bit to Nova Scotia, Canada for business. On my flights in, I would always see these large sea cages in the Gulf of Maine and think how remarkable they were. I thought to myself how profitable they must be as it would only take a handful of people to care for the whole production. On one of these trips, I took a ride with a good buddy of mine to a small fishing village called Clam Harbour. I learned that Clam Harbour mainly serves as a port for lobster boats. It was winter when I was there and I saw mountains, probably thousands of lobster pots racked up on the docks waiting for another season. Looking back at the irony of that trip, I realize how catastrophic the move towards aquaculture could be for the local economies in these communities. There is pride and culture in fishing. It is a way of life and it's worth preserving.

The farm-raising community would like us to believe that their way is the only true way to protect the world's fisheries. This, of course, is completely false. The United States and Canada have, in recent years, taken a more active role in the preservation of OUR fisheries, however, some Mediterranean countries, Japan and China continue to demonstrate an arrogant disregard for reality, and agreements that they have individually chosen to agree to as a part of worldwide efforts to responsibly manage this resource.

For health's sake, look at the label. Buy wild caught, when you are out at a restaurant, ask your server and like everything else, think twice if it doesn't say "Product of USA" or "Product of Canada". For many of you, the money that bought the food on your dinner table tonight is going to be as a result of a small business. Buying wild caught fish puts food on your neighbor's table.

Pictured above, wild caught Pacific King Salmon (that I went to three different stores to find), lightly salted with my Hickory Smoked Sea Salt and grilled over natural oak char-coal.

 

www.etsy.com/shop/roccoscountyspice

Roccocooks@gmail.com

Tea For The Fishes

My wife's family is obsessed with Disney World.  For the two years since my daughter's birth, I have dodged an almost constant barrage of less than subtle suggestions to take the trip to Disney.  Last summer, I finally caved to the increasing pressure and guilt that was building, that my daughter and three month old son were missing out on a trip that was made to seem as though it was necessary for their development.  As we embarked on this pilgrimage that seemed to almost have a religious significance to it, I looked forward to the intense and oppressive, late summer in Orlando, overpriced theme park food and battling dehydration for a week as I refused to pay $4 for a bottle of water with Mickey ears on it (bottled from a municipal source).

There are a few stand outs for me on this trip.  Obviously, my Daughter had a great time.  My son, on the other hand, could have been on the International Space Station for all he knew.  But beyond the obvious, something very special for me was finding a spice and tea shop on one of Disney's properties.  Thanks to my wife and in-laws occupying my children, I was able to look over every square inch of this store.  I left the store with a small bag of treasure and my head spinning with all the recipes I wanted to try as soon as we arrive back home.  The night we came home, I prepared some tea.  I had the Breakfast Blend and my wife had the Marrakesh Mint.  This was my first experience with loose tea and I have to say, there is little it shares in common with its younger sibling, the tea bag.

Tea is the most consumed, prepared beverage in the world, and for good reason. It has literally been the focal point of the revolution that created our country.  It's health benefits have been known for thousands of years, just don't tell that to the scientists doing that very research today.   I inherited my love for tea.  My mother takes her tea seriously.  She prides herself on "quitting" tea while she was pregnant like others talk about quitting smoking while they were pregnant.  I learned at a young age that it is not okay to microwave your water for tea, it has to be boiled.

Finding this tea in Disney World was bitter sweet.  I savored every cup I made from that bag of loose tea, but I knew it would soon run out.  Sure, there are a few tea stores around here but who wants to deal with some stuffy, phony, French implant to New Jersey who wants you to believe he knows all there is to know about spices and teas because he has that fake French accent (even though he's lived here for 30 years).  Who are these people kidding anyways?  All they are doing is reciting the description of some package that he hides under the table, and pours the tea into some fancy jars up on the counter.   These people are unapproachable and their stores aren't worth my patronage. 

Just around the time I returned from Florida, I shared the experience I had with my Mother, knowing she would appreciate my frustration.  Coincidentally, she had just attended a class in Philadelphia on loose teas and had some samples, which I most surreptitiously removed from her kitchen.  These were amazing samples.  This tea drank my "Disney tea" for breakfast.  This tea was so complex, it reminded me of drinking wine.  Just an amazing product.  This is how we all should be enjoying our tea.  My Mother received the samples from the host of the class, Alexis Siemons, who as I understand, was knowledgeable, enthusiastic and most of all; approachable.  I had to find out more, so I checked out her website.   www.teaspoonsandpetals.com was simple and straight forward.  It highlighted Alexis' vast knowledge of her trade in a manner that was inviting.  She can create a special tea blend customized for your company's brand or private event, design a unique blend for your everyday use and act as you personal tea consultant.  You can always tell those who do what they love and believe in, there is just an organic sense about their work. 

Tea is much more than an alternative to coffee.  It's social, it's intimate, it's sophisticated and deep.  In many cultures, value is placed on the process of preparing tea and I am starting to understand and value it as well. If you are like me, which you probably are if you are still reading this, you realize how important what we consume is to the quality of our lives.  You also want to feel good about the businesses, farms and producers with whom you give the honor of your patronage.   We are not a people like unto those that have come before.  The relationship that is built between a consumer and business is, in many ways, like the simple cup of tea, which as we see is much more complex. 

Tea is a part of our history and its ability to remain relevant in our "modern" lives is a testament to how special it really is.                    

In case you're wondering how the trip was for my kids, last week my daughter told me that we need to move.  When I asked her where she should move to, she responded by saying " um..I think Disney World would be great".  So, it looks like I'll be returning, but I won't be coming home with any tea next time.  I'll have my own custom blend by then.

"We were merry, in an undertone, at the idea of making so large a cup of tea for the fishes"

          -Joshua Wyeth 1826, Boston Tea Party Patriot.  

RoccoCooks@gmail.com

www.etsy.com/shop/roccoscountryspice

Speak Softly, Carry A Large Bastone

So yesterday, I baked some bread with my daughter.  She loves helping in the kitchen and recently, bread has been something that I have been focusing on creating at home. 

I encourage you to follow along here, so I'll give you a minute to get into the kitchen...  Ok, now go into your cabinets and get out the Azodicarbonamide, Calcium Propionate, and Ammonium Sulfate.  Sounds wrong, right?  After all we are attempting to make one of the oldest and most basic, life sustaining foods that appears in some form or another in EVERY culture in the world.  How could the Ancient Egyptians have baked their bread in 4000 BC without Ammonium Sulphate?

On my counter, right now, sits a loaf of Arnold "Country White" bread.  There is an astonishing twenty-six ingredients listed on the package.  Does that sound like a product from a bakery, or a product from a factory?

The bread I baked with my daughter yesterday has five ingredients, and I bet you could name them all.  Granted, my bread will be stale tomorrow and has a less-than-perfect shape but I produced that bread with my own hands, not a machine and I spent two hours with my daughter, teaching her to appreciate homemade food. 

Last year, I spotted an intriguing  package of over-priced ice cream in the store.  It was a pint of Haagen-Dazs "Five" as they call it.  The pitch here is that there is only five ingredients in this ice cream and how amazing it is to embrace simplicity (the latter being my own editorial insight).  I bought some of the Vanilla Bean "Five" ice cream.  I won't lie, its good ice cream.  As I sat and enjoyed my astronomically priced ice cream, I read the ingredient list;  Skim milk, Cream, Sugar, Egg yolks and "Vanilla" (Vanilla bean flakes and Vanilla extract).  Are they kidding me?  I just paid way too much for this "Five" ice cream that actually has six ingredients.  It is insulting to realize that Haagen-Dazs must have such an arrogant disregard for my own intelligence that they would market this product under clearly false pretenses. 

Subsequent to my initial frustrations, I started to consider all the companies these days, preaching to us of all the good they do and how they take the responsible path and so on.  Companies remove poisonous chemicals from cleaning products and replace them with similarly effective "Natural" alternatives and then proceed to bash those chemical and explain why they are now so much better.  Didn't they use those chemicals for years, lie and tell us they were harmless and safe for our homes?   

When I was ten years old I made ice cream in my kitchen.  I used EXACTLY five ingredients.  So the question remains, does Haagen-Dazs want me to send them an award for using five (actually six) ingredients?  Do they want people to acknowledge how responsible they are?  Maybe they see the handwriting on the wall like every other company these days.  Maybe they know that you are proving to be a better home cook than you thought you were.  Maybe they are realizing that we are becoming wise to their games.  Or maybe they have realized that we would rather make the product, enjoy the time with our families in doing so, and have absolute control over what we consume. 

I have the Haagen-Dazs award certificate collecting dust on my desk. If they would ever respond to my email from last year, I would know what address to send it to.  After all, they deserve it!  

All Good Things Must Come To A (Tr)end...

My great-grandparents were immigrants from Italy and Scotland.  They came to this country with little more than the traditions and customs of their respective cultures and made do with what they had in their new home.  Back in those days, there was no obsession with trends like there is today, especially when it came to food.  When it came to food there was a few principles that were followed; they ate what they could afford, cherished and appreciated that food because it was a blessing that brought them back to their homeland (metaphorically, of course). 

As a kid, I remember eating Sunday meals by my Grandparents house and being served a dense brick of yellow cement called Polenta.  While I ate this, I often wondered if there was a single classmate of mine being served the same.  Or how about the wide selection of salt cured meats that I'll just classify into the Sopressata category.  My Grandfather's name was Americo.  He went by the nickname of Kelly his whole life in an attempt to "Americanize" himself to have a better chance of fitting in.  He used to tell me stories of how he would shop for his groceries.  A few times a week, different vendors would travel the streets of his neighborhood with horse-drawn wagons hawking their goods.  There was a cheese man, fruit and vegetable guy, a butcher, and a guy who sold nothing but salt and blocks of ice.  My Grandparents were trendsetters.  They ate free-range, organic and non-GMO meats, fruit, and vegetables.  They drank raw milk and ate raw honey as a special treat.  They supported their local economy because they only bought local. 

As the trend returns, some of us have been doing this for years and sit and watch the marketing machines at work.  They love pitching us these ideas and love more when Polenta is an exotic new side dish to a $27 entree at some three star restaurant in New York.  

You and I know better, we've been there before.  Nothing has changed for us.  Supporting your local businesses and farms make sense just like it did for our Grandparents.  They knew the value to keeping that dollar among their neighbors and they loved knowing the actual person who produced their food. 

So, finally allow me to get to my point here.  The other day, I found something really awesome.  It's called "beef loin flap meat".  Aside from the horrendous name rolling off your tongue like a brick covered in tar, this is a special cut of meat.  I'm giving you time now to go buy some and enjoy it before it follows the path of all the peasant cuts before it.  Hanger steak, flatiron steak, skirt steak, just to name a few, were considered poor, valueless cuts of beef that the butcher would take home to his family instead of wasting.  Slowly, over time, some clever restaurant owners bought these cuts from their purveyors to save some money because butchers would sell them for a fraction of the cost of more popular cuts.  Over time, people started to realize how exquisite and flavorful they really were.  I'll spare you the entire economic explanation here and just ask you to look at the menu the next time you're out.  How does $22 sound for a five ounce piece of flatiron steak.  Have I made my point?

I prepared this beef loin flap three ways.  I grilled some over natural oak charcoal with some hickory smoked sea salt, lemon juice, and olive oil.  I braised some in my slow cooker with a mixture of Asian seasonings and I smoked some over hickory wood with a bit of sea salt.  It's just amazing.  Tender like a filet mignon with the fat and flavor of a rib eye or strip.  Take my advice and enjoy it now at $5.99/ lb.  Soon enough it will be on a menu somewhere like all the other peasant food.   

As I sit here reflecting on my childhood, my family, and the way things are now, I am almost embarrassed that my Grandparents felt so much pressure to fit in and feared discrimination for who they were; that they would suppress their culture to the point of changing names.  Today, everything is politically correct, trendy, soulless, and just generally full of itself with pride for what they have "discovered" or "created".  The same people my ancestors feared are the people pushing this "blended" trendy, culture.  Why do we need this?  My relatives spoke Italian in the privacy of their homes or in the company of those of like background.  Now, every government sign has to be in English and Spanish.  Is this evolution, or the erosion of individual culture and movement toward "sameness"?  A common question throughout my life has been "Is Rocco your REAL name?".  My legal name is Rocco, and my Grandfather's name was Americo, not Kelly.