I guess it makes some weird kind of sense that I’m following up a post on how I’m struggling to stay fit with one that talks about what I’ll be putting in my mouth during Worldcon this August. But that’s the way I roll.

I have only one meal nailed down—a 36th anniversary dinner at Girl and the Goat, where I look forward to eating pig face, crispy goat skin, and smoked duck fat. There are a few other gastronomical wonders I’m hoping for, such as the playground that is Alinea and the apparent perfection that is Next, but neither of those is a certainty. In fact, far from being locks, they may be impossibilities. But I can dream, can’t I?

And then there are the less exclusive joints, the sorts of places I’ve been visiting during my travels thanks to tips from Adam Richman of Man v. Food. Will I find the marvel that was Bruges Waffles and Frites, which I visited during this year’s World Horror Convention in Salt Lake City, or the disappointment that was the Old Salty Dog in Sarasota? I have no idea. But here’s what’s promised by Man v. Food‘s Chicago episode.

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Earlier this month, I told you about the best meal of my life. Now, because Astrid y Gaston was kind enough to forward me a copy of its menu, you can play the home game, and try to make up your mind as to what you’d order from this most amazing bill of fare (an English version of which seems not to exist anywhere else online).

First, the appetizers …

Then, the entrees … (more…)

Sure, Peru—and especially Machu Picchu—was a magical, mystical experience. But I know what you’re really interested in.

How did all those guinea pigs taste?

And before you accuse me of barbaric behavior for dining on animals which have been domesticated as pets in the U.S., all I can say to that is, when it comes to guinea pigs—or cuy, as they’re called in Peru—the question I always ask myself is … what would Jesus do?

And what Jesus would do is—eat the guinea pig!

Want proof? Check out this 1753 painting by Marcos Zapata from the Cathedral of Cuzco showing Christ and the Apostles about to dig into some cuy. And if it’s good enough for them, it’s good enough for me.

I ended up eating cuy four times over the course of our week in Peru. Which restaurant prepared it the best? You’ll find that out below. (more…)

Back in January, on New Year’s Day, I cooked my first goose, and as another holiday season approached, I wanted to whip up some other sort of feast that was just as special, but also one that took me into new culinary territory. I chose suckling pig … the purchasing of which proved to be far more difficult than I’d at first imagined.

I figured I’d be able to buy one easily—don’t lots of folks serve them around Christmas?—but not a single butcher in my area carried them. And they couldn’t even recommend a local farmer who’d sell me one either. So I ran over to A & H Gourmet and Seafood Market in Bethesda—where I couldn’t resist buying those quail I told you about last week. I was looking for a 9-12 pound pig, but when I arrived, all they had was one that weighed 17.5 pounds. No big deal, I thought. I figured we’d have no problem eating that much pork.

But there was a secondary issue I hadn’t considered until after I got the beast home …

The frozen suckling pig was 24″ long, as you can see via the yardstick above, and we could easily store it in my basement freezer until I was ready. But I realized that not only is my refrigerator just 18″ wide, my oven is only slightly larger, at 22″ wide! (more…)

I always figured that the first time I ate quail, it would happen because I’d spotted it on the menu at a restaurant I trusted to do the tiny things up right. Instead, my first time came about because while I was at A & H Seafood buying a suckling pig to cook for Christmas dinner, I peeked into their freezer and spotted packages of frozen quail. And since I’m not one to pass up the opportunity for a new culinary experience, I picked up two packages.

Why not just one? If you have to ask, you must not know me very well.

Each package contained six quail, and they weren’t very impressive when frozen. Squashed together as they were, they looked like nothing more than a solid lump of frozen meat, giving no sense of what they once were.

But after a few days of thawing, each quail—weighing in at about 4.66 ounces, if the gross weight of the package can be trusted—because a bird again. And looked kind of cute, if you ask me.

I plucked a recipe from my all-time favorite cookbook—James Beard’s American Cookery, which is so well-written that it’s worth reading even if you have no intention of ever cooking anything.

I chose the simplest recipe, not because I wasn’t up to a challenge, but because I wanted to taste the quail meat itself as purely as possible, unmasked by too heavy a sauce or too flavorful a spice. So after some butter, salt, pepper, and little else, plus 20 minutes in a 450-degree oven, here’s what I ended up with. (more…)

I had a 10:30 appointment yesterday over in Maryland to meet with—well, never you mind—and unfortunately, a rock slide prevented me from getting there in time. Oh, don’t worry, no Harpers Ferry boulders got me! But a tractor trailer wasn’t so lucky. It apparently swerved to avoid a rock slide and went through a guardrail on Route 340 near Harpers Ferry between the Potomac River bridge and the Shenandoah River bridge—cutting me off from getting over to Maryland.

I was at a dead stop for more than 90 minutes. When the rubble was cleared, traffic finally started moving again, and I caught up with the scene of the crash, here’s what I saw.

I’d have slowed for better video, but I had an idea that neither the police nor the frustrated drivers behind me would have been happy about that!

I arrived in Maryland MUCH later than I should have … but that’s a whole ‘nother story.

After taking care of business (or rather, learning that I’d arrived much too late to properly take care of business), I decided to try out Kraze Burgers, a Korean hamburger chain which had just opened its first location in the U.S., a fact I’d learned from a recent article in the Huffington Post. I was wondering how it would compare to Reno’s Awful Awful burgers or my all-time favorite, the Thurman burger. (more…)

An ad for Acme Supermarkets (where I guess Wile E. Coyote used to buy all his hunting gear) in the February 10, 1955 issue of the Washington, D.C. Evening Star hints that the ducks the company sells are treated like veal.

According to the ad, “swimming (as well as flying) develops stringy muscles, and Acme wants none of that.”

No wonder that bathing suit is hanging on a tree branch. The duck isn’t allowed to wear it.

I suddenly feel very sad for that duck.

I shared my favorite Worldcon moments the other day, but I know what you foodies out there really wanted to hear about was which casino in Reno made the best Awful Awful.

What’s an Awful Awful? A humongous burger that’s been made by two competing casinos in Reno since back before the Big Mac existed.

As those of you who attend conventions with me know, I get most of my food tips from the TV show Man v. Food, but since Adam Richman has yet to hit Reno, I had to instead base my excursions out of the convention center on the show Food Wars. Here’s the recent episode of that latter show that alerted me to the existence of these legendary burgers.

Before I get into the burgers themselves, check out how the two joints tout them with posters inside their casinos. On the left, The Little Nugget, and on the right, John Ascuaga’s Nugget.

But posters are one thing. Let’s see what the real thing looks like. (more…)

Until yesterday, I was a goose virgin. Even though I’ve eaten some pretty peculiar things over the years—including guinea pig—I’d never eaten goose before, and I’d certainly never cooked one. But it occupies a romantic place in my imagination. Perhaps because I’ve read too much Dickens?

So this year, when I spotted a goose at my supermarket, I thought—it’s about time. I bought it and then waited until yesterday to cook it for our New Year’s Day feast.

I put out a call online for goose recipes, and the one that intrigued me the most came from David Shaw, who recommended multiple approaches. What caught my eye was the Spiced Roast Goose with Dried-Fruit Pan Sauce. I think it was the fig, apricot, and prune stuffing that tempted me more than anything else.

Here’s what the goose looked liked before the cooking began.

What I hadn’t realized when embarking upon cooking a goose was how labor intensive the process was. Oh, prepping it for the oven was comparatively fast and easy, but a goose gives off so much fat that I was required to check on it every thirty minutes to skim off the excess to a) reserve it for later use, and b) make sure the oven didn’t burst into flame. Unlike other types of roasts, which can be fairly effortless save for occasional basting, the goose required my constant attention.

But it was worth it. Here’s what the bird looked like about four hours after it went into the oven.

Those skewers tucked under its wings contain the figs, apricots, and prunes that didn’t fit inside the bird.

I had another helping of goose for lunch today, and will probably do the same for dinner and then lunch tomorrow. I can’t see cooking a goose often, both due to the cost and the effort, but next time Christmas and New Year’s rolls around, I could see trying again.

Though come to think of it … there’s always a suckling pig.

I’m way behind in reading Publishers Weekly, which will explain why I’ve only just now come across something intriguing from the September 28th issue. In a profile of Daniel Goldin, owner of Boswell Books, Goldin quotes from the book Setting the Table: The Transforming Power of Hospitality in Business, by restaurateur Danny Meyer.

Goldin shares how Meyer responded when asked what principle guided him as a new small business owner. He supposedly said, “I don’t want to be the best restaurant. I want to be the customer’s favorite restaurant.”

When I first read that passage, I liked it. But once it started to sink it, I didn’t like at all.

Why?

Because I think an important clause is missing.

I might have accepted the quote if it had been instead written as, “I don’t want to be the best restaurant. I want to be the customer’s favorite restaurant as long as I can do so while staying true to myself.” Perhaps I’m supposed to take that as implied, but without reading the book from which the quote was plucked, I can’t be sure.

I’ve often said that I’d rather be hated for what I am than loved for what I am not. And that’s as true for my fiction as it is for any other other aspect of my personality. Sure, I’d love to be your favorite writer—but I need to be my own favorite writer first. If I have to like me any less in order to make you like me any more … well … it’s not going to happen.

It isn’t that I want my words to be disliked by anyone. It’s just that the most important thing is to be (to disagree with the first sentence from the Meyer quote) the best me I can be. If you end up liking my stories, too, that’s gravy for which I’m sincerely grateful. But as far as I’m concerned, Meyer’s second sentence will never trump his first.

I do want to be the best restaurant.