Miami Food Blog

Photo by Riki Altman

Where my Oreos at?

​Last night, the monster magnet lodged at the end of my shopping cart dragged me, yet again, directly to the cookie aisle. I gazed in awe at the vast selection that lined the shelves, wondering where my favorite cookie jar filler could be found. Panic overrode the incessant drooling when I realized the ugly truth: Oreos have morphed into so many incarnations that I could hardly recognize the original.

Isn't it fair to say a brand can only stray so far away from its roots if it wants to keep its audience loyal?

It was then I started to question what exactly an Oreo is. One envisions a small, round, triple-tiered treat: two crisp, dark-colored chocolate cookies with a layer of cream inside. This center layer should be visible from the side and should match the cookie's circumference.

We celebrate our post-Easter holiday around here with a ritual: our annual Peeps Stations of the Cross, Peeps Crucifixion, and Peeps Heresy Trials. What is it about those little yellow, blue, pink, and purple marshmallow chickies that makes you wanna do nasty things to them? Why are there always so many leftover Peeps once the holiday has safely passed, just begging to be tortured? Are they really, as CNN reported, indestructible? 

For Peeps: The End of Times

Evidently the folks at Serious Eats are of the same mind, because they've posted a recipe for S'meeps in their latest issue (S'mores, made with Peeps). Shoving the Peeps into a toaster oven with chocolate and graham crackers might not be quite as much fun as affixing them to a burning cross or tossing them into the toilet bowl weighted with stones to see if they float (we've discovered through this experiment that many Peeps are in fact witches), but they sure look like they taste pretty good.

And we're not the only ones who go homicidal at the thought of leftover peeps. Check out laughing squid's Peepflagration here.

Psssst....Drink Me!

It isn't often that we New Timesers get a bottle of $200 whiskey in the mail. We did, not long ago, thanks to the folks at Canadian Club, which is celebrating its 150th anniversary this year with the release of a primo 30-year-old, 80-proof, white-oak-barrel-aged blended whiskey retailing for a cool two bills. That's priced well beyond the reach of even the most profligate New Times lushes; our admin assistant was obliged to hide the booze behind her desk, well beyond the reach of  sticky fingers, until we could get around to a proper tasting.

But at a recent staff meeting, we broke into the bottle, or at least Bob Norman did; Norman was so physically agitated by the sight of that black box with its fancy closure and the gold CC logo just sitting there that we had to wrestle it away from him just to snap the picture at left. In Norman's good opinion, whiskey is made to be drunk, not fondled and stared at. I guess old Hiram Walker would second that, and so would Don Draper, who drinks Canadian Club on the show Mad Men.

Hey Bob, over here!

Norman and the rest of our high-macho crew also pooh-poohed the notion that a splash of H20 added to this fine old brew would "open it up." They poured liberal shots and drank it straight. Over on the femme-gay side of the table, we added a little water and found the instruction sound: Give your whiskey a splash and it evens out the last edges, so your drink gives up its perfumes and complexities.

But both girls and boys agreed: This was the best whiskey we'd  tasted since that bottle of 30-year-old single-malt McCallam we drank back in '85. It's excessively smooth, sweet, and buttery, with a finish that lasts and lasts: a bit of oak (but not too much), a hint of butterscotch, something floral, like violets. And it leaves a serious afterglow: Once we'd polished off 3/4 of the bottle, you could say our staff meeting got right lively.

I conducted a blind tasting at home with the bit of drink I had left, lining up the 30-year-old CC against a 10-year-old Canadian Club reserve (retail around $30)  and a glass of Glenfiddich 12-year-old single malt (retail around $25). The 30-year-old cleaned their clocks in taste, fragrance, and finish -- it tasted almost like a good cognac. The CC 10 was close in color -- a rich, deep amber -- but was slightly more bitter and ragged when sipped. Both CCs are definitively better with about 3 tablespoons of water added. Glenfiddich doesn't improve at all with water, and it's really a different animal: lighter in color and fruitier.

Final report: Only 3,000 bottles of the 30-year CC were produced, and it's hard to find at this point (try ordering it here.) It would definitely be worth both the search and the price as a gift for a whiskey connoisseur, but I wouldn't waste it on anybody else: In their cups, most people wouldn't have the patience to dig for esoteric flavors or even care much about how smooth it is. And as a side note, I totally dig CC's new advertising campaign: "Your Mom Wasn't Your Dad's First," and would only like to add that he wasn't hers either, you chump.

But I actually prefer this slightly altered version of the ad:

Champagne and chocolates constitute the dynamic duo of no-brainers for Valentine's Day. Peterbrooke Chocolatier at 227 Aragon Ave. in Coral Gables has come up with a novel way to team the two: A chocolate-dipped champagne bottle. Now through February 14, customers can bring in their favorite bubbly -- or wine (and maybe beer too, in case you've got a wild one on your hands) -- and have it covered in food-grade wrap,  dipped in gourmet dark, milk or white chocolate blends, and decorated (as in the photo). The cost is $18 per bottle.

Peterbrooke is likewise offering interactive classes for  "chocolatiers that want to dip and decorate themselves!"  Kinky fun, baby!  Oh no, sorry -- what they mean is that classes are for those who want to dip and decorate the bottles themselves. Classes for doing so will be held Wednesday, February 11 through Friday, February 13 at 6 p.m. and 8 p.m., and on Saturday, February 14 at 2 p.m. The cost is $25 per person, and students must bring their own bottle of wine or champagne. Classes are limited to six students each, and reservations are required. Call 305-446-3131.

Courtesy of Lola's Cupcakery

As far as desserts go, what's better than a cupcake? Think about it: these morsels of goodness are self-contained, portable, portion-controlled, and, when done right, can taste pretty swell. And now, they're showing up on Las Olas. Lola's Cupcakery is a new venture from Toronto restaurateur, Donald Kaplan, and his wife Laura (she's the "Lola"). The pair wanted to bring high-end cupcakes to an area that really has none, and their new storefront at 1523 E. Las Olas Blvd. will do just that. The store opens this weekend, and, as of now, will be take-out only. (The Kaplans have already applied for a change of use permit to allow in-store cupcaking.) Lola's will also deliver for orders of two dozen or more to just about anywhere in Broward, to the tune of $82 (a single cupcake runs $3.25).

Here's one for my "Oh for fuck's sake!" files:

They'll have it their way.

If you've somehow missed Burger King's hilarious terrible! absolutely terrible! new marketing campaign, where they bring Whoppers to Hmong villagers in remote Thailand, the Inuit of Greenland, and a Transylvanian town in Romania, you have to check this out. Although the campaign generates a seriously sinking feeling (it's only a matter of time before these folks and their descendants give up hand-embroidering their clothing and turn to playing Wii), the ironies abound. For one thing, the Whopper doesn't look like recognizable food, so people have no idea how to eat it. And it doesn't taste nearly as good as seal meat. But we already knew that.

Until I saw Milk yesterday, the biopic starring Sean Penn as gay activist and San Francisco city supervisor Harvey Milk, I'd forgotten all about the Twinkie Defense. Fellow supervisor Dan White shot and killed Milk and Mayor George Moscone in their offices at San Francisco City Hall in 1978 and got off with essentially a slap on the wrist: White was found guilty of manslaughter and sentenced to eight years (he ended up serving five, and committed suicide two years after he was released.) The defense argued that White was chronically depressed; they also argued, as a small aside, that his bipolar disorder wasn't helped by a steady diet of Cokes, HoHos, and DingDongs (Twinkies, apparently, were never mentioned.)

Deep frying a turkey can destroy your home, kill your neighbors, and ruin your life. It happened to a friend of mine. This was in Chicago, some years back. He turned on his heating element -- something red and dangerous looking, made by a company with a Japanese sounding name -- and filled a little metal barrel with oil. The oil sat over the top of the little flame, and soon it was gurgling around and looking mean. But it was alright until he stuck the bird in. Then, the oil seemed to explode from the top of the barrell, running down its sides and all over the heating element below. Suddenly, the fire was snaking through the yard, running everywhere faster than we could think to extinguish it, feasting on the dead autumn flora and blazing in a beeline straight for the barn of his neighbor, Mrs. O'Leary, where she kept her favorite cow.

Things went poorly for my friend after that, which is why I'm telling you: don't deep fry your own turkey, delicious as the idea might sound. Let Lulu's Bait Shack do it for you. They're at Beach Place in Fort Lauderdale. So, Lulu's fried turkey: you get all the fixings, or "fixins," as they say, for only $59.95, and you can get the bird a la carte for $39.95. Click on through for the contact info.

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-- Brandon Thorp

I just love ethics questions, and lucky for me, there's an unending supply of morality dramas in the food biz. Like, for instance, is it ethical to put "grouper" on your menu when all you've got in the deep freezer is panga or swai, as dozens of restaurants in South Florida have been doing? (thanks for the tips, Channel 10 and Menu Pages). For example, we received a letter this week from a reader curious why a certain Deerfield restaurant was always packed with police and firefighters, to whit:

Tis the season, so I thought I'd share my own recipe for deep fried tarantula, in case anybody out there wants to serve them at tomorrow night's Halloween party. Usually I try to allocate one tarantula per guest, so you'll have to adjust the recipe depending on how many diners you're serving. It's actually amazingly easy to prepare, and the live spiders can be frozen until you're ready to use them (note to animal rights' activists -- freezing is a painless and humane death). Tarantulas can be purchased from many pet stores -- Pet Supermarket and Mark's Ark in Lake Worth usually have them.

Gail's Crispy Tarantulas
serves six

6 live or frozen tarantulas
1 tbs coarse sea salt
1 tsp Spanish style smoked paprika -- hot or sweet
1 tsp brown sugar
2 cloves fresh garlic
3 cups peanut oil

Combine paprika, MSG, sugar, and salt in a large bowl (an aquarium works well if the spiders are still alive). Toss spiders in the mixture, or sprinkle it over them and let them walk around in it for awhile until they're thoroughly coated --the spice mixture will get caught in their little hairs.

Meanwhile, heat peanut oil in large pot or wok until just below the smoking point. Add garlic (be careful not to burn it). When oil is ready toss spiders into the pot as quickly as possible and cook for 4 to 5 minutes until they are golden and the legs are crispy. To test for doneness: Legs should be crackly, interior of head the consistency of white chicken, and abdomen just slightly runny.

Serve on individual plates with a wedge of lemon. If you'd like them to taste a bit more authentic, or Cambodian style, substitute MSG for the Spanish paprika. Here's how they look in Phenom Pen:

Booooo-n Appetite!

-- Gail Shepherd

Question:
What yummy treat from a national ice cream chain contains this delectable list of ingredients?

Ingredients: reduced fat milk, heath bar crunch ice cream (cream, nonfat milk, caramel ribbon (corn syrup, sweetened condensed whole milk (milk, sugar), water, high fructose corn syrup, butter (cream, salt), propylene glycol, sodium alginate, salt, natural and artificial vanilla flavors, potassium sorbate (preservative), soy lecithin, annatto color, sodium bicarbonate, propyl paraben (preservative)) , heath® bar candy pieces [milk chocolate (sugar, cocoa butter, chocolate, nonfat milk, milk fat, lactose, soy lecithin (an emulsifier), salt, and vanillin (an artificial flavoring)), sugar, palm oil, dairy butter (milk), almonds, salt, artificial flavoring, and soy lecithin], sugar, corn syrup, toffee base (sweetened condensed whole milk, high fructose corn syrup, corn syrup, water, natural flavor, disodium phosphate, and salt), whey powder, cellulose gum, mono and diglycerides, guar gum, carrageenan, polysorbate 80), fudge topping (corn syrup, sugar, water, hydrogenated coconut oil, nonfat milk, cocoa (treated with alkali), modified corn starch, salt, sodium bicarbonate, disodium phosphate, potassium sorbate (a preservative), natural and artificial flavors, soy lecithin), jamoca ice cream (cream, nonfat milk, sugar, corn syrup, jamoca extract (coffee extract, sugar, potassium sorbate and methyl paraben (as preservatives)) whey, caramel color, cellulose gum, mono and diglycerides, carrageenan, polysorbate 80, carob bean gum, guar gum), caramel praline topping (corn syrup, sweetened condensed whole mil, water, sugar, modified food starch, butter, salt, propylene glycol, natural and artificial flavor, sodium citrate, xanthan gum, lecithin, potassium sorbate and propyl paraben as preservatives), hershey’s® heath® milk chocolate english toffee (milk chocolate (sugar, cocoa butter, chocolate, nonfat milk, milk fat, lactose, soy lecithin [an emulsifier], salt, and vanillin [an artificial flavoring]), sugar, palm oil, dairy butter (milk), almonds, salt, artificial flavoring, and soy lecithin), whipped cream (whipped cream (cream, milk, sugar, dextrose, nonfat dry milk, artificial flavor, mono & diglycerides, carrageenan, mixed tocopherols (vitamin e), to protect flavor, propellant: nitrous oxide).

You'd be right if you guessed that magical list is what goes into a Large Heath Shake from Baskin-Robbins. But that's hardly the worst of it. Consumerist.com recently reported that a large Heath shake also contains 2310 calories, just slightly more than than daily calorie recommendation for an average sized woman, like me.

For a minute after reading this news I actually considered trekking down to my local B&R to order one, for the sake of journalistic research, especially since BR is offering a Buy One Get One (BOGO) deal on their frozen beverages this fall ("Parents looking for low-cost family fun need look no further than Baskin-Robbins, which offers a wide variety of treats for under $5." reads the PR.) But when I got to the fat content (64 grams of saturated fat, which is 320 percent of the daily recommended intake) and the 295 milligrams of cholesterol (98 percent) or the fact that the thing contains a half pound of sugar, I just couldn't bring myself to conduct the experiment.

The consumerist does raise a good question in their report: Is this monstrosity really necessary? Yeah, we can all take responsibility for our choices, but why does this particular choice even need to be on the map?

-- Gail Shepherd

A friend of mine brought me a bagful of Russian candy from Brighton Beach, and after tasting it I've decided I'm going to save it for the Halloween trick or treaters. I never have candy to give away on Halloween, and I find myself more often than not cowering in a darkened bedroom as the knocks on my front door become ever more violent. They know I'm home, don't they?

Well this year the little bastards are in for a REAL surprise. I particularly like the one called Kapa-Kym, with the camels on the wrapper -- what do you suppose the neighborhood mommies are going to make of THAT?

One could only wish they came in flavors like "borscht" or "coal," but alas, they just taste like really stale, cheaply manufactured artificially flavored corn oil.

And just in case you forgot that there's a Youtube video on every conceivable subject:

-- Gail Shepherd

The Florida Spiny Lobster is walking, thanks to the recent hurricanes that passed through the Keys. Our Keys lobsters are taking a mass holiday and sauntering up the coast close to shore -- they're expected to reach Miami today and Palm Beach tomorrow. Intrepid foodies, pull out those lobster gloves and nets, because grabbing our favorite decapod is going to be like shooting fish in a barrel -- a Lantana fisherman told me last night we should be able to practically wade out from shore to grab our dinner. But don't get greedy: the legal take is 6 lobsters per person.

-- Gail Shepherd