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The Chasing Taste Blog
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The Down Home Taster vs. The Ghost Pepper Love freely, eat slowly and ride a horse now and then,
The Down Home Taster
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"Strong and Mild- like a Bricklayer playin' bridge...." Love freely, eat slowly and ride a horse now and then,
The Down Home Taster The Down Home Taster enjoys the company of the Queen of the Rodeo. Love freely, eat slowly and ride a horse now and then,
The Down Home Taster  Waiting is one of the hardest things a person can do. I’ve been on the hook for a possible big deal, life-changing job opportunity for literally months. The powers that be assure me that my name is on the “list” as a could-be-candidate. For the first month or so, this was quite fun, actually. What’s not to like about a life-changing money deal? But now five months down the pike, as each day clicks by, I feel myself growing increasingly weary. By this afternoon, I was so bogged down by it all; I took myself down to the lower east side for a spur of the moment comfort food eating tour. It may sound strange, but my “go-to” comfort food is borscht. And the hands down best borscht in New York City is at Veselka. Operating for the last 61 years and located at 144 2nd Avenue, this Ukrainian foodie hot spot makes 5,000 gallons of borscht a year. (So, I’m not the only one guzzling this stuff down!) The chatter of happy eaters greeted me as I slid into my seat. A waiter walked by with an armload of meatless stuffed cabbage, potato pancakes and a small plate of pierogi. What’s not to like about latkes? I ordered and then compulsively looked at my phone; still no message. And still the same holding pattern I was in ten minutes ago. My soup came and with a heavy heart, I lifted my spoon and took a chunky bite of lovely. Did I mention that the broth is made from a combo of beef and pork? The flavors of the carrots, celery, potatoes and lima beans hit my T-buds, bringing me into the moment and the wonder, the absolute miracle of this recipe. Three slurps in, I was on my way to feeling whole again. I flagged down the waiter and ordered a plate of kielbasa. Here’s the thing, I may or may not get that upward mobile big deal dealio. And I can’t really put “I waited well” on my resume. But I can be kind to myself by having one of the best tastes I’ve ever tasted while I wait. Waiting is hard. Tasting is easy. And Veselka’s borscht is first-rate great! Love freely, eat slowly and ride a horse now and then,
The Down Home Taster  Let’s start from the end and work back to the beginning. She was that one regret that I couldn’t quite shake from my memory, that question mark on lonely nights. Mara. It was a misty New York night when we literally bumped back into each other on the corner of 8th Avenue and West 51st Street. As the mist turned towards out and out rain, we took refuge in Vice Versa, a nearby Italian Restaurant. I should’ve remembered why this romance would never work when, ignoring the rather fabulous menu, she requested a dressing-less bowl of arugula. Meanwhile, as we caught up, I feasted on the Casoncelli Alla Bergamasca. (Roasted veal, amaretti cookies, raisin filled Casoncelli seasoned with Grana Padano cheese, sage and pancetta! Seriously, this dish is the stuff of sonnets.) In all fairness, things seemed connected and off to a good re-start with Mara. Until, the dessert arrived, that is. Mara had leaned in rather close and she was using words like “destiny” and “future” when my dessert arrived. I do sometimes ask myself, “What if I’d been less of a foodie on that misty night when Mara blurted out “I love you?” Problem was, I’d just taken my first bite of the warm Vice Versa chocolate cake. And to say that my taste buds were having a mouth party is an understatement. Perfection comes in fits and starts. So, when it arrives, one must take note. And boy was I! I tasted the moist cake, felt its warm dark chocolate sauce slide down, delighting and soothing the back of my throat. I was in a certain sort of heaven, which is why I was completely surprised when around my third bite, I looked up to see Mara collecting her sweater and purse. “Did I miss something?” “I just told you ‘I love you,’” she said. “I’m sorry.” I replied, trying to explain the impact and excellence of this beyond delicious cake. Mara, however, was strictly a salad eater. So, my cake talk fell flat. She left, sending a spoon clattering as she bumped a nearby table. I smiled awkwardly at Franco, one of the owners. I was, of course, tempted to chase her down the street, but the thought of not finishing my dessert felt like the bigger crime. Now, countless Vice Versa cakes later, I know I made the right choice. Some loves are forever and some simply don’t have the right ingredients. Love freely, eat slowly and ride a horse now and then,
The Down Home Taster Oak Creek Brewery and Simon Hot Dogs, AZ: Yee-doggy, those dogs are dingetty-dang-dang-good!2/28/2015  She rolled down the window of her red Ford truck and simply said, ”My feelings have changed.” I was dumbfounded because just this morning over a bowl of un-noteworthy oatmeal, she had vowed her undying love. I stood on the curb watching her truck fade into my distance. I’d just met and lost the love of my life. It was a long shot from the start. I knew that. She’s a goat farmer. I’m a cattle ranchin’ word wrangler. And as the great musical Oklahoma posits, “The cowman and the farmer should be friends.” But as my recent life experience shows, that doesn’t mean that they always are. My horse Big Blue nuzzled my head, knocking some sense back into me. “You’re right, Blue. You’re right. I feel like crap, but all will still, somehow be well.” A little lost and out-of-sorts, I hopped on Blue and rode around town looking for comfort. The classic rock song “Hey Joe” played in the distance. We followed the sound and found our way to Oak Creek Brewery and Simon Hot Dogs. Now, tastes for me are like friends, really chatty, unforgettable friends. And in no time flat, I made three new ones: Colombian, Tokyo Madness and Loka Brat; each hot dog an experience of comfort and hospitality. I started with the Loka Brat. I’m a sucker for sauerkraut and spicy mustard. But the addition of the jalapeños made this brat my new BFF. The Colombian Hot Dog juxtaposes salt and sweet, topped with mozzarella cheese and served with crispy pineapple and crushed potato chips. The pineapple acts like a relish, And believe me this dog is to be relished! Feeling increasingly better, I moved onto Tokyo Madness This hot dog with its teriyaki onions and wasabi mayo ways took my mouth out dancing and left me sorry I was full. By this point the band was playing “Stairway to Heaven.” So, I got on Big Blue and headed east. The red rocks of Sedona reminding me that life is to be lived and chances are there for the taking. Look, you might be lucky in love, but hungry. You might be lonely and hungry. You might be hankering for greatness. If so, take my advice and find your way to Oak Creek Brewery and Simon Hot Dogs in Sedona. (If you’re in Ohio reading this right now, I mean it, get in your car and start driving.) Questions, of course, remain. If I had the chance to fall in love with that red-haired cutie again, would I? I don’t know. I’d like to think I would. Even when love doesn’t work out, loving someone is never a bad idea, at least not in my book. The real question though is, would I travel across the United States for a Simon hot dog? Absolutely! Yee-doggy, those dogs are dingetty-dang-dang-good! Love freely, eat slowly and ride a horse now and then,
The Down Home Taster  The red rocks of Sedona…how can I explain these massive layers of sandstone and limestone? Everywhere I look I am struck by beauty beyond measure. The subtle energy forces emanating from these vortexes have realigned my soul and strangely enough made me seriously hungry. At the risk of being a one trick pony, I ask my date if it’s too much to have pizza two dates in a row? She laughs this full-throated laugh as she pulls me close. I’ll take the sudden kiss as a yes to pizza. We’re in the throes of new love so we take a walk towards the Hideaway House. Three bites into my slice, I realize momentary perfection is possible. Before I go any further, I’ll just come out and say it, “Get used to the idea of peach being a part of your pizza repertoire.” First off, let’s talk crust. Crispy on the outside, supple in the center it’s like naan bread only better because it’s topped with fresh ricotta, basil, and prosciutto… Then just to blow your pea pickin’ mind they throw on some caramelized peach. Like I said, beauty makes a body hungry. So, I ordered some lasagna with a side of spaghetti and meatballs. The owners Laura and Steve grind sausage, pork tenderloin, meatballs into a Bolognese that’s so good it made me cry…on the inside. Then, as if life couldn’t get better, our waitress, Shannon, brought us over a helping of strawberry lemonade sorbet; which was basically a bowl of lemony, gooey goodness. After our meal, I pulled Lisa close - certain that the red rocks of Sedona, that perfectly balanced peach pizza, and this red-haired woman by the name of Lisa have gone and changed me forever. Love freely, eat slowly and ride a horse now and then, The Down Home Taster  So, I’m on a first date with a woman I’ve loved my entire life…even though we just met. Does she know that every time she touches my arm, I feel like I did the first time I saw Little Yellow Jacket at the rodeo. For those of you who don’t know LYJ is a three-time World Champion Bull, Y’all. I’ll never forget that feeling as I held on for dear life, my body flappin’ like a flag in the wind and my heart goin’ about two hundred beats a minute. Little Yellow Jacket bucked me off faster than you can say fast, but oh what a beautiful ride. The sheer thrill that came before that hard, hard fall. Where was I? Oh right, on a date…I want to impress her, but I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard. Her name’s Lisa, by the way. So what better place to take her than Pisa Lisa in good ol’ Sedona, Arizona? We start with a Cesar salad. This might sound simple, but I’ve had more mundane Cesar’s than I can recount. This one…with its creamy lemon, caper dressing…unforgettable. My date is making “mmm” sounds so we’re off to a solid start. From there, we head towards pizza. Coming from New York where pizza reigns, this is a real test. Wanting comfort, I order Da Bambini because to my knowledge pepperoni has literally never hurt anybody. All my anxiety giving way to a feeling of “all is well” as I take in the taste of provolone, mozzarella and a tomato sauce that would give John’s Pizza on Bleeker Street a run for their money. She orders the Passionista. This shouldn’t surprise me. Like her it’s a combination of wild, sweet deliciousness with its paper- thin crust, caramelized onions, fig jam, walnuts, Gorgonzola-chevre cheese and balsamic reduction. She offers me a slice her hand lightly resting on my forearm. And all I can think is “Please let this woman kiss this here rodeo clown at some point tonight…” Love freely, eat slowly and ride a horse now and then, The Down Home Taster  Have I told you lately that I love you? That’s the first thing I said to her. I’m amazed I could even speak. For the sight of her took my breath away. And yet we came from opposite sides of the tracks; animal tracks, that is. I was a cowboy trekking through cow chips. And she refined and all lady-like, regularly sashayed her way through goat berries. And yet, my love for her was instant and overwhelming. How to bridge the distance and mind the gap? I pondered my dilemma and heartache as I took a seat at The Heartline Café. In her honor, I started out with the goat cheese tart; roasted garlic, marinated mushrooms. Just like her, what’s not to like about this combo? For kicks, I had a bowl of roasted butternut squash, pear soup. With its hint of cinnamon, it was like Thanksgiving in a bowl, and boy was I grateful I ate it. Who would think to put squash and pear together? And yet the tastes were magical. In my penultimate eating move, I ordered the mesquite crusted lamb chop. It transported me to the many nights I’d sat staring into the campfire, wondering would I ever find love? It tasted like truth and life. Can one tender, juicy bite of meat do that, be all that? Yes, yes it can and yes it did. Sitting at the Heartline, I got my head on straight. And the truth was, my life was a hollow shell without her, a tumble weed on its way to nowhere. I gazed out at the sunny Sedona day, picked up my cell phone, cleared my throat and made a phone call to a certain goat farmer. Love freely, eat slowly and ride a horse now and then, The Down Home Taster  After four months of relentless freezer temps in New York, I’d become a bit arctic of soul. I’d also been a bit blue since my horse Big Blue went missing. Now knowing Blue, I knew two things: that horse ain’t no jack ass and she hates cold weather. So, I figured the sound of taxis in Times Square musta sent her on a quest for warmer climes. I hopped on a plane and headed west, hoping to find Blue sunbathing in Sedona. So, why is my life suddenly a better place? Here’s how: mouth watering grits, biscuits with the steam still coming off of them and omelette #33. Not many places can claim the name “Home of 101 Omelettes,” but The Coffee Pot in Sedona, Arizona can! Was it the green chili that set my taste buds to dancing, the unforgettable bacon? All I know is, I’m sitting here sipping a cup of freshly ground coffee, my horse Blue by my side feeling outright yeehaw-happy. Love freely, eat slowly and ride a horse now and then,
The Down Home Taster |
AuthorLori Fischer, screenwriter of Chasing Taste. |
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