which came first?...

Today, in celebration of Easter, I will touch on a food that comes in a small package but packs a lot of powerful benefits. The Egg.

 The egg is one of the most diverse ingredients on the grocery list today. It provides a great protein, it can be served with any course at any meal and it can be mixed with pretty much any flavor profile.

This little guy has caught a lot of flack for being a bad additive to an otherwise healthy diet. A study done by the Physicians' Health Study I once tried to prove a link between the consumption of eggs and type 2 Diabetes. A later study proved that there was no link between them at all. As a matter of fact, cleanly prepared eggs are great for both types of Diabetics since they do have so much protein, which really helps insulin to do its thang.
Other studies have tried to prove that the yolk of the egg, the fattiest part, lead to heart risk with an increase of cholesterol. But the Greeks had it right when they lived by the rule of moderation. An egg a day isn't even enough to clog the arteries.  
Mama says: A diet that includes a small amount of cholesterol is actually very good for you. And she's right! Cholesterol can be dangerous in large doses, but it promotes brain functionality, provides fat to make other foods last longer in the system and gives substance to your diet.

I just don't like the taste of yolks, so I stick to the whites and get my fats from elsewhere.

Of course, when I speak of eggs, I'm talking mainly about chicken eggs. But there are a number of other types of embryos that are considered not only edible, but a delicacy all over the globe. I've actually tried the egg of quail (something about me and quails...). And hope to one day try other fowl such as goose, duck, pheasant,  emu or even ostrich, which provide people from coast to coast and across the pond with gourmet omelets. And if your pocketbook allows, you might even find yourself dining on the salty gel beads that is caviar. I'm not so sure if or when I'll ever be moved to try fish eggs.
For now, I'll stick to egg tacos.  
Chicken egg tacos.

I don't know many people who don't enjoy eggs in some form or fashion, but chances are if you don't like eggs, you haven't had them in all of the many ways they can be prepared. Besides being important ingredients in baking and as washes or batters, the great thing about eggs is that they can be the star of their own show...

Baked (Shirred) Eggs
 - In France, this basic methods of baked eggs is called oeufs en cocotte.

Boiling Eggs
 - A good tip to avoiding the Green Ring of Death (which really doesn't effect the taste of or harm the egg... it's just ugly) is to make sure not to over cook the eggs, and shock it in a cold water bath after boiling. Sometimes you can't avoid the green ring because it also has to do with the iron and sulfur content.

Coddled Eggs
 - Coddled eggs are made by very briefly immersing an egg in the shell in boiling water (to cook in water just below the boiling point) to slightly cook or coddle them.

Deviled Eggs
 - Deviled eggs have their roots in ancient Roman recipes with the first published recipes for stuffed, boiled eggs were from medieval Europe. In the 17th century, this was a common way to prepare eggs. they were not called "deviled" until the 18th Century, in England.

Fried Eggs - A French technique that very slowly cooks the eggs in butter.

Poached Eggs
 - The best eggs for poaching are the freshest eggs you can find. If eggs are more than a week old, the whites thin out. Whites of fresh eggs will gather compactly around the yolk, making a rounder, neater shape. A tip to keep the egg from freaking out in the pot is to add vinegar.

Scrambled Eggs/Omelets - Scrambled eggs make a delicious and quick meal, but there is a little science to getting them just right. The secret to successfully scrambling eggs is slow cooking (you need low, gentle heat).

These are pretty standard breakfast recipes; the most common of them all. I found not only these, but a bad ass list of different and very interesting recipes featuring the mighty egg at whatscookingamerica.net. They took eggs to a level that I knew was possible, but had never really taken a second look at. Poke around the site's recipes. there were way too many good ones to list them all here.

This entry is dedicated The Mud Egg - even though you get a lot of attention every year, you will always be the ugliest egg.

-k

et toi deux

Welcome back, Viewers.
Last time on Eat Your Plate, our hero(s) embarked on a culinary mission in the grand city of New Orleans. Today we pick up where we left off - Jacques-Imo's.

Now, when Dad was describing Jacques-Imo's to Kyle and me, I was sitting there thinking '...man, it's a shame we won't be going there while we're here... this place sounds really cool...' Then it turned out that this was the place he'd intended on taking us all along. He told us about the course procedure while we were at breakfast at Huevos New Orleans; and even as I was chowing down, I was drooling over this restaurant.

If you don't get to Jacques-Imo's before about 5:30 for dinner, you're going to be on the waiting list for at least an hour. Luckily, though, there's a bar called the Maple Leaf right next door where you can chill and sometimes catch a little bit of a show before your meal. The two establishments have absolutely nothing to do with one another, but if you know that you're going to be waiting, you can let the hostess know that you'll be next door and when it's time for you to be seated they actually send someone over to fetch you. It's a nice little "if you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours" hand-off.

You can instantly start to recognize the hip atmosphere of the joint, not only for the number of people spilling out of the front door and onto the sidewalk, but by the very first table the restaurant has to offer. The most romantic seat... erm... out of the house. It's a little 2 person table that sits in the flatbed of a beat-down, decorated pick-up truck right in front of the entrance.

The very experience of getting seated is pretty awesome. Obviously, the place was probably once a house - my guess is that it was a duplex shotgun style number. Needless to say, there isn't much elbow room, but it's all a part of the experience. The ceiling in the entry way and bar area is comprised entirely of framed artwork, pieced together like a giant Tetris game. If you're not the lucky party to dine in the truck, then you're lead through the kitchen to your table in the back of the building. Watch your step going through there, because that juggling act doesn't stop for anything.

We were smart to get there early; it was a rare occasion of walking in and being immediately seated. We sat down and the first thing on our table was water and cornbread muffins. I'm the type that could happily make a meal out of croutons if they were decent enough - these muffins were the bomb.com. Simple, but sweet and did exactly what an appetizer should: make you want more.

Before coming, Dad and Ginna talked about a dish that to Kyle and me sounded awful.
Shrimp and Alligator Sausage Cheesecake.
I don't blame you at all for passing negative judgment.
Yes, this dish sounds like it would be absolutely putrid, however when you think of it as an appetizer and not as a dessert it's a little bit easier to swallow. It's not sweet like you might think it would be. It's almost more like a flan or a souffle. And the gator tasted like the proverbial chicken.
We ordered the soft shell crab appetizer, but they were out so they brought us stuffed shrimp on the house. It more than made up for the lack of crab.
And to complete the trio of appetizers, a plate of hard fried cheese grits were served. If you ever thought you liked grits before, good lord, you ain't tasted nothing yet. The outside was crispy, almost like tempura, while the inside stayed velvety and creamy. Kyle, who doesn't even really like grits, went back for a second bite (and maybe a third... but who's counting?).

Dammit, this was all before we even ordered our entrees.

I opened my menu and was tempted to order one of everything; even the things I couldn't pronounce. Dad and Ginna split the Scallops (my first choice), Kyle decided on the Pan Fried Drum Fish with Shrimp (my second choice) and after much debate with myself, I chose the Stuffed Quail and Mushrooms.

When we put in our orders, Dad asked me again what I picked...
"...stuffed with what?-"
"I dunno. I don't really care. I'm sure it'll be good."
Kyle remembered what it was stuffed with, "... foie gras..." (fwah grah)
Dad looked at me as he's done many times before with an "are you serious" expression...
"Liver...?"
I still didn't care. I like trying new things, and this would certainly be a first.

Each entree at Jacques-Imo's comes with a very small but very delicious spinach salad with a vinaigrette dressing and a single fried oyster right on top. The whole salad is great, but the star that could easily sing solo is that little oyster.
It took a while for our food to come out, partly because my quail took more time to cook, but we're pretty convinced that other things must have happened in the kitchen that made our order come out so late. Even still, the food was incredible. The foie gras didn't bother me in the least. As a matter of fact, in tasting all of the dishes that came to the table, I'd say that the quail was my favorite. Lucky me.

Typically, as an act to politely turn a table so that the next party could be seated, Jacques-Imo's will perform something called a "lagninappe" (lan-yap - "something extra"). A lagninappe is when your meal is over, and you've not yet receieved the check (or maybe sometimes you have) and the waiter brings you 1 or 2 desserts without asking. It's all complimentary and it's all top notch. This, like I said speeds up your leaving process. Fine by me. Unfortunately, though, this time, we weren't bombarded with desserts, but it was all the better, considering we were pretty full.

Well, it was Sunday. This is always the hardest day for me because it's the Day of Good-Byes. But by hook or by crook, I was going to have some decent craw fish before going back to Houston. Dad had a little place in mind not too far from the house where it's said to be the best in the neighborhood. As far as I'm concerned, every little place in or around New Orleans is the "best in the neighborhood" for some reason or another and you're always lucky if you can even get in.
We did have to wait for a while to get a seat, but we preoccupied ourselves by putting up bets if I could finish off 30lbs of craw fish by myself.
No one had any faith.
I'm still thoroughly convinced that I could do it.
We beat the Church Crowd by about 30 minutes, which is lucky, because they sure did pile in after us. Including the backrooms and kitchen, Fisherman's Cove might be about as big as the 3 bedroom apartment I live in right now. But that didn't stop them from providing an excellent send-off meal of mud bugs. I was happy (and about as messy) as a pig in slop with spice juices running down each arm as I ebbed away at the 10lb pile (and my very own head of garlic) on the table. And it couldn't have been washed down with a better drink than a cold bottle of Barq's Root Beer.

I didn't want to leave for many reasons. I don't think I'll ever really get enough of New Orleans if I'm to experience it 1 weekend at a time. Mostly I love the culture that comes with its cuisine. You just can't find it anywhere else.

I'm already making plans to go back ASAP.

The latter half of this entry is dedicated to Ginna - thanks for the making it great.


-k

et toi

My financial priorities are somewhat different from those of my peers once my few bills have been taken care of. I rarely find clothes or shoes that blow my skirt up enough to buy, apps are less than applicable for me since I don't have a smart phone and I'm dehydrated enough of the time without the help of alcohol draining my body as well as my wallet. No, for me, my money is better and more often spent on (you guessed it) food. Or outings centered around food. Outings like... road trips to New Orleans, perhaps?

Thursday of last week my buddy, Kyle, and I set out on a 4 day excursion to the Crescent City. We were heading over for the annual French Quarter Fest, which is just as fun as Mardi Gras, but far less crowded and somewhat less expensive. Our rubber met the road as we salivated over the good music, good times and of course, good food to come. The cherry on top of the whole trip was being able to see good ol' Daddy McMillen, who moved to NoLa (technically Meaitrie, but the two are so close, it counts) a little over a year ago. And we arrived just in time... for Dad's oven ribs.

::Side Note::
Whenever there is an opportunity to have Papa McMillen cook for my sister or myself, chances are there will be one of 3 main staple meals that will be requested; crab cakes, pork chops 'n' apples/pears or oven ribs. I didn't even have make a request before coming over this time - Dad and Ginna already knew.

I loved that I could share such a great meal with Kyle - now that the tragedy of separation has come between the Houston installment of McMillens (thus depriving those of us who stayed behind of a good 50% of our favorite home-cooked meals), letting him in on the homemade goodness was special. The ribs were slightly different from the usual recipe, but still delicious and made a great initiation to the weekend's digestive experience.

Friday we woke up and made our way over to Huevos New Orleans.  Getting into this place was a treat all on its own since on the weekends it's basically impossible to even get inside the door. Healthy and full of flavor, each of us were totally pleased with our respective meals. Dad and Kyle got breakfast sandwiches, I got the country breakfast. The dishes were simple, but made well and satisfied our tummies without filling us to a painful extent.

At that point, it was time to head over to the festival, where music, shopping and cooking were already well underway. We set up our chairs at the Coca Cola stage where a new favorite band, Johnny Sketch and the Dirty Notes would be playing later that afternoon. Once settled, Kyle and I took a walk.
It's nearly impossible to see all of the French Quarter in one afternoon, but dammit, we tried. We moseyed through the French Market, looking at all of the cheap knickknacks and wares. A little further past the market was where the restaurants started; each of them had their usual bands playing the kind of jazz that Kyle and I were both looking forward to hearing.

Come lunch time, Dad treated me to an Ice Cream Pina Colada. It's funny- like I said, I'm not much of a drinker. when the gal was mixing my drink, Dad made mention of "a little alcohol" to make the drink happy.

Less than an hour later, I was napping by our chairs back at the Coca Cola stage...

But not before getting at least a proper lunch in my belly. We were craving po-boys, and boy, did we get what we wanted. Kyle got a BBQ shrimp, while I tried my very first soft shell crab. Being from Tejas, I was expecting Kyle's sandwich to be covered in a thick, brown, sweet sauce, but in New Orleans BBQ more refers to the way food is cooked vs. its flavor (go figure). I washed my food down with my absolute favorite flavor snowcone (or snoball if you're from NoLa) Blue Bubblegum (there will be an EYP entry for snowcones to come very shortly, by the way).
Then I crashed.

When we got home after a great day of festing, Kyle and I agreed that as delicious as our po-boys were, they only held us over until... well, that moment. We were hungry again. Dad recommended picking up a pizza from Gio's, a little hole-in-the-wall place around the corner from the house where they served the traditional pie as well as salads, entrees and (in my opinion) God's gift to meatballs. We got a pie, which was good and all- but the next time I'm in Metairie, I'll definitely be going back for those tennis ball sized meatballs.

Saturday, even after a great French toast breakfast, we piled into the car and Dad asks, "OK, who wants a snoball?" I didn't think, didn't pause, didn't hesitate a moment, "I DO! I DO!" Ginna made the comment that we just ate. My response was, "I don't think you understand here..." We stopped by a 'hood favorite (there were a lot to choose from). Dad got a White Russian flavor and laughed when I asked if it was adult (I was being totally serious... I wouldn't put it past a NoLa eatery to have alcoholic snowballs...) I enjoyed a half banana, half chocolate stuffed (ice cream in the middle) treat. Kyle asked if it was everything I'd hope for.
"... and more."
The afternoon brought us to the Magazine Street area, famous for its shopping. We enjoyed ambling around with not much destination in mind, followed by putting our feet up at Bulldog's Patio. There wasn't much conversation from the crowds gathered around the TV outside since the Masters were on (sorry Dad, but the Amen Corner wasn't exactly the highlight of the afternoon), but that just made the fountain of taps all the more easy to hear, which is considerably more enjoyable while you're nursing an Abita Amber draft.

 

Here's where we all found ourselves between Hell and a hot spot... 

Every time I've come to New Orleans, I've enjoyed a dish that I couldn't possibly hope to find the equal to in H-Town. BBQ oysters. And every time we've gotten them, it's always been in a New Orleans local place called Acme Oyster House. Yet again, to my pleasant surprise, BBQ did not mean that my shellfish would have grill marks and be covered in A1. 

The way these little morsels are prepared is they're halved and the shell is used as their cooking vessel on the grill. They're laden with garlic, butter, salt and other seasonings to turn what starts out as a loogie on a shell into one of the most out-of-this-world yet simple culinary masterpieces. 

Honestly, add garlic and butter to just about anything and how can you go wrong?

Acme does one hell of a stand up job in preparing these little guys, but each time I've been lucky enough to have them, I'm told, "Oh, well you think these are good, they're nothing compared to Drago's oysters..."

Evidently, Drago's was the first to ever throw half an oyster onto a grill and turn it to gold. I could only imagine if Acme does such a great job with their recipe, how much better the original would be. But that's what I kept talking about to Dad.
"Dad. Oysters. Oysters, Dad... Dude, Dad. Oysters."

Also, as anyone who lives anywhere besides Louisiana, Alabama or Mississippi will know, crawfish gets to be really expensive. So that was something I wanted to make sure I got my fix for.

And beside all of that, Dad was really excited about taking us to Jacques Imo's, a 'Nawlin's Style Cafe that serves up a lot 'tude and a lot of flavor.

Where do we go from here? We bantered back and forth all afternoon, and realized that we should have started way earlier in the day. Finally, though we decided to save the oysters for another time (all the more reason to go back). We headed over to Jacques Imo's.

This entry is already ridiculously long...

The rest of this entry will be continued in the following post. 

Make sure you check it out, though, because Jacques Imo's is a killer-diller trip.
Plus I'll share about the crawfish fix.

This half of the post is dedicated to Daddy McMillen - this trip was one of the best so far.

-k

mairzy doats and dozy doats

Call it porridge, call it gruel, call it oatmeal. Whatever you call it, you know you can call it just plain good and good for you. It's hard to find a proper place to start in describing oats and their greatness; the grain has been around since BC, it provides a hefty list of benefits and dammit, they're yummy.


Originally, oats were more of a wild grain that were thrown into a mix of other grains almost by accident simply because they grew within the same patches. They kept the status of the underdog grain for centuries before they were truly harvested for deliberate use. Even then, it was used mainly as stock feed. But the plant slowly made its way into the hearts and bowls of early Europeans and eventually early Americans.

There's even a cool quote from Samuel Johnson's Dictionary that defines oats as, "a grain, which in England is generally given to horses, but in Scotland appears to support the people." The retort to this dis was by a Scotsman who said, "That's why England has such fine horses and Scotland has such fine men."

The Scott was pretty much correct in focusing on the fact that anyone who consumed oats was fine
(I be fine as hell).

I know that in my own experiences, oatmeal is something of a wonder food. I remember when I was in high school, trying to figure out what to eat for breakfast without adding to the luxury of my waistline. Even though I'd been juggling my medicine dosages for a couple of years, I was still struggling with my blood sugar sky-rocketting and my insulin getting spiked with other foods that I thought were healthy.

Without really considering the benefits that oats had to offer, I woke up earlier than usual one morning to find that there wasn't quite enough milk for my usual bowl of cold cereal, and decided to treat myself to hot grains.  By second period, I found myself in the nurse's office due to a severe drop in blood sugar. This happened a couple of times before I realized that I didn't need to take so much insulin for what I was eating, even though I had a heaping scoop of brown sugar mixed in (I tend to have a pretty strong sweet tooth). Oats don't spike your insulin.
Nuh-uh...?
Yeah-huh.
And something even sweeter is with as much fiber as there is in a bowl of oatmeal, you stay fuller longer. Kinda feels like you're rediscovering oatmeal, huh?


Mama Says: Mix oatmeal with your favorite shredded cheese, just like you do with grits.  
(I thought it was weird at first too, but after trying it, I discovered a new favorite. And with cheese instead of fruit and sugar, the fat element keeps the good stuff with you even longer AND is a little more lunch and dinner friendly)

This entry is dedicated to my poor little Canon Rebel XTi - whose last photograph to take was the one below before going to the doctor to get its lens fixed.

-k