Food on TV

I admit it. I watch a lot of tv. And I'll freely admit to watching a lot of pointless reality television. And not even the sort that appeals to my more, ahem, prurient interests. Heck, I watch House Hunters AND House Hunters International, two of the more pointless shows on television.

I also watch an awful lot of shows about food. And because I love you, I'm here to tell you what I think of them, in order of watchability. No, not every single show is listed here. I don't watch them all. If you want to, please do and set up your own damn blog.

1. Boiling Point-A BBC documentary about the opening of Gordon Ramsay's first restaurant. You want to know what it takes to open a three star restaurant? This is as close as you'll get. Fascinating. And raw. Affirms for all time Ramsay's unswervable commitment to his art and to his own set of standards, both professional and personal. Available to watch on Youtube.

2. Iron Chef-The grandaddy of them all. Note, this is not the American version that's not nearly as entertaining. This is the old school Japanese show that was emphatically not made for American viewers. The premise? Four Iron Chefs. The contestant picks one to compete against. They get an hour to cook as many dishes as they can using a mystery ingredient. Then those meals are judged by three people with only the vaguest connection to the food world. Seriously. A rasanjin scholar. (A type of ancient porcelain). A former legislator. A parade of winsome actresses. Minor athletes. All of which are apparently paid to say things like, "You have honored the liver of this monkfish." Very entertaining and compulsively weird watching. Like everything else that involves a competition, this show was taken waaaaayyyyy too seriously in Japan. If you've never seen it, you must. Note: The American version isn't nearly as compelling.

3. Top Chef-The best of the game show cooking shows. This has evolved from a show on which itinerant and starving sous chefs jousted for a chance to pay off credit card debt, into a showcase of serious culinary skills. Several contestants have gone on to greater success, including Stephanie Izard, the winner of two years ago who is universally hailed as one of America's rising culinary stars. The show features regular contributions by the stars of the cooking world (stars?! Really? Really), like Anthony Bourdain, Jacques Pepin, etc. It's also one of the few shows with real integrity. But then, if you're reading this, you probably know all this already.

4. No Reservations-Some say this show has lost its edge. I say those people are stupid. Don't hate the player, hate the game. Bourdain is an average writer (Kitchen Confidential, great read, his fiction, don't know, don't care) with a great personality, discerning taste in all things and a sincere passion for food. He finds the compelling in every place he visits. In places as diverse as the Ozarks and Dubai, he ferrets out the real connections between place and food. There are plenty of moments that will make you laugh, and plenty that will genuinely move you. I think of his visit to the Plain of Jars in Cambodia. Or one of his visits to Japan where we witness a solitary man making rice noodles by hand, in a fashion that will likely die with him. Along the way, we meet plenty of Tony's friends, cooks like Michael Symon and Eric Ripert, writers like Daniel Woodrell (Winter's Bone) and Jim Harrison (Legends of the Fall). Truly compelling television. Even if you don't like food all that much.

5. Kitchen Nightmares (American and British versions). Here's the premise. A restaurant is failing. A family is failing. The owners call upon Gordon Ramsay to help them fix it. He comes in and tells them their food sucks. They argue. They cry. (Well, Gordon doesn't) Everyone talks about their feelings. Having reduced everyone to quivering piles of goo, Ramsay then rebuilds them. He teaches them to cook. He teaches them to live! Et voila, that most cherished of American dreams; redemption. Is it cheesy? Sure. But Gordon Ramsay, say what you will about him, genuinely cares about food. And he's a spectacular leader. Maybe I'm a gullible sap, but I think he changes lives on this show.

6. Top Chef Masters-Just like the mothership only with accomplished chefs competing for charity. And no Padma Lakshi. Who, by the way, scares the hell out of me. But still a good way to kill an hour.

7. Hell's Kitchen-Yes, Gordon Ramsay's temper is rapidly becoming a cliche. Yes, the contestants are cast in roles (Asian tramp, crazy guy, Latina tramp, slutty white chick, black tramp, nerdy guy with glasses, four or so people who can cook, blimpy pasty guy from NY or NY) rather than chosen for ability. Yes, yes, the show has an all too familiar arc and is impossible to keep up with outside of DVR or Tivo. (Seriously, it'll be on two or three nights in a row and then sometimes for two hours instead of one. What's up with that?) But as said above, the chef that is Ramsay is a leader. And like him or not, you would follow him too. He turns spuds into chefs. (Or at least respectable cooks.) And every once in awhile, you'll see some absolutely bizarre television. To wit: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fzBnFutegJE

8. America's Next Great Restaurant-A dozen or so weirdos of varying ability and craziness who think they've figured out the theme of the next restaurant to compete in the fast casual market. Bobby Flay is a judge, which doesn't annoy me as much as it might have a few years ago, as is Curtis Stone who is very pleasant in an Australian sort of way. It also has Steve Ellis, who always introduces himself as "Steve Ellis, the founder of Chipotle," which, I imagine, is also his standard pickup line with the tramps of Hell's Kitchen.

9. Food Fight-Simple and direct. Who makes the best hot dog in Boise? Well, here's two restaurants who say they do. Let's get it on! Also features a perky, ambiguously ethnic hostess. She could be Puerto Rican, she could be Italian. Sort of like the guy who replaced Steve on Blue's Clues. Not quite dark enough to be threatening, just dark enough to be vaguely exotic. Guessing is half the fun!

10. Restaurant Impossible-Kitchen Nightmares lite. A bigger, louder Scotsman at the helm. Less money. Less time. Less everything! Hooray!

11. Throwdown-Bobby Flay says he can make your signature dish better than you can. Sometimes, he's right.

12. Ace of Cakes-It's gone now. Seemed harmless enough.

13. All of those shows featuring people eating repulsive shit-Man vs. Food, Bizarre Foods, etc. What's the premise of these? "Hey, watch as I try to eat a whole pile of yellow stuff! Hey look, it's moving! God, I should have taken the LSAT again" I used to wonder who watched these shows. ( I used to wonder if anyone thought Tom Green was worth emulating. Then I saw Adam Richman) Then I got married to my wife who happens to be Navajo and I met the in-laws. Now I know the answer. Quite rightly, brown people enjoy watching white people hurt themselves for no good reason whatsoever. Who can blame them? Seriously though, these shows are beyond stupid. There's another coming where two guys eat the spiciest food they can find. Super. I imagine they'll say things like "Extreme!" and "Awesome!" and compare the next morning's explosive bowel movement. Yawn. Count me out.

13. Top Chef Just Desserts-Ouch. Ow, quit it! A few things you should know about me. I watch home decorating shows. I watch Project Runway. I enjoy the short stories of Somerset Maugham and the novels of Jane Austen. I listen to David Bowie and Peggy Lee.

I never thought I would run into a show that was simply too gay for me. And I don't mean too homosexual. I mean too gay. Clarification: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6mKSj_dD09M&feature=related

Until the airing of this abomination of a show. Christ.

So that's it. I know I'm certainly forgetting or omitting shows. Tough. It's my blog.

Bad news, scratch that. Terrible news.

Those of you who work or live near the downtown area are probably familiar with Chaffin's Diner. It's been a few things prior to operating under that name, but it's been Chaffin's for twelve or thirteen years.

It's an old school diner; deep booths, counter-seating, semi-open kitchen. Fairly typical. The food, however, has been extraordinary .

Chaffin's hits all the diner notes; eggs, club sandwich, etc. But where it really shines is in the execution of those classics. For about two years, I've ordered nothing but eggs florentine here. Poached eggs on English muffin with spinach, covered in hollandaise sauce.

Let's stop right there. This is hollandaise sauce made TO ORDER. In a FREAKING DINER!

Have you ever made hollandaise? I have. In the best of circumstances, in your own kitchen, with all the time in the world, it's a difficult thing to make. In a commercial kitchen, next to a three hundred degree flattop, in the middle of breakfast rush, it's really a feat.

It sometimes takes a while. Because if it curdles, or breaks, they THROW IT OUT AND START OVER!!!

That's the attention to detail that lifts this place above the ordinary. That makes a burger ordered medium rare actually arrive medium rare. That makes bacon actually taste like bacon. That makes iced tea that doesn't taste like it's been steeping since yesterday. Because it hasn't. And if it tasted off, they'd throw it out and start over.

So why is this post labelled "Terrible news?" Because the yellow "For Sale" sign means they're selling the business. And moving away. The new owners will probably still run a diner. (If they don't tear the place down.) But will they make hollandaise a la minute? Will they care if they consistently exceed your expectations? I fear not. I fear I will soon be in hollandaise limbo. Drifting from diner to diner, seeking to capture a time and place lost in the mists of my youth. Or early middle age.

Chaffin's, I miss you already.

Moose Tracks: Compare and Contrast

For those of you who don't know, Moose Tracks is a flavor of ice cream produced by Denali Flavors and licensed to local brands across this great land. It also happens to be freaking awesome.

Moose Tracks is vanilla ice cream stuffed with peanut butter cups and shot through with ribbons of chocolately goodness. My God, that stuff is good.

Now, the stuff sold at our local chains; Albertson's, Fry's and Safeway, is all certainly called Moose Tracks, but each of these stores produce it themselves under license. There is, therefore, a big difference between these flavors.

In the interest of science, and because, I, of course, consider it my sacred duty, I have sampled each and have found a clear winner. (And by "sampled," I mean I've eaten a large pile of ice cream.)

Drum roll.

Fry's version beats the pants off Albertson's and Safeway's. Both of the latter are very icy, not a good trait in vanilla ice cream. Also, both of the peanut butter cups used in the latter come up short in the peanut butter to chocolate ratio.

Also, Safeway is often mysteriously out of Moose Tracks and instead chock full of Bunny Tracks, some godforsaken pale imitation some focus group invented. Note to Safeway: No one was asking for chocolate bunnies in their ice cream. Also, filling ice cream with hard, brown, raisin-sized lumps is an unfortunate choice for a product named Bunny Tracks.

Think it through.

Good News

Good news for the Eastside. El Guero Canelo opened another location on 22d East of Craycroft. Of course, the standing sign still says Los Betos, but what else would you expect of Geuro Canelo? Knowing the owner the very little I do, I wonder if he doesn't see it as a battle trophy, like a captured Roman Eagle or a regimental flag? No matter. Bacon wrapped dogs and all the tacos you can eat are on available. No word on whether they'll serve breakfast there too. Also no word on whether BKs will immediately open a location across the street. But that's my guess.

On another note, local superhero Sam Fox is closing Montana Avenue on Grant across from Costco to open another Zin Burger. Good move.

Montana Avenue wasn't a badly run restaurant, but it suffered from a lack of concept. Which, if you're familiar with Sam Fox, (God I love saying that name) is pretty surprising. Service was fine, food was adequate, outside of some bizarre missteps, (note, don't put a pile of arugula atop a freshly fried stack of calamari. The heat from the squid will wilt the arugula, which will in turn release liquid and make said squid soggy. And what's the fascination with arugula anyway?), a weirdly tame winelist and a muddled, directionless menu. In short, I'm happy a restaurant I love is opening in the stead of a restaurant I'm indifferent to.

The Way of the Sushi Chef Is Found In...

Every few months a friend will mention a new sushi place. What follows is generally the proclamation that X is the best ever to grace our native caliche and that the fish there is just as good as anything you can get in LA, NY, San Francisco, fill in the blank.

Which is, of course, all bullshit.

Sushi is, at base, extremely simple food. Fish and rice. The better those two ingredients are, the better the meal. And fish of better quality is available other places that are closer to the ocean, places that have things like wholesale fish markets. Superlative, blow your mind nigiri requires classically trained chefs steeped in hundreds of years of tradition. Those folks ain't moving to Tucson for a twelve dollar an hour job.

That said, Tucson certainly has its share of perfectly adequate sushi restaurants where the chefs care about what they're doing and try to make your experience as pleasurable as possible. And that's what it really is about.

When the fish is the same in this joint or that one, there's little about the menu itself that divides one place from another. That's especially true for those like myself who veer more closely to the nigiri/sashimi edge of the sushi spectrum. Seriously, if you're not a nineteen year old sorority girl, why are you having a caterpillar roll? Why? Because you don't like the taste of fish. The same way you drink wine coolers because you still want to get drunk without that nasty alcohol taste.

But I digress.

Here's what I'm looking for in a satisfactory sushi restaurant:

1. It must be clean.
2. Seriously, it has to be clean.
3. I don't want the spicy yellowtail on my roll to be scooped out of a plastic bin.
4. I also want it to still be recognizable to the naked eye as fish.
5. The rice must be prepared correctly. It should be sushi rice, should taste faintly of vinegar and not be over cooked.
6. See number 5.
7. Consistency.
8. Service that will get the hell out of my way and let me enjoy my lunch.

Sachiko, the name means, loosely, "Happiness," delivers all this. It is, to coin Hemingway, a clean, well-lighted place. The service is attentive, but not intrusive. The fish is reasonably fresh and consistently dressed.

It is a place of comfortable routine and cared for food. My wife and I live nearby and we frequent it with our children. My wife enjoys the noodle dishes. I enjoy my sashimi. My children enjoy the chopsticks and staring at the things I eat.

In the Hagekure, one of the very first phrases states that "[t]he Way of the Samurai is found in death." That's not pointless bravado. That's the acceptance of a core Zen principle as a way of life, that the way you do something is more important than the end result. That even if the desired result is not possible, that one will still live consciously. To the best of one's ability.

Sachiko Sushi will never be the best sushi restaurant on earth. It does not have the personnel or raw material available to equal the best that New York or Los Angeles has to offer. It doesn't need to.

It has a small core of family willing to work hard, to grasp the best things available to them, and to give you, and me, the best they can. Without let up. Day after day. That is a thing to be admired. And Sachiko Sushi is a restaurant to be frequented.

Seoul Kitchen

I've been a big fan of Korean food for a long time.

In college, my longest-standing roommate was half Korean. His mother took care of us. And by took care of us, I mean, she tried, in a very loving way to jam herself into every aspect of our lives, from our romantic interests to our daily intake of pickled cabbage. She was gentle about it. For instance, if she thought our vegetable intake was lacking, she'd get a faraway stare and say something like, "People should eat more salad." People meaning us.

It was certainly meant well and we took it as such. Most of her advice, suggested clothing purchases, etc., we simply blithely ignored. Probably to our detriment. But the one thing I didn't ever ignore and in fact welcomed, were the monthly deliveries of kimchi. By kimchi I mean pickled cabbage with chili. I could have eaten a gallon of the stuff. Probably still could, with tears running down my face.

So happy indeed was I when Seoul Kitchen opened near our home. It's your typical strip mall joint, not very large, sort of hard to find if you don't know it's there. The food is sensational and direct. As, in my opinion, it should be. This is straight up Korean soul-food (seoul food?). That means meat. That means rice. That means two or three simple flavors, strong and without embellishment.

That certainly doesn't mean you can't embellish. Every meal comes with an assortment of kimchi. From the aforementioned cabbage to daikon, to a small dish of bean sprouts. You're free to add what you like. Plates are generally large enough to share. You certainly won't go away hungry.

You may, however, have periods of hunger. The general problem with most family run restaurants is that, at the start of the business, they have no, and I mean no, experience running a restaurant. What does that mean for you dear diner? It means your meals are cooked one at a time. In the order they get to the kitchen. So your food arrives in the same way. It means your waitress isn't really a waitress. She's more of an expediter.

Seoul Kitchen suffers when there are more than two or three diners in the place. Which there usually are. Because the food is really just that good. So good, that I'd like to overlook the service completely. But they've been there for a while now and they should have worked some of this out for themselves.

The bottom line? By all means visit the Seoul Kitchen. On a weekday. At about three o'colck.

The fourteen dollar frozen pizza.

I've never been a fan of Domino's. They were (and unfortunately still are) a relic of the days when the options for delivery pizza were somewhat limited. Consider. During the eighties and some of the nineties, Pizza Hut didn't deliver. You were therefore at the mercies of Domino's or whatever local joint happened to be in the neighborhood. So it was often Domino's or nothing.

To top it off, the pizza simply blew. Just bad. And it was expensive. Still is frankly.

So it was something of a pleasant surprise to see the latest wave of Domino's commercials, you know the "we know we suck and so we changed" commercials? They promise a better crust, tasty sauce, "real" cheese! Whatever that last means. What were they using before?

But anyway, it looks good on the tv. And I'm always willing to give the product of honest introspection a chance, right? After all, that's why Ford gave us the Taurus, right? Right!

So the other day when we both arrived home from work and didn't want to cook, we took the plunge. Ordering online, we were able to track our pizza step by step, from creation to delivery. I imagine this innovation was in response to the legions of America's obese who used to just stare at the clock and fume.

So we eventually got our pizza. The deliveryman was a nice guy. Bonus. The pizza was still expensive, fifteen bucks for a small. But hey, that's okay with me if the pizza is good.

Well, it ain't. If anything, it's worse. Doughy, not much cheese, tasted stale. Passable. But not good. If anything, it tasted like frozen pizza. A fifteen dollar frozen pizza. Ouch.

So nice try Domino's. We appreciate the effort. But this is a world of 'do,' not 'try.' And your do is just not very good.