To satisfy some truly last-minute Thanksgiving shopping needs, some Twin Cities supermarkets, grocers and natural foods co-ops will be open on Thursday, including:
Dragon Star Oriental Foods (633 W. Minnehaha Av., St. Paul), open 8 a.m. to 6 p.m.
Eastside Food Co-op in Minneapolis, open 8 a.m. to 2 p.m.
El Burrito Mercado in St. Paul, open 7 a.m. to 5 p.m.
Both branches of Mississippi Market in St. Paul, open 7:30 a.m. to 2:30 p.m.
Seward Co-op in Minneapolis, open 8 a.m. to 3 p.m.
Sun Foods (544 University Av. W., St. Paul), open 8 a.m. to 6 p.m.
Select Twin Cities Walmart Supercenters, open 24 hours.
Wedge Co-op in Minneapolis (pictured, above), open 9 a.m. to 2 p.m.
All six Twin Cities Whole Foods Market locations, open 8 a.m. to 3 p.m. (some stores open at 7 a.m.)
Several bakeries are also serving customers on Thanksgiving, including:
All three Minneapolis locations of the Turtle Bread Co., open 6 a.m. to 2 p.m.
A Baker’s Wife’s Pastry Shop in Minneapolis, open 6:30 to noon. 729 6898
Patrick's Bakery & Cafe in Richfield, open 7 a.m. to 8 p.m.
Lucia’s to Go in Uptown Minneapolis, open 8 a.m. to noon.
All Twin Cities Bakers Square locations are open 7 a.m. to 5 p.m.
My Thanksgiving wish? A better photograph of the magnificent turkey that I've been making for the past six years.
If I posted the one that I snapped from my (not-so-great) Android smartphone from Thanksgiving 2012, no one would continue reading this post. Not pretty. And I'm usually so busy getting dinner ready that it doesn't occur to me to stop for a moment and snap a food-porn image for Facebook posterity.
Instead, I'll run the image from the cover of Saveur magazine, November 2007, which featured a you-can't-believe-how-amazing-this-is recipe for the ultimate Thanksgiving turkey. Wait, doesn't that sound like a food magazine cover blurb: "THE ULTIMATE THANKSGIVING TURKEY'?
Truth to tell, that's exactly what it is. Naturally, it's the handiwork of Lynne Rossetto Kasper, the gilded-voiced center of The Splendid Table universe. Her recipe (find it here) goes to considerable pains to insert flavor -- in this case, the tail end of apple season -- into turkey, which, if we are honest with ourselves, is not exactly the most flavorful of animal proteins.
Most of that autumn apple goodness materializes via an overnight brine, one that's composed of pureed apples and apple cider. Rossetto Kasper balances the fruit's sweetness with plenty of garlic and chile powder, then finishes with fragrant basil. A third nod to apples comes in the form of apple brandy, a building block for a remarkably robust gravy.
Prior to embracing the Lynne Rossetto Kasper Path to Thanksgiving Enlightenment, I'd never brined a turkey. Now I can't imagine our Thanksgiving turkey any other way. This is one sublimely juicy bird, and the various complementary notes sneak into each bite in a nuanced chorus of whispers rather than shouts.
Another bonus: This is one great-looking Thanksgiving table centerpiece, glowing with a crisp, deeply browned, caramelized skin (photo, above, from Saveur and photographer Landon Nordeman). My suggestion is that you show it off to your guests (what cook doesn't like to hear oohs and aahs?) before carving it, if a tableside knife show isn't part of your itinerary.
The multi-step recipe may seem daunting at first. But persevere. It's detailed, yes. But complicated? No. Just make sure you read it carefully, several times, and several days before starting. After going through it once, first-hand, you'll understand its inherent logic and simplicity.
I'll admit that I cheat with the gravy (don't tell Lynne) by dispensing with the whole making-the-broth routine. Although it's not a terribly time consuming step in the process, I prefer to channel my limited time into other cooking tasks.
I buy it. Not from the supermarket, but from Clancey's Meats & Fish in Linden Hills. Not only Clancey's version a far more convenient alternative than preparing it myself, but the deeply flavorful results are better than anything I could hope to make, not only for gravy, but for basting the stuffing.
Another Thanksgiving tradition? Buying our turkey at Clancey's, which owner Kristen Tombers imports from Wild Acres Game Farm in Pequot Lakes, Minn. It's a superior-quality product, and since the turkey is the sun around which the Thanksgiving solar system revolves, the splurge, price-wise, is more than worth the investment.
One last suggestion: While you're preparing this awe-inspiring turkey on Thursday, tune into "Turkey Confidential," Rossetto Kasper's annual live (and entertaining) Thanksgiving Q&A, with guests Michael Pollan, Mario Batali, Ted Allen, Alexandra Guarnaschelli and Pati Jinich. Catch it from 10 a.m. to noon on Minnesota Public Radio. In the Twin Cities, find it on KNOW, 91.1 FM, or listen to the program's live-stream.
An unplanned event required showing up with a few dozen cookies. When I spied a jar of blood orange marmalade in the back of the cupboard, I immediately knew what I'd be baking.
I ran across this recipe six years ago when Neiman Marcus published "Neiman Marcus Taste," a follow-up to it popular "Neiman Marcus Cookbook." You may remember the latter title. It's the one that published the store's famous chocolate chip cookie recipe.
I've probably prepared Orange Marmalade Cookies a dozen times, and they never fail to impress. The fruity marmalade adds an unexpectedly tangy bite and probably accounts for the cookies' chewy, super-moist texture. Fresh juices and zest keep the icing - laid on thick, of course -- from becoming too sugary sweet. They're pretty, too, especially when the weather turns cold and citrus becomes an automatic mood-brightener. Who doesn't cheer up when they frosting flecked with colorful and fragrant orange and lemon zest?
Another attraction, at least for this history buff, is that the recipe originates with the pioneering Helen Corbitt. She was recruited to run the store's Zodiac Room restaurant in 1955, shortly after it opened inside the store's downtown Dallas flagship, and she wielded enormous influence on the way in-store restaurants evolved and matured.
Department store restaurants forged happy memories for generations of American shoppers (the Oak Grill at Dayton's and the Fountain Room at Young-Quinlan in downtown Minneapolis are two local examples), and Corbitt's creative work made Neiman Marcus a leader in this field. She expanded her influence beyond Dallas by writing more than a half-dozen cookbooks (I have three Corbitt titles in my kitchen library), retiring from the store in 1969 but remaining an active consulting presence well into the mid-1970s. She died in 1978.
"She changed the face of retail dining in America by setting new and higher standards," wrote Kevin Garvin in "Neiman Marcus Cookbook." "Her impact in Texas and the wider food world was so great that many people in Dallas and beyond still mentioned her with admiration and affection."
James Beard referred to her in one of his cookbooks as "the queen of the ladies' lunch," and Stanley Marcus, the store's chairman, introduced her as the "Balenciaga of food."
While these cookies aren't exactly the equivalent of a Parisian couturier's work, they do exude a bit of glamour. Well, more than your basic Snickerdoodle, anyway. Would you expect anything less from Neiman Marcus?
At the event, the cookies were a hit, as always. I snuck one from the table and as I enjoyed its bright citrus bite, two thoughts came to mine: I'm going to have to remember to use the icing to jazz up a simple sugar cookie (we have a doozy of a recipe that's coming out on Dec. 5th in our 11th-annual Taste Holiday Cookie Contest). And I've always thought this cookie would be delicious with lime marmalade and a lime zest/lemon zest icing. Next time.
ORANGE MARMALADE COOKIES
Makes about 3 dozen cookies.
Note: From "Neiman Marcus Taste: Timeless American Recipes" by Kevin Garvin with John Harrisson (Clarkson Potter).
3 c. flour
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 c. (1 stick) unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 c. granulated sugar
2 eggs, beaten
1 c. orange marmalade
2 tsp. freshly grated orange zest
1 tsp. freshly grated lemon zest
1/4 c. freshly squeezed orange juice
1 tsp. freshly squeezed lemon juice
3 tbsp. unsalted butter, at room temperature
3 c. powdered sugar, divided
1/8 tsp. kosher salt
To prepare cookies: Preheat oven to 300 degrees and line baking sheets with parchment paper. In a large bowl, whisk together flour, baking soad and salt. In the bowl of an electric mixer on medium-high speed, beat butter until creamy, about 1 minute. Add granulated sugar and beat until light and fluffy, about 2 minutes. Add eggs and mix until thoroughly combined. Reduce speed to low, add flour mixture and mix until combined. Add marmalade and mix until combined. Using a teaspoon, drop dough, spacing cookies 2 inches apart, on prepared baking sheets (if dough is too sticky, cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for an hour). Bake until cookies are light brown in color, about 20 minutes. Remove from oven and cool 2 minutes before transferring cookies to a wire rack to cool completely.
To prepare icing: In a small bowl, combine orange zest, lemon zest, orange juice and lemon juice. In the bowl of an electric mixer on medium speed, beat butter until creamy, about 1 minute. Reduce speed to low, add 1 cup powdered sugar and mix until creamy. Add remaining 2 cups powdered sugar, salt and zest-juice mixture and mix until smooth. Spead icing over cooled cookies.
The burger: Chef Matthew Ellison isn’t exactly sure when the kitchen’s Asian-accented pork burger first materialized at Muffuletta. Ellison has been at the helm of the 36-year-old St. Anthony Park landmark for the past year, and this heaping helping of a burger predates him, "by at least 12 or 13 years,” he said. "Maybe longer."
This much is clear: Ellison would be run out of town if he yanked it from circulation. It’s that popular. But for a burger of such distinction, it’s surprising that it doesn’t enjoy a higher profile. Where are all the best-burger accolades that trumpet far less memorable examples of the genre? Where is the Facebook tribute page?
A few details: The thick patty is formed with top-quality ground pork (from Fischer Family Farms Pork, the go-to commercial pork producer in Waseca, Minn.), blended with a lively five-spice mixture, soy sauce and plenty of green onions. Crushed peanuts add pleasant crunch and a bit of richness to this otherwise this lean, flavorful meat.
Because he's dealing with pork, Ellison grills each patty until it's clearly cooked through, yet it remains juicy and succulent. The flavor doesn’t end there. Rather than a dull ketchup/mustard routine, there’s a zingy Thai peanut sauce, and in place of the standard lettuce it’s shreds of crunchy Napa and red cabbage. Tangy house-made pickles are the finishing touch.
Regulars will probably notice that the burger's challah bun has disappeared, replaced by a sturdy, complementary potato bun, baked in parent company Parasole’s Minneapolis bakery and lightly toasted.
The whole shebang is terrific -- juicy and messy and teasingly spicy -- and it's certainly a welcome detour off the beef burger highway. But don’t take my word for it. Listen to Ellison.
“When I come in for lunch with the family, it’s what I get,” he said. Enough said.
Price: $11.95 at lunch, $12.95 at dinner.
Fries: Included, with a choice between potato (slim, crispy, barely golden, lightly salted and fabulous) and sweet potato (not cloyingly sweet, pairs nicely with the well-seasoned pork).
Address book: 2260 Como Av., St. Paul, 651-644-9116, www.muffuletta.com. Open 11 a.m. to 9 p.m. Monday through Thursday, 11 a.m. to 10 p.m. Friday and Saturday, 10 a.m. to 9 p.m. Sunday (Asian burger not available during Sunday brunch).
Talk to me: Have a favorite burger? Share the details at firstname.lastname@example.org .
Sara starts this episode of Top Chef complaining about how she thinks she’s become the gooch of the season. Urban Dictionary informs me that this word apparently actually means something far too crass for print (even internet print!) but Sara uses it in this context as a summation of her growing sense of unease in the competition, namely her fear that she’s bringing bad luck to all of the team challenges. As she has in weeks prior, Sara laments her fading success in the contest thus far, noting her singular early brush with the top and reminding us just how much she hates landing firmly in the middle of the pack.
So where does Sara wind up at the end of this week’s elimination challenge? Well, the middle, but let’s not lose the forest through the trees here. Yes, Sara is once again absent from the better half of the judge’s table, but it also occurs in a week that Tom Colicchio calls one of the best in 11 seasons of the show and one where even all three of the dishes in the bottom have elements to them that are universally praised. There’s not a lot of attention placed on Sara or her dish this week, but we can safely presume from the blanketing praise that her dumplings were more than impressive. That’s not a bad place to be in at this stage, at least not when the crucial component of confidence comes into play. Sara still can’t trump the Ninas of this season, but knowing that she’s still capable of scoring a hit is hopefully all it takes to push her into overdrive.
My criteria for weighing the success of this season has been how much the individual challenge components speak to New Orleans culture, and this week delivers a one-two punch. First up is a supremely entertaining (and refreshingly simple) Quickfire that has jazz legend Dr. John asking the cheftestants to make him a hot sauce. Actually, he asks for a hot sauce with a “hip tang” to it and continues to use words and phrases like “flavorocity” and “Trinidadily too hot,” much to the contestant’s chagrin and my sheer and utter amusement. It does not get more N’awlins than Dr. John.
There’s a lot of flavors in the air here including pineapples from Shirley, apricots and coffee from Nicholas, and anchovies from Justin, but ultimately it’s Brian who wins for his green jalapeno and serrano hot sauce with lime and yuzu juices. I’ve criticized Brian before for being too eager to skate by on complacency, but two weeks of immunity in a row have made him into a bit of a dark horse, even on a topsy-turvey challenge that saw Nina land in the bottom for seemingly no concrete reason other than the seemingly random whims of Dr. John. At one point he uses “clipped my wings” as a method of praise, which practically throws all my bad middle school poetry asunder. We don’t get to see Sara’s (or Travis’) hot sauce on TV, likely because those precious seconds were needed to lovingly linger on shots of Dunkin Donuts coffee and Keurig machines. Sigh.
The main challenge starts immediately when a 300-pound dead pig is wheeled into the kitchen. It’s a pretty grotesque image that feels strangely fitting of NBC’s Hannibal, but the contestants are downright giddy to start hacking up the ill-fated oinker as part of the New Orleans tradition of boucherie, in which members of a community come together to butcher a pig and utilize every single one of its parts. There’s a bit of drama involving Sara when Louis accuses her in a talking head segment of being bossy without contributing to the butchering, but it also appears that Sara didn’t pass Justin’s “raise your hand if you’ve butchered over 10 pigs like I have” test to actually get her hands on a knife like she clearly wanted to. Justin is increasingly grouchy and later almost burns the entire set to cinder.
Each chef is responsible for a different part of the hog and will have to prepare an individual dish for 250 outdoor diners. As already mentioned, Sara’s har gow (a type of Chinese dumpling served in dim sum) with pork, shrimp and crab barely gets any screen time, but it looks delicious and Tom calls it “really good.” As tasty as it is, Shirley also makes dumplings out of freaking pig kidney and upstages Sara. Shirley ends up in the top 3, a place I always want to see her. Nina’s also up there with her roasted pig’s head ragu, which Tom says should be the national dish of “Ninastan.” Carlos ultimately gets his second win for his pozole verde with fried chorizo tacos. Tom wants the recipe. If Sara doesn’t make it to the end, the combination of Shirley, Carlos and Nina is probably the ideal top three scenario.
Stephanie, Justin and Louis are the night’s worst three dishes (although Travis justly gets called out for not making his own ramen noodles), despite the judges finding something to like in each of them. Justin is absolutely incredulous that his pork breast is called dry (worth noting that Padma seemed much more mad about this than anyone else) and releases a string of expletives about it in the Stew Room. The judges love the flavor of Stephanie’s brodo (broth) but felt her pork belly was overworked and that the dish was missing a few ingredients. And while Tom says that a good dish is going home no matter the outcome, he didn’t seem to like any component of Louis’ pork leg except for the pork, critiquing both the texture of the melted corn and questioning the addition of popcorn to the dish. Louis goes home feeling he didn’t get to leave a mark of his own on the competition, which is probably what happens when you make people cook with cream cheese for entire challenges. If you’re following Last Chance Kitchen, Louis is the first person to beat Janine, so there’s a chance we could be seeing him again. I keep forgetting he has a Michelin star.
Next week – Restaurant Wars! Sara is front of the house, a position that should send a shiver down the spines of any veteran Top Chef viewers.
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