The Green Chile Variations, pt. 2, rev. ed.

 fig. a:  garden-fresh chiles

So, like I was saying...

There was this initiation in the majesty and the mystery of New Mexico-style green chile that occurred sometime in the 1990s in Albuquerque and environs.  This initiation turned into something of an obsession--a Green Chile Madness--albeit one that lay mostly dormant for years afterwards.  Then there was a period of rediscovery that began a few years ago, and that resulted in the rekindling of this obsession.  Things reached a fevered pitch sometime this past summer, not long after a fateful encounter with a green chile pork burrito in Billings, Montana, of all places.  When it comes to green chile pork--the genuine article--you learn to not ask too many questions.  You learn to just accept, and appreciate.

By the time the height of summer hit, we were roasting green chiles over open flames at every occasion.  We made a lot of green chile stew, and, in an homage to both Billings and Albuquerque, we filled quite a number of burritos with that stew.  But we also made a whole lot of chunky green chile sauce that we used for a wide variety of purposes:  from dressing scrambled and fried eggs in the morning, to smothering a pile of nacho chips, to adorning our AEB green chile cheeseburger.  Michelle cried real tears of joy the first time we made these.  She cried real tears of grief about eight seconds later when she'd made her first AEB green chile cheeseburger vanish into thin air.  Luckily for her, we had the means to make more, and that's exactly what we did.

 fig. b:  come to mama!

AEB Green Chile Cheeseburger 

1 lb freshly ground beef chuck
AEB green chile sauce*
cheddar or Monterey Jack cheese
smoky bacon
beefsteak tomato slices (in season)
ripe avocado slices
lettuce (optional)
mayonnaise (optional) 

Divide the meat into three portions.  Form into patties making sure that you've salted and peppered the meat sufficiently and that you don't overwork the meat.   

Fry in a pan (preferably with your leftover bacon drippings) to desired doneness, making sure to grace with sliced cheese for the last minute of cooking time.  Place patties on buns and dress with the remaining ingredients.  You might think that topping the burgers with guacamole would be even tastier than topping them with avocado slices, but, in our humble opinion, you'd be wrong:  the guacamole just competes with the green chile sauce, and the green chile sauce is already bursting with flavour. Sometimes less is more.

Place the top half of each bun on top.  Try your damnedest to hold that burger together as you take a chomp.  This may very well be the messiest burger you've ever eaten.  It will likely also be the very best. 

Makes three 1/3-pound Green Chile Cheeseburgers.  Serves 1-3.

These burgers are unreal, but don't forget about those eggs and those nachos.  Actually, you'll want to put that green chile sauce on just about everything when you have a batch around.  That's when you'll know the Green Chile Madness has set in.

END OF PART TWO

aj

* I haven't had the chance to turn the AEB green chile sauce into an actual recipe, but I can give you some pointers.

You'll need the following:

onion
vegetable oil or lard
garlic
cumin seeds
roasted green chiles
tomatillos (optional)
chicken broth
masa harina (optional)
salt and pepper

And basically, you'll have to do the following.  Sauté your onions until they are nice and soft.  Add your chopped garlic and some toasted and ground cumin seeds.  Add your roasted green chiles, some tomatillos, if you're using them, and your chicken broth.  Be judicious with your use of chicken broth.  You don't want to add too much, but the idea here is to add enough that you can cook your sauce down, uncovered, reducing it into a thing of beauty.  This shouldn't take all that long.  No more than about half an hour, if you've added the right proportion of broth.  Add a sprinkle of masa harina towards the end of this process if you'd like to thicken your sauce further and give it a bit of depth.  The goal here is to create a fairly thick, chunky sauce that will actually be appropriate for dressing a burger.  It ought to taste like heaven, too.

You'll notice that the ingredients and the method here are essentially just a variation on the Green Chile Stew recipe from Part One.

Others opt for a simpler approach to the green chile cheeseburger.  At the end of their Saveur piece on chile-hunting across New Mexico, Jane and Michael Stern included a recipe for a prototype that they picked up from a chef in Santa Fe.  There, instead of creating an actual green chile sauce, they spiced up the burger patties, then topped them with roasted New Mexico chiles that had been roughly chopped.

Either way, you can hardly go wrong.  In fact, you can only go right.

Boston Notebook

fig. a: You don't know beans...

When M., our friend and Ultimate Boston Authority, titled her extensive run-down of the food scene in Boston "Beans & Tweed," we weren't exactly 100% sure what to make of it.  I mean, yeah, we all know about Boston baked beans, but are they still just as central to the local imagination as they once were to the national imagination?

  fig. b: Uncle Sam + Sitting Bull

And, sure, I guess I can see the tweed connection, but what kind of Boston Tweed are we talking about?

 Ivy League?

fig. c: boss tweed


 fig. d:  bros. tweed

Retrosexual?

   fig. e:  tweed ride

fig. f: tweed rides again

Or this kind?

  fig. g:  Boston tweed cat carrier

Well, in the end, we didn't encounter a whole lot of beans or tweed.  No beans, because we placed our emphasis on scoring some premium seafood.  And no tweed, because it was somewhere close to 85º F when we arrived in Beantown.  But M.'s "Beans & Tweed" guide to Boston was a treasure trove of tasty and tantalizing tips nonetheless.

Unfortunately for us, our trip to Boston (Michelle's first!) was exceedingly short, and the stated purpose of the visit had to do with attending a conference, but we still managed to squeeze in some great outings...

Toro

We were dead set on going to Toro for our first dinner in Boston.  We'd heard great things, we were in the mood for top-notch tapas, we were thirsty for wine, and we were on another one of our crazy cross-border missions.  This time involving a bread delivery (?).

When Michelle's colleague and fellow Twitterer Jeffrey Finkelstein heard that we were heading down to Boston, he asked us if we could do him a favour--drop off a batch of his exceptional Hof Kelsten bread to a friend of his:  Ken Oringer, the owner and one of the co-chefs at Toro.  We told him we'd been thinking about visiting Toro anyway.  He told us that he'd make sure that he got us hooked up if we did.  Right on!

So that's how we wound up hauling an industrial-size bag (literally) of bread from Montreal to Boston.  This time the customs officials didn't even bat an eye.

Dropping off a load of bread didn't help to get us seated at Toro--it was Friday night and that joint was hopping!--but it did score us some attentive service and some lovely extras when we did.

Everything (and I do mean everything) we had was simply outstanding, but the highlights included the cauliflower a la plancha (with pine nuts and golden raisins), the whole salt-encrusted Mediterranean sea bass stuffed with herbs, the griddled garlic shrimp with Romesco, and their house special Latin American-style grilled corn with aioli, aged cheese, and espelette pepper.  I know, I know:  corn in March?  Like Michelle says:  just order it.  It was totally off the hook--the very best grilled corn either of us had ever had.

Verdict:  Olé!

Mr. Bartley's

Mr. Bartley's actually has a rather extensive menu, but their reputation rests on their assortment of "gourmet burgers."  You might think the "gourmet" label might scare some people off, but, no--Mr. Bartley's burgers are unbelievably popular.  The line-up outside stretched down the block at 2:30 in the afternoon.

When we saw the size of this queue, we figured we'd have to come up with a Plan B, but there were only two of us, so we decided to ask how long the wait was anyway.  After all, we were both majorly jonesing for a burger.  When the host told us "about 15 minutes" we thought he was having us on, but we decided to stick around to find out.  Sure enough, 15 minutes later, we were seated, waiting for our gourmet burgers.

Mr. Bartley's isn't exactly a fast food joint--the burgers are much too generous (7 ounces!) for that.  But it's pretty much as fast as it could possibly be, and it's an impressive operation to see in action.  They take your order outside, when you're waiting in line.  When you actually enter the premises, your order is set into motion, and is matched with your seating assignment.  No time is wasted on customers lollygagging over the menu, and the ritual of ordering has been seriously streamlined.  You still have a bit of a wait on your hands after you get seated, because these are big burgers and they're prepared with care, but Mr. Bartley's system allows them to cycle customers through the restaurant highly efficiently (hence, the miraculous "about 15 minutes" wait time).  More importantly, they make a tasty, perfectly cooked burger, and the place has all the character you'd expect of a Harvard Square burger institution of its vintage (since 1960!).  Plus, if it's good enough for the likes of Johnny Cash, Jacqueline Onasis, Bob Dylan, Joan Baez, Bill Belichick, Al Pacino, Adam Sandler, Tom Werner, and Katie Couric, it's good enough for you.  It was definitely good enough for us.

Verdict:  Rah!  Rah!  Rah!

Neptune


 fig. h:  Neptune

Easily the single biggest food highlight of the entire trip.  Neptune was definitely a bit of a splurge, but it was absolutely worth it.  We sat at the raw bar and took our sweet, sweet time, and when everything was said and devoured, Michelle proclaimed the meal one of her Top 5 restaurant meals of all time (!).

One of the reasons the meal was so much fun was because we avoided the main courses, and, instead, placed our focus on the raw bar and on a selection of accompanying appetizers and other side dishes (in retrospect, I guess we were still in tapas mode from the night before).  We ended up doing two platters from the raw bar--both of them à la carte, both of them consisting mainly of New England oysters--and even that wasn't enough:  Michelle ended up having an extra Jonah crab claw "for dessert" at the very end of our meal.

The oysters were simultaneously out of the world, and very much of it.  They were so plump, so juicy, so sweet, and so wonderfully briny.  We ended up having most of Neptune's East Coast offerings, including Cotuits (Cotuit, MA), Island Creeks (Duxbury, MA), and Wellfleets (Wellfleet, MA), but our favourites were the Ninigrets (Ninigret, RI) and the Thatch Islands (Barnstable, MA).  Michelle had never had Jonah crab claws before, so she insisted, and I was all too happy to comply.  I'd never had cracked crab without drawn butter, but those claws were pretty damn fine au naturel, and they were even better with a dab of Neptune's horseradish-laced cocktail sauce.  Finally, I insisted on adding some clams to the mix, and I was pretty glad I did, because their cherrystones were the sweetest, most tender clams I've ever had.

Other delica-seas included the Wellfleet littlenecks steamed in Vermentino wine, with garlic and parsley, the Neptune Caesar, whose combination of lolla rossa lettuce, pecorino, lemon, and boquerones (yes!) may have made it my definitive restaurant Caesar salad, and Neptune's crudo special.  Their crudo-of-the-day was striped bass from Virginia dressed with olive oil, chives, sliced red grapes, and verjus, and it was utterly masterful.  It blew us away, and I'm sure it would have made Dave Pasternack proud.

Next time (and, let me tell you, there will be a next time) we're definitely going to split one of Neptune's lobster rolls, but, otherwise, I'd go about things pretty much exactly the same way.

Verdict:  Ahoy!

Deluxe Town Diner

 fig. g:  deluxe!

Sunday we were in the mood for a deluxe diner breakfast, and a deluxe diner breakfast is what we got. In fact, that was the name of the diner we went to:  Deluxe Town Diner, in nearby Watertown, MA.  New England still has its fair share of authentic early- to mid-20th-century diners, and the Deluxe Town Diner is one of them.  And though the owners are clearly aware of their diner's retro charms, they haven't gone all Wowsville with it.  Instead, the focus is on the food.

We were lured by rumours of honest-to-goodness, homemade Johnny Cakes, and they were truly excellent (especially when drizzled with their 100% pure Vermont maple syrup), but so was everything else:  the corned beef hash, the home fries, the bottomless cups of coffee.

Verdict:  Hubba hubba!

Mystery Train

 fig. h:  all aboard!


On our way back to the Great White North, we made a detour to Cape Anne to eat some more seafood, buy some saltwater taffy, and experience the charms of coastal New England, but the best stop of this jaunt was one of our first:  Mystery Train Records in Gloucester, MA.  (M. didn't steer us wrong [she never does].)  Now that's what I call a record store.  Definitely one of the best I've been to in years. Such a crazy hodge-podge of a collection, such reasonable prices, and such a great shopfront window.  Classic record store dudes, too.

Verdict:  Kick out the jams!




Toro, 1704 Washington St., Boston, MA 02118 (South End), (617) 536-4300


Mr. Bartley's, 1246 Massachusetts Ave., Cambridge, MA 02138 (Harvard Square), (617) 354-6559


Neptune, 63 Salem St., Boston, MA 02113 (North End), (617) 742-3474


Deluxe Town Diner, 627 Mount Auburn St., Watertown, MA 02472 (617) 926-8400


Mystery Train Records, 21 Main St. Gloucester, MA 01930, (978) 281-8911



aj

Manna from Jersey

...Don't get me wrong. A big, overstuffed, freshly ground "gourmet burger" can be a wonderful thing. The meat might be of a higher quality. The meat/fat ratio and the coarseness of the grind might be carefully calibrated, resulting in a juicier more satisfying burger. The condiments might be more flavorful, possibly more exotic and/or challenging, and they might even be non-industrial. The bun might be homemade or "artisanally produced." The burger might even come with a clever wine/craft beer pairing.  But, more often than not, what distinguishes a so-called gourmet burger is its price tag ($10, $20, $30, $40, $50) and its pretentiousness (Kobe beef? Foie gras? Truffles?). And, if you're like me, sometimes you want something humbler, something that's a whole lot less busy, something that's closer to the burgers that became a popular favorite and swept the continent in the early 20th century. Sometimes you just want your burger smashed, with lots of onions. Sometimes you just want sliders. Sometimes you just want White Manna.*

fig. a: White Manna's cheeseburger

Not only do the good people at White Manna produce truly definitive sliders, but the experience of stepping through that Streamline entrance is a time portal experience that ranks up there with some of our favorites (like Clare & Carl's in Plattsburgh, or Wilensky's here in Montreal).

fig. b: White Manna, diner

There were no vintage hot wheels to be seen when we visited, like there were when Saveur featured White Manna in this collage from their "Burger Bible" issue (#122, September 2009),

fig. c: White Manna, icon

but it didn't matter a whit. The vintage diner interior, the menu ($1.30/cheeseburger), the counter repartee, the sizzle of the ground beef patties, and the sweet smell of the onions were plenty enough to transport us through time. I'm not sure if it took us back to 1946, when it opened, but it definitely took us deep into the 20th century.

What's the secret behind White Manna's sliders? Well, there's the quality of the beef meatball that is its foundation. There's the smashing of the meatball against the griddle, creating the slider patty form. There's the copious amount of thinly slice onions that is then pressed into the patty. There's the pillowy-soft potato bun. And, last, but not least, there are the pickles, which aren't the droopy, day-glo specimens you get at most burger joints--they've actually got snap (!), and flavor (!!)--they actually taste like a pickle (!!!).  But most importantly, there's the technique.  Fast food, this ain't.  It takes a good few minutes to make a White Manna slider.

fig. d: White Manna magic

The beef is given plenty of time to sizzle, the onions are given time to caramelize, and, over time, the two become one (or darned-near close to it), especially if you were wise enough to order a cheeseburger.  And the buns have to be steamed--over the patties (!).  So you've got to be a little patient--this is fast food at its slowest.  But your patience will be rewarded. And White Manna's sliders are so dainty,** so inexpensive, and so totally addictive that you can easily eat a bunch. I'd say two would be a minimum order. Many patrons order 4, 5, even 6 burgers for themselves.

Let's say I was on vacation in New York City. I'm not sure that I'd rent a car just to scour Northern New Jersey for diners, but that certainly wouldn't be the worst idea--especially since these vestiges of early- to mid-century Americana have been disappearing fast.*** If you're already driving to New York, though, White Manna makes for an easy (and particularly tasty) pit stop. You can find a map here.

Want to watch a video of White Manna's magic in action, or, better yet, make your very own White Manna-style sliders in the comfort of your own home? You can find a video + a recipe here, at Beef Aficionado.

While we've yet to give Nick's sliders recipe a whirl (we're still reeling from our visit to White Manna), we have been making a very similar smashed onion burger for a while based on a recipe that appeared in Saveur. The method comes from Sid's Diner in El Reno, Oklahoma. We've never had the pleasure of visiting Sid's, but their signature burger is another classic example of an early-20th-century/Depression-era burger, one that uses a heap of onions to add flavor and make the beef go a little further. The recipe looks like this:

Sid's Onion Burger

4 tbsp canola oil
1 lb ground beef, gently formed into 6 balls
2 medium yellow onions, very thinly sliced, preferably with a mandoline, and divided into 6 equal portions
kosher salt to taste
6 slices American cheese
6 hamburger buns, toasted

Working in two batches, heat 2 tbsp of the oil in a 12" cast-iron skillet over medium-high heat. When the oil is hot and begins to smoke just slightly add 3 beef balls and, using the back of a spatula, press down on them until they're thin. Cook for 1 minute. Top each patty with a portion of the onions and season with salt. Press the onions into the meat and cook 1 minute more. Flip the burgers; flatten again with the spatula. Place a slice of cheese on each patty and let melt while onions and meat brown (you might want to cover the skillet briefly to speed up the melting of the cheese). Serve on buns. Devour.

As always, we recommend getting the beef (at least 80/20) freshly ground for you by your local butcher, or, better yet, grinding it yourself.

Makes 6 burgers.

[recipe based very, very closely on a recipe that appeared in Saveur #122, September 2009]

Then again, don't you owe yourself a visit to a true burger mecca?

White Manna, 358 River Street, Hackensack, NJ, (201) 342-0914

aj

* Of course, you might also want White Mana, White Manna's Jersey City rival. And you may very well want both.

** Note the size of the burger in relation to the size of the pickle slices. That said, they're only as dainty as a tiny onion burger slathered in melted cheese, ketchup, and hot sauce can be.

fig. e: Little Tavern, Silver Spring, MD

*** A case in point: the Little Tavern chain of hamburger joints, which originated in Louisville, KY, but became a mid-Atlantic institution in the 1930s and 1940s, principally in the Washington-Baltimore metro area (where these green and white cottages were an important part of the cultural landscape of my youth). At one point there were nearly 50 Little Taverns; now they're all gone (although many of the locations live on in other incarnations). They, too, made miniature hamburgers, burgers so small (and so tasty), patrons were encouraged to "buy 'em by the bag" (their tag line). For truly comprehensive coverage of the Little Tavern chain then and now, check out this post from the Diner Hunter blog.

Guys & Doll

Burger lovers,

As you may have heard, there's a new outfit in town, and this time it's one of America's premium chains. Even with the glut of burger joints we've got at present--high, low, and in between--someone has decided that Montreal is ready for a nouveau concept, a nouveau système. But whose? White Castle? Krystal? In-n-Out? Nope, Arlington, Virginia's very own 5 Guys Burgers and Fries, the chain that reputedly holds the distinction of being President Obama's favourite burger (or, at least, one of them).

Now, 5 Guys have yet to actually make it to the island of Montreal, but they have set up shop in the area, and are poised for a glorious entrance into Montreal proper. Their first regional franchise--the first in Eastern Canada--is in Vaudreuil, just minutes from both the 20 and the 40 to the west of the island. But apparently 5 Guys are planning to go toe-to-toe with the big boys and open a location in Old Montreal sometime in the very near future.

AEB received an invitation to sample the 5 Guys experience firsthand, so that's exactly what we did. We assembled a seasoned team of burger lovers--3 guys and 1 doll--and we took the mobile unit out to Vaudreuil to check out 5 Guys.

Observations:

The first thing you notice is the red check interior.

fig. a: 5 Guys spuds

The next thing you notice are the matching stacks of Idaho spuds, just waiting to be transformed into 5 Guys famous fries.

fig. b: 5 Guys goobers

After that, you notice the complimentary goobers, which are there to keep you occupied while you wait for your freshly prepared 5 Guys burger to be assembled.

5 Guys burgers fall into two categories: double-pattied hamburgers, cheeseburgers, bacon burgers, and bacon cheeseburgers, and single-pattied little hamburgers, little cheeseburgers, little bacon burgers, and little bacon cheeseburgers. It's a little confusing, I know, but that's how 5 Guys rolls--their standard burger consists of two hefty patties. Regular toppings include mayo, ketchup, mustard, relish, onions, grilled onions, lettuce, pickles, tomatoes, grilled mushrooms--so an "all-dressed" would consist of all of the above. Specialty toppings include jalapeño peppers, A-1 sauce, BBQ sauce, and hot sauce. All toppings--both regular and specialty--are free.

Fries come in two varieties: regular and Cajun.

The preferred beverage is Coca-Cola.

Place your order and you help set an entire team of food service professionals into a frenzy of activity. Burgers are fried and assembled in the open, behind a glass partition, and the impression that's given is of an organization whose execution is almost military-like, with a general keeping the grunts in precise order.

5 Guys patties are sizable, and their fries also take a little bit longer than your usual fast food fare, so there's a bit of a wait between ordering and receiving, and you actually have to wait until your number is called, but you've got the goobers to keep you company and this is still definitely fast food.

fig. c: 5 Guys bacon cheeseburger

And the burger? With two hefty patties, and a whole lot of toppings, the standard 5 Guys burger has a considerable amount of girth to it. I'd even venture to call it a whopper. It's tasty, too. The next time I'd lay off of the cheese (which didn't appear to be Kraft singles, unfortunately) and just go with a bacon burger, and I found my grilled onions a little anemic (not caramelized the way I like them), and most of us agreed that the bun should have had some more substance to it, but this was definitely not your standard chain burger (which is one of the reasons it's not priced like one). 5 Guys prides itself on its freshness, and on that count, and others, they delivered.

The fries? Neither Michelle nor I were crazy about their Cajun spices, but the fries themselves were quality. Not quite like Al's, at their finest, but a cut above your average chain fries.

Will 5 Guys make it in the Montreal market? They might catch a little flak from the Language Police, but otherwise I have a feeling they're going to do just fine.

Will I join Obama and declare 5 Guys my #1 burger? All I'm going to say is that President Obama has obviously never had an AEB burger.

5 Guys Burgers and Fries, 54 Boul. de la Cité des Jeunes, Vaudreuil-Dorion, QC, (450) 510-0710

aj

PS--We weren't the only ones who were curious. Check out a full report on 5 Guys at the new & improved Montreal Burger Report.

Escape to L.A., rev. ed.

fig. a: L.A. by night

It took about 18 hours, but, suddenly, there I was, in Downtown L.A.

fig. b: continental divide

I'd had a particularly scenic transcontinental flight, one that provided stunning views of the Rockies, and an equally stunning sunset descent over L.A. county and into LAX.

fig. c: Standing Rib, 1962

I didn't fully realize it at the time, but a print by Roy Lichtenstein that I saw in the Museum of Contemporary Art's 30-year retrospective on my first day in L.A. proved to be emblematic, as you'll see.

fig. d: Cole's by night

For my very first meal, I walked from my hotel on South Grand to Cole's on 6th to have my very first authentic L.A. French Dip sandwich. Cole's is one of the two Downtown L.A. establishments that claims to have invented the French Dip sandwich over a century ago now, back in 1908.

fig. e: Cole's by Cole's

Cole's is definitely the hipper of the two, and the joint was jumping when I arrived: the stereo was cranked up, the drinks were flowing, and the crowd was young and happening. Despite their insistence that the City of Los Angeles authenticated their claim to being the "originators of the French dip" back in the 1970s, Cole's definitely comes across as the challenger at the moment. This isn't a bad thing. It's made them hungrier to assert themselves. So the place was given a loving restoration a few years ago. And they also picked up an executive chef. But, more importantly, it's made them very assertive with their menu. Their house mustard is a potent, horseradish-laced, "Atomic" concoction. Their pickles are homemade, half-sour, and chili-laced--not for the faint of heart. They, too, have been given the (well-deserved) "Atomic" moniker. Their beef French dip sandwich is a hefty, freshly carved number that comes with the jus served demurely on the side. In other words, here you dip the sandwich yourself, according to your whims. Beer selection is good, with three Germans (Bitburger, Spaten, and Franziskaner) and Anchor Steam (on tap) being among the highlights. The bar is an early-20th-century classic and it's fully loaded to boot.

fig. f: neon market

The Grand Central Market has been a Downtown L.A. institution for roughly 90 years now. My camera might have been attracted to the China Cafe and its iconic, Edward Hopper-esque

CHOP SUEY
CHOW MEIN

sign, but I was on the prowl for tacos--fish tacos, quite specifically--so I made a beeline to Maria's Fresh Seafood. The majority of my compadres were having seafood caldos, and they looked and smelled delicious, but I went with the fish taco special: two fish tacos, salad, salsa, crema, beans, and rice, all for a fiver. So simple, so satisfying, so good.

fig. g: all aboard!

Later that day was the splurge of the trip: dinner for three at the Pacific Dining Car. At 89 years old, the Pacific Dining Car is another venerable L.A. institution. The Pacific Dining Car has a reputation for being one of the city's finest steakhouses, but it's also known for its main dining room, which simulates the interior of an early-20th-century railway dining car, as well as its associations with the writer James Ellroy. The Pacific Dining Car is something of an anomaly among high-class restaurants: it's open 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, and it has a special late-night menu that's made it popular with the city's nighthawks. Dinner consisting of a 16-ounce ribeye (cooked a perfect medium-rare), creamed spinach, a salad, a nice bottle of wine, and some impeccable service was pricey, but, man, did it ever hit the spot. The only disappointment: no sign of the "demon dog of American crime fiction."

fig. h: the big and the small 1

Bottega Louie is an oddly named restaurant with a choice Downtown location, a fancy Italian pizza oven, a full-size, open-format kitchen, an open-format pastry kitchen, a bar/café area, a massive, sprawling floor plan, towering 50-foot ceilings, and a veritable army of waitstaff. How they've managed to survive the Great Recession, I have no idea. Must have something to do with their appealing menu, because Bottega Louie is packing 'em in. I was so overwhelmed by the immensity of the operation, that the only photograph I took was of the miniature Tabasco sauce bottle that came with my brunch.

The brunch menu had so many tantalizing options that I actually had a hard time making a selection. I ended up settling on the scrambled eggs with burrata, pancetta, caramelized cippolini onions, and oyster mushrooms, and I was happy I did.

fig. i: étude en jaune

Bottega Louie's pastry division specializes in macarons. Our favorite was the lemon, which also made for a good photograph.

fig. j: Park's by Park's

Between Saveur's Los Angeles issue and my friend MS's 411, I had more Koreatown tips than I knew what to do with. Never did get around for going for KFC (Korean fried chicken), but I did make it out for Korean BBQ with a gang of fellow travelers. We could see and smell all kinds of delicacies as we waited to be seated. (Actually, the wonderful aromas began from the moment we got out of our taxi.) But Park's marbled short ribs looked particularly tantalizing and came highly recommended. In addition to the short ribs, we ordered marinated shrimp and bulgogi. Later, I was kicking myself for not ordering the pork belly, which got raves in Saveur. There was a moment there, right after we ordered, when we panicked, thinking we needed to order some vegetables to go along with all that meat. Then I realized, this is a Korean BBQ restaurant--the condiments are coming. In fact, the folks at Park's covered our table with more condiments than I've ever seen. And seconds later the first of our mains--the short ribs--were sizzling away on our tables built-in grill. From the moment we wrapped our first lettuce leaves and rice wrappers around those tender morsels of meat smothered in Korean pickles of all sorts, we were hooked.

fig. k: orange, bowl

Coming from the relative deprivation of Canada in late-winter, the Hollywood Farmers' Market was a vision of plenitude that I found a bit overwhelming. Just the citrus alone was more than I could handle. All those varieties of oranges, tangerines, grapefruit, and lemons, all ripe and sweet and bursting with flavor. The daisy tangerines, in particular, tasted like nectar. Then there were the nuts--pistachios and almonds, in particular. And the dried fruit, including Mission figs the likes of which I'd never had before. And then there was all the stuff I couldn't even bear to look at--fruits, vegetables, herbs, cheeses, etc.--seeing as I was going to be back on a plane 12 hours later. What I did take advantage of were the tamales with green chiles, ricotta, and queso, and a rich, expertly made macchiato from Cafécito Organico, who have a shop in Silver Lake, but who go to the trouble of setting up an espresso machine on wheels, as it were, at the market. Ah, California!

fig. l: showtime!

Buzzing with vitamin C and high on caffeine, I made my way into Hollywood. The L.A. Marathon was on and the tail end of the pack was making its way down Hollywood Boulevard, so the streets were closed off to anything but pedestrian traffic.

fig. m: transference

I checked out a few Hollywood pilgrimage points, like the Egyptian/American Cinémathèque and Musso & Frank's Grill, and when I got to Grauman's Chinese Theater I witnessed a peculiar act of transference: a man was posing for a photograph in the Forecourt of the Stars, his hand placed carefully in Al Pacino's handprint.

fig. n: burger by Umami Burger

A couple of hours later, I'd made my way back to Space 15Twenty, adjacent to the Hollywood Farmer's Market, so that I could experience my very first Umami Burger. I considered having the signature Umami Burger, with its famed "umami x 6" flavor explosion, and I contemplated the SoCal Burger, with butter lettuce, oven-dried tomato spread, house-made American cheese, and caramelized, but ultimately I went with the Hatch Burger, which marries 4 different types of roasted green chiles with UB's house cheese. I'm happy to say that Umami Burger's Hatch Burger lived up to all expectations (and with all the hype surrounding UB these days, expectations were high). The patty was gigantic, tender, barely holding together, nice and rare, and juicy as all get-out. The bun was simple, but fresh, toasted, and tasty, and perfectly capable of holding the contents together. The toppings were dreamy. I ate the whole thing in about 32.3 seconds, and that was only because I made a conscious effort to "take my time." I had to restrain myself from ordering a second burger for dessert.

fig. o: the big and the small 2

Just when you thought I couldn't possibly eat any more beef on a 3-day furlough, I closed out my all-too-brief culinary tour of Los Angeles with a trip to Philippe's to try out their interpretation of the French Dip sandwich. Yes, Philippe's is the other Downtown L.A. establishment that claims to have invented the French Dip or French-dipped sandwich back in 1908, the place the folks at Cole's refer to as "that other downtown sandwich shop." Philippe's functions counter-style, they have sawdust on the floor, they house a satellite exhibit of the Los Angeles Railroad Heritage Foundation in their back room, and they serve their sandwiches pre-dipped (to order). The vibe is both more family-friendly and more old-school than Cole's; it's not nearly as hip. Philippe's mustard may not be "atomic," but, by God, it too is "hot... but good!" And their French-dipped beef sandwich was delicious--a little messier than their competitor's, perhaps, but it didn't last long enough to become an issue. I'm not one to waffle when it comes to these kinds of debates--I tend to have strong opinions about such things--but, I have to say: I liked them both, they both had their charms. And, to be honest, I don't really care who the true originator is. I'm not an Angeleno, so I'm not all that invested in the issue. I'm just glad they're both still around, still a vital part of L.A.'s downtown dining scene over 100 years after they first opened their doors.

I really didn't intend for my Escape to L.A. to turn into a 3-day beef binge (with just a couple brief interludes), but sometimes you just gotta go with the flow. Plus, maybe this is could be the beginning of a themed series on L.A. Here's hoping. Think of the possibilities: L.A. Pork, L.A. Fish, L.A. Vegetables, L.A. Bread...

Addendum:

fig. p: chocoholics, report!

If you're in Los Angeles in the next little while, do make a point of visiting the Museum of Contemporary Art's phenomenally rich and varied "Collection: MOCA's First 30 Years." Not only will you get to see Lichtenstein's Standing Rib, alongside works by Warhol, Arbus, Frank, Stella, Levitt, Rauschenberg, Matta-Clark, Goldin, Judd, Smithson, Baltz, Berman, and many, many others, but you'll have the opportunity to immerse yourself in the considerable sensorial pleasures of Ed Ruscha's Chocolate Room (yes, that's actual chocolate lining the walls).

fig. q: the gang's all here!

And if you're already Downtown, and you're something of a film buff, you might want to pop in to the Biltmore Hotel to visit their gallery of photographs documenting the many Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences awards ceremonies that were held there between the early 1930s and the early 1940s.

Cole's, 118 East 6th Street, Los Angeles (Downtown), (213) 622-4090

Maria's Fresh Seafood, Grand Central Market, 317 S. Broadway, Los Angeles (Downtown), (213) 624-2378

Pacific Dining Car, 1310 West 6th Street, Los Angeles (Downtown), (213) 483-6000

Bottega Louie, 700 South Grand Avenue, Los Angeles (Downtown), (213) 802-1470

Park's BBQ, 955 South Vermont Avenue, Los Angeles (Koreatown), (213) 380-1717

Hollywood Farmers' Market, Ivar & Selma Avenue, Los Angeles (Hollywood), (323) 463-3171

Umami Burger, 1520 North Cahuenga Blvd., Los Angeles (Hollywood), (323) 469-3100 [with other locations on South LaBrea and on Hollywood Blvd.]

Philippe's, a.k.a. Philippe The Original, 1001 North Alameda St., Los Angeles (Downtown), (213) 628-3781

aj

Top Ten #33

1. Michelle and Philip Wojtowicz and Michael Gilson with Catherine Price, The Big Sur Bakery Cookbook: A Year in the Life of a Restaurant

2. Steve Earle, Townes

3. The AEB Burger



4. Fitzcarraldo, dir. Herzog + My Best Fiend, dir. Herzog (again)



5. Pylon, Chomp More

6. Lièvre à la royale + smoked suckling pig dinner for two, Joe Beef

7. Rosanne Cash, "Girl From the North Country," The List + Bob Dylan, "Girl From the North Country," The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan + Bob Dylan & Johnny Cash, "Girl From the North Country," 1969

8. Fleisher's Grass-Fed and Organic Meats, Kingston, NY

9. Strongtree Organic Coffee Roasters, Hudson, NY



10. Top Hat (a.k.a. Sombrero de Copa), dir. Sandrich

aj

AEB classics #87: the AEB Burger

We've been pretty serious about our burgers for a while now, but when we got a meat grinder attachment for our standing mixer, things got even more serious. In fact, the burgers that have resulted have been seriously outstanding, taking our deluxe home burger to new heights.

What are the keys to a full-on AEB Burger? The quality of the meat, the fat content, salting the meat 24 hours in advance, grinding the meat fresh, and forming the patties just so, without overworking them. Then there's the buns--always crucial. And while this burger is so good it doesn't require a whole lot of fixings, we really don't make burgers that often, so we'll be damned if we're not going put out a nice spread so that we can turn that burger into a gloriously overstuffed mess.

The AEB Burger

2 lbs beef chuck from a reputable butcher, roughly 20% fat content
kosher salt

If you're grinding your own beef, 24 hours before you make your burgers, salt your beef generously, and keep it in the refrigerator overnight.

fig. a: chuck

special equipment: a meat grinder
freshly ground black pepper
4 tbsp unsalted butter, portioned into four pats of butter

The next day, grind your meat twice through your meat grinder (we have two attachments for our grinder, and we use the coarser of the two). Season the meat with black pepper (remember, you've already salted the meat--no need to do it again).

fig. b: freshly ground chuck

Obviously, if you don't have a meat grinder, just start the recipe here. Try and get the best, freshest ground chuck you can find. You'll be missing out on the added value of salting the meat 24 hours in advance, but you'll still wind up with a great burger (just remember to salt each patty a bit when you season them).

Separate the beef into four portions. Gently form each portion of beef into a patty, making sure to place a pat of butter inside each of your patties. [The butter will baste the meat from the inside as it cooks.] Use just enough pressure to form the ground beef into a patty, and no more. Avoid overworking the meat. Set aside.

fig. c: freshly fried smoky bacon

4 strips of good, smoky bacon

Fry up your bacon in a large cast-iron pan until your strips are crispy. Set aside.

4 quality hamburger buns

Slice your buns and plate them.

fig. d: pickled onions

Now, lay out your hamburger fixings.

We recommend:
Boston lettuce
sliced beefsteak tomatoes (if in season, which they absolutely were not last, when we made the latest batch of these burgers, so we excluded tomatoes altogether)
sliced pickled cucumbers
pickled onions
pickled green tomato chow chow
mayonnaise
quality mustard
ketchup, preferably homemade

Whatever you settle on, your fixings tables should convey plenitude. It should look something like this:

fig. e: hamburger fixings

Fresh French fries are awfully nice, but a good potato chip can do the trick too. We're particularly fond of Covered Bridge (Hartland, NB) brand at the moment.

fig. f: real potato chips

special equipment: large pan, preferably cast-iron
a large lid that fits the pan
4 slices of cheese, preferably something interesting but not overwhelming, like an aged cheddar or a caraway gouda (yes!)

Now it's time to cook up your burgers. Choose the largest cast-iron pan you have on hand. If it's the one you cooked the bacon in, set it a notch above medium heat. If it's not the one you cooked the bacon in, transfer the bacon fat to the pan and turn the heat to a notch above medium heat. When the pan is good and hot, place all four of your patties in at once. The pan should be hot enough to make the patties sizzle on contact. Let the patties sizzle for 3 minutes without moving them or flattening them. Flip the patties over and cook for another 3 minutes. The patties should have a nice deep crust on them, but they shouldn't be overly blackened. When the second 3 minutes are up, flip the patties again, turn the heat down to low, cover the pan and cook for 2 minutes. Make sure your cheese slices are ready. When the 2 minutes are up, flip the patties again, cover them with cheese, cover with the lid again, and cook for a final 2 minutes. The patties should be perfectly medium-rare after this final 2 minutes.

Place each patty on a bun, adorn with a slice of bacon, and serve, allowing your dining companions to dress their burgers according to their own whims. (Mine: lettuce, pickled onions, chow chow, mayonnaise, strong Belgian mustard, and an occasional dab of homemade ketchup.)

The finished product should look something like this, and it should look and smell so crazy-good that you just start chomping, possibly without even remembering to put your lettuce inside your burger first.

fig. g: burger time

Your burger should taste so crazy-good, that just thinking about it, days later, drives you, well, crazy. Seriously crazy.

Fully satisfies 4.

Got your own burger dos and don'ts? By all means, send 'em in.

aj

ps--Thanks to Judy Rodgers' Zuni Cafe Cookbook for the tips on purchasing, salting, and grinding our beef, and to Saveur's "The Burger Bible" issue (our fave issue of 2009) for the "pat of butter" tip and a whole lot of inspiration.