Another recent experiment for a party worked quite well. I made some creamy leek and shrimp cornbread. I spiced the creamy sauce with garam masala, nutmeg, Dijon mustard, and black pepper. I will make it again and record the recipe.
The luxurious shrimp and leek sauce tastes rather exotic. Packed up and ready to party!
Most of us are familiar with spring rolls, those excellent petite eggrolls made popular in Thai and Vietnamese restaurants. Trang Viet Cuisine in Tampa boasts all four seasons on a single plate. Any lover of Asian food and finger food should try this quartet at least once. It is one of many courses I’d like to eat during my last meal.
A wise man once say: As the celestial roll angels align, four sacred sauces appear to bathe them in glory! The fried spring roll has a very delicate, flaky crust. Inside, a pork mixture with a grated sweet potato is fulfilling, but not greasy. Fish sauce accompanies. The summer roll (known as the fresh roll in many other Vietnamese restaurants), enfolds vermicelli noodles, shrimp, fresh herbs, and a slice of beef inside rice paper (a sheet of thin pasta). It began as a specialty of south Vietnam.
The summer roll’s association with the season seems appropriate– the rolls are light, fragrant with mint and basil, and very easy to eat with the rich peanut sauce. In the intense heat of summer, such light food is essential. Cousin Pam, this picture is for you!
For several years, Trang’s Autumn roll was my undisputed favorite. A specialty of central Vietnam, Trang proclaimed his version the Autumn roll. It reflects the season well, with a cool collection of lettuce, herbs, and pineapple surrounding a mixture of ground shrimp and pork hot off the grill. The contrast of hot and cool works well, and the sweetness of the pineapple plays so well with the grilled meat and herbal bouquet. Trang’s original vegetable sauce is a crafty creation. Fish sauce also plays well with the autumn roll.
The winter roll seems rather unassuming at first. But it is balanced carefully, and probably represents the most nutritious roll of the four. Another favorite of south Vietnam inspired Trang’s mixture of grated jicama and carrot, Chinese style sausage, ground peanuts, dried shrimp, and flecks of scrambled egg. It seems light and comforting at the same time.
The Hoisin style sauce adds the perfect amount of sweet and tangy flavors to the Winter roll. It reigns as my current favorite, as well as Trang’s.
When i asked for something spicy on the menu, he ordered his mussels to my table. I had never tried them. I’m glad I did. Good God knows they’re fine. The incredibly lively sauce of citrus, chilies, onions, fish sauce, and cinnamon basil would make a great foil for grilled chicken wings. Or grilled anything. Ask for the mussels. Ask for them spicy. Tell him Andy sent you. He’ll know what to do.
PS: “He’ll know what to do.” I know that last comment was pretty cheesy, but it made me think about my favorite date or dinner party. First, I dine at Trang’s and talk to him about creating a menu. I book the table, the wine, and the meal while i enjoy lunch. Then, you just bring your guests to the table on the appointed night and Trang’s staff go to work. No need to order or even look at the menu. Of course, you want to know what the people like to eat before hand. It is an especially nice way to introduce people to Vietnamese food or show gratitude. You’re not just taking them to dinner, you’ve chosen a luxurious 4 to 6 course meal and wine as a distinct act of love.
Don’t forget the fried bananas for dessert. More about that another time.
After a tough day, it is sometimes best to take a step back, appreciate what you have, and share the love.
I did something rather silly recently, and I almost came to regret it. I offered to prepare a gumbo feast for a work-related fund raiser: The annual University of South Florida Faculty and Staff Campaign, which solicits employees to donate part of their wages to the university. I’m still quite short of my fundraising goal.
Getting coworkers to give, many of whom earn mediocre wages, is a very hard sell, especially in these tough times. But the campaign is a very noble effort, as there are so many areas of the university to celebrate and support. In my research of USF’s history, I’ve seen so many ways it has changed peoples lives from all over the world. If USF made me respectable (which is debatable), it has worked wonders, indeed.
I like my job and the people I work with, and I thought it would be fun to share something delicious with them and lay my gourmet reputation on the line. I will be serving just 30 tomorrow. Perhaps I’ve overestimated the curiosity of librarians. I know how many of my co workers eat Lean Cuisine, Subway, and McD’s on a daily. I was amazed at how few people signed on for a fine free meal prepared lovingly by a colleague.
Of course, I should be thankful that I only have 30 to serve. If it was 50 or 60 instead, I would surely have needed two nights for cooking. and two more crock pots. and much more patience. But i counted many more of my blessings as it i set out to cook the best gumbo I’d ever made. I’m given wonderful opportunities for creativity and professional growth at work, and being able to hold such an event is more a privilege than a duty.
I set out to make Gumbo Ya Ya, a Paul Prudhomme recipe made famous by a restaurant called Mr. B’s, part of the Brennan’s empire. Gumbo Ya Ya is an old New Orleans saying that refers to the loud chaotic banter of a party, with everyone talking at once. It also means everyone talking at once, the multi ethnic and multi-lingual mish mash of that unique Creole city. I adapted the dish from Emeril Lagasse’s Every Day’s a Party: Louisiana Recipes. I change the timing a bit, and don’t mess with a whole chicken, just breasts and drumsticks.
The first two times I went to New Orleans expressly for the spectacle and debauchery of Mardi Gras. I was young, thirsty, and poor. I’m so glad I rediscovered the city in subsequent visits. I found Mr. B’s Gumbo Ya Ya to be my favorite specimen. Unlike many gumbos, it calls for a very dark roux, which requires more time and diligence. I blew my first attempt to make a roux two years ago— too much heat and an inferior stock pot. Late last year, I made a passable version but scorched it while reheating. Other times, it seemed much too oily. I resolved to master Gumbo Ya Ya a couple nights before a charity event with 30 of my co-workers. Pretty stupid, huh?
Although I was grouchy after work and just wanted to take a nap, I let all that go and started to prep. I felt better the moment I turned on the heat: I focused on good things, and the challenge I so blithely charged in to.
My ingredients: 24 cups low sodium chicken stock, 3-3.5 lbs of chicken drumsticks, 3-3.5 lbs of boneless skinless chicken breasts, 6 bay leaves, 4.5 cups vegetable oil, 4.5 cups bleached all purpose flour, approx 2 lbs. andouille sausage, 4 medium diced yellow onion, 2 diced green peppers, 2 tsp cayenne pepper, 3 cups diced celery, approx 2 lbs. smoked sausage (i prefer hot), 2 bunches diced green onions, 6 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
My first impulse was to cheat and use store bought chicken stock. Instead, I compromised and poached my chicken breasts and drum sticks in the bought chicken broth with bay leaves to richen it. I set the cooked chicken aside. I especially like this method because you don’t have to pick a whole chicken apart, as the original recipe calls for. No bones, no veins, no carving, etc. This assumes importance when you’re cooking for 30 people. The breast meat– which i chopped after poaching– is good for picky eaters, and the drumsticks please those with big appetites.
As always, making the roux would be the biggest challenge. When making a roux, you are basically frying flour in an equal amount of fat at medium heat until they incorporate and make a gravy of sorts. The darkness of the roux helps dictate the depth of the flavor. If you don’t vigilantly stir, parts of the flour begin to burn, the gumbo tastes scorched, and does not hold together. Don’t get too enthusiastic and splash around— this frying paste is like kitchen napalm.
Be prepared to adjust temperature and stir constantly. I always keep my phone close by, because talking to friends and family make the half hour of stirring go by more quickly.
See the Gumbo photos here.
I’m grateful that co workers have pitched in to make salad, desserts, gourmet crackers, and bring Cuban bread and beverages. I’m also bringing a simple shrimp with mustard remoulade to serve beside the salad or on the bread. I will deploy a squadron of 2 crock pots and 3 rice cookers.
Next year, I’m thinking of having a chili contest instead. Or a pasta throwdown or something.
If you’re interested, check out USF’s Faculty and Staff Campaign while you’re at it. There are so many worthy programs for health, academics, athletics, research and especially the libraries. They are the engines of intellectual industry. and they have a lot of cool stuff.
http://usfweb2.usf.edu/fscc/CampaignInformation.asp
Forgive me if my rib tale goes on a little long, but its a tasty story worth telling.
In our hyper-materialist society, it can be easy to lose track of what family and celebrations are all about. In my youth, holidays were all about presents. In my 20s, they provided excuses to throw parties. These days, I’m most interested in good food and company. Living alone, I rarely make fancy food for myself. I require an audience if I’m going to fuss in the kitchen. There’s nothing better than an appreciative audience.
My step father is a good man, and truly treasures good food, especially barbecue, particularly pork ribs. Because Father’s Day and his birthday are so close on the calendar, we usually celebrate both at once. I never have to think of gift ideas. I do the same thing every year. I make him glorious barbecued ribs.
Sometimes my brother Tim and I surprise the old man with a new recipe, but this year, I gave him four recipes to choose from. He immediately decided upon Kansas City spareribs: rubbed with spices, smoked over wood, and sauced with a tangy concoction. The previous champ of rib recipes was Dr. BBQ’s, which is quite sweet and tender. I chose this year’s recipe from Weber’s Big Book of Grilling. It was a great bargain bin find with an impressive array of international recipes.
The most difficult part of making ribs is finding them. Many supermarket specimens are inferior with high price tags. Butchers are like mechanics: they are good to know. Unfortunately, I couldn’t make the time to go to Cacciatore Brothers in West Tampa– or better yet, George’s in St. Pete. These Publix ribs were passable, but barely: a 5 out of 10. I bought the only two racks they had. They were rather fatty, but I could work with them. I cut the racks in half to make them easier to handle. They also cook better this way: the thick side and thin side of the ribs cook at different rates, and i had limited smoker space.
Dry spice rubs are an excellent way to flavor meat. This rub works perfectly for fans of traditional barbecue. Grinding fresh spices with a mortar and pestle can be theraputic. It makes cooking more physical and the flavor more fresh. Mother nature sometimes demands it– rejoice!
For the rub: 2 tbl salt, 2tbl mild or hot Hungarian paprika, 1.5 tbl cumin, 1 tbl dry oregano, 2 tsp onion powder, 1 tsp garlic powder, 1 tsp fresh ground black pepper, half tsp ground allspice, half tsp ground cinnamon. I increased the recipe by half, but did not increase the salt.
Mix up the various spices and be sure they are evenly distributed.
Rubbing your meat is an act of love. Don’t be afraid to touch it often. I tend to be generous with the rub. Sauce cannot compete with this powder.
I had to smoke the ribs in two waves, so the thick sides when first. In the meantime, I whipped up a barbecue sauce. The veggies deliver great flavor, and I thank my brother Tim for his prep work on the sauce:
2 tbl unsalted butter, half cup diced celery, 3 tbl diced onion, 1 cup ketchup, 2 tbl fresh lemon juice, 2 tbl sugar, 2 tbl cider vinegar, 1bl Worcestershire sauce, 1 tsp dry mustard, and black pepper. Mix all and bring to a boil. Simmer on low 10-15 minutes. I used my wonderful new immersion blender to puree the mixture. The veggies dissolved into the mixture, thickening it. If you don’t have an immersion blender or food processor, try to cut the onions and celery as fine as you’re disposed.
The thick end of the ribs came out of the smoker juicy and fragrant. Note the meat receding from the bone to the left. The scorched rub spices make the ribs look burnt, but they are just fine.
Who’s your daddy, spareribs? If you like it rough, slap on the sauce with your brush. The thirsty exterior of the hot ribs drinks in the sauce quickly.
The next day, a treasured Father’s Day feast was delivered with the help of my beloved mother. Her fruity veggie slaw on the left featured fresh mango with a lively dressing. Real bacon bits brought pleasing flavors to her baked beans. The fresh corn was appreciated. I heated the ribs gently in the 350 degree oven for about 15 minutes.
Pop moaned and grunted as he tasted each layer of flavor shellacked on those ribs, one pleasant surprise after another. He tasted the love and instinctively understood. In the words of the Great Brillat-Savarin: “A man becomes a cook, but he is born a roaster of flesh.”
Mom’s raspberry cheese cake was divine.
I don’t want to feature many photos of people on this site, but the meat here seems luminous with a reddish hue. The ribs don’t look bad, either.
I didn’t leave the house until I was already ravenous. But I didn’t rush to the closest safe bet. Instead, I went to Davis Island, of all places, to try something new.
I’ve heard about Estela’s for many years, which by now is a Davis Island favorite. I know the islands are the very center of some people’s universe, but it rarely occurs to me to drive out there to eat, especially when I’m really hungry. I have a feeling that I might be doing it more often now that I’ve eaten at Estela’s. I find that Taconazo might be more my rough-hewn style, but Estela’s has a subtle charm, and its soups are perhaps the best examples. More about Taconazo another time.
A fellow historian has sworn by Estela’s chicken tortilla soup for years, and another friend especially favors the shrimp soup. The broth is subtle with tomato, minced vegetables, and herbs. i could have used a bit more fire, but that’s not unusual. The portion of shrimp was generous, as it should be for over $10. I’ve heard the price has climbed steadily as property values on the islands soared. While I will not argue with the price, having the option of a cheaper half portion would be great for people on a diet, or gluttons like myself who want to try a little of everything.
Behold, a lump of rich guacamole awaits discovery at the bottom of the bowl. It took me by surprise. The buttery richness of the guacamole puts this dish over the top, adding a new element to the dish that can be mixed according to your taste. The more you mix the guacamole into the soup, the more flavor it imparts. I think it is a better idea to serve the guacamole on the side, to be added at the patron’s discretion. I actually preferred the broth as it was, but it was interesting to note the changing flavors as i stirred in the guacamole.
The enchiladas with mole sauce were quite good, although I thought the filling could have been more generous, and the rice was plain— not bad, just plain. I like sour cream, and Estela’s guacamole is good, but the mountain of dairy on my plate, topped with a sprinkling of shredded lettuce, was far out of proportion with the enchiladas. I happen to like food with my dairy. I’d like to see the dairy served on the side and more food on the plate. A small salad would be ideal, or refried beans would do.
But i quibble. Estela’s tasted fresh, and the soups really do stand out. I’ve resolved to reconsider Davis Island a dining destination in the future. I will certainly return for another pass at Estela’s menu. I had a pleasant lunch at Chez Bryce down the street, so we haven’t heard the last burp from this part of town.
I recently visited my good friends Will and Kristin in Pinellas county. I regularly cook gourmet dinners to relieve Kristin from her cooking duties. She is a wonderful cook, but I prefer to let Kristin relax if she can. Will’s boyish outbursts increase when I visit, perhaps because we’ve been close friends since middle school. It can help to occupy Will’s time with water calistenics and constructive activities such as grilling. So I quickly put together a celebratory summer menu of comfort food.
I humbly present another summer favorite: kofta. The mixture of lamb, beef, mint, onion, garlic, and cinnamon shines best when grilled. Instead of fooling with skewers, I form the meat into larger balls for easy handling. Provided that the meatballs are formed well, they don’t fall apart when handled. Using too much onion can lead to weaker balls. It helps cohesion to dice the onion more finely than I did above.
My buddy Will is a tested grillsmith, and handled my balls quite well. The smell alone is impressive and refreshing. I’d like to have a party some day and serve only meatballs of every nationality.
I made a spiced butter mixture by browning garlic in butter. I added cayenne pepper, Old Bay seasoning, black pepper and let it cook a minute with a couple splashes of pineapple juice, about 1/4 cup. The resulting butter on the grilled shrimp proved so good that it disappeared before my camera was ready.
I prepared the lemon orzo recipe I mentioned in my last post, and it turned out better than ever. For 2 pounds of orzo, I used
1/4 stick of butter
4 cloves garlic, minced
half of a yellow onion, diced
the zest and juice of 3 lemons
1 bottle white wine (I used pinto grigio)
1/4 cup of fresh rosemary
1/2 cup fresh parsley
3 tbl black pepper
1 tbl salt
approx. 3-4 cups of low sodium chicken stock
Sautee garlic and onion with butter over medium high heat. add next 6 ingredients and reduce heat to medium. add chicken stock a cup at a time until orzo is cooked. If you feel frisky, garnish with a leittle parmesan cheese.
as a side dish, I fell back on sauteed garlic and spinach with a little butter. It works very well with the bright orzo. Toasted pita rounded out the plate. Can I get an amen? Can I get a hell yeah?
We feasted that night like a cross between Olympic athletes and Hell’s Angels. The excitement was palpable and quite palatable. It made Will and I feel like we could still do something foolish, like drink more Gumbe Smash cocktails. More about those another time.
Will soon resorted to loading up his pita with the rest of the food, which he attacked like a tipsy gorilla. His side of the table soon lay strewn with the ruins and detritus of a great meal. Lemon-scented orzo had been scattered like rosemary-flecked constellations drunk on white wine. For once, I looked like the polite fellow. We all watched bull riding, Kristin’s favorite, and Will soon fell asleep on the couch. It was soon time for dessert: 2 a.m. I’m sorry, doc. One thing led to another. At least I was in good company. Can i get an Amen?
Bring on the heat and stifling humidity. Bring on the daily subtropical rains. Bring on the roiling mosquitoes and hurricanes. Bring on the primordial cockroaches, trilobites, gnats and mole crickets. Bring on the wafts of smoke from neighbors’ grills and ripples of laughter from their children. Bring on air conditioning’s chilling throb. Bring the dull stupid thud of passing car stereos. Bring drag racing on slick shiny streets. Bring on vodka and lemonade and bright chlorine swimming pools. Bring on the women’s summer clothes, shoulderless, strapless, light playful dresses, bikinis with dangerous angles.
Bring on the summer food. Pasta salad will not get the job done tonight.
I created this meal recently with very specific flavor profiles in mind. I wanted a bright-tasting lemon, chicken stock, rosemary, and white wine orzo to compliment the earthy taste of a simple grilled steak.
The orzo turns out much like a risotto, seemingly rich and creamy without added fat. I add the stock and wine as needed, so there is no need to strain it. The flavor of the lemon juice and zest is so full that it requires very little salt. Sauteed spinach and garlic round out the plate. I only wish I had a few briny green olives to add to the plates.
I took the leftovers (steak, orzo, and spinach) and tossed them together for a fine lunch during the week. With a little parmesean cheese, it delivers all over again.
The orzo’s aroma is brilliant with lemon, white wine, garlic, and rosemary.
The light orzo serves as centerpiece for a simple plate of steak and garlic spinach.
For a gourmet lunch the following week, stir orzo, diced steak, and sauteed spinach together and add a little parmesan cheese.
Stay tuned for the recipe while i work it out. It is not revolutionary, but it works!
I wrote a variation of this article for the University of South Florida’s Oracle in 2003. It is one of my first published restaurant columns.
Trang and I have discussed writing a book together. I think it would be a wonderful project. Next, I’d like to post some excerpts of my oral history interview here. His story, traumatic and triumphant, exemplifies the American dream.
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I consider it my duty to try every off the wall restaurant I can find—the more obscure, the better. My long-standing favorite is Trang Viet Cuisine on Fowler Avenue. Most commuting USF students probably drive past it every day without knowing what they’re missing.
Trang’s is a restaurant in the true sense of the word. The term restaurant originated in Paris hundreds of years ago, and it was the name of a dish, not a place. For those who did not want to eat the heavy, greasy peasant foods at the inns and bars, or for those who had weak digestive systems, a few small cafes offered a brothy soup called restaurant—a concoction meant to “restore” ailing bodies.
A good approximation of the restaurants of the old days is Vietnamese Pho Soup. The broth is key in this dish, and is made by simmering beef bones and seasoning for a minimum of eight hours. When one orders Pho at Trang’s, you are brought a large bowl of the broth with rice noodles, kind of like ramen without any grease and minimal salt. Several paper-thin slices of raw beef are put into the piping-hot broth. By the time the bowl reaches your table, the beef is cooked. You are also brought a generous plate of bean sprouts, chilies, lime and fresh cinnamon basil to add at your discretion. The basil is essential, the sprouts add a great crunchy texture, and the chilies and lime give the broth a nice kick. Careful with the Vietnamese chilies, though, they are very potent and can overwhelm the delicate flavor of the broth.
For the less adventurous, the beef stew is wonderful, and the fried rice is fluffy with barely a trace of oil. The grilled meat skewers over rice noodles is an especially satisfying meal. The four seasons platter highlights Trang’s fabulous rolls: spring, summer, autumn and winter. They are all masterpieces of contrasting tastes, textures and sauces. In fact, you can’t go wrong with any of the appetizers, whether they are steamed buns, fried calamari, or stuffed chicken wings.
The quality of Trang’s food can be traced back to several sources. Trang grows his own herbs and some of his own vegetables on his farm in Lutz. Somehow, American cuisine missed out on herbs almost entirely, which is a shame. The fresh taste they impart cannot be beaten. The flavors are authentic and subtle. You taste the food and nothing more—no powdered stocks or heavy spicing to cover up inferior ingredients. The restaurant uses little or no oil. Unlike Chinese cookery, which bases entire dishes and sauces on the liberal use of oil, Vietnamese food often uses broths, infusions and salty fish sauce to moisten its dishes. Few menu items are fried at all. In addition, Trang has a great variety of vegetarian and vegan menu items. Many of the dishes use marinated and grilled tofu in place of meat. Unfortunately for you meatless people, dishes like Pho Soup cannot be replicated without meat, and they do not appear on the veggie menu.
The good news does not stop here, though. Trang offers great lunch specials before 3pm—soup, appetizer, and entrée for a mere $5.45 [these days, I think it is $6.25, still a great deal]. Just turn to the back of the menu.
Perhaps the most remarkable thing about the restaurant is the odyssey of the owner, Trang Viet. He grew up under French colonial domination, fled Communist incursions, joined the South Vietnamese army at the height of the war, attended school here in the U.S. as the war ended, and finally enabled his family to join him here in Tampa. Keep in mind that Trang gave up a lucrative career in computer programming just to open a restaurant with his family. How lucky we are.
Trang Viet Cusine
1524 E. Fowler Avenue
(813) 979-1464
I enjoyed a nice lunch at one of my stand-bys, Trang Viet Cuisine. Trang is a very nice guy and has carved out a niche of food lovers. His vegetarian and vegan menu is extensive and tasty. He grows much of the herbs and produce himself. I’m convinced that Trang and I could write a great book about his amazing odyessey and the things he learned about food on the way. I will write a full profile of Trang and his restaurant soon.
His lunch specials run about $6.25 for entree, soup and appetizer. Forget the chains– I don’t know any that could deliver such quality of flavor and ingredients for the same price. As starters, I had the summer roll (or fresh/spring roll) with peanut sauce and the sour shrimp soup. The porous-looking sliced vegetable in the soup is the stalk of an elephant-ear variety from Vietnam. The meatballs consist of ground shrimp.
Trang’s beef with lemongrass is one of my favorites, especially for lunch. For a lighter version, I substitute the vermicelli with shredded cabbage. The texture and flavor are great, but it doesn’t fill me up as long as the noodles.
