Archive for the ‘Columbus, Ohio’ Category

Of God and Salads.

April 3, 2012

My interest in food that originates from the ground (and not, let’s say, the teet or the slaughterhouse) is relatively new. I remember interviewing a coworker about her favorite types of food and typing, with disgust, that she loves Spring and Summer because of the wares from her garden. She was team veggie. I was team butter-rosemary-garlic-chicken-pork. Especially pork.

Two things changed. First, this damn locavore movement. I’d made some recent life decisions that propelled me from everything I’d known for three years. (I left a church.) Somehow I knew that my next step in life would involve community and food. I whimpered a few blocks over to my friend Susan (a master of both) who thrust that Pollan book into my hands. I’d be studying a new gospel.

Second, a prescription. Over the years, my experimentation with fresh produce brought me to an understanding with the Lord that heartburn and itchy lips were a sign from above that I should not veer from my butter-rosemary-garlic-chicken-pork diet. In an act of defiance, I stumbled from my faith in pork and tried modern science. And my doctor giveth me Prilosec. And I was happy. (And fatter; not only could I consume tomatoes without pain, but also white wine: an entire food group I’d been fasting from for years.)

And guess what? Now I like salads! (And butter-rosemary-garlic-chicken-pork. You can like both! There’s a gray area in life, a concept that I’ve paid many a shrink to help me discover.)

There’s also a pink area. And a gooey and awesome bright yellow area, once you break open that heavenly soft poached egg (that somehow went straight from one of God’s creatures and directly into the kitchen at Sage American Bistro). This, friends, is my favorite salad in Columbus. It combines animals and plants. There’s no dilemma here: just eat it in a way that doesn’t involve lifting the plate and dumping it directly into your mouth. Try to use utensils. Each bite magically contains hearty smoky bacon in thick but bite-size pieces, that aforementioned warm egg, soft hidden morsels of goat cheese, pickled onion, freshly cracked peper and a tangy dressing. It’s cool. It’s warm. All salads should be like this. And once Michael Pollan is President of Food, Chef Glover needs to be given some sort of cabinet position involving pork.

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Friday Five: Winter Hashes.

February 24, 2012

When I see caprese salad, asparagus with hollandaise or cucumber salad on a winter menu, I mentally categorize the dining establishment as one of those whose walk-in coolers are filled to the brim with plastic containers of pre-made distributor-sourced foodstuffs. Side dishes speak volumes about how a restaurant sources its food and what makes a chef tick. Coleslaw year round? That guy spends his free time watching Dancing with the Stars. He drives an SUV and only gets emotional during professional sporting events. The chef who dabbles in broccoli rabe, kale and the beloved tuber lives a different sort of life. He (or she) probably dabbled in the arts — french horn? pottery? poetry? — before deciding to make a living hovering over his (or her) knives and cutting board, turning brussels sprouts and smoked meats from single notes to entire symphonies.

While there’s a difference between seasonal and local on a menu, my respect goes out to those who attempt one or both.

I’m not the most astute at observing (or writing about) trends, but I’ve noticed that the potato, in hash form, has received much attention on my favorite menus this winter. Has it always been there, and I’m just starting to notice? I can’t say. But it’s the perfect venue for cool weather veggies and my treasured winter meats, and is often the reason I choose a dish. Like snowflakes, each is unique. Let’s take a look.

1. Short Rib Hash at Buttermilk Channel, Brooklyn

With a 2:1 beef-to-potato ratio in its hash, Buttermilk Channel — one of my favorite stops in Brooklyn — definitely knows how to make a potato seem glamorous. Served alongside lightly dressed greens, the dish is well balanced: heavy meets light, green meets beige and brown. The beef is seasoned with cinnamon and topped with a salted egg. And the soft texture of the potatoes is embellished with crispy bits of beef, scraped from the bottom of the pan, reminiscent of childhood dinners of pot roast. And if one can ever be excited about carrots, this is the time.

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Delicious Transition.

January 23, 2012

One of my favorite Twitter hashtags is #firstworldproblems. For the Twitter uninitiated, it’s typically used when someone is complaining about bourgeois or tedious day-to-day issues that are not actually problems, a self-effacing nod to having the good life. So when I say that I needed a vacation from my vacation, I hereby acknowledge the ridiculousness of the statement. Nonetheless, it was true. After ten days of non-stop travel (during half of those one or both of us were sick), Ben and I needed a way to recover from our trip to London. We needed to rest. Luckily, I’d anticipated this happening, and booked a weekend stay at the Inn at Cedar Falls for the weekend after we’d return home.

This? It’s the opposite of the near panic attack I had on an over-crowded, over-heated Picadilly line where I accidentally stepped on a woman’s foot before hitting her head with my bag. And, happily, it’s only about an hour and a half from my house. In recent experiences, a trip to the destinations within the Hocking Hills of Southeast Ohio can seem like a trip to Disney World, with lines of crying children and gossipy octogenarians. And to be honest, Cedar Falls (which incidentally, has no cedars nearby), was no different.

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Occupy The Coop.

November 21, 2011

It’s a strange thing, I think. My neighborhood houses some of the most creative, passionate and interesting foodies, food writers and food innovators in Columbus. What Clintonville lacks, though, are great dining establishments. It seems that for every Sage American Bistro, Ray Ray’s Hog Pit and Alana’s, we have four or five fast food chains or straight-from-the-GFS-can joints lining our streets. So when food trucks arrived to my part of the city, tipping the fare scale from “boring” and “meh” to “interesting” and “delicious”, our elected officials’ first impulse was to enforce obsolete laws that push them out of our area.

Perhaps The Coop’s location at Cliffside and Indianola is too close to the Clintonville border with Old North Columbus for our legislators to care. Or perhaps relying on the oncoming cold weather was an easier food truck deterrent. (Sound familiar, anyone?) I’m not sure why the relatively new truck owned and operated by Angie Theado seems immune to archaic laws, but I am thrilled to have this truck as a dining option in my neighborhood.

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Beyond the Savings.

November 8, 2011

My opinions on restaurant week(s) are similar to those on Groupon and programs of similar ilk. While I enjoy the savings (and the special menus), I think it’s important to patronize the small businesses (and locally-owned restaurants) not only during great deals, but when they’re not offering deep discounts. Simple as that. Nonetheless, I do enjoy the dining programs, because they do give me an excuse to get out and enjoy some of my favorite restaurants during the week and because I get to see said restaurants busy on a Monday evening. Last night, a group of us headed over to DeepWood to experience their $20 three course Dine Originals Week menu. Below are a few pictures of what’s in store for folks who are tempted to do the same.

I chose the ravioli (filled with bacon and leeks) for my starter. The rich filling perfectly complemented the smoky tomato sauce.

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Friday Five: Things I’ve Eaten Recently.

October 14, 2011

Today’s Friday Five could easily have a million titles. Things I Crave Right Now. Things to Eat on a Rainy Autumn Evening. Why Columbus is Delicious. Browse below as you take a trip through my recent culinary adventures in the Capital city.

1. Pho at Buckeye Pho.

The city’s newest pho and bahn mi joint is only a couple of miles from my house, and I couldn’t be happier. Is it as good as my beloved Mi Li Cafe? I’ve only had one visit and feel unprepared to make a verdict. My first encounter was pretty damn good, though.

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To Brunch or Not To Brunch.

September 26, 2011

I have a love-hate relationship with brunch, and I often find myself writing a pro/con list in my head on the days that time allows such a luxury. My con list is long. Brunch food is often over-priced. If it’s good (locally-sourced, contains goat cheese and a patio is involved), there’s usually a wait. And there’s the sweat pants factor; by choosing to go to brunch, I’m committing to getting out of bed and moving forward in my day like a real life adult. Going out to brunch means that day-long Mad Men marathons get put on hold, and that I have to brush my teeth and leave the house. (Tell me I’m not alone in this.) And as a rule, the more awesome the brunch place, the farther it is from Clintonville. (Skillet, Katalina’s Cafe Corner, The Worthington Inn.)

There are cons to staying in, as well, though most of them deal with the lack of a bartender to deliver bloody marys and mimosas to my table. (There’s also the clean up process; I end up using every utensil in my house when I make brunch.) And when I dine at home, I’m much more likely to spill French press in my bed (where I’ll retreat post-meal for *just one more* Mad Men episode.)

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Day Trip.

September 21, 2011

A couple weeks ago, a beautiful Saturday afternoon with absolutely no engagements made itself available. As there’s nothing better than an unplanned day trip, Ben and I decided to go forth and explore. After some discussion of the allures of both Yellow Springs and Granville, we chose the latter. Dawes Arboretum and Brews Cafe both weighed heavily in its favor. (And the promise of the soon-to-come autumn foliage in Yellow Springs turned the either-or conversation into a now-later conversation.)

Our day trip, it turned out, collided with the Hot Licks Bluesfest, so most of our time walking the idyllic streets of Granville was accompanied by live music. We certainly didn’t mind. When I think of Granville, I think of the yearly OEFFA conference held at its high school, and of the city’s fight to provide locally grown products to the children in its education system. I was disappointed not to find a few Casa-like hippie joints to lining the streets. The most advertised option for locally-sourced dining outside of the lunch room was out of our price range. Instead we had a brunch that would be better suited for meheats.com, (an often-talked-about, but yet-to-be-created blog showcasing the best of the meh).

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Pizza Harvest.

September 12, 2011

I’m not sure how folks mark the change from summer to autumn outside of Columbus, Ohio. The season is thrust upon us (whether or not the weather wants to cooperate) with the emergence of football season. Love it or hate it, high school and college football games become the center of my culture. And with the games come a new type of seasonal eating: pizza. This week, Maya and I are celebrating this any-season-but-best-in-autumn dish on Itinerant Foodies. Expect a little controversy (she’s very particular on what constitutes a “correct” pizza) and some zesty prose on this all-American favorite.

As a foodie in Columbus, I’m spoiled; rarely do I have to wait for a seat in my favorite restaurants. I did not fully realize this until I visited Harvest Pizzeria in German Village. While it’s typical for eateries in this part of the city to be filled to the brim, I was faced with such a wide demographic of eaters that one of two things must be true: either Columbus is starting to appreciate local fare or German Village is extremely hungry (pardon the pun) for a solid pizzeria.

The concept behind Harvest Pizzeria is simple: wood fired specialty pizzas are made with local ingredients and served alongside classic cocktails and salads in a hip and bustling atmosphere. In short, this is not a Friday Night Pizza Joint filled with preteens — or pre-made sauces. It’s quite the opposite. The drinks and dishes are designed for adults. And that heavenly tomato sauce? It’s made by hand from home grown tomatoes.

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Vienna Walk.

July 13, 2011

Every neighborhood should have an ice cream place within walking distance. It doesn’t matter what kind—Dairy Queen is just as good as a boutique parlor—but  there’s something lovely about seeing families in line and sticky children, the ones who haven’t quite mastered the art of eating ice cream faster than it melts, sitting around the perimeter of the store. Strolling down the block for a post-dinner cone is a remnant of a bygone era, a callback to times when things were easier, so when my local Clintonville ice cream joint went out of business this past winter, I felt particularly bereft.

It wasn’t long, however, before another one filled its place. Just in time for the dog days of summer, Vienna Ice Café opened on High Street in Clintonville. Owned and operated by the folks at Mozarts, the shop makes its own ice creams, with a professed European style. (The story on their website says they went to Europe in June to research flavors. I’m open to working for anyone who wants to pay me to do the same. I will take mad notes on the essence of the European palate.)

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