Category Archives: Food

Ted’s writings about local foods

Invertebratarians, Like Me

Food,

G&M crab cake with two sides
When did I become a vegetarian? I am asked that even more frequently than “why.” The answer to the two questions is the same. My wife, Virginia, returned home one evening, about 30 years ago, and stated that we would no longer eat meat. She asked “how did I feel?” Chicken? Nada. Fish? Zip. My cooking skills are absent. As a bachelor I survived on fried wiener sandwiches, Vienna sausages (which my Dad still calls “vienners”), frozen chicken pot pies, and Wolf brand chili. Love to, dear.

For the past 30 years I have been meatless and guiltless. Yet over the past couple of years I have begun to slip, to stray. I am off the meatless wagon. I can finally admit that I am an invertebratarian. I consume animals without a face, a mother, or a backbone.

What is in the invertebrate mix? Shrimp. Crab. Oysters. Bamboo grubs in China. Fried grasshoppers in Mexico. No backbone, no problem.

Woodrow (my younger grandson) and I finished our DC trip last week back at BWI. We could not make the last flight home on Wednesday, so we stayed at the airport and left early Thursday morning. A night at BWI means only one thing to us invertebratarians – G&M crab cakes in Linthicum.

In the late 1970s I lived in Columbia, Maryland, for a year. Being pre-Virginia, I enjoyed all of the Maryland coast seafood I could ingest. I lunched on crab soup each afternoon at the Lexington Market. I would count the days until the soft shell crab season on the Eastern Shore. And what can compare to a plate of steamed blue crabs on butcher paper with a pitcher of brew?

I also discovered Maryland crab cakes. Not the Gulf coast kind of my childhood, a flattened patty of filler with a smattering of crab. Maryland crab cakes are constructed of fresh crab meat with only enough binder to hold the mound from toppling.

There are three restaurants in the Baltimore area that serve authentic Maryland crab cakes (or at least three that I have found). One is in Dundalk, one near Harborplace (Little Italy), and the best, in my opinion, is in Linthicum.

You judge a crab shack first by the clientèle. Is there a waiting list (leave if the answer to the first question is no). Are most of the people in the restaurant curvilinear? Is there a healthy mix of ethnicities? Is the average age of a waitress over 60? Is the Baltimore or Eastern Shore accent so dense that you need a translator? If the answer to all of these is yes, you are in for a treat.

G&M is the iconic Maryland crab cake restaurant. All others are measured against G&M. Although G&M expanded a few years ago, you should insist on eating in one of the original dining rooms. Notice that the decor is decidedly ’50s. The flowers on the table are fake, the art on the walls is from the Walmart gallery, and within five minutes of being seated you will hear Dean Martin on the jukebox. Perfect!

G&M crab cake
The crab cakes? The absolute best. A G&M cake is all crab with no leftover dressing from Thanksgiving to hold it together. The sides are traditional – cole slaw and french fries. Keep it simple, and you will taste Chesapeake Bay in that mountain of blue crab on your plate. Also notice that you see no tartar sauce in the photograph. You will have to request it. G&M is confident that their crab cakes will hold their own without being doused in mayonnaise.

Also notice that I said blue crab. I know that snow crab makes good television, but the lack of character (i.e., it has no taste) leaves it unsuitable for human consumption. Snow crab is the tofu of crustaceans. Having no taste of their own, snow crabs depend on the sides and sauces.

In a few days I will be in Boiling Springs (PA) to talk about place. Food is a forceful shaper and definer of place. If I want red or green chili, I go to Hatch or Las Vegas (NM). If I crave lobster (no face, no mother, no backbone), I wait until my next trip to MA up to ME. A bowl of Tarascan soup? Patzcuaro (Michoacan, Mexico). Shima tofu? Okinawa. June berry pie? Walhalla, North Dakota. Pu’er tea? Dali (China). Fried okra? Virginia or Mary Eubanks, Austin, Texas.

Yes, we are what we eat. But we are also who we eat. Traditional foods tether us to our past, to our heritage, and to our family. Languages are adopted, clothes changed, even names transformed, but foods are passed from generation to generation as a reminder of those who came before, and therefore of who we are. Food heritage (such as in heirloom vegetables) is on the up-swing, and for the most obvious reasons. Have you tried to gag down a hothouse tomato? Now you understand the slow food movement, and why so many are interested in supporting local growers.

Eat what you are, where you are, who you are.

Ted Eubanks
11 April 2010

More on Dragonfruit

Food,

Since dragonfruit and I only recently met, I decided to get to know it better. To my surprise, dragonfruit comes from a cactus, the genus Hylocereus. The fruit is cultivated in the tropics around the world, and I am not sure why I have not come across it before. In Japan, the fruit is grown in Okinawa.

Hylocereus is one of several cacti genera that are known as “night blooming,” such as in night-blooming cereus or queen of the night. The plant and fruit are also known as pitaya, and apparently several types are cultivated. We commonly see tuna (the fruit of prickly pear cactus) in our markets, but not pitaya.

The Dragonfruited Plain

Food,

Tokyo Fruit Store
Name the grocers in your area. In mine there are Whole Foods (run by a Austin libertarian), HEB, Kroger, Randalls, and a handful of shops with names such as Pic & Pac. HEB bailed Galveston after the hurricane, and we will see how long the others hang on. Whole Foods is no closer to the island than Houston, since they cater to a clientèle not exactly characteristic of Galveston. Funny, but in Austin we shop at Wheatsville Coop and Fresh Plus, both in Austin when Whole Foods began and both who have remained true to “local” food. I wouldn’t be caught dead in Whole Foods (sorry, John, politics do matter).

Japan is awash in neighborhood shops and restaurants. I know we hear about the conglomerates (Sony, Honda, Toshiba), but most Japanese shop for basics at the corner store. In the past there were dozens of corner shops in Galveston. In fact, a book has been published on the variety of neighborhood grocery stores and shops that once proliferated here on the island. For the most part, they are gone. Why support a local merchant, a neighbor, when you can buy cheap merchandise at a chain store owned by an off-islander? For all of the pride our local “born on the islanders” take in their origins (women often wear a BOI pendant), this pride does not extend to supporting local businesses.

Dragon Fruit

At the end of our Japan trip we shopped in Cassady’s neighborhood. There are countless tiny cafe and stores there, and I wanted to see a dragonfruit. We had dragonfruit for breakfast in Kyoto (white meat with minuscule black seeds), and I am certain that I had never seen the fruit before. Within minutes I had located a local shop with crates of the fruit, packed with shoppers preparing for the weekend.
Fruit bowl with dragon fruit

Yes, I agree that Americans have the constitutional right to be obese, ignorant, bigoted, and uninsured. I have no doubt that this is precisely what the founders had in mind. But for those who want a choice, who do appreciate local foods and farmers as an important part of their lives, the choices are limited. In Austin it is easy, in Galveston impossible. Where would you rather live?

Ted
2 April 2010

Osaka – Dining by Blowtorch

Food, ,
Takoyaki

How often do you cook with a blowtorch? Not canned heat (the fondue pot type), but an industrial grade blowtorch? We have now eaten our way across half of Japan, but tonight we witnessed a new style of Japanese cooking – flame thrower.

We left Nara around 11 AM, and arrived in Osaka in the early afternoon. I am behind in my accounts, but I must again take a side track and tell you about the food. Cassady has a good friend in Osaka, Besu, and we met her for dinner. She wanted us to go to a local takoyaki restaurant, the Pizza Ball House (Takonotetsu). The translation is loose. Trust me, there is no pizza in this cuisine other than melted cheese.

Okonomiyaki by blowtorch

Takoyaki is similar to okonomiyaki in that both consist of mixed vegetables fried in a milk-light batter. Okonomiyaki is a fritter or patty, while the takoyaki is a similar mix molded in a ping pong-sized ball. We cooked these dough balls at our table, carefully turning them in their cast iron mold with a stiletto-like pick. The end result is a crisp doughy outside protecting a moist, vegetable and/or meat laden interior. Scrumptious.

Takoyaki

The restaurant also served okonomiyaki, and I ordered the version with mountain vegetables. I absolutely love mountain vegetables. For those in the U.S. that have not had the pleasure, mountain vegetables consist of the fiddle leaves of ferns, mountain potatoes, wild mushrooms, and a variety of forest stems and leaves that defy description. Cassady and Besu finished off with a pizza okonomiyaki, which is the standard patty drowned in mayonnaise and cheese and then crisped by blowtorch.

Cassady and Besu

Of all of the Japanese cuisine that I have experienced, I like this style the best. Okonomiyaki, like soba and udon, is Japanese soul food. I am not a fan of Japanese curry (another soul food favorite), but otherwise I can’t think of a more satisfying way to spend a relaxing evening than with friends and family, a bottle of cold sake, and okonomiyaki.

Ted
23 Mar 2010

Hiroshima Okonomiyaki – Fried, Your Choice

Food, Travel, ,
Hiroshima Okonomiyaki Village

Okonomiyaki is among Japan’s gifts to the world (along with soba, udon, ocha, anime, and Godzilla). Translated the word means “fried, your choice.” In practice Okonomiyaki is a fritter-like concoction of whatever is at hand – seafood, vegetables, pork. Hiroshima is famous for its particular style of Okonomiyaki, and we spent an evening in the Okonomimura (Okonomiyaki village) delving into the intricacies of this local cuisine.

Hiroshima Oysters

First, though, let’s start with Hiroshima oysters. Over 30,000 tons of oysters are cultured each year in Hiroshima Bay. and the Japanese travel great distances to enjoy this particular bivalve. Although I eat no meat, I decided to taste the fried version as an appetizer. I grew up on the Texas Gulf Coast, and I have consumed more of these filter feeders than I, or my gut, cares to mention.
Hiroshima Fried Oysters

I must state unequivocally, though, that Hiroshima fried oysters are the best that I have tasted anywhere in this world. With a delicate, crispy crust, the encapsulated oysters retain both their moisture and their unique saline character. My suggestion (and hope) would be to attend the annual Hiroshima Oyster Festival in early March. The Japanese have been cultivating oysters here for over 450 years, and no one should miss this aspect of a Hiroshima visit.

Hiroshima Okonomiyaki

After the oysters we dove into our Okonomiyaki. Virginia and I ordered vegetarian (remember: fried, your choice). The Hiroshima Okonomiyaki differs in two ways. Noodles are incorporated into the fritter, and the concoction itself is covered with egg (like an omelet). Downstairs people were cooking their own on a griddle at their tables, as we have done before in Tokyo. Upstairs a cook prepared the cakes. I didn’t miss the thrill of cooking my own. Ours were divine.

Macha Latte

Among America’s gifts to the world is Starbucks. We have yet to visit a city in Japan without one. Cassady’s favorite drink is macha (green tea) latte. We capped off our dinner with a stop at Starbucks. Check out Cassady’s fingernail polish. Both Cassady and Virginia now have nails festooned with glitter and rhinestones. I am definitely the odd man (and only man) out among these fashionistas.

Ted

21 Mar 2010