Flashback Friday - Sticky Rice

This post originally appeared on Minxeats.com on April 15, 2013.
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The last couple of times Mr Minx and I went out for sushi, I was disappointed. While both meals featured very fresh fish, they seemed bland overall. Mr Minx says we probably just ordered badly, but I think I was just ready for something completely different. So on a recent excursion to Fells Point, I decided Sticky Rice would be the ideal place for lunch.

The restaurant looks like a dive bar on the outside, and like a dive bar on the inside, albeit one with a beautiful wooden bar and bar back and a gussied-up gold-painted traditional pressed tin ceiling. The classic rock blaring in the background and basketball on the TV belies the menu of traditional and not-so-traditional sushi items.

We vacillated between an appetizer cheekily called "sticky balls" and its vegetarian cousin, "garden balls," before choosing the former. Made with a thin skin of tofu with a pocket cut into it, the balls are stuffed with tuna, crab, and rice flavored with Sriracha before being deep-fried until crisp and topped with scallions, wasabi dressing, eel sauce, and tobiko. They are unlike any inarizushi we've ever had in the past, and I must say - a vast improvement. (Inari skins are typically soaked in a sweet soy syrup before being stuffed with plain rice; I find them to be far too sweet.) We liked the delicate crispness of the tofu, and the balance between the spicy rice and the two sauces.

We also had two rolls. One was a special, the Scorpion roll, stuffed with fried soft shell crab, plus avocado and cucumber. The other was called "Drawn-N-Buttered," an inside-out roll with tempura shrimp, lump crab, cucumbers and scallions. Sounds fairly normal, but it was served with a garlic butter dip. Who knew that garlic butter was such a fine accompaniment to sushi? We found ourselves dipping both rolls into it. Our only quibble is that the butter might have been tastier if it were hot, or at least warm.

A nice touch: the carrots and greens on the platter were not merely a garnish but an actual salad topped with a bit of the usual tangy orange sushi restaurant dressing. It was a nice acid counterpoint to the richness of the butter sauce.

Sticky Rice proved a welcome respite from our sushi doldrums.

Sticky Rice
1634 Aliceanna Street
Baltimore, MD 21231



Posted on Minxeats.com.

Whole 30 Compliant Turkey Sloppy Joe

Like a lot of moms in the 1970s, my mom had to go back to work when I was nine years old to help out with the economic realities that an oil crisis and runaway inflation imposed on our country. No longer could we rely on the kind of complicated and time-consuming dinners we had once enjoyed like pot roast, fried chicken, and meatloaf. By the time my mom got home from the law office where she worked as a secretary (they were still called secretaries back then), she needed some quick and easy meals to get on the table.

One of her go-to meals was sloppy joe, made all the quicker by the ready-made sauce known as Manwich. Brown some ground beef, dump on the Manwich, stir it up and slap it on some hamburger buns. I was more than happy to dig into this salty mess as a kid, but today it doesn't sound all that appealing, which is why I haven't eaten sloppy joe in decades.

Recently, the Minx and I have been on the Whole 30 diet and have been seeing some positive results. In a nutshell, the diet requires that one eat non-processed foods for 30 days, which eliminates a helluva lot of food when you get down to it. This makes coming up with filling meals that are also Whole 30 compliant a bit of a challenge. One day while we were trying to come up with dinner possibilities, the Minx suggested making sloppy joe. While we could make it with ground beef and stay within the diet, she thought it would be even healthier to try to make it with ground turkey.

I liked the idea because it would give me a chance to create a sloppy joe that would taste better than the from-a-can stuff I ate as a kid. The tricky part was that sloppy joe is usually slightly sweet, and you can't use any sugar or sweeteners on Whole 30. We decided to replace sugar with finely chopped dates. They dissolve in the mixture and add just enough sweetness to balance the tartness of the mustard and the acidity of the tomatoes.

Our recipe requires about 15 ounces of tomatoes, pureed to create a smooth sauce. Since it's unlikely you will find pureed tomatoes in a can that small, we used a can of diced tomatoes and whizzed them up with a stick blender plunged straight into the can. You have to be careful not to make a mess, but it does work. Otherwise, some chunky tomato in the sauce is probably fine. (And yes, though canned vegetables are technically "processed," if there are no weird additives they still qualify as "whole" foods.)

Whole 30 Compliant Turkey Sloppy Joe

1 pound ground turkey
1 medium onion, chopped
1/2 red bell pepper, chopped
Kosher salt
14.5 ounce can chopped tomatoes, pureed
6 dates, chopped
1 tablespoon ground mustard
1 tablespoon brown mustard
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
Freshly ground black pepper

Brown the ground turkey in a skillet over high heat. Once the meat is browned, reduce heat and add the onion and bell pepper. Sprinkle a little salt on the mixture at this point to help draw out the moisture of the vegetables. When the onion becomes translucent, thoroughly mix in the tomato puree, dates, ground mustard, brown mustard, garlic powder, and smoked paprika. Turn the heat to low and allow to simmer covered for fifteen minutes. Taste and add salt and pepper to your liking.

If you are using this recipe as part of a Whole 30 diet, you can replace the bun one might normally serve sloppy joe on with a baked potato or French fries.



Posted on Minxeats.com.

Flashback Friday - Edamame Hummus

This post originally appeared on Minxeats.com on June 12, 2013.

I've been on a hummus kick lately, have you noticed? I really do love the stuff and would eat it more often if it wasn't normally made with chick peas. Those little bastards give me such intestinal distress, I can't even look at them without getting gassy. In their place, I've been making hummus with just about every other bean under the sun, mostly with success.

Not long ago, we bought some edamame hummus from Trader Joe's, and man, that stuff was delicious! The best bean yet. So when I decided that our Memorial Day dinner would involve kebabs and various Mediterranean-inspired sauces, I put edamame hummus on the list of must-makes. Coincidentally, I received Louisville chef Edward Lee's new cookbook, Smoke and Pickles, at around the same time and the first recipe I turned to when I opened the book at random was his version of edamame hummus. It was kismet.

Lee makes his hummus chunky and uses it as a side dish. I wanted a more traditional dip/puree, so I added a bit more water to the food processor when I was blending. I also didn't need quite so much hummus, so I halved the recipe. Here's my take on it:

Edamame Hummus (adapted from Smoke and Pickles)

2 green onions, white and light green part, chopped
2 cloves garlic, chopped
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 cup frozen edamame
1/2 cup water
1/4 cup tahini
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice
2 teaspoons soy sauce
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground cumin

Saute the green onion and garlic in the olive oil until soft, 2-3 minutes. Add the remaining ingredients to the pan and bring to a simmer. Cook 6-8 minutes, or until beans are no longer crunchy. Remove from heat and cool slightly.

Puree the mixture in a food processor until fairly smooth, adding additional additional water to help the process. Taste the mixture and adjust seasoning with more lemon juice, soy, and olive oil, if necessary.

Serve at room temperature with unsalted tortilla chips or pita.



Posted on Minxeats.com.

Spotlight on: Hersh's

Not sure if anyone knows, but I've been writing a restaurant column for the City Walker App Blog. The purpose of the app itself is to give visitors a local's-eye-view of a city, so they are able to experience it in the same way residents do--on foot. (Not that anyone actually walks anywhere anymore.) The blog offers a bit more detail; I have endeavored to take users on a stroll through the city while pointing out restaurants along the way. In addition to the walking posts, I have been writing others that put certain favorite restaurants of mine in a spotlight. I thought I could share those here with you.

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When I was much younger, Baltimore was a pizza wasteland. Sure, restaurants touting their nightmarish “fresh dough” pizza were all over the place, and yes, I ate my share of it, always hoping to find a slice that actually tasted good. The whole ‘fresh” dough thing was quite a misnomer; it was made in a factory somewhere and trucked into restaurants around town, so how fresh could it be? Well into the 1980s, Baltimore-area pizzas consisted of these flabby, flavorless crusts topped with bland red sauce and puddles of rubbery salt masquerading as cheese. Though cooked up in mom-and-pop establishments, they were awful enough to make Pizza Hut and Domino’s seem like the good stuff.

There were, of course, exceptions to the rule. My favorite pizza came from a regional chain called Pappy’s, where they served birch beer by the pitcher and gave styrofoam hats to kids. You know, the ones that are modeled after straw boaters and seen on the heads of barbershop quartets and election day candidate-hucksters. I was probably 10 when I had my last Pappy’s pizza so can’t be held accountable for my taste back then. There was also Matthew’s Pizzaria in Highlandtown, Squire’s in Dundalk, and Pizza John’s in Essex, all of which are still in business lo these many decades later. The former has a strong fan base, but I’ve always thought their pies were bland. Squire’s pizzas are anything but, with a very herby and somewhat sweet tomato sauce and a crust that is crunchy rather than crispy. I’ve never been to Pizza John’s, but I hear that they serve thin NY-style pizza and they make their own dough, so I should probably get my ass out there, right? In any case, none of the pizzas of my Charm City youth could hold a candle to most dollar slices in New York. For a while there I decided I didn’t really like the stuff. Fortunately, in the 00s, a bunch of pizza joints opened up in Baltimore, all serving thin-crust goodness with toppings like pesto and arugula. I realized I did like pizza, even craved it, though none of these newer establishments were what I’d call a “holy grail.”

Then I tried Hersh’s.

Hersh’s is on the very end of Light Street, a good mile’s walk from the Inner Harbor. Owned by siblings Josh and Stephanie Hershkovitz, Hersh’s serves Neapolitan-style pizza and a whole lotta other yummy Italianate things. But first, the pizza. It’s cooked in a wood-fired oven and is served uncut, like in Naples. The crust is thin with a perfectly blistered cornicione and some leopard-spots of char on the crust and upskirt. While the pizzas look so damn good you just want to pick it up and shove it into your pizza-pie-hole whole, cutting it into at least four slices is probably a better way to approach things. Less hot cheese in the lap. Also as in Naples, you can’t just come in and expect to get a giant pie slathered in shredded cheese and slices of pepperoni perched on a 5-napkin oil slick. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that.) If you’re really into pepperoni, you can add some to a Margherita (otherwise topped with housemade mozz, grana padano, and fresh basil), but why not put a little more excitement in your life? My suggestion is to order the Tre Porcellini if it’s on the menu. It’s topped with three different pork products–sausage, braised pork, and guanciale–along with provolone, garlic and red pepper flakes, and it will take you to hog heaven. (Sorry, couldn’t resist!) The Fumo e Fuoco is my fave, topped with smoked mozz, grana padana, and soft rounds of fried eggplant, all drizzled with a spark of chili oil. Excellent for dinner, even better when eaten cold for breakfast.

But enough about the pizza. While a pie and a beer, glass of vino, or a crafty cocktail can be a perfect meal for some, Hersh’s kitchen magic is not limited to things on crusts. You see, Hersh’s isn’t a pizza parlor. It’s an Italian restaurant. Yet, it’s impossible for my husband and I to eat at Hersh’s and not order pizza. However, we like to make it one course of a multi-course meal and share everything. So we might start off with one of the antipasti, most likely the wood-fired octopus or maybe the meatballs in tomato sauce over housemade ricotta, then move on to a salad. Right now there’s a lovely Autumn Salad comprising escarole, apples, pecans, parm, and gorgonzola dolce in a dijon-apple cider vinaigrette that sounds perfect. And while the more protein-focused of Chef Josh’s main dishes are going to be dynamite, we usually lean toward ordering a plate of his tender housemade pasta, like a classic spaghetti Carbonara, or maybe some roast pumpkin gnocchi with crispy braised pork and arugula-pumpkin seed pesto. (Yeah, I’m drooling too.) Once we’ve demolished those items, then we’ll have pizza. And if we can’t finish it, that’s when it becomes breakfast the following morning. There’s really no losing with this meal plan.

So if you’re in the mood for really great pizza and a plate of pillowy ricotta ravioli or maybe tagliolini with some sort of seafood on top, you definitely need to walk all the way down Light Street to Riverside to eat at Hersh’s. (And if your feet are sore from all the other walking you’ve been doing, jump on the bus. The Silver Line goes straight down Light and stops within a block of the restaurant.

Hersh’s
1843 Light Street
Baltimore, MD 21230
(443) 438-4948



Posted on Minxeats.com.