McSalty

Posted by High Priestess Kang as Haute Cuisine

Salty burger lands McDonald’s employee in jail
Police officer says oversalted meat made him sick; worker faces charges

A McDonald’s employee spent a night in jail and is facing criminal charges because a police officer’s burger was too salty, so salty that he says it made him sick.

Kendra Bull was arrested Friday, charged with misdemeanor reckless conduct and freed on $1,000 bail.

Bull, 20, said she accidentally spilled salt on hamburger meat and told her supervisor and a co-worker, who “tried to thump the salt off.”

On her break, she ate a burger made with the salty meat. “It didn’t make me sick,” Bull told the Atlanta Journal-Constitution.

But then Police Officer Wendell Adams got a burger made with the oversalted meat, and he returned a short time later and told the manager it made him sick.

Bull admitted spilling salt on the meat, and Adams took her outside and questioned her, she said.

“If it was too salty, why did (Adams) not take one bite and throw it away?” said Bull, who has worked at the restaurant for five months. She said she didn’t know a police officer got one of the salty burgers because she couldn’t see the drive-through window from her work area.

Police sent samples of the burger to the state crime lab for tests.

City public information officer George Louth said Bull was charged because she served the burger “without regards to the well-being of anyone who might consume it.”

• Returned a short time later because it made him sick? How long is a, “short time?” What sort of, “sick?”
• Why did the Officer eat the entire burger? Certainly, he couldn’t have been that hungry.
• Taxpayers dollars are paying for crime lab analysis?

The best, however, is:

City public information officer George Louth said Bull was charged because she served the burger “without regards to the well-being of anyone who might consume it.”

Ok. So this asshat Officer goes to Mickey Ds, gets served shitty food and expects the food to be bordering on haute cuisine *AND* healthy and nutritious.

Gnauga, plz.

Raleighites! Go here!!!

Posted by High Priestess Kang as Haute Cuisine

Yeah…I have lived in Raleigh for over a decade now.  Sometimes, I’m slow on the up-take.

Yesterday, I finally managed to find some time to visit Conti’s Italian Market on Person Street (just a bit down the block from Krispy Kreme).  Oh boy!  Oh boy!  Oh boy!!!

Growing up, Daddy would take me shopping in the Italian Market.  We bought most of our meats, cheeses, breads and desserts there.  No finer place to shop, even if the soles of your shoes stick to the street corners.  And…if you’re unusually lucky…you can see the garbage barrel fires just like in the Rocky movies.

Anyhooo…walking into Conti’s zapped me back in time.  I felt like I was sixteen doing the weekly shopping with Dad.  The aromas, the options, the food, the service.  All of it harkens back fond memories for a girl who grew up in the North East. 

Raleighites, I strongly recommend your stopping by if you haven’t already.  The hard salami, capicola and provolone on ciabatta is a must experience. 

Next time:  cannoli.

Baking with hate…

Posted by High Priestess Kang as Haute Cuisine

For a while, there was nothing more soothing for me than standing in the kitchen among my neat gadgets and tools and playing mad scientist.  I would attempt to bake anything.  I had no fear.  It was all a challenge.

Sure, there was the indented brioche, the farmer’s tarte that Kent turned into cobbler when it fell apart on the pan and the quiche that chased Dock Ellis from the room (apparently, this myth about men not eating quiche:  true).  None of that bothered me.  For me, it was getting my hands covered in flour.  The whirling of the stand mixer.  Using my mandolin.  Or…playing with the Bundt and springform pans.

Now.  Not so much.

Perhaps it’s this feeling of obligation.  This expectation that I have to cook for people (High Priestess…lemon poppy seed cake, pleeeeease).  It sucks.

Tonight.  Tonight I bake with hate.

As I smash the eggs against the side of the mixing bowl (taking great care to make sure the egg doesn’t touch that germy shell), I swear in different languages.  As I scrub the pans and bowls, I enter into my Walter Mitty dream state and plot destruction.  As I chase down the poppy seeds which have flown across the kitchen, I summon the dog - the canine vacuum cleaner.

I’m not enjoying myself.

So these baked goods, looking so regal and stately in a presentation that would make any domestic diva swoon…they are full of hate.  Full of resentment.  Full of evil.

They should be happy I didn’t spit in them.

Carpetbagger

Posted by High Priestess Kang as Haute Cuisine, Rants

When I moved to Raleigh ten years ago, I knew there would be certain elements to Northern life I would never enjoy again.  I should like to think of myself as one of those mindful Yankees who tries diligently not to bitch and moan about the way things were done up North.  Assimilation wasn’t necessarily easy, but I managed it fine.

There are, however, a few things I miss from living, “up North.” 

I long for the days of being able to tell someone to, “phuck off” and have them not take umbrage at such a tongue lashing.  I long to raise my voice.  I long to speak in my normal, Mid-Atlantic nasal twang without someone saying, “Yer not from ’round here are you?” 

What I am missing most, as winter settles in, is the smell of cold weather, crisp leaves and decent phucking food.  North Carolina’s greatest contribution to the culinary world is barbecue and hush puppies.  Don’t get me wrong…I absolutely adore both.  My life has been made much richer through the barbecue and hush puppy experience.  But…aside from that…the food down South is really le suck.

Growing up in the Philadelphia area, we were never lacking in ethnic foods.  I was raised in a predominately Italian suburb with a different pizza shop and/or restaurant on every corner.  The pizza was consistently good regardless of which place you chose to make your own.

Here, in Raleigh, the pizza is fail.  For ten years, I have been searching for a decent pie.  For ten years, I have been disappointed.  The crust is *gasps* sweet.  The sauce is *gasps* sweet.  Don’t even ask me what sort of cheese they put on the pies down here, either.  It’s not like home.

Humans need their comfort foods.  The foods that emotionally impact them and send them back to a specific place in time.  My mother could not boil water without over cooking it.  Pizza is my childhood comfort food.  Is it too much to ask to find a decent pizza parlor in town?  Hmmmmm??? 

I know the perfect pizza is not a possibility here.  The humidity distorts any bread product, making it fall as limp as a penis whose human consumed too much alcohol.  One would think, some resourceful Yankee would erect a humidity proof building with a proper oven to make the creation we so yearn for.

Until that time comes, I need to remember that there are only two places on Earth where I can find a respectable pie.  Philadelphia and Sweden.  Yeah…Swedish pizzas are quite yummy.  In the interim, I will simply revert to frozen pies which are supposed to be disappointing and save my dollars for airfare.

So signed…the pissed off and bitter Yankee.

Phuck yous.

I scream, you scream, we all scream for Klan ice cream!

Posted by High Priestess Kang as Amusement, Haute Cuisine

 

   

   

Swedish ice cream makers, GB Glace, sparked a controversy last year when introducing a new ice cream bar, Nogger Black. Nogger Black is a (black) licorice flavored ice cream bar.

To stereotype Swedes, all Swedes love black licorice. All of them. That’s right, all 9 million Swedes love the shit.

While GB Glace was most attentive to the needs of the consumer, they innocently overlooked the fact that Nogger Black may be deemed a trifle bit offensive. The picture above was created by some sinister minded Swedes (ok…comically brilliant Swedes) to parody Nogger Black confection.

Neither, in my opinion, can hold a candle to Piggelin, though.

Huh?

Posted by High Priestess Kang as Haute Cuisine, Rants

Ummmm….from the more things I just don’t understand files….

This afternoon, while watching the news, a commercial came on for popcorn. I really do not care for popcorn. The smell makes me a little queasy. Apparently, I am not alone. Dock’s boss wouldn’t allow microwaves in the office for years because he hates the smell of popcorn, too. The staff had to solemnly swear that they would never make popcorn in the office in order to have a microwave.

To my point…the commercial.

The commercial lauds its gourmet popcorn (nothing that can be feed for cattle and chickens should ever be considered, “gourmet” imho). The commercial speaks to, “hand-crafted” popcorn. This has me thinking…what makes popcorn hand-crafted? Is this something Santa’s elves do in the off-season? Do they sit at little tables in a workshop and individually carve the popcorn? Do they make funny shapes? If so, why are the shapes so limited? Couldn’t we have some more interesting forms other than the mushroomy one and the one that looks like…um…popcorn?

Talk about a lack of creativity.

Hand-crafted popcorn. Today’s most ridiculous marketing campaign.

Cravings

Posted by High Priestess Kang as Haute Cuisine

Great googlymoogly. I am having one of those late night, impractical cravings. I do not think this is the munchies, I think this much worse than that. I need to have a gingerbread man…NOW!

Not the well-done, overly decorated with stupid frosting, either. I want the simple, chewy kind with the raisin buttons and eyes.

As it is 23:36 on a Saturday night in the middle of August, I know there is a snowball’s chance in hell that I am going to be able to satisfy this urge. This makes the craving all the more severe and enrages me to no end.

When I find this man, I am going to eat him.

*the author is not up the duff, pregnant, knocked up, with child, etc…

The Burger Quest

Posted by High Priestess Kang as Haute Cuisine

Everyone who knows our branch of the family tree knows that we love bar food. The greasier, the worse it is for you, the better! There is no length to the limits we will go to seek out the perfect cheeseburger, either. My sister and her husband have domain over the Washington, DC area. If there is a good burger joint up there, they know about it. My father and I are the Raleigh-Durham-Chapel Hill area scouts.

Today…Dock and I continue the quest for the perfect burger. On the agenda today, a sampling of Cheeburger Cheeburger, which just opened in the Brierdale shopping center near our home. I am fairly optimistic about this, as this appears to be a serious burger joint. They respectfully ask that you come prepared to wait at least fifteen minutes for your meal. All cheeseburgers are cooked to order. Mmmmmm. Not only do they offer the standard french fries, but onion rings are available, too. And…cheese sauce!!! A cheese sauce bath for the frites and rings. What more could you want? Oh wait…Milk shakes, too!!!!

I am hoping to add Cheeburger Cheeburger to my list of best places to go for a cheeseburger in the Triangle. I’m drooling in anticipation of a bleu cheese, bacon and onion ring burger. I cannot wait.

There are several other places in the Triangle area for fantastic burgers, though. They are, in no particular order, listed below:

• Abbey Road Tavern & Grille - Cary, NC
• Five Guys Famous Burgers and Fries - Raleigh and Durham, NC
• Sawmill Tap Room - Raleigh, NC

Of those listed, nothing beats a sauteed mushroom and onion cheesebomb from Five Guys. That is my guiltiest pleasure in life (aside from coffin tacks). Nothing quells the storm of PMS like a Five Guys burger.

Abbey Road will cook up your hunk of beast in any fashion you desire, eschewing the ridiculous mandates of the North Carolina Health Department. So…if it is blood you desire, go to Abbey Road and enjoy your burger tartare.

The Sawmill Tap Room makes a fantastic burger, multiple ways. And…there is always that order of fried pickle chips to keep you coming back.

Wish us luck this afternoon. Hopefully, we will have another place to add to the list of guilty pleasures.

Oy! You say you feel like shit????

Posted by High Priestess Kang as Haute Cuisine, Personal

Oy vey! You say you have a cold? Vat? Perhaps a virus???

Nothing works better for what ails you like a big, steaming bowl of Jewish Penicillin. That’s right…chicken soup. Or…in this case, matzoh ball soup. Mmmmmmmm. Deeeee-lish!!!

Matzoh balls are not to be confused with other ball shaped food like Rocky Mountain Oysters. I am not even sure they are Kosher. tsk tsk tsk

Eat up, get some rest and feel better soon!!! Otherwise…it’s off to the doctor for you.

Anticipation

Posted by High Priestess Kang as Haute Cuisine

I finally located some fromage blanc and saucisson. I had to order it on-line from igourmet. The order is due to arrive today at some point.

I’m hoping to whip up a tarte flambée this evening for Dock. However, I just read that the pâte à pain is going to take three hours to proof.

So…should I trust Dock to make the dough or should we just eat dinner at 22:00???? Maybe we would be better off if I dispatched Dock to the store for a fresh baguette for the saucisson. Hmmm.

Or…we could just take that fat check from Uncle Sam (tax refund) and blow it on dinner.?. Given the mood I’m in this morning, I may not feel like screwing around in the kitchen for a few hours trying to perfect a new recipe.