Food
For years we were Roger’s Restaurant people, denizens of the smokey bar area known as the back room. We had our booth, and if it was taken, we would sit at the bar drinking Old Fashioneds until it was free. Everybody went to Roger’s, whether it was to eat, drink, or talk about the horse industry. Whenever we drove into the parking lot to park, by the time we got inside, our cocktails were sitting on the bar. The televisions would be blaring Wheel Of Fortune or the local news, and the overheard
conversations were always convivial.
Most people went on particular nights depending on the nightly specials. Wednesdays were Fried Chicken Night, fried in a cast iron skillet with a “please be patient for the length of time” warning. Good things took time. The fried chicken would rival any
grandmothers. In fact, it was cooked by grandmothers in a very hot kitchen using lard or Crisco. Flaky, crispy, and moist. We would call ahead to reserve our chicken because they always ran out. When it was gone, it was gone. Period.
The Lamb Fries, Fried Catfish, Pan-Seared Country Ham with Red Eye Gravy, and Pan-fried Trout were some favorites among an extensive menu.
The Prime Rib was fantastic, swimming in a salty reduced au jus, so dark it would almost stain the tender meat.
They had Soup Beans with Corn Cakes, laden with ham hock and tear-inducing chopped onions. Thay also had a wonderful Wilted Spinach Salad, broken down with a hot bacon vinaigrette that was so sugary sweet, it made your teeth ache….in a marvelous way. I would start eating it with a fork and finish it with a spoon, capturing every drop.
Then there were Fridays. Friday night was Swiss Steak & Salmon Croquettes night. We always went for the salmon croquettes. Very old school. Triangular orbs of salmon, deep fried, plated, and topped with a thick mildly-sweet velvety egg sauce. A squeeze of lemon would perk it up and cut through the richness of the sauce, a perfect pairing. Corncakes with butter pats, a potato of some kind, and buttered peas rounded it out. A plate of heaven!
We probably would still be going to Roger’s had it not closed in 2004 after 81 years of making people happy and welcome.
Friday night can still be Salmon Croquettes night, especially during Lent with Meatless Fridays. Last night, we took a trip down memory lane with them. Croquettes are something I don’t make. Michael is the croquette maker in this house, and always has been. He does them perfectly. Very basic. Very old school. Very good.
Salmon, eggs, mayonnaise, breadcrumbs, and seasonings are mixed and patted out, pan-sauteed until golden brown, and topped with a sauce. He has been tinkering with ingredients as of late. To the standards he’ll sometimes add chopped peppers,
green onions, or fresh lemon juice. Any new addition always bumps up the flavor and taste.
I usually make the sauce, depending on mood and on-hand ingredients. I never could master the Roger’s egg sauce and eventually stopped trying. Last night, I made a sour orange hollandaise with minced red peppers and tomato concasse.
The croquettes very wonderful, crisp brown with a bite to them. The tart buttery hollandaise was a good partner. We served them with creamed peas and twice-baked potatoes. The textures and flavors enhanced and complimented each other.
Bright. Sweet. Spicy. Buttery. Crunchy. Soft. Creamy.
We didn’t even miss the meat. We did miss Vanna White.
by: Matt Sparks
Fridays during Lent can be tough. First, you have your what-I-gave-up-for Lent thing going on, which can be hard in its own right, if done, correctly. I have to avoid the chip aisle at the grocery now for 40 days, and look away from my favorite tiny sample bags of chips at check out. If I see them, the back of mouth aches and I salivate. There are no fainting couches at Kroger check-out lanes, so I have to look away and pretend they are not there.
Fridays are another matter. Meatless Fridays. Sounds innocent enough, although I work in a restaurant and there is meat everywhere. Last year, I failed my solemn Lenten vows by tasting innocent food nibbles that area purveyors had brought in for samples. Buttery-hot & sticky chicken wings? Why, of course. Porterhouse steak, perfectly char-grilled to medium rare with a pat of maitre’ d butter? Why yes, I’ll have a bite of that. It was ridiculous. I was in confirmation class, no less, trying to follow all the rules leading up to the Great Easter Vigil…and my confirmation by the Bishop.
Taken down by a chicken wing. Sackcloth. Heavy boots.
So far, this year has been better. One down. I was looking through Thomas Keller’s Ad Hoc At Home for inspiration and found this beautiful recipe for grilled asparagus with butter-toasted croutons, topped with poached eggs. It didn’t seem substantial enough. Not meaty enough.
We opted for omelets with home fries. I make a pretty mean omelet. Not the fancy ones I learned in school. Not the ones that Julia Child jiggled about in a sauté’ pan until they magically formed into naturally and perfectly turned out omelets. Mine are the working man’s omelet. Big, fluffy egg vessels, full of mouthwatering cheese-dripping goodness.
I have a gorgeous pan used only for omelet making, nothing else.
I bring the eggs to room temperature, season them with freshly grated nutmeg, and whip them with water. Not milk. Milk can make them tough.
(If I have chives growing out back, I’ll mince them finely and add them to the eggs.)
After the butter begins sizzling in the pan, I add the eggs and push the sides toward the center, tilting the pan to let the eggs flow underneath. When almost cooked through, I add the ingredients, top with a lid to melt, and roll the omelet onto a plate.
Last night, Michael made the home fries. His are far better than mine. Perfectly cooked, salty, crunchy, and soft on the inside. A great companion to the bursting omelet.
I filled them with fire-roasted yellow, green, and red bell peppers, aged white cheddar, reggiano, diced roma tomatoes, and sour cream. The sour cream bumps up the creaminess of the eggs and provides a fresh cool acidity. Really fantastic.
I must admit, a few slices of thick-cut maple brown sugar roasted bacon would have been a nice touch. n
Tom Yates is a Lexington chef who blogs at http://canonchef.blogspot.com.
by: Rob Kirkland
It was 1998 when Ace’s “Fridges of Fayette County” series first began (around the same time Jonathan and Cara Lundy opened Jonathan at Gratz Park) — where intrepid Ace Interns rooted around in the fridges of famous bluegrass top chefs (usually
without forewarning). Alums from the series include Ouita Michel (Holly Hill Inn) and Lundy, who has a new book out just in time for the holidays.
Rob Bricken thoroughly investigated the Lundy fridge in 2000 and reported back its contents: “A case containing at least one jillion eggs. Mott’s apple juice. Burgundy wine, for their five-year anniversary. Crystal hot sauce, European butter (“higher fat”), preserved peaches. Key limes ‘for a Mexican-food party we had last week. We filled the water cooler with Maragaritas.’ Jonathan Lundy — our new hero. In the door is some Molson beer, ketchup, goat cheese, and butter. And some ALE-8, in the longneck bottles. ‘Only way to drink it.’ Lundy says, then mutters, ‘Uhh … you, uh, want one?’ (clearly having no desire to give one up). Experience dictates: Never separate an Ale-8 drinker from their longnecks. In the freezer is Starbucks coffee
and Frootee-Ice for Amelia. As the interview winds down, he offers a fig rubbed with cinammon, olive oil, date sugar, and then grilled. Now it’s hard to leave.” (The new book includes a recipe for the “Kentucky Speedball” on page 230 — a bourbon and Ale-8 cocktail.)
Part coffee-table book (with lovely photography from Lee Thomas), and part cookbook, this self-published project is a love letter from Lundy to the Bluegrass.
In the introduction he writes, “The Bluegrass Region of Kentucky occupies a distinctive place in the American imagination — a place of undulating hills, horses and bourbon distilleries. From our front porch swings, we enjoy sunsets over fields of sweet
corn, sorghum and soybeans. Food and animal feed crops have replaced much of the traditional tobacco base, and farmers markets have found permanent homes in the cities. There is nothing like a Kentucky tomato or local wildflower honey. Pork has reached near-cult level — country hams, jowl bacon — there is simply none better. The same limestone that nurtures the thoroughbred horses here also imparts its richness to grass-fed lamb, cattle and goats, whose milk has inspired local cheese artisans. A sixth-generation mill still grinds local corn and wheat just up the creek from where I played as a child.”
Lundy (along with Ouita Michel and Debbie Long, to name a few) is one of Lexington’s influential restaurateurs encouraging others along Lexington’s farm-to-table culinary path. Recipes include cornmeal-fried freshwater shrimp, his famous fried green
tomatoes, the country ham carbonara, his take on the Hot Brown, and dozens of other classics his regulars have grown to love over the last decade. The country ham pot stickers are ambitious, but he swears they really can be done at home. (Step 10 admits “This is difficult at first, but you will get the hang of it.”)
Readers will likely be able to master his Spalding’s Doughnut Bread Pudding just in time for the holidays:
Ingredients
1 gallon dried, glazed doughnuts, cut into 1/2 inch cubes (about 18 -20 doughnuts)
10 eggs
1 quart half-and-half
2 cups brown sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons melted butter
Method
1. Prehead oven to 350º Fahrenheit
2. Crack eggs into a large mixing bowl. Add half-and-half, brown sugar, vanilla extract and salt. Mix well.
3. Add dried doughnut cubes. Allow the doughnuts to soak in the custard base for 45 minutes.
4. Brush the insides of a 6x9-inch baking dish with the butter.
5. Pour mixture into the baking dish, cover with aluminum foil and bake in the oven for 30 minutes. Remove foil and bake another 15 minutes.
6. Ladle Wild Turkey American Honey Liqueur Sauce before serving.
The sauce is on page 206. Bon Appetit.
by: Matt Sparks
In his recent MotorTrend blog this week, Frank Markus reviews the Mazda 3i… and the Kentucky Bourbon Trail
http://blogs.motortrend.com/6581038/auto-review/scouting-the-bourbon-trail-in-a-mazda3i-touring/index.html
He writes:
“My Bourbon Trail stop on the way home was at the Woodford Reserve distillery just south off I-64 northwest of Lexington, Kentucky. Woodford offers fascinating tours, that allow you to put your nose right over the bubbling mash, stick your head inside the copper kettles (when they’re not working, which is much of the time, as this is small-batch stuff), and breathe deep the ‘Angels’ Share’ in the aging warehouse (40 percent of the clear liquid poured into the white oak barrels evaporates during the six to eight years it ages, expanding into and retreating out of the barrel’s charred wood as the temperature goes up and down, picking up the color and flavor that makes it bourbon). The memory of that smooth, sweet 10ml taste at the end of the tour—and the promise of a longer pour at the end of the journey—was almost enough to sustain me through traffic snarls associated with two Thanksgiving Sunday wrecks and three nasty construction zones.”
by: Ace
Download the PDF
Anyone who went to the Incredible Food Show at Rupp Arena has been buzzing about Salt Rox ever since. Partners from the local startup Mary McKee and John Tucker demonstrated the shot glasses made of pink Himalayan salt by inviting everyone who stopped by their table to “lick it.”
McKee explained in a little more detail, “The quick and dirty is that you can season your food with it, cook your food on it and shoot your tequila out of it!” You can grill, sauté, cure, chill, bake, or just serve on the salt ware.
The new Lexington startup imports Pink Himalayan Salt and then hand carves everything from cooking stones to serving ware, plates, sushi chop sticks, Salt Shotz and more. Conveniently, John Tucker already had more than 20 years of carving experience as the former owner of Tucker Marble and Tile. SaltRox salt slabs and shots are now found all over Lexington — from the kitchen at Azur, where Chef Jeremy Ashby cooks on
them — to bars like Mia’s and Furlong’s and Merrick Inn. (You can also buy some of the products locally at retailers like L.V. Harkness downtown and Chrisman Mill in Hamburg.)
And anyone with flu season in mind will appreciate salt’s antimicrobial properties.
Earlier this week, the SaltRox partners hosted a tapas tasting menu, and a Top Chef style evening, at The Dish on Ashland Avenue. A wine tasting menu is fairly traditional, but Chef Jeremiah and proprietor Trish worked together to pair courses that incorporated spirits without overwhelming the food.
The first course was rock shrimp ceviche and English Cucumber Capellini tossed with fresh mint vinaigrette served on chilled pink salt: paired with a muddled cucumber, cilantro, jalapeno, and tequila shot.
The second course was sugar and salt cured salmon with orange reduction with wilted spinach and fresh mango — paired with fresh muddled limes and oranges served on the rocks with Guava Rum, topped with soda.
One guest observed jovially, “I think I might have to go to the hospital. I have high blood pressure.” Reassured that this was the LOW sodium Himalayan salt, he laughed, “am I bleeding from my ears yet?” (Then he soldiered on to dessert.)
Dessert was chocolate peanut butter pie with chocolate ganache and salt rox roasted peanut brittle. Paired with a chocolate covered pretzel shot.
The only flaw anyone expressed about the three course meal was that it wasn’t a five-course meal.
McKee would like to see SaltRox turn up in the swag bags at the Oscars and Emmys — but for now, they’re an official Ace Favorite Thing for the Holidays, 2009.
SaltRox will offer a tasting at Ace’s Holiday Hop at Woodland Computers at 5pm on Friday. You can now follow @SaltRoxLex on Twitter. (SaltRox is also on Facebook, with Upcoming Events, and Photos.).
by: Matt Sparks
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