ES/Food Network Contest: We Have a Winner

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I knew that we would learn something valuable as part of this little exercise.

I thought we might learn a wonderful new grilling technique.  I thought we might learn a valuable tip for keeping your burgers juicy.

But what we really learned is that Endless Simmer’s readers should not be allowed anywhere near an open flame.

We asked for the craziest grillers out there to chime in with their war stories.  The folks at Food Network stoked the fires with some sweet swag to help celebrate the arrival of grilling week on the network.  And you, dear reader, came up with some of the most harrowing stories we’ve ever heard from a cookout.

Our blue ribbon panel of experts reviewed the entries, notified the senders’ local fire safety officials, and came up with our winners.

And so, without further ado…

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What’s the Deal with Iced Coffee?

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Scene: A coffee shop. The first perfect, 85-degree late spring day in Brooklyn, NY.

Dramatis Personae: BS, an easily disgruntled food blogger.

Conflict: The same issue that brews through my caffeine-addicted mind every time the weather gets this warm. I get to the front of the line and see:

Hot Coffee:  $1.25

Iced Coffee: $2.50

WTF? Why is iced coffee so damn expensive? Is it really that hard to cold brew coffee? Because it seems like you’re paying twice as much for goddamn ice. Ice costs like 99-cents for a giant bag, and of course you can just make it yourself for, oh I don’t know – free! Even factoring in the price of water, I’d say a cup of ice costs about 1 cent, which means that charging me $1.25 extra for ice in my coffee is basically a 10,000 percent markup. Pound for pound, iced coffee is the most expensive drink in the world!

Needless to say, I went with hot coffee. I’m considering going back up there and asking for a (free) glass of ice water, dumping out the water, and pouring my coffee over the ice.

Grrr….

Previously on ES: What’s the Deal with Mozzarella Sticks?

Getting a Chip off My Shoulder

(Photo: Kanko*)

Cupcake Rampage: Frosting 101

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Mini vegan orange vanilla cupcakes with orange buttercream, adapted from Vegan Cupcakes Take Over The World.

Even though I’m only a recent arrival to the home baking scene, I’m an even more recent convert to the merits of frosting. Like any newbie fumbling and grasping about for a culinary bra clasp, I started out with a battery of failures, but once I got the basics and the wheels came off, an iconoclastic cockiness set in. Paper liners? We don’t need no stupid cupcake diapers! We’ll bake these bad boys commando! Sprinkles? Say “sprinkles” again! I dare you! I double dare you! Frosting? Pah! Frosting is the opiate of the baking world! People’s tongues have become numb with sugar and can no longer appreciate the subtlety of pure, unadulterated, naked cupcake meat!

Of course, I learned my lesson. Paper liners don’t just ease cleanup, they can provide a color accent and give people that Christmas morning feeling of unwrapping a gift just for them. Sprinkles and other garnishes may be little more than pieces of flair on the uniform of a baked good, but remember, half of your score comes from presentation. And frosting? Well, if cupcakes make the world go around, then frosting is the axis upon which it spins.

Making your own frosting is one of the easiest things in the world to do. While it isn’t necessarily cheaper than store-bought frosting, it does allow you to control the quality and quantity of the ingredients that go into it. My basic guide, after the jump…

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And The Bible Told Me So

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I’m just a tiny bit competitive. If BS is making asparagus soup, gansie must make some asparagus soup. Plus, it was my idea (see comments) in the first place.

So please, I welcome you on my asparagus soup making journey. It was a shit show.

Okay, so blah, blah, blah I don’t follow recipes. I made my own asparagus stock, according to Martha, and then sorta followed the BS endorsed recipe. Well, except for a few KEY ingredients.

The soup called for heavy cream and lemon. Like an ass, I thought I could sub yogurt for that combo: the yogurt could add a creaminess (heavy cream) and tartness (lemon.) Well, I made a boatload of soup and I guess the amount of yogurt I added in no way enhanced the flavor, nor the texture.

So then I added curry powder. And then ginger. And no luck. Still was fairly unflavorful. I think I used too much onion in comparison to the asparagus. I was PISTED. I mean, what asshole fucks up soup.

I checked out my fridge – longing to add depth to this vat of green liquid. I spotted red wine. An acid was desperately needed. But when I called out this almost revelation, the couch-dwelling 80P negged the idea. But then he suggested I consult the bible. The Flavor Bible, that is. It recommended red wine vinegar. I added a scant tablespoon and it automatically perked up the soup. I served it, but still lamented about its unsuccess.

Cue day two.

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Cheflebrity Smörgåsbord: 100% Hand-Made

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Following up on ML’s Table for 12 post, I’ve been thinking about cheating. Do you feel better (more authentic, more accomplished, etc.) when you cook a dish using absolutely no pre-processed ingredients? Health concerns aside, do you feel better knowing that everything that appears in your dish started out at the most elemental level possible?  Or are there certain prepared items that are just fine to include, like mayonnaise and canned chicken stock? I just ask because I made Caesar salad (not pictured above) from scratch the other night, and I was a little extra jazzed about the fact that everything — down to the breadcrumbs — was home-made.

So, is it OK to compromise on the  “authenticity” of a dish by taking one or two Sandra Lee-esque shortcuts, or does making a dish in a completely elemental way truly add a meaningful touch?

I apologize for making you think on a Wednesday.  Here’s some smörg to cleanse the palate.

– A look at Bobby Flay‘s newest cookbook, which just so happens to be part of the prize pack for our grilling contest.  Be sure to enter by midnight tonight!

– Two former Hell’s Kitchen contestants, including Robert Hesse, are joining the kitchen at a restaurant in the Hamptons.  The post gently refers to Robert as “memorable.”  You’ll likely remember him as the giant dude who collapsed at the Borgata.  Yeah, that’s memorable, alright.

After the jump…Ray-Ray keeps collecting the hardware, a culinary-journalism crisis of epic proportions and Tony Bourdain takes aim at your favorite grocery store.

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Are You America’s Craziest Griller?

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Today’s the deadline to enter the ES/Food Network How Crazy Can You Grill It Challenge.

You lazy readers are in luck, because this is probably the easiest contest we’ve ever run, and coincidentally has the best prizes.

All you have to do is email contests@endlesssimmer.com and tell us what the craziest thing you’ve ever grilled is (honor code system). The craziest griller wins an awesome grill prize pack that includes an all-clad BBQ set and a copy of Bobby Flay’s Burger, Fries, and Shakes cookbook.

Need inspiration? Check out grilling week on the Food Network or the grillin’ tag on Endless Simmer. And get those entries in now!

(Photo: McCun934)

We Can Have the Mango!

Saturday Night Live – Mango: Garth Brooks

Just like Garth Brooks, Romeo can’t have the Mango.  He used to be able to consume the divinely delicious fruit to his heart’s delight, but he OD’ed on mango during a tropical hiking trip some years back (in which at every pit stop he picked mangoes from low-hanging branches, peeled and devoured them.)  Legend has it that on that journey Romeo ate a full 15 mangoes in the space of 12 hours.  Romeo’s lovely face swelled up to twice its original size, he ran a dangerously high fever, and he developed painful blisters inside his mouth.  Some thought it was an allergic reaction to the mango.  Others suspected Romeo was the victim of a chupacabra or a voodoo curse.

Unfortunately, it was the Mango. Romeo has tried mango and mango products since and always suffers similarly grotesque results (never quite as bad as the first time).  Out of deference to Romeo’s sensitivity I do not partake in mangoes around him (I even forgo that nectar-of-the-gods commonly known as the mango lassi in subcontinental restaurants when we dine together) and I restrain myself from preparing dishes featuring mangoes in our kitchen.  Ah, the sacrifices we make for love.

But when I was invited to an island-themed potluck recently, on a night when Romeo was otherwise occupied, I couldn’t resist the temptation of the mango.  I CAN have the Mango damnit, and so can you! Sorry Romeo ?! (And sorry Liza, I know how much you hate it when a fruit is the MVI of a dish.)

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The easy, delicious,  and refreshing mango salsa recipe for the rest of us after the jump….

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