The Perfect Rack — Lamb Ribs

At The Farm and Fisherman in Philadelphia last week, it wasn’t just the bloody beet steaks that were a hit. I especially enjoyed the lamb ribs. I don’t recall ever seeing lamb ribs on a grocery shelf before, let alone a restaurant menu, but it makes sense: lambs must have ribs, which could only mean we are meant to eat them.

I decided I had to cook this myself for Sunday night dinner. But where to find the lamb ribs? I tracked them down at Whole Foods, where I had to speak with the butcher as they weren’t on the shelf. The Farm and Fisherman served their ribs sumac crusted, but I was unable to find sumac and was only offered moderate encouragement, so I decided to go a different route. I found this New York Times recipe, which I used as a base, straying somewhat for creative ownership.

Recipe after the jump.

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Food Porn Champion: Poutine Tater Tots

We love poutine. We love tater tots. We are SO EFFING MAD at ourselves for not thinking of poutine tater tots before someone else did.

Chef Kyle Bailey — yes, the same mad genius behind The New Luther — well be hawking this deep-fried stroke of genius around Washington D.C. all week. Only 20 orders of “Wonky Tots” will be available per lunch shift (11 AM to 2 PM), and those of you lucky enough to live there will have to follow @eatwonky and @churchkeydc to find out where his food truck will be.

The Endless Road Trip — Philadelphia’s Top 10 Eats 1. There Will Be Blood…and Beets

Endless Simmer is expanding our food travel coverage to bring you reports from cities around the country. First stop: Philly. Enjoy Part 1 in our series of 10 incredible edibles the ES team found while stuffing our faces through the city of brotherly love.

I’ll admit…it’s hard for me to get excited about beets.  They are nice in a simple salad and I certainly get why vegetarians hold them in high esteem, since they add heft and substance to a meatless dish.  Still, they’ve never been something I would go out of my way to order.

But how could I resist when the menu promised Bloody Beet Steak?

This appetizer, available at The Farm and Fisherman, has been generating buzz on the local Philly restaurant scene, and for good reason. It’s not your everyday beet salad.  The Bloody Beet Steak, shown above, is about the diameter of a CD and comes accompanied by homemade yogurt and a pan jus, under a layer of (probably unnecessary) amaranth. But it’s the preparation of the beet itself that really makes the dish really unique.

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Cocktail O’Clock: Not Your Typical Russian

Vodka isn’t one of my favorite libations but I am partial to anything milky, especially in the fall, so when I stumbled upon the Batidas, a Brazilian version of the White Russian on a recent visit to Station 4 here in DC, I was pleasantly surprised. They were kind enough to share the recipe.

Coconut Batidas

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Gridiron Grub: Polenta Crab Fries

Starting Monday, you’ll hear all about the dining/debauchery that went on when the entire ES crew descended upon Philly for a weekend. To ease us into that, here’s a Gridiron Grub dish inspired by my favorite football-related Philly food stop: Chickie and Pete’s Crab Fries.

Chickie and Pete’s is a local restaurant that started in the late 70’s and has grown to include locations in all the city’s stadiums, Philadelphia International Airport, southern New Jersey and more. It sounds like a chain and out-of-towners grow even more perplexed by the fact that these “crab” fries don’t even contain crab. Despite this obvious omission, for locals they are synonymous with hot summer nights watching the Phils and cool fall afternoons with the Eagles. That being said, if you are not from Philly and you saw ES  put up a recipe about sprinkling some Old Bay on french fries, I know we would get even more complaints than we do about our potty mouths. So, here’s my updated take, with some much needed crustacean added in.

Polenta Crab Fries w/Horseradish Cream Sauce

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Pink Ribbons Everywhere: Lay off the Eggs

Watch a football game and you’ll catch your QB decked with pink cleats. Walk through the make-up counters at the mall and you’ll notice pink lipsticks, perfume bottles and nail polish.

Susan G. Komen is everywhere. As National Breast Cancer Awareness Month, October’s normal hue of black and orange now rages pink. Halloween costumes over. Pink ribbons abound.

And now, those little swirls sit atop the Eggland’s Best dozen.

We don’t have to get into the idea that this “pink washing” may not even do any good. It might not rattle the public’s attention or increase donations.

Cancer fucking sucks. Obviously.

But, seriously, lay off the eggs.

Everything’s Bigger in Texas (Including the Tacos)

Texas. Land of Shiner Bock, queso, beef, dry rub BBQ, and Mexican (okay, Tex-Mex) food. Truly one of my favorite places to chow down. I visited Austin and San Antonio at the end of September, partially to join the 10th Anniversary celebration of Austin City Limits, but let’s be honest, also partially to eat everything I set my eyes on.

I’ll go ahead and admit it, authentic Mexican is great but my heart truly belongs to Tex-Mex, something of which my hometown of Seattle has very little. I knew I had to take advantage of Texas while I could, so one day we headed to the Hildebrand area of San Antonio to a little…establishment…well.. fast food-ish shack imaginatively called Taco Taco.

Quite the luxurious digs, eh? No matter, everyone knows that some of the best food comes from some of the most unassuming exteriors. I took it as a good sign. Speaking of signs, inside Taco Taco there are multiple signs and banners proclaiming that they were named “Best Tacos in America” by Bon Appetit (a bit of internet research informs me this honor was bestowed in 2007). It has also garnered a fair amount of recognition from various Texas publications over the years, so I had to see if it could live up to the hype. Plus I just have a very tacky propensity for needing to try anything proclaimed the biggest, best, most famous, etc…. So I knew I had to go for it and order the taco that made Taco Taco famous: the El Taco Norteño.

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