Tortillas galore at Las IV Americas Tortelleria y Panaderia

I'm never going to buy tortillas in the supermarket again.

Just a few blocks from my apartment is Las IV Americas, a Mexican tortilleria and bakery, and when I finally stopped in, I was hit by the fragrance of cornmeal and baking tortillas and wondered why I hadn't come in earlier. Stacks of tortillas were piled on the counter, still warm.

So of course I got some corn and wheat tortillas, both super fresh. I think that package of corn tortillas was a buck—and what's pictured here is about a third less of what I purchased, since I gave some away to my neighbor, SD. The whole wheat tortillas were two bucks for the pack.

When I was paying, I spotted a tray of churros on the counter, too, and couldn't resist buying one. The churro had a tube of milky custard running down the middle, too—a nice surprise, making it just the thing to nosh on during the walk back to my apartment.

And here I thought it was the altitude…

After finally having maintenance use a thermometer on the thing, I just found out that my oven has been operating at 150 degrees higher than indicated on the dial.

All those times I ended up burning things, or lamented how the high altitude seemed to be messing with my bread! I already knew something was off with my oven, and had been adjusting the dial down by 50 degrees in order to compensate, but I had no idea it was 150 freaking degrees off.

Honestly, I have no idea how I ever managed to successfully bake anything in there.

Ice cream sandwiches

This is something that happened a few years ago.

I and four other friends piled into a car. We drove to our friend's house in New Jersey, making our way there by memory. As we stood on the porch, his dogs barked furiously. We came into his house. He was not expecting us. He had not spoken to any of us in a long time.

We drank juice in his living room. We managed to convince him to leave with us, to spend the afternoon with us. On the way to the driving range, we stopped at a Dairy Queen. Their machines were broken and the only thing they had were ice cream sandwiches. We bought two packages. We ate them in the car. We took bites between going up to swing our golf clubs. The wafers were crisp and the ice cream cool and sweet. My friend was quiet. He seemed at ease. Those were the best ice cream sandwiches.

A round of cheese, a braided loaf

Sometimes you say no, and sometimes you say yes.

When Ile de France contacted me with an offer to send over one their cheeses to sample, I hesitated. I generally don't like exchanging samples for blog posts, because I don't like being obligated to write about something I might not be excited about. But then I thought about it again—hey, it's cheese! What's not to be excited about?

So when the wheel of Camembert arrived in the mail, I went off in search of a good way to use it. There were chicken breasts in the freezer, and onions on my counter; a batch of bread dough nestled at the bottom of a mixing bowl in my fridge. Once I spotted this post, I had my plan: I would bake a stuffed bread.

After dicing and caramelizing two large onions, I poached three chicken breasts, which yielded about a pound of moist, flavorful cooked meat (I used this method, but omitted the ginger and sherry because I didn't have any). I had about four ounces of turkey ham in the fridge, too, so I diced that up too. For the Camembert, I simply cut the entire wheel into slices after taking off the rind.

I had originally envisioned one loaf, but I soon realized I had enough ingredients for two—even after nearly eight months of living alone, I haven't broken the habit of cooking in mass quantity! To assemble each one, I rolled out the dough on a floured cutting board, trying to achieve an even thickness. I arranged half the chicken, half the turkey ham, and half the caramelized onions down the middle, and then layered half the cheese slices on top. Because the dough was so sticky, my first attempt at braiding the dough pretty much failed miserably, so for the second one I just ended up pressing the ends together on top to seal the dough around the filling. An egg wash would have made them prettier, but I went only with a sprinkle of grated smoked Swiss cheese, and after moving the loaves to a greased cookie sheet and letting the dough rest for ten minutes, I put them both in the oven at 400 degrees for half an hour.*

The resulting loaves came out just as I'd hoped: crusty, chewy bread with a center of chicken pieces, sweet caramelized onion, and salty, smoky bits of turkey ham, all bound by the rich, earthy-tasting Camembert. Not exactly light fare, but utterly comforting and delicious.

I think this recipe is quite flexible, too. You can substitute homemade or store-bought pizza dough instead, or any kind of bread dough really. Roasted chicken instead of poached; a different kind of ham, or bacon; a different type of cheese. Even the caramelized onions can be swapped out for something else—I've been thinking that the cranberry chutney I've got in my fridge might work pretty nicely. Next time!

Camembert, Chicken, and Caramelized Onion Loaf
by Soopling

Makes two large loaves

Bread dough, divided into two portions (I used half the yield from this dough recipe)
16 ounces poached chicken breasts (about 3 medium sized breasts), cut or torn into chunks
4 ounces turkey ham, diced
8 ounces caramelized onions (from about two large onions)
1 wheel Ile de France Camembert (7.7 ounces), sliced into pieces
Egg wash (optional)
1 ounce shredded smoked Swiss cheese (optional)

On a floured cutting board, roll out one bread dough portion into a 9x12 rectangle about one centimeter thick.

Layer half the cheese slices down the middle, and then layer half the chicken, half the turkey ham, and half the caramelized onions on top. Lift the sides of the bread dough up to close over the filling and press the ends together to seal—there shouldn't be any holes in the dough. Transfer to a greased baking sheet, flipping the loaf so that it rests seam-side down on the sheet.

Repeat with other bread dough portion and remaining ingredients. Let assembled loaves rest for ten or fifteen minutes.

Brush loaves with egg wash and/or sprinkle with shredded cheese, and bake in 400 degree oven for 30 minutes.*

*Originally I had written that these loaves should be baked at 350 degrees for half an hour. But I recently learned that my oven has been running 150 degrees too hot—which means that while I had my knob at 300 degrees while baking these loaves (to compensate for my oven running what I thought was 50 degrees hot), they were actually baking at about 450 degrees. And though these breads miraculously came out okay, I did have to rescue them a little early to prevent them from burning. I'm going to say 400 degrees, for half an hour, is the best bet for this recipe.

Risking addiction: Chick-fil-A

As a general rule I avoid fast food. I find myself at one of the chains maybe once or twice a year at best, when for whatever reason a completely random craving will hit me and I'll find myself stepping into a KFC. (Popeye's was another instance, but that was in the name of experimentation.) The one exception is when I'm on a road trip: fast food then seems not only wholly appropriate, but actually appealing. Can someone explain why that is?

Nonetheless, my semester's spring break had begun, and with my free time I decided to pay a visit to my local mall, which incidentally is a near-twin of the one I used to frequent as an undergrad, both in vibe and store selection…which is to say, there's not a lot going on there. Except for the food—Foothills Mall happens to house the city's only Chick-fil-A, a chain that people always seem to be raving about if you do a search on Chowhound or many other food sites. I figured it was high time I gave the place a try. I ordered a chicken sandwich, waffle fries, and a drink.

Here's the thing: I'm kind of sorry I ate at Chick-fil-A, and not because it was bad, though the waffle fries were forgettable. My issue is that I can't stop thinking about their chicken sandwich.

Yes, this one. Fabulously crunchy seasoned breading over breast meat so juicy it practically dripped, encased in a soft white bun and needing little more than the two pickle slices it came with. I had foregone the standard slather of butter that usually goes on the toasted bread, so I can only imagine what that extra touch of dairy would add. In my opinion, the sandwich doesn't need it: the whole thing was a perfect combination of textures and flavor on its own.

Seriously, I know fast food can taste good, because that stuff is manufactured to taste good. It's just that the results so rarely are good, and they are even more rarely this good.

Now I find myself trying to concoct reasons to visit Chick-fi—ahem, the mall. I haven't been back yet, but I have a feeling I should have never gotten started.

Prime rib, reincarnated

Remember that leftover prime rib I took home from Austin's? It sat in my fridge for several days because I couldn't figure out what I wanted to do with it. Reheating cooked steak never seems to do anything but make the meat tough, so I knew I wanted to eat it cold, but beyond that I was definitely short on inspiration for how to make it taste good.

But after rummaging around in my refrigerator I found a container of cucumber I had grated for cold soba, and it occured to me that I could cut the meat into strips for a cold steak salad with Asian flavors. I didn't take note of the proportions, just threw together rice vinegar, dark sesame oil, soy sauce, chili-garlic sauce, hoisin sauce, and the remaining au jus from the steak for a savory, spicy, tangy-sweet dressing. I laid the prime rib strips on the grated cucumber, spooned on the dressing, and sprinkled chopped scallions on top. Voila! A thoroughly lip-smacking creation for one—and a much tastier way to eat a mediocre steak.

Chock full o' scallions pancake

I got really excited when I saw a recipe for scallion pancakes posted on Use Real Butter. I have fond memories of rolling these out with my dad and trying to keep the pockets of oil, salt, and scallions from squishing out the edges of the dough. We usually made these on days we made dumplings—using the leftover dumpling dough once the filling ran out—and it was always so awesome to have a platter of scallion pancakes alongside the dumplings for the whole family to enjoy.

(Which reminds me, I really ought to tackle making dumplings from scratch sometime soon.)

Though Jen's recipe calls for vegetable oil to be spread over the rolled-out dough before adding salt and scallions, I chose to use dark sesame oil instead because I think it adds an extra depth of flavor. I also really loaded the pancakes up with chopped scallions—you can tell by how the pancakes look like they've burst apart (what can I say, I really like scallions). Finally, because I was trying to keep the fat and calories down, I used a minimal amount of oil in a nonstick pan to fry these up: I'm sure they would have been tastier had I done a more liberal pour of canola, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Hey, they were still delicious!

Cup for kids at Walrus Ice Cream

Despite MC's protests that eating ice cream on a night when the temperature hovered in the teens made no sense, after eating at Austin's American Grill the four of us walked across the street to Walrus Ice Cream for an after-dinner sugar fix. I chose a kiddie cup of mocha java, which has always been one of my favorite flavors, and the rich and creamy ice cream arrived in the perfect amount to satisfy my not-so-sweet tooth.