Esquire

There’s nothing better in the summer, but so often it comes out all wrong — the ice is melted, the coffee is diluted. Here’s how to make a proper iced coffee — one that actually resembles coffee. (You might be surprised to find that there’s a cocktail shaker involved.) Try it, and you’ll find it impossible to drink the watery mess found in chain cafes ever again. • Pour your best strong, hot coffee into a stainless steel martini shaker. • Place the shaker into an ice bucket or large bowl filled with ice and water. • When the coffee is cool, add ice to the shaker as if making a martini (and sweet condensed milk if you wish), shake vigorously, and pour into a chilled mug, leaving the offending ice behind.

Describing a man’s taste in food is simple if you follow the stereotypes.  Men like large slabs of meat cooked over a fire, with some form of potato nearby and a beer to wash it down.

There are a few problems with this.  While a steak on the grill is a great place to start, it’s certainly not the only food that I enjoy.  Secondly, that description of a manly meal isn’t even close in other parts of the world.

Living in Korea, one thing that is immediately noticeable is the difference in food.  Much of Korean food is spicy, with red chili peppers being a common ingredient.  Kimchi, the national dish, comes in many varieties, but is usually based off fermented cabbage and red pepper.

Koreans love kimchi so much, that they took it with them when they fought in Vietnam.  More recently, they took it to space.

After millions of dollars and years of research, South Korean scientists successfully engineered kimchi and nine other Korean recipes fit for space travel.

The other space food Koreans created include the national instant noodle called ramyeon, hot pepper paste, fermented soybean soup and sticky rice.

As a long time consumer of meat and potatoes, adapting to a completely different range of flavors and textures has been a challenge.  I notice that even when Korean restaurants serve Western food, they still do it with a Korean style.

Of course, the same thing is true for foreign food in America.  Anyone who has been to Italy can tell you that Italian food is not the same in Italy and the United States.  The same is true of food in China.  You won’t often find chicken’s feet and fried duck’s head on the menu in America, and I didn’t once see Egg Foo Young in Beijing.  The same is probably true in Mexico (I’ll find out one day).

As we become more global, we import more and more foods from around the world.  Each culture then takes the new foods and changes them, to suit the local palate.

Are human taste buds really that different from region to region?  I always knew taste was personal, but there seems to be a cultural element to it as well.

Here’s another example.  Almost every country I’ve lived in seems to have one food that the locals love that I just don’t.  In Spain, they had a ham called jamon serrano, which reminded me of ham jerky.  It wasn’t bad in small doses; the locals build footlong sandwiches with it.  In Korea, they have kimchi, the indispensable national dish, served with every meal.  I’m not a fan; they took it to space.  In Turkey, they have a drink called ayran, which is a yogurt drink, mixed with salt.  Locals love it; I can barely drink it, even though Turkish is one of my favorite cuisines.

On the other hand, the few foreigners I’ve talked to who have tried peanut butter react in much the same way: they don’t like it.  To me, peanut butter is one of the tastiest foods on the planet, and one (along with macaroni and cheese) that I miss the most when I’m overseas (although they have it in Korea, which is nice).  Americans love peanut butter; much of the world does not.

How can anyone not love peanut butter and macaroni and cheese?  On the other hand, how can anyone love jamon serrano or ayran or kimchi or any of the hundreds of other local delicacies that make traveling such a culinary adventure?

And then I found the answer, oddly enough, while reading an article about the eating habits of children.

Ever wonder why some youngsters approach food as an adventure and others insist on mono-meals of mac ‘n’ cheese? Turns out kiddie palates don’t happen by accident. Studies show that children prefer the flavors they experience early on, including while they’re in the womb.

That makes sense.  Children often choose one or two foods that they like and will eat nothing else.  The significance of the article to my particular query didn’t hit me until I read this:

A fetus in the second and third trimester has highly sensitive taste buds that, through “practice meals” of amniotic fluid, get to experience whatever Mom is eating. Fetuses remember flavors from this time in the womb and seek them out after birth. This process explains why adopted infants, when swept off to a new culture, years later innately prefer their native cuisine – even though they may never have actually eaten it in the conventional sense.

Children prefer the flavors that their mothers eat while they’re in the womb (and while mothers are breast feeding).  So when Spanish mothers eat jamon serrano, their children learn to love it.  Turkish mothers drink ayran, Korean mothers eat kimchi, and American mothers eat macaroni and cheese.

[As a side note, when I was in Ireland they told me that after giving birth, the new mother is given a glass of Guinness to restore her strength.  I wonder if that gets passed on as well.  At least that's a local item I can appreciate.]

As each mother eats the local food, she passes on a preference for those flavors to her child.  This brings on a kind of cultural-culinary evolution.  Those flavors that are common in the culture are passed on to the next generation, who grows up with a preference for them, eats them as an adult, and again passes it on to the next generation.

Food preference is not just about you; it’s about where you were born, and what your mother liked to eat when she had you.

So don’t blame me because I don’t like kimchi.  Blame my mother.

This article also appears on Heretical Ideas.

They say necessity is the mother of invention.

Gatorade Margaritas

Well, a while back I was hankering for a margarita but was without limes. Or even lemons.   Oh, and I also did not have any ice.

Which meant I was pretty much screwed. After all, pretty much any margarita recipe calls for limes or lemons.  And, um, ice.

What I did have, in addition to some tequila and triple sec — the active ingredients in any margarita — were several ice cold bottles of Pepsi’s diet sports drink, Gatorade G2.  We had recently bought a case of it at the Costco and I recalled that the lime flavored one was pretty good.  Figuring “How bad could it be,” I opened a bottle and took a swig to make some room.  I backfilled the container with a healthy shot of tequila (1800 Reposado, if you must know, although it probably doesn’t matter much in this recipe).  I didn’t bother with the triple sec.

It was surprisingly good.

It’s not as good as making it using the Official Manzine Margarita Recipe, of course.  But good.  And, if it’s cold enough, it’s still better than your average chain restaurant frozen margarita.  It’d probably be better with a little triple sec and poured into a salted glass filled with crushed ice.   But, frankly, if you’re going to go through that much trouble just make a real margarita.

Gatorade Rum Punch

Inspired by the above success, I attempted to expand on the technique using the “red” flavored G2.  ( I think it’s supposed to taste like fruit punch and they come close enough for a reduced calorie sports drink. )   I took a swig (notice the precision of the measurement; that’s key here) and backfilled with some rum.  (In this case, some dark rum that we’d brought back from the Bahamas.  Again, I wouldn’t reach for the top shelf.)

Another success!

Again, there are doubtless better rum punch recipes out there.  But few simpler, quicker ones.

The Grape Dilemma

The third flavor in the assortment pack is grape.   I haven’t really liked artificially grape flavored beverages since I was a kid.   I’m not sure what kind of alcohol one would pour into the grape to replicate a more complicated cocktail, as I do not drink any cocktails that are purple.   If, however, you do give it a try!   And let me know how it turns out.

Note:  No, I did not receive any compensation for PepsiCo, Costco, or anyone else for this post. Not even any free Gatorade.  If any Gatorade advertisements appear on this post, it’s a function of how the advertisements are served by a third party.

The ladies of Slate’s Double X run an experiment on what it would be like to drink like the cast of “Mad Men” while running a magazine.  It’s not pretty.

Apparently, these women have no previous exposure to alcohol, no understanding of how alcohol affects the human body, and no concept of elapsed time as portrayed on a one-hour drama.

The gals are completely hammered after a single morning Bloody Mary and act like a bunch of sorority girls at the ensuing meeting. This, despite the fact that they’re still drinking said beverages during the meeting. (Incidentally, I don’t recall any of the boys of Sterling Cooper drinking Bloody Marys during the workday — much less during morning staff meetings.)

The gals then have martinis at lunch. This is completely kosher: Roger Sterling did this frequently during the first two seasons of the show. But, unlike the silver haired name partner in the fictional advertising firm, the ladies of our virtual magazine are now completely unable to have coherent conversations.

Now, I tend not to drink much during the workday. On rare occasions, I’ll have a beer or two at lunch and sometimes I’ll do some more writing after a 5:00 martini on a Friday. Afterward, I function reasonably well doing intellectually demanding work. Then again, I’m not a novice drinker. And, like the more serious drinkers on “Mad Men,” I’m well over 200 pounds. It’s not polite to talk about women’s weight but I will boldly conjecture, having seen the video, that Hanna Rosen, Emily Bazelon, and the other Double Xers go considerably below that.

This, naturally, matters. Consider these charts from Virginia Tech:

Leave aside the issue of legal limits for operating a motor vehicle, which are the subject of some controversy. We see that small women are generally “significantly affected” by the first drink and even women in the 140-pound range are quite heavily intoxicated by the third drink in a relative short period. By contrast, a 200 point man doesn’t reach the .10 level until the 6th drink!  And notice that there are two charts:  There’s no gender equality in this game.

Rosen says “The Mad Men do this 40 times a day.” No. They don’t.

My wife chides me all the time for picking nits with logical inconsistencies in television shows and movies, telling me I should just suspend my disbelief because IT’S JUST A TV SHOW. So, perhaps I shouldn’t cast any stones on that front. Still, I’m fully cognizant of the fact that a one-hour television episode typically does not represent one hour in real time. Indeed, violating this convention is what made “24″ novel. A typical “Mad Men” show takes place over a week or more.

Don Draper and Roger Sterling might have six drinks over the course of a very long workday that extends deep into the evening. But they’ll have had maybe 2 or 3 in the course of a two hour lunch, be completely sober in time for the 5′oclock cocktail, and then pace themselves throughout a long evening during which they’ll have a very heavy meal rich in protein. Metabolically, there’s no reason they can’t maintain that pace indefinitely without being significantly impaired.

Overall, the show does a realistic job of portraying alcohol and its abuse. The junior staffers, apparently not having built up their tolerances, are frequently rather inebriated on the show by the end of the day. As the Double X ladies giggle about over lunch, one of the senior execs is depicted as a drunk who winds up fired after embarrassing himself because of his problem. Another major character is a recovering alcoholic who falls back off the wagon to his peril. Early in the current season, an executive is maimed and his career ruined by a stupid, alcohol-inspired act of an employee.

It’s not all fun even on a show that seems to glorify the good old days of being able to drink at work.

Story tip via Jason Kottke

Not every man has progressed to the culinary stage of fine wine and prime sirloin steak every night for dinner.  There are still plenty of us who are faced with an unpalatable trio of choices:

Option 1: Cook something for ourselves, knowing that we’ll spend 30 minutes preparing the food, 15 minutes eating it and another 15 minutes doing the dishes (including the ones left in the sink from three days ago, which now have to be cleaned to make room for the new ones).

Option 2: Drag some leftovers out of the fridge and reheat them in the microwave.

Option 3: Order some greasy takeout, or get in the car and hit the drive-thru for even greasier takeout.

Thankfully I am past this stage, but I remember it well.  None of your choices are all that great, and you have to deal with them every night.  Having a roommate doesn’t really help, unless you find one that likes to cook.  Other than finding a beautiful Italian woman named Francesca to move in and make you tortellini every night, what’s a man to do?

Here are three suggestions for reinvigorating common leftovers:

Macaroni and Cheese

At some point in life, usually somewhere in college, most people subsist for a time on a diet of mac and cheese.  It’s cheap, easy to make, and very flexible in terms of things you can add to it.  It also turns into a gummy yellowish substance only vaguely resembling food when you leave it in the fridge overnight (and that’s if you cover it- it’s worse if you leave it out).  You can reheat it in the microwave, but I still find the result mostly inedible.

The key to salvaging leftover mac and cheese lies in one key concept: sauce.  Take a jar of your favorite tomato sauce and slather it over the leftover macaroni.  Then cook it for 1:30-2:00 in the microwave.  There’s no need to heat the sauce beforehand; the microwave will take care of that.

The moisture from the sauce will seep down into the noodles and soften them back up.  The tomato sauce will add some flavor, since second-day macaroni lacks that warm gooiness of the first eating.  If you want to spend a little extra time, you can sprinkle some cheese or cut up a few tomatoes to go on top.

A similar principle works with chili.  Add some chili, either from a can or your own recipe, to the leftover noodles.  Mix it up and pop it in the microwave.  It will soften, add flavor and usually give you heartburn.

I’ve never tried this with other sauces, but I see no reason why it wouldn’t work.  An alfredo sauce might add an interesting flavor.  You could try a nacho cheese covering, or even a tzatziki sauce (a Greek yogurt sauce used on kebabs).

Whatever you try, you can probably have it ready in one commercial break, and definitely during halftime.

Pizza

I love cold pizza as much as the next man, and it makes a great breakfast.  Still, there are times when I want something hot for dinner, to at least provide some illusion of having a real meal.

Sauce doesn’t work as well for pizza.  You can go that route, but you have to eat it with a fork, and cutting through a reheated crust can be difficult.  We need something that lets you still eat it like a proper slice but still provides some moisture and flavor.

I like to take a big block of cheddar cheese and grate a big pile of it over the cold pizza.  Smooth it out and put it in the microwave until the cheese melts.  The grease from the cheese will sink down into the slice and make everything almost as hot and gooey as when you took it out of the box.

Chicken Alfredo

There are many things sadder than seeing a pair of cold dry chicken breasts languishing in the refrigerator, but that doesn’t mean it’s pleasant.  This is another situation where the microwave just dries things out, leaving you with tasteless dry chicken.

Here I like to combine the idea of the cheese and the sauce.  Take a slice of mozzarella, or grate some cheddar over the cold breast.  Then, smother the whole thing with alfredo sauce.  When you put that combination in the microwave, you’ll be surprised at how tender and juicy it makes the leftover chicken.  The grease from the cheese sinks down into the meat, and the layer of sauce keeps the juices from escaping and keeps everything moist.

I often have chicken with fettuccine alfredo.  You can serve it with the chicken separate of cut and mixed in with the noodles, but be sure to store it with the chicken and the noodles separate.  If you store them together, the chicken will suck up the moisture, and you will be left with an indeterminate gray sludge that will be hard to reclaim.

These are just a few ideas I use to liven up leftovers.  I’m sure there are many more.  The key for me has always been to add something like sauce or grated cheese that will keep the food moist when you reheat it.  If nothing else, it should help you resuscitate a few of those leftovers, and stave off a few trips through the drive-thru.

In the meantime, keep an eye out for Francesca.

Image Credit: Mary, Mary Quite Contrary

When I was in college, there was a restaurant named Ryan’s Tavern in town (not to be confused with the el-cheapo Ryan’s steakhouse chain). They had an all-you-can-eat Wing Night on Wednesdays, and you usually had to wait at least 45 minutes to get a table. It was worth it; Ryan’s had an incredible wing sauce that would open up the sinuses of people in the next state. One night, just as my roommate and I sat down, a couple of rednecks the next table over got their first platter of wings, and one of them leaned over to inhale the aromatic steam.

“Aw hell,” he said. “This is liable to be rough.”

His buddy replied, “Yep. Good thing I put a roll of toilet paper in the freezer before we come out here.”

Anyway, the folks who owned Ryan’s eventually retired and sold the place off. I think it’s a Mexican joint now, but one of the guys who used to work in the kitchen posted the recipe for their wing sauce on an Auburn football board a while back. For your Super Bowl Party sinus-clearing and toilet-paper-freezing enjoyment, here it is:

The sauce for Ryan’s (and you can cut this down to a more manageable portion) was:

• 2 gallons Durkee Red Hot sauce (now sold as Frank’s Red Hot)

• 1 lb margarine (don’t use butter)

• 2 cups sugar

• black & white pepper to taste (we’d use a couple of tablespoons of each)

Make sure you simmer the sauce for at least 2 or 3 hours before putting the wings in it. We’d bake the chicken juice out of the wings, drain them, then fry them. After that, they’d go into the heated wing sauce. The longer they soaked, the better they were.

Our “death sauce” included finely diced fresh jalapenos (don’t use the pickled ones) and red pepper flakes. It was also made a day in advance to let the “heat” out of the jalapenos and pepper flakes.

A few weeks ago, I reviewed three of my favorite scotches for this magazine. One of those scotches was the Dalmore Cigar Malt, which for awhile had been my everyday scotch. However, I’ll admit that upon the time of writing that review, it did seem like the Cigar Malt was hard to find. Well, as it turns out, there was a reason for that. Sadly, I was contacted by a representative of the Dalmore and informed that the Cigar Malt has been taken off the market.

Happily, though, to make up for this, they provided me with samples of four single malts from the Dalmore line, so that I can share my impressions with you. I know–the life of a scotch reviewer is not an easy one, but I do what I can. (Oh, and because someone asked, I taste scotch by first examining the sniffing the scotch straight, then I add it to two or three cubes of ice as my dilution. I know that tradition dictates tasting with straight water, but I prefer my scotch on the rocks.) Here’s the lowdown:

The Dalmore 12-Year Single Malt

One thing that I like about the Dalmore line is that their standard scotch has a 12 year maturation period instead of the usual 10. It pays off. The color of this one is a nice, clear brown–almost like a maple syrup. The undiluted aroma was sweet yet astringent, with definite notes of oak. Diluted, the aroma became sweeter, more like honey, with the wood notes pushed back. My impression of this scotch, feel wise, is that it’s quite dry–a little drier than I usually like my whiskey. There are definite notes of honey and oak interplaying with each other, and while it’s not the smoothest scotch, the finish lingers like a white wine, and as I sipped I found myself enjoying the interplay of dry and sweet more than I did initially. This is my least favorite of the line but it’s definitely a fine sipping scotch.

Alex’s Arbitrary Scotch Rating: 7.5 out of 10

The Dalmore Gran Reserva

The Dalmore Gran Reserva is made by marrying whiskeys aged in Sherry and Bourbon barrels at a 2 to 1 ratio, then aged together after marriage in the Sherry for another six months. The result is a beautiful copper color that was a pleasure to just look at in the glass. Undiluted, the scotch gave off a lovely combination of peat and grapes, with a little pine in the background. Dilution pushed the grape into the background, with the peat and wood notes making their way to the fore. Not surprisingly, this made its way into the initial flavors, which was very peaty, with oak notes and hardly any sweetness except a strong flavor of lemon peel. The mouthfeel was dry and crisp, with a very clean finish. An excellent scotch to enjoy after a good steak.

Alex’s Arbitrary Scotch Rating: 8.4 out of 10

The Dalmore King Alexander III

The King Alexander III is aged in several different kinds of barrels, then married together. It was named in honor of a hero from the MacKenzie clan saving the life of King Alexander III in 1263. The scotch itself is a delightful reddish-gold, with sweet citrus and floral aromas, along with some herb and spices. It is warm and viscous in the mouth without any strong, foreground flavors. Instead, the King Alexander III consists of a wonderful interplay of citrus, spice, honey, and floral notes without any champion–somewhat like a semi-sweet wine or a well-aged bourbon. It would make a great accompaniment to a strong cigar. Simply magnificent.

Alex’s Arbitrary Scotch Rating: 8.8 out of 10

The Dalmore 15-Year Single Malt

What a difference three years makes. Vive la difference! This scotch is a deep, bronze color with undiluted aromas of brown sugar, honey, oak and peat. Dropping the ice cubes in produced stronger wood notes, along with some floral aromas and some definite honey in the background. The mouthfeel was smooth and dry, with a crisp finish that lingered but was much smoother and more balanced than the 12 year. The flavors were nice and deep, with the honey and oak in the foreground while the peat and floral notes hung around in the background. This scotch is an absolute joy to drink and is almost certainly going to be the next bottle of scotch that I buy. For me, this is the perfect scotch. Not too sweet, not too dry, not too peaty, not too oaky. It’s beautifully well-balanced and crisp. I highly recommend it.

Alex’s Arbitrary Scotch Rating: 9.5 out of 10

All in all, I think that the four scotches I sampled in the Dalmore line provide a nice variety of different scotch experiences, and all of these are well worth your time and pursuit.

Anyone else try a Dalmore scotch? What did you think?

Last weekend was the belated celebration of my birthday. For more than two years, my wife and I had been reluctant to have people over because our apartment, while relatively spacious for the neighborhood, was cramped with all the crap we’d accumulated before we were married. So one of the criteria for our recent home buying experience was space to entertain.

Since having moved in just over two months ago, we have already made ample use of our bigger digs for hosting dinner parties and random gatherings. After spending some time floating down the local river here in Calgary in two rafts with some good friends, we agreed that we wanted to have folks over for a victory meal complete with snacks, dinner, and fresh and locally brewed libations.

The question, of course, was what to eat. I decided, given my current desire to dig into and explore my manhood more thoroughly, to go with one of the all-time favorite male meals: hamburgers.

As children we look at home made hamburgers with nothing shy of derision. But last Saturday reminded me why it is that making one’s own burger is the only way to go.

I’ve been to a number of different restaurants that claim to specialize in the burger and, indeed, some of them made a good one. But when the patty hits the grill, there remains no restaurant that can out-do the average Joe and the open grill of his personal barbecue.

The secret is, somewhat ironically, all in the patty.

All too often, though, burger makers spend all of their time amassing a wide variety of rare and exotic condiments while ignoring the main course.  To be sure, there is something to be said for picking out precisely the kind of cheese or mixing up a chipotle mayo if that floats your boat. Some folks like to craft their own barbecue sauce, which can be an art unto itself. And still others will tell you that it is all in the relish.

But none of it matters if you’re putting it on an uninspired hockey puck of a product purchased in bulk and frozen.  As the saying goes, you can put lipstick on a pig…

Making your own patties from scratch,  however, opens you up to a whole new world of quality and taste.

In the patties that were made for our party, I included: two organic eggs (per batch), sea salt, freshly ground pepper, freshly chopped organic garlic, freshly chopped ginger, organic rolled oatmeal, organic hot sauce, and some organic salsa that was, admittedly, bought as I didn’t have time to make my own from scratch.

Those patties, grilled on a open flame and served up still sizzling from the barbecue, tasted unlike anything you can buy in any restaurant no matter how far and wide you chose to search.They made every condiment that we had spread out jump just a little bit more. And when combined with the local brew, there was no question in anyone’s mind that our victory meal from conquering the river befitted our glory.

There are a few classic dishes I’ve never made, because they’re just too easy to find at restaurants. The problem with living in Colorado Springs is finding real Italian – you know, a place where you can order a chicken parmigiana and get something better than a dried-out chicken breast covered in canned marinara and low-fat mozzarella. So I learned how to make…

A Damn Fine Chicken Parmigiana

Tyler Florence did this one on Food TV a while back, but I changed it up some. Also, I’ve made the directions a little more explicit, for people like me who don’t manage kitchen time very well.

You’ll need:

2 skinless chicken breasts
Extra virgin olive oil (we almost never measure our olive oil, so just do like us and keep a gallon tin on hand at all times)
2 cloves of garlic, minced or smashed
1 fresh bay leaf
1/2 bunch of basil leaves, chopped or torn
A white onion, chopped
1 large can (28 oz) of whole tomatoes
1 tablespoon Chianti
1/4 cup flour
1 egg
1 cup plain breadcrumbs (the stuff in the cardboard can is fine)
1 small ball of fresh mozzarella, or 2 small ones (call it 1/4 pound or so)
A wedge of Parmigianino Reggiano (the undisputed King of Cheeses)
6 oz spaghetti

This first step will make your whole house smell like you’ve been cooking something wonderful all day, but it only takes five minutes. Coat the bottom of a small saucepan with olive oil and bring it up to medium heat. While it’s coming up to temp, roll up your sleeves and hand-crush the tomatoes in a colander. Give’em a good rinse, and leave them be. Now that the oil is hot, drop in the bay leaf, onion, and garlic. Stir for four minutes or so, then add the tomatoes.

Reduce to medium-low heat and let the sauce simmer for 12-15 minutes, stirring occasionally (and tasting often). Pour the Chianti in there, too, and season with salt and pepper.

Get the oven preheating to 450, and cover the sauce on low heat. Or on no heat, if you’re moving slowly through these steps. You can always bring it back to a simmer later.

Take out two plates and a small bowl. Cover one plate with the flour, and season it thoroughly with salt and pepper. Put the egg in the bowl and whip it lightly. Next to that, cover the second plate with your breadcrumbs.

Now comes the fun part: Abusing dead animals!

Place the chicken breasts between two sheets of wax paper, and pound the little bastards until they’re 1/3-inch thick. And here’s a tip learned the hard way: Put the smooth side of the chicken facing up and use the smooth side of the mallet. Much less messy that way.

Put a large pot full of water on the stove to boil.

Place the chicken breasts next to the plate of flour, next to bowl of egg, next to the plate of bread crumbs, next to the stovetop. On the stovetop, take your best 8-inch, oven-safe skillet and bring 2 more tablespoons of olive oil up to medium heat.

Roll up your sleeves if you haven’t already, and remove your watch and rings, too. Take the first chicken breast and lightly coat it in the flour. Dip it in the egg and let the excess drip off. Take the mess you’ve made and cover it in breadcrumbs. Throw it in the skillet and repeat with the second chicken breast. Fry them for no more than 3.5 minutes on each side. Remove from heat, but otherwise leave it be.

Here’s where we find out if your skillet really is oven-safe.

Ladle the simmering sauce (very, very generously) on top of the chicken, right there in the pan. Tear the mozzarella and portion it out on top of the sauce. Now take your parm-reg and your best grater, and cover – and I mean cover – the whole mess with parm. If you use less than three ounces, you don’t get any wine with dinner.

Put the pan in the oven and bake it at 450 for 10-12 minutes. If you keep an eye on the cheese, you’ll know when it’s done. As soon as the chicken is in the oven, add the spaghetti to the boiling water, along with a pinch of salt.

Strain the pasta after about nine minutes, by which time the chicken is almost ready to go.

Here’s the really tough part. Do you serve the pasta on the chicken, under the chicken, or with a little olive oil next to the chicken? The choice is yours.

Oh, and that Chianti you opened just to get a tablespoon? Pour a glass, have a sip, and serve dinner already.

Serves two people who love their cheese, but hate dried-out chicken.

Photo by Flickr user the food pornographer under Creative Commons license.

I am relatively new to the regular enjoyment of wine. It wasn’t all that long ago that I thought wine essentially came in two types, i.e., red and white, and was categorized from there on a spectrum from cheap to insanely expensive. I can safely say I know more than that these days, although I am mostly to the point where I know what I like, even if I can’t tell you exactly why.

My tastes run towards merlots, zinfindels, and shirazes, although I have no objections to cabernets. In truth, I am will to try anything, but as noted, I am far from a connoisseur. Indeed, I am still at the stage where each new label or grape is still part of a process of discovery.

My tastes and skills in regards to the fruit of the vine has only evolved so far, but I can certainly tell the difference between a $4.00 or $5.00 dollar bottle and an $8/$10/$12 bottle (the latter price range being my upper limit normally). I have to date avoided finding out what a $30/$40/$50+ bottle taste like for fear I would like it too much.

One aspect of my process of discovery of the world of wine is the desire to try out new wines. Of course, such exploration can be expensive and since my wife does not care for reds, an open bottle means committing to the whole thing myself (not, however, in one sitting, of course). Still, this makes me a bit cautious in trying out new labels.

I will confess that my main wine suppliers are Costco and World Market—not exactly fine bottle shops to be sure, but they do have nice selections for my skill level and the prices are agreeable. World Market’s propensity to have specials on new wines is especially appealing to my interest in exploration. This led to the sampling of a Spanish shiraz, Opera Prima ‘08, for the remarkably low price of $4.97 a bottle (a price I typically find equals “undrinkable”). However, I was pleasantly surprised at its quality, so much so that I went back to stock up while the price remained low (and to date, it has remained such).

The Opera Prima shiraz is a full bodied wine, with a complex finish that suggests berries, which to me ranges from a dark cherry to a blackberry. I think it is one of the better shirazes that I have tried to date.

My positive experience with the Opera Prima shiraz led to the purchase of a couple bottles of their tempranillo, also only $4.97 at World Market and also impressive for that price. I found the tempranillo to have a pleasant, almost floral aroma and had a pleasant finish. I would say that the tempranillo is a drier wine than the shiraz.

My general experience with the wines above led me to try a few other Spanish wines, each of which were in the $9-$12 range. One was at Garnacha de Fuego and the other was a Zestos tempranillo/garnacha blend. Neither was, to me, as good as the far cheaper Opera Prima. In fact, the Zestos had a disappointing finish that I associate with run of the mill cheap cocktail party reds.

However, not all the cheap Spanish wines at World Market are worth trying. I also gave a Solaz 2006 tempranillo/shiraz blend a try. It, like the Opera Prima, was $4.97, but unlike the Opera Prima, it tasted like a $5 bottle of wine.

Bottom line: if you come across the Opera Prima shiraz (or tempranillo) it is worth a try, even if it seems too cheap to be any good.

Photo by Steven Taylor

It’s simple and tasty and goes great with french fries. It’s…

Emergency Flank Steak

You’ll need:

• A Flank steak

• About a half cup or so of cooking oil

• 3 or 4 or 5 tablespoons of Dijon mustard

• 2 tablespoons or more of Worcestershire sauce

• The juice of a lemon

• 3 cloves of garlic, crushed

• A splash of red wine vinegar

• 1 gallon-size freezer bag

If you’ve got a Cuisinart MiniPrep, dump everything in there but the steak and give it a good whirl. If not, just use a blender.

Get the flank steak into the Ziploc, and pour the marinade over it. Force out the air by hand, or close the bag around a straw and suck it out.

Put the freezer bag in the freezer and forget about it – until a half day before you’re craving some tasty flank steak. After it’s been completely thawed for at least an hour, throw it on the grill for three-to-five minutes on each side. Then slice thin and on the bias.

Serve with the simplest salad you can think of, a pile of fries, and a big, dumb Zinfandel.

NOTE: We go to Sam’s Club and buy four flank steaks at a time. Quadruple the marinade recipe, and portion it out with the steaks into four separate freezer bags. Of course, we suffer a lot of flank steak emergencies.

• Some cake or torte or something involving lots of butter and eggs and chocolate.

• Two glasses of tawny port.

Last Saturday, I had the occasion to drink three different beers. And given that this is not a rare occurrence for me, I thought I’d start sharing my tasting notes here at ManZine. So enjoy!

Delirium Nocturnum Belgian Ale

Delerium Nocturnum is brewed by the Huyghe Brewery in Ghent, Belgium. The initial pour from the bottle settled into the glass with a nice, white head and the ale itself was a dark, caramel color that was slightly cloudy. The head itself lingered on the glass in a lacy pattern. The initial aroma of this dark ale revealed strong notes of cherry and malt with hints of what I can only describe as peat, as I’ve encountered the same note in scotch before.

The initial tastes of this ale were definitely nicely sour with notes of malt and some red wine. After the initial notes faded, the midtaste was very pleasurable, combining hints of cherry and oak, and the finish lingered in a good way with a sweet cherry malt aftertaste. It was a nice smooth beer that excellently accompanied the steak I had for dinner.

Alex’s Arbitrary Beer Rating: 7.5/10

Boulevard Single-Wide IPA

For those of you fortunate enough to live in the Midwest, you’re not doubt aware of the wonders that constantly come from the Kansas City-based Boulevard Brewing Company, which makes some of the best beers on planet Earth. Still, even with that reputation, I’m not going to lie that I was a little nervous before I tried the Single-Wide IPA. Generally speaking, I don’t care for too strong a hops flavor in a beer, and well, I’d never actually had an IPA that I enjoyed.

So it was a wonderful thing to finally find an IPA that I enjoyed from the pour, which revealed a nice color (similar to a caramel candy) and a nice foamy, almost sparkling head. The initial aroma was sweet, with notes of grapefruit, hops and flowers. On tasting, the initial notes were floral, followed almost immediately by a lovely combination of white grapes and honey. The aftertaste was crisp but bitter, and the texture of the beer as a whole was simply bubbly and delightful. This is a fantastic ale for the summertime, and I’m a little sad that I only discovered it in mid-August when I could have been drinking them since May.

Alex’s Arbitrary Beer Rating: 8.5/10

McChouffe Artisan Style Belgian Ale

McChouffe is brewed by the Achouffe Brewery, and represents a Belgian interpretation of a Scotch Ale. This is a rich, fine looking beer the color of molasses with a white, frothy head. The initial aroma is one of a delightful roasted malt, and the initial flavor is filled with notes of coffee and hops. The flavors develop more as the coffee subsides to reveal bitter chocolate with notes of caramel, and the finish is nice and clean with barely any aftertaste. This is simply one of the finest Belgian Ales I’ve ever had.

Alex’s Arbitrary Beer Rating: 8.5/10

Around 100 bartenders from 52 countries were competing in the annual contest, organized by the International Bartender’s Association. It consists of two sections — flair and classic. In the classic category, bartenders spend most of their time working with ingredients to make the best tasting cocktail they can. In the flair category, they show off their mixing skills with a routine that could involve anything from juggling bottles and shakers and a precarious balancing of glassware to strange and interesting ways of incorporating fruit or other cocktail garnishes. [...] Bartenders are supposed to prepare three drinks during an acrobatic performance — their final score is based two-thirds on the act, and one-third on the taste of the resulting drinks. So Rodoman’s year of practice was all for nothing. But during his act, he was surrounded by a cheering, half-drunk audience (an average of 300 a night come to the contest), their admiring eyes on him while their hips shook to dance music. [...] The heats of the classic section were conducted on a stage in 13 rounds. Four barmen performed during each round with the winner of each round advancing to the finals. The system, used for the first time in Berlin, proved controversial. “Imagine having Malta, the Faroe Islands, Luxembourg and Iceland in a round before the World Cup,” complained Turkish bartender, Ugur Dervisoglu, whose drink was called “Berlin’s Painkiller.” “They’re not the best teams but one of them must advance. And then you have a round with England, France, Germany and Brazil. Which means that the best drinks didn’t make it into the finals.” Many of the competitors agreed with Dervisoglu — but of course, they tended to be among the bartenders who didn’t advance into the finals. In the classic section contestants were given six minutes to prepare five similar cocktails. Recipes for the drinks and any decorations — there are very strict rules for these — had been submitted to the judging committee three months before the event. Once on stage, contestants were judged on the cleanliness of their work, their methods and whether they had used the right amount of alcohol. Once mixed, four waitresses took the drinks to a room on the second floor. There, 12 judges tasted each drink and, just like the haughtiest wine snobs, assessed it for aroma, appearance and taste.

Over the years quite a lot of you have asked about how to start brewing your own beer. The short answer is that it’s pretty easy! Find your nearest homebrew supply store and introduce yourself. Most of those guys love to help beginners get started, and the few jerks won’t mind if you keep going to the next homebrew shop down the road.

As an added incentive to get yourself started, here are FAQ-formatted answers to questions that would-be homebrewers often ask.

How much time does brewing take?

Making good beer takes about a month total, although the brewer only needs to work for about six hours of that. Brew day generally needs about three hours. Then you give the yeast a week or two in a primary fermenting vessel (usually an eight-gallon plastic bucket with lid). You usually siphon the beer into a secondary fermenter where it sits for another week or two to clean up the flavors. Bottling takes another three-ish hours of work, then two more weeks for bottle-fermenting. Then you’re ready to go.

How much does it cost?

If you buy everything new, the durable goods for your first batch should cost $70-100. I would spend another $50-$100 for useful extras such as a copper-coil wort chiller, a tap-threaded bottle washer and a secondary fermenter, but you can go without if cost is a problem. Consumables for each batch will range from as low as $15 for a pre-mixed syrup with dry packet yeast (that you will probably regret) to $60-$70 for a high-alcohol specialty recipe with exotic ingredients. Expect to spend about $40 for the ingredients in a typical medium-strength beer recipe.

How much beer will I get per brew?

One 5-gallon batch produces two cases worth of beer. If filling and capping forty-eight bottles sounds like no fun, either use larger 22-oz bottles or look into kegging at home.

Can I make my favorite kind of beer?

With one notable exception, the answer is almost certainly yes. Homebrewers have diligently reverse-engineered ‘clone’ recipes for nearly every commercial brew on the market. If you want to make your own homemade Dead Guy Ale, the odds are pretty good that a recipe is already out there. Further, most beer styles are doable once you know the basics. The major exception to this rule is lager beer. The lagering process is ultra-sensitive to mistakes, making it an unforgiving style for beginners. Worse, you basically cannot do it at all unless you have access to temperature-regulated cold rooms. If you need lager beer then keep buying cases of Budvar until you get quite good at turning out porters and pale ales.

Where can I find out more about brewing?

(1) Find a shop near you and get to know the guys who work there. Either they will be thrilled to help you get started, or you shouldn’t shop there anyway. (2) The book list here is a great place to start. I enjoyed The Complete Joy of Homebrewing; others recommend The Brewmaster’s Bible.

How much space will I need?

Unless you have particular skill with stacking things, plan to set aside a small dining room table’s worth of space somewhere in your property. Basement space is a prime spot for cases of empty bottles and unused gear.

That covers most of the questions that non-brewers typically ask, but we are not done yet. Here are a couple more points that will save many novice brewers from pain and tears.

How do I keep my beer from turning bitter, nasty, full of stringy crap and exploding out of overpressurized bottles?

Both yeast and bacteria can potentially grow on sugary mash. You want yeast to win. Hops keep bacteria under control to some degree, but hops won’t save the batch if you handle it carelessly. Here are a few tips from a guy who uses sterile technique for about ten hours most week days. First of all, everything that touches the beer gets soaked first with no-rinse sanitizer. No-rinse works better for me than the other kind because you just soak, drip-dry and you’re ready to go. Once the initial boil is done I handle everything with rubber kitchen gloves, and I keep those sterile by routinely dunking in a bucket of the same no-rinse sanitizer. Finally, I avoid leaving my beer open to the air as much as possible. After fifteen batches without bacteria I’d say that the trouble is worth it.

The second way to keep bacteria under control is to use pre-grow your yeast in a decent-sized ‘starter culture’. To do this, prepare a one-liter ‘growler’ bottle of mash two days before the main brew day and pitch your yeast in that. 48 hours later the yeast should be awake and fermenting like mad. When you pitch a vigorous starter culture into your main brew, the yeast will have the beer up to 5% alcohol before bacteria can get their pants on.

What is the most dangerous moment in brewing?

This question has two answers. The biggest red zone of your entire brewing career unquestionably comes at the particular moment when your sugary mash first starts to boil. Unattended mash WILL foam over onto the stovetop. Then you get a thick layer of sticky, smelly, burned goo on and around your burners, on the floor and spreading. If this happens on your very first batch, with a skeptical spouse looking over your shoulder waiting for exactly that to happen, there may not be a batch #2! To prevent this, keep a brewing thermometer in your mash and watch it like a hawk for the moment when it crosses over to a rolling boil. As soon as foam starts to rise, lift the whole pot off the burner and wait for the foam to settle back down, then return the pot to the burner. Depending on how strong you want your beer, you need to repeat this process three to five to eight times before the mash settles into a clean rolling boil. Also, do not cover a pot of boiling mash, ever. Trust me.

Brewing also involves involves several steps where you need lift your batch to something elevated like a chair to siphon it into another container. A 5-gallon batch of beer weighs about 45 pounds, so lift with your knees! There is a 50% chance that you have a greater-than-average risk of straining your back.

Now, as Hillel might have said, go home and brew.

This essay was previously published at Balloon Juice as “A Homebrewing Guide For The Perplexed.” Image courtesy Boing Boing Gadgets.