To Thine Own Self, Be Food

Where everybody knows your name. Doodoodoodoodoodoo. If you don't have the 'Cheers' theme song going through your head, then you need to go right now to The Google and find it and listen to it. Today, let's discuss bars, pubs, watering holes, etc. etc. Bars are often known for a special cocktail, cheap draws of beer, super-good bar food, a great Saturday night DJ, an excellent convivial atmosphere, or comfy bar seats.  Sometimes...a bar gets lucky and is all of the above on these things.  More often than not, though, the watering hole itself scores high in only a couple categories. Enter The Gate House Restaurant .  Incidentally, my place of employment for the last three (and next three) months. 1. Special cocktail: Yes.  A whole list of specialty drinks are available, including fruity martinis and a pickled Bloody Mary.  Jesse (inventor of the island-famous BaderBomb), Chad, Emma, Shannon, and Dre know how to pour an excellent Tanqueray and Toni...

It was Wednesday. I had the day off. Stella’s brakes were shot and her back tire was flat. After dropping the bike off at a repair shop, my watch said noon.   My stomach said lunch. I ended up at the Pancake House. How do you like the hard-boiled detective (a la Dragnet) narrative I’ve got going?   No?   Very well. I am a big fan of breakfast.   No, wait...I am a big fan of breakfast at any time of the day.   And naturally, when I walked into The Pancake House at noon on a weekday, I assumed I’d be ordering breakfast.   I’d order the weirdest, more creative breakfast item on the menu.   That’s what I thought would happen, anyway, when I sat down and perused the menu.   But, then I realized...breakfast at The Pancake House was, well, mundane.   Skillets, omelettes, and the like.   And honestly, I can get all that at Denny’s. Plan B: Cheeseburger.   So...

I have begun to suspect that when I return home to Iowa in another three months... Hey!  I'm about halfway done with this internship!  Whoohoo! Anyway. I will spend a lot of my welcome-back time fielding one of two questions: 1.  So.  What will you do now? 2.  What amazing stuff did you learn in Michigan? And I anticipate my answers will be as follows: 1. I don't know.  Or, I'm still trying to figure that out! 2. I learned lots of little things, hard to describe unless I'm in a kitchen. The fact of the matter is, I don't know what lies ahead for me.  I suspect that getting back into education is somewhere in my future...but that's a ways away.  I do know that I won't be making a career out of being a line cook, even though I have been gaining very valuable experience there.  However, I can't say I wouldn't work in a restaurant...because there's some very awesome restaurants out there I'd love to be a part of. I also suspec...

Today’s blog entry will not be endorsed by the American Heart Association or Michelle Obama. Just so you know. The common thread between this post and the last one is gravy.   I used to think it was strictly an American thing, and that we had a fetish for covering our food with a starchy, meaty sauce. But nope, turns out Canada’s been riding (and rocking) the gravy train for way longer than we have...but they do it with a lot more panache and pride than we do. When Brent and the kids were visiting a couple of weeks ago, we decided to take a trip into Canada.   Why?   Because it was less than an hour away.   And because it’s a different country.   Miles became kilometers, the price of gas per gallon became the price per liter, Spanish translation of English signage became French translation.   Also, on two separate occasions we saw parents on bikes hauling their small children in wagon-looking contraptions...a s...

To me, pasty has to be one of the funniest words in the English language.   Say it with a long ‘a’ sound (pay-stee), and you get an adjective that describes most Midwestern complexions from November through April.   In another context, a pasty, pronounced the same as above, is a noun that describes the decorative adhesive bit strippers cover their nipples with. Hahaha.   See how funny that is? Now, say the word with a short ‘a’ sound (past-ee).   The first thing that might come to mind, if you’re a Harry Potter fan, are the Pumpkin Pastie goodies served on the Hogwarts Express.   They’re never really described fully, so one just assumes they are a yummy, sweet, confectionary pastry.   And the second thing that comes to mind, which will probably be the first thing if you’re from Northern Michigan, is the delicious meat-and-veg concoction wrapped in a pastry shell. Pasty restaurants are in abundance here Up North. ...

...that I would like to get forget about forever and ever and ever. It is my hope that I've been missed here at 'Be Food', and that you've all been maintaining a midnight vigil until my return...but I suppose that would be too much to ask. Where do I begin to explain where the hell I've been the last month-plus? Well, I'm not sure if I ever said here, but I was struck mad by some kind of cold-swollen throat virus sometime mid-to-late May.  I felt so poorly that I actually went to the island medical center...where I was told that I would just have to wait it out and keep taking over the counter medications to assuage the pain. Pssht.  I should have just called my mom.  She would have said the same thing, and I wouldn't have had to pay for it.  Or rather, my insurance.  For three days in a row after this, I slogged my way through work (thankfully we weren't terrifically busy yet), and then I came straight home, guzzled an adult amount...