Back in Europe, many of our friends insisted that the U.S. has no food culture, no cuisine. I beg to differ. In fact, there is only one sense in which I will concede they were right: America doesn't have a cuisine, it has cuisines.
From the crab cakes of the Chesapeake to the unparalleled flavor of wild NW salmon, our cross-country drive last October was in large part a culinary sampling of the United States. Often we relied on the advice of our local foodie friends, like Alithea in Austin and Jason in San Francisco. In the vast in-between parts of the country, however, our primary map was Roadfood, a down-home food guide compiled by Jane & Michael Stern.
Roadfood took us to the Beacon Drive-In in Spartansburg, South Carolina, with orange formica booths, pulled-pork sandwiches, gallons of sweet tea, and colorful order "callers" ("And make that hot, hot, hot ... like me."). There were stops at Marvin's for fried chicken in Montgomery and the Wheel Inn outside of Los Angeles for real roast turkey and mashed potatoes. And of course, while in California, we made the mandatory pilgrimage to In & Out Burgers (slightly disappointing, but then again it was 10:30 in the morning).
Another eye-opener for me: real BBQ in Texas. Alithea, who took us to Franklin BBQ in Austin (900 E. 11th), likes to say that BBQ sauce is an admission of failure. Now I understand why. At Franklin's, the brisket and ribs are so gently cooked that they fall to pieces in your fingers, and the flavor of the meat is so perfectly enhanced by the smoke of the pit that it feels like sacrilege to eat them any way but plain. I will never look at BBQ (or BBQ sauce) the same way again.
San Francisco, of course, is its own land of cuisine-ary opportunities, from bakeries like Tartine (600 Guerrero St.) that rival the best in Paris (no, really, it's true), to a vegan Mexican restaurant (yes, vegan Mexican) that was shockingly good (Gracias Madre, 2211 Mission St.). As if that weren't enough for one day, we wrapped up our visit with homemade ice-cream sundaes at Bi-Rite Creamery (3692 18th St.).
But I was talking about the Taqueria Pico de Gallo, named for its fantabulous dessert: big slippery wedges of fresh and smooth mango, papaya, watermelon and pineapple, doused with chili powder, salt and freshly squeezed lime juice. Seriously, I could swear off chocolate for this.
From the crab cakes of the Chesapeake to the unparalleled flavor of wild NW salmon, our cross-country drive last October was in large part a culinary sampling of the United States. Often we relied on the advice of our local foodie friends, like Alithea in Austin and Jason in San Francisco. In the vast in-between parts of the country, however, our primary map was Roadfood, a down-home food guide compiled by Jane & Michael Stern.
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| Calling it out at the Beacon Drive-In |
The Chiles of New Mexico
Several of our food adventures merit special mention. The biggest eye-opener of the trip: New Mexican cuisine. Neither Jeff nor I had previously understood that New Mexico has its own unique style of cooking, based heavily on New Mexican red and green chilies. Unfortunately, we only had one real meal in New Mexico, at Nopalito's in Las Cruces (310 S. Mesquite St.). I also unfortunately lack the vocabulary to describe what made this so good. Think Tex-Mex for the general contours, but with fresh house-made ingredients, intense and complex flavors, and the gentle heat of the smoked chilies permeating throughout.Texas BBQ
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| The bread was particularly superfluous |
Cajun Cooking
And then there was the Boudin King in Jennings, Louisiana (906 W. Division St.). Tucked down a residential side street in a thoroughly nondescript building with an equally unassuming interior (except for the taxidermy alligator), the Boudin King specializes in Cajun boudin: sausage stuffed with pork and spiced rice with a distinctive, earthy flavor. But their other bayou and southern dishes are equally addictive - like my catfish po'boy, made with fish that actually had flavor, delicately fried to order and served on a fresh French roll with the perfect balance of cool tomatoes, crunchy lettuce, and the smooth tang of mayonnaise. |
| Unassuming cajun magic |
The Mecca of San Francisco
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| "Lunch" at Tartine |
Our Mexican Heritage
Finally, I have to reminisce about a perfect little taqueria in South Tucson, Taqueria Pico de Gallo (2618 S. 6th Ave.). Do taquerias count as a "U.S." cuisine? Seeing as Arizona was once part of Mexico, I'm going to say yes. Besides which, we are a creole land, where immigrants constantly bring in fresh culinary ideas and the final, perfected dish is somehow both American and universal at the same time. (California rolls, burritos, fried chicken, gumbo - I'm looking at you.)But I was talking about the Taqueria Pico de Gallo, named for its fantabulous dessert: big slippery wedges of fresh and smooth mango, papaya, watermelon and pineapple, doused with chili powder, salt and freshly squeezed lime juice. Seriously, I could swear off chocolate for this.
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| Pico de Goodness |
Lol. I want more of the pico de goodness...
ReplyDeleteThing I learned in Las Cruces is that neither red nor green salsa is necessarily spicy, it just depends on the season. Also salsa can be warm. Beat that Taco Bell!