Category: Food & Drink

A journey of a thousand miles starts not with a single step, as might be supposed, or even with a single suitcase. It starts with the first Egg McMuffin.

Of course, this is my own journey. Yours may start with two tabs of Vivarin and a cinnamon roll, or a latte and a banana, with the peel flung ceremoniously out the window at the first on-ramp. We all have our own rituals for eating on the road.

Travelers cannot eat the way they do at home. Can we agree this is impossible? The fridge has been replaced by a malfunctioning cooler, the dining-room table makes way for the dashboard, and the trusty microwave has been replaced by less savory-looking mini-mart models that have seen the insides of too many overheated cheez dogs.

Some travelers bemoan these changes; they become known as city folks, candy-ass tourists, or Californians (or whatever scapegoat state is next to yours). The savvy traveler adapts, thrives, and then comes to find a whole new sense of security in the away-from-home appetites that emerge.

Now, there may be travelers who lapse into uncontrollable veggie-eating and develop a fixation on dry, whole-grain toast. I don’t see a lot of them in my journeys. Mostly I see other people like myself: We become pigs or kids or some happy combination of the two. Cleaning out the car at the end of a trip is like emerging from a dream, and the longer the trip, the weirder the dream: Did I really eat two packages of beef jerky, potato chips, 10 Mandarin oranges, a whole package of cough drops, a Mounds bar, a McMuffin, and three hash browns?

The funny thing is, much of what I eat when I travel, I eat only when I travel. I have no patience for jerky the rest of the time, but on the road it’s a soothing thing, salty chewing gum that lasts for miles. Ditto for the McBreakfast and all those oranges consumed in one 24-hour period.

It’s garbage, this on-the-road eating. But I don’t really want to change it, though I go through the motions of meal-planning at the beginning of almost every trip. I start out with little bottles of orange juice and maybe granola bars, a gallon or two of water, my own thermos of coffee. But like a much-loved CD or the extra double-D batteries, these healthy ambitions get lost quickly in the inevitable entropy of travel. Granola bars crumble only to reemerge two months later as empty wrappers from car-seat crevices (perhaps the seats have their own appetites, which include more fiber). Orange juice undergoes a miraculous transformation into weak, fast-food coffee (more caffeine, and the cups fit better in the rickety little cupholders). And any vows to eat salad for lunch and a well-rounded dinner come to naught somewhere between rest stop 15A and the “Next Services 52 miles” sign, when ranch-flavored Corn Nuts, a chocolate bar, and a breath mint suddenly seem like reasonable items on the lunch menu mainly because they’re the only things available in the roadside vending machine.

Not that I don’t have some standards when it comes to what I eat on the road. It can’t drip, thus eliminating many otherwise excellent foods such as mangoes, popsicles, and ramen noodle soups. It has to fit in the cupholder or the little change reservoir and be something that I can pick up without looking at. And preferably it leaves residue that I can lick off my fingers.

But basically I want something that has no relationship to my normal diet. I want to mark each trip as outside of my day-to-day life. I want to slip from conscientious to unconscionable as easily as we cross from one county to the next, and I’ll wake up tomorrow with the unspoiled appetite of a child.

Pass the Corn Nuts, please. The journey begins now.

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If you’re truly feeling guilty about your road-trip regimen, some intellectual rationalization may help. Call it research, take along one of these food books, and make your trip meaningful, if not dietetically sound.

Food Finds: America’s Best Local Foods and the People Who Produce Them, by Allison Engel and Margaret Engel (Quill, 2000). A quirky and comprehensive road map to all the stuff that you’re going to miss if you’re not from here. The authors cover all the bases, including ordering info for armchair travelers and visiting hours for those who like to meet the makers.

Eat Your Way Across the U.S.A., by Jane and Michael Stern (Broadway Books, 1997). Truthfully, either this or the newer edition of Road Food will keep you well fed. These enthusiastic yet discerning travel eaters can stop on a dime for a roadside joint with something tasty to discover.

Travelers’ Tales Food, edited by Richard Sterling (Travelers’ Tales, 1996). Sometimes it’s not so much where you eat but how. This anthology addresses the latter question with essays on eating from all over the world. A great way to get in the mood for exploration.

Manifold Destiny: The One, the Only, Guide to Cooking on Your Car Engine! by Chris Maynard, Bill Scheller, William Scheller, Christopher Maynard (Villard Books, 1998). Combine dining with driving in an impeccably fuel-efficient way. This isn’t just a theory: These guys provide mileage charts for every recipe. Just tuck that tetrazzini under the hood and drive 45 miles (freeway) until it’s done. You’ll be the envy of everyone at the rest stop! — MW

Close your eyes. Can you hear Bob Marley singing in the background? Do you feel the warm breeze blowing through your hair, the humidity on your neck? Are we on a tropical island? No, it’s just another rainy Saturday night in Memphis, and we’re at the Blue Moon Restaurant and Tropical Bar. It may not be the Caribbean, but you wouldn’t know by the cuisine.

The Blue Moon feels intimate, with a smallish main dining room and bar area and a unique dining porch jutting onto the brick-lined interior street of the Chickasaw Oaks Plaza shopping center. The walls are vibrant coral and tropical green. Royal blue sconces with half-moons provide a delicate aura. Although the décor is tasteful with a wonderful palette of colors, it could be enhanced with tropical plants, murals, or photos to create a more native atmosphere.

Our evening began with the following appetizers: roasted garlic and St. André cheese with Granny Smith apples and toasted croutons; black mussels in a Jamaican “run-down;” crab cakes; and wild mushrooms and spinach. The mussels were plentiful, swimming in a French Creole sauce of coconut milk and thyme, flavored with a habañero chili. The heat of the chile was tempered by the coconut milk and did not overpower the delicate flavor of the mussels.

The chunks of crab in the crab cakes were a surprise. I haven’t been able to identify the lumps of crab in a crab cake since I left the East Coast. Many locally prepared crab cakes are overly seasoned and mixed with breadcrumbs until the crab is broken up and unidentifiable. The crab cakes at the Blue Moon are the real deal: lightly seasoned, lightly breaded, and not overwhelmingly bathed in mayonnaise. A mango jalapeño aioli (garlic mayonnaise) drizzled over baby greens cradled the crab cakes. The mango’s sweetness and the blisteringly hot jalapeño enhanced the garlic mayonnaise, embracing the crab as well the taste buds.

Our favorite appetizer was the amazingly simple yet flavorful roasted elephant garlic bulb and St. André cheese. Served on a platter, the garlic and cheese sat center stage with thinly sliced Granny Smith apples, red grapes, and toasted croutons. The toasted baguette croutons were the perfect base for the scoops of smooth roasted garlic, apple, and cheese. The bitterness of the cheese balanced the tanginess of the apple.

Four very eclectic and distinct salads are offered at the Blue Moon. Unable to decide, we ordered one of each: the house salad with mesclun greens and tomatoes, the Mediterranean salad, the rémoulade salad, and the signature Blue Moon salad. The house salad is a Provencal mixture known as mesclun, young salad greens from beds of seeds sown together. The greens include wild chicory, mâche (lamb’s lettuce), curly escarole, dandelion, rocket (arugula), and other tender lettuces. A raspberry vinaigrette drizzled atop the greens enhanced the flavors. The Mediterranean salad mixed the same mesclun greens with roasted tomatoes and kalamata olives. The epiphany of this salad? The warm pecan-crusted goat cheese. The aroma was tantalizing, and when the pecan and cheese ball was pierced with a fork, a prize of warm goat cheese created a union between all of the ingredients. The rémoulade salad of mesclun greens served with avocados and large shrimp was completed by a classic French rémoulade sauce, which consists of mayonnaise seasoned with mustard, anchovy essence, finely chopped gherkins, capers, parsley, chevril, and tarragon. The Blue Moon signature salad is a bed of mesclun greens tossed lightly with raspberry vinaigrette, topped with walnuts, Gorgonzola (Italian blue cheese), sun-dried cherries, and Granny Smith apples.

The portions at the Blue Moon are ample yet not overwhelming. We found ourselves overindulging, helpless to resist. The entrées proved to be individual masterpieces. The Gulf Coast bouillabaisse, originally a hearty fisherman’s stew, is prepared with large shrimp, white fish, and mussels and is flavored with saffron and a rouille. (A rouille is a spicy red-pepper and garlic mayonnaise from Provence served with fish soups.) The flavors were pure pleasure, though the shellfish overwhelmed the stew. The grilled Black Angus filet, generous and grilled to order, melted in your mouth. The beef is enhanced with a yellow onion demiglace, Gorgonzola, and a red and green chili aioli. Mashed potatoes and fresh asparagus completed the filet presentation. The grilled pork tenderloin was served in a reduction seasoned with Asian spices and gently nestled in a bed of basmati rice infused with coconut. The aromatic and nutty flavor of the rice embraced the subtlety of the coconut. The final entrée was the duck breast in a shiitake mushroom demiglace. The duck was served appropriately medium rare. The duck was charismatic, earthy and wild, and served upon grilled polenta, a baked or fried Italian cornmeal pudding.

After the entrées and so full as to be on the verge of exploding, we decided to risk human splatter and ordered four of Blue Moon’s homemade desserts. The cappuccino cheesecake had a touch of espresso and an almond ladyfinger cookie crust. The cheesecake filling was light and unlike the dense New York-style cheesecake. The white-chocolate and raspberry crème brûlée was served with bits of raspberries. The “chocolate oblivion” is a rich flourless cake. The result is a creamy decadent dessert adorned with drizzled raspberry purée and fresh whipped cream. However, the winner of the desserts, hands down, was the bread pudding du jour. The pudding marries warm chunks of apples and hints of cinnamon, and vanilla ice cream capped and melted into the bread pudding.

The Blue Moon Restaurant and Tropical Bar is located in the Chickasaw Oaks Plaza at 3092 Poplar Avenue. It’s open for lunch and dinner, and reservations are requested. Price range: $10 to $25 per person. A private dining room and full bar are available.

Forget jet-setting to Puerto Vallarta. Taqueria La Guadalupana provides the true flavors of Mexico right here in a strip mall. This is not Tex-Mex.

Located at 4818 Summer, Guadalupana is family-owned and has been open for two years. The interior is mint green with a tile floor and metal chairs and tables. Little painted houses hang from the walls. But what’s most striking is how this restaurant buzzes — with the chatter of 100 or so patrons, with the mariachi music, with the hustle and bustle of the staff.

The meal starts with a basket of fresh, warm tortilla chips and a green tomatilla salsa and a traditional red, tomato-based salsa. The tomatillo salsa was warm and spicy with jalapeño peppers and lime juice. The red salsa, the favorite of the table, had large chunks of onion, pepper, and tomato and was finished with cilantro. To accompany our salsas we ordered the guacamole, which has a bit of citrus to keep the dip from discoloring. In addition, the guacamole had hints of fresh garlic, coriander, and onion married with diced pieces of red tomato.

There are no alcoholic beverages at Guadalupana, though they do serve a variety of interesting beverages for those wishing to embrace the total Mexican meal experience. The orchata is a very sweet rice drink that looks like skim milk poured over ice cubes. It was refreshing and left a hint of nutmeg in your mouth. The fruity and fizzy non-alcoholic sangria lacked the mixture of fruits one comes to expect from an authentic sangria — oranges, lemons, and limes. This sangria tasted like a sparkling grape juice.

For dinner, we sampled the Combinacion de Fajitas (chicken, steak, and shrimp fajitas). The meats were sautéed together and piled high on a platter. Although appealing in presentation and quantity, the entire dish had the overwhelming flavor of shrimp. Disappointing. Remember this tip: “If you are cooking with seafood, always add it at the last minute.”

For the vegetarian, Guadalupana’s menu offers many selections. These include the Quesadilla Con Queso, Arroz, Frijoles y Crema, a flour tortilla folded with cheese, rice, beans, and sour cream, and the Sope Vegetariano, a thick fried tortilla with beans, rice, onions, sour cream, cheese, tomatoes, lettuce, cilantro, and avocado.

The vegetarian at our table chose the Enchiladas de Queso en Salsa Roja, Arroz, Frijoles, Crema y Ensalada, three cheese enchiladas in a red sauce surrounded by rice, beans, sour cream, and a salad. It’s a colorful dish that will make your mouth water the moment you lay eyes on it: fresh corn casings stuffed with a cheese mixture and covered with a juajillo chili sauce. The juajillo chili is the dried version of the mirasol pepper — mirasol being Spanish for “looking at the sun” — which gave the enchiladas an earthy and slightly bitter flavor. A subtle yet flavorful rice, infused with crushed tomato, surrounded the enchiladas.

I ordered an a la cart dish that included Sope de Asada, a Chile Relleno, and a chicken tamale. The Sope de Asada is a sopapilla hollowed to create a pocket for chopped steak. The overflowing cubes of tender steak, with shredded lettuce and sour cream, crowned the excavated fried bread, with the removed slice of sopapilla acting as a canopy. The chicken tamale proved to be small, dry, coarse, and flavorless. The Chile Relleno was a large pablano pepper that cradled a bed of Monterey jack cheese. The stuffed pepper was lightly breaded and fried. The Chile Relleno burst with the tanginess of the pepper and was pleasantly tempered by the cheese. The Chile Relleno disappeared quick.

My partner ordered our table’s favorite selection. Undeniably, the Bistek a la Mexicana, Arroz, Frizoles, Tortilla de Maiz y Ensalada is one of the specialties of Guadalupana. The thin slices of steak are seared to perfection and then covered with onions, red and green peppers, and a tomato-based sauce. The freshness and simplicity of the ingredients enhanced the color and taste of the dish. The aroma of the dish met the table before the waitress set the plate down. This was truly the climax of our dining experience and the entrée every one of us would go back for. A nearby table ordered the steak as well but piled high on a roll as a Torta de Asada, a Mexican steak sandwich. Another dish to remember on a return visit.

The refried beans were unsatisfactory as a side dish. Runny, flavorless, and lacking the spattering of onions one expects. Are the beans even fresh, or are they powdered?

The portions served at Guadalupana are generous, and we left gorged and satisfied. Real full on a meal that was the real deal.

Taqueria La Guadalupana is open Sunday through Thursday from 10 a.m. to 10 p.m. and Friday and Saturday from 8 a.m. to midnight. The prices range from $1.25 to $11.

What makes pizza taste so good? Is it the crust, the sauce, the
toppings? It’s all of these things — and sometimes it’s none of
them. But pizza just tastes better in a place with a good vibe or funky
atmosphere.

Don’t take my word for it — go see for yourself.

A Slice of … Egypt

New York Pizza & Sub is located to the right of the Lowe’s
parking lot on Perkins near Summer in a small, nondescript building
with a few picnic tables out front. Inside, the tiny dining area is
sparsely furnished with patio furniture, a large TV, and a stereo.

Salah, the owner and sole employee of New York Pizza & Sub, can
be found in the kitchen. His lively personality more than makes up for
the lack of décor. A native of Egypt, Salah has been making
pizzas for 18 years, the first seven of which were in New York.

Walking into New York Pizza & Sub can be a bit disorienting. It
feels more like a friend’s house — a friend who really likes to
talk and makes great pizza.

And what about the pizza? Expect the standard New York style: thin
and chewy with a nice crusty handle, light tomato sauce, gooey cheese,
and sold by the slice.

New York Pizza & Sub, 4523 Summer (761-7771)

Nautical

The Cove is the perfect place to enjoy an old-fashioned cocktail,
suck down a few oysters, watch a movie you’ve never heard of, and smoke
’em if you got ’em. The nautical interior that once filled Anderton’s
definitely sets the Cove apart from other late-night bars. It’s cozy,
cool, and full of surprises.

In addition to oysters and other light fare, the Cove has a small
selection of pizzas on the menu. The most notable is Jim’s Ultimate
Oyster Pizza. Yes, oyster pizza. The crisp crust is
topped with a spinach Rockefeller sauce, marinated artichokes, goat
cheese, bacon, and half a dozen freshly shucked oysters. Like the bar
itself, this pizza offers a new twist on an old favorite. Best of all,
you can enjoy your pizza with a shot of absinthe or a can of Pabst Blue
Ribbon.

The Cove, 2559 Broad (730-0719)

Elvis-style

Broadway Pizza has two dining rooms, a jukebox, a few big TVs, a Ms.
Pac-Man, a racing-car game, a stuffed-animal-grabber game, a ’70s-style
candy vending machine, and a couple hundred pictures of Elvis. Minus
the flat-screen TVs, it feels like 1977 inside. (I consider this a
plus.)

The menu offers many pizzas with unique toppings for people
interested in taking a walk on the wild side (e.g., the chili and taco
pizzas) as well as the standard fare for those who like to keep things
simple. Whether you go crazy or play it safe, you can rest assured that
each pizza is going to taste pretty damn good, arrive cut in squares,
and be accompanied by a bowl of pepperoncinis and green olives.

Broadway Pizza, 2581 Broad (454-7930)

R.I.P. (Rest in Pizza)

Top Five Pizza Places that Will Be Forever Missed

5) Chicago Pizza Factory — Remember when the Chicago Pizza
Factory was a bustling restaurant and not a sad, empty building?

4) Shakey’s — The perfect place to celebrate after a soccer
game. I can still hear the sound of my cleats on the floor as I run to
the front to grab a pizza.

3) Pierotti’s — The standard meeting place for my philosophy
class study group. I always scored the last piece of the group’s
communal pie. My friend swears there were Gummi Bears on the
buffet.

2) Squash Blossom — I could never convince my mom that pizza
was actually healthy, but the Squash Blossom kitchen crew changed all
that.

1) Pat’s — Getting buzzed in, wondering if Mrs. Pat was asleep
or dead, giant hunks of meat toppings, roaches, a pool table, beer,
open all night … how did this place ever go out of business?