Alisa: I really like that it has celery in it. Me: ::mildly befuddled look:: Alisa: I mean, it’s basically a Bloody Mary with meat. Me: ::mildly appetized, mildly horrified look::

So, dear readers, I turn to you with the following query: Bloody Mary with meat. Yea or Nay?

Bonus question: if yea, what meat?

Tiffin opened up a location along Emlen where the Hamlet Bistro used to be. A few nights ago we ordered up some standards: chicken tikka masala (CTM), alu gobi, and naan. Verdict?

I now have two places to get great CTM. Tiffin makes fantastic food, and it’s very reasonably priced. Tiffin’s CTM is less creamy, emphasizing the tomato in the sauce. It’s so delicious, I used the naan to clean my bowl. Now I can eat CTM two days in a row and it will still be like eating two different meals. Perhaps, one day, I will achieve my dream: a different variety of CTM for each day of the week.

*Kidding… I judge births and food on separate lists.

The best way to spend a warm spring holiday: barbecuing meat and veggies with friends on their back porch. Thanks to Mike and Jenny for hosting us this year.

Our desire to own a grill has both increased and diminished. We want to have BBQs on our own porch, but after such a great time it’s hard to do anything that would give a reason to not repeat it.

That’s right. Bacon. Chocolate. A merging of two holy substances brought to earth by god-kings of culinary alchemical magnificence.

Well, kind of.

A week or so ago, my sister-in-law, Rebecca, brought Alisa and me a slim box of what could only be described as conceptual genius. “Applewood smoked bacon, Alder wood smoked salt, deep milk chocolate, 41% cacao” is what the packaging promised. A crispy strip of delicious bacon laying beside a square of alluring chocolate is what it enticed us with. This was a moment ripe with promise.

As we slid the contents out of the box, contained in its sheath of chrome, I admit I was a bit disappointed. I had anticipated thick cuts of crispy bacon dipped in chocolate, presenting us a mad symphony of breakfast and dessert (dekfast? breakert?). However, I would not be kept from this amalgam, described in the most holy, and yet unholy, gastronimicons.

Snapping the bar into more polite proportions, we all eagerly bit into our first fragments of the Chocolate Bacon Promised Land.

The milk chocolate was pretty standard stuff, but the sensation of sweet softening chocolate was punctuated with spots of salty bacon pieces. The chocolate was the primary flavor, with the bacon acting as an accent.

The group was split on the experience. Alisa was weirded out, but Rebecca and I enjoyed it. However, I think there are two ways in which it fell short of being the genius creation we all hoped it would be. There are two ways in which the Vosges Haut Chocolat’s Mo’s Bacon Bar could be made perfect:

1) More bacon.

2) Dark chocolate.

The miscalculation of ingredient proportions is understandable, particularly by a chocolate maker. They forgot the one fundamental rule when making a salty sweet chocolate confectione: coat with the chocolate and always use more salty than sweet. Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups are good example of this, as well as chocolate-covered pretzels. However, I wonder if bacon being meat had anything to do with this configuration.

As for the chocolate, I am a dark chocolate lover. There’s something so much more satisfying about its taste (at least for me). I think the contrast would’ve been better, particularly given the complex flavor of a good cut of bacon.

So, a dream has been realized and found wanting (though still delicious). But this also creates an opportunity for improvement, and new bacon vistas to gaze out upon. I stand ready and willing to do my part.

::pats stomach full of bacon from brunch::

As I learn more and more about the corporation named Monsanto (which began as a chemical company, not an agricultural company, by the way), I become more disgusted and confused by the people behind the name. What do these people think is the inevitable result of something like this? What do they tell themselves to make the destruction of lives (both professionally and literally) seem acceptable? The worst part is that I’m sure sitting down with them would only yield groomed PR doublespeak. But I would love to have a frank conversation with one of them.

Seriously? Seriously.

The thought of this vile, effervescent goo in a child’s stomach is enough to turn my own.

In case you didn’t know, the best potato chips of all time are Kettle Spicy Thai Chips.

Eating one of these chips is like getting socked in the mouth by a delicious Thai dish. Kapow! The chips tend to get spicier at the bottom of the bag, as the oils carry all of the fiery goodness, so the first few handfuls can be deceptive. They will draw you in with their feisty flavor then teach you about the wonderful burn of Thai food.

I’m going to eat some at lunch today. Can you tell? They’re quite hard to find, particularly in Philly, but worth the effort.

If you aren’t laughing scornfully at Monsanto, you should read up. Monsanto’s responsible for some good and some bad things in this world, but that’s less the point than that this move is so ridiculously hypocritical. Monsanto is a very large, very powerful corporation which has, as corporations must, defended itself and pursued its interests very aggressively via lobbying and marketing. It is laughable when they whine about an ad that says:

“We work exclusively with farmers that supply 100 percent of our milk from cows that haven’t been treated with artificial hormones. So, who do you trust when it comes to your family’s milk?”

I hope that rBST (recombinant bovine somatotropin) is eliminated from all milk everywhere. It makes it into the milk and it makes it into your body. End of story.

Hey, maybe Monsanto can get back to focusing on selling farmers seeds that yield sterile plants, so they have to keep re-buying all of their seed each year. That’d be nice for Monsanto.

1) The Buzz Aldren at The Continental One word, people: Tang. This drink has it not only in the mix (along with peach schnapps and vodka), but also rimming the martini glass it’s served in. Like many cocktails at The Continental, you get your full glass along with a petite shaker containing at least a refill’s worth. Cold, tangy, orangy and quite delicious.

2) The Firecracker at Jones True to its name, the firecracker is a snappy variation on a dirty martini, featuring, in addition to vodka, olive brine, and olives, some pickled jalapeño brine and slices. If you like a little spice, this is your drink. A lot of bang for the buck.

3) The Sicilian Lemondrop at Tangerine I love lemons, and this drink combines different lemony lemon-ness in a refreshing and crisp drink that we’ve started to drink at home. It’s a mix of limoncello (an Italian lemon liquer) and San Pellegrino Limonata (an Italian sparkling lemon soda) on ice in a pint glass with the extra Limonata in the bottle. I will be seeing a number of these this summer, no doubt.

4) Tequila Flight with Sangrita at El Vez You get to choose, from a pretty full menu, one of each type of tequila: blanca, reposado, and añejo for $22. That’s a price that beats some of the per-glass prices on the añejos alone. Then, then, for four bucks more, you get a wonderful, kicky, tangy little drink called a sangrita you get your three glasses of tequila. Sangrita combines the juices of tomatoes, clams, limes, oranges, and some chiles (El Vez’s version). It’s very good and interacts wonderfully with the tequila. This setup is great for two people, which makes it a pretty good deal and a good time.

All four of these places also have great food, particularly Tangerine, which is the most expensive of the bunch, but is extraordinary and the home of my Best Meal Ever. Also, I swear that I am not in the employ of Stephen Starr, who is the restauranteur behind all four. He just happens to do great work that we appreciate.

I just realized I haven’t mentioned this yet on Current Config: St. Bernardus Abt 12 is the best beer ever. From the moment I tried it on tap at the best Belgian beer emporium I know of in Philly, Monk’s Café, I was hooked. Just reading the description on the St Bernardus website makes my mouth water:

The absolute top quality in the hierarchy of the St. Bernardus beers. It is also the beer with the highest alcohol content (10.50%). A dark ivory coloured beer with a high fermentation. The show piece of the brewery. Thanks to its soft and unconditionally genuine aroma, the beer can be smoothly tasted. The Abt has a very fruity flavour.

The funny part about their description is that I wouldn’t quite characterize it as having a fruity flavor. For me it has a chocolaty, slightly nutty, flavor with a subtle banana flavor. Normally, the word banana would have me running for the hills, but in this beer it works brilliantly. Go figure.

I’ve had one other beer from St Bernardus, the Prior 8. This beer tasted very similar to the Abt 12 to me. A bit lighter and distinct, but very similar. It’s less alcoholic, as well. I bought one of the larger bottles at Whole Foods for a party at a friend’s place in Brooklyn (bless NY liquor laws). It was my classy 40 oz. It held me for pretty much the whole party.

Do yourself a favor and give it a try. It’s so delicious. It may not be for everyone, but those people are crazy. Don’t listen to them. Man, I wish I had some right now.

By the way, if anyone can locate a tshirt with this guy on it, I will be in your debt. I wrote St Bernardus but got no response.