Going on a Cruise: Part I

People often ask me, what is cruising like. Well, that depends.  If you just want to get away from telemarketers, save some money and take the phone off the hook.  No need for a cruise.  But, when the heart of the adventurer pounds in your chest, in time to the thump of distant drums, it’s time to get out of the house, out of your daily world of worry, and speed away to distant lands.

What?  You’ve got questions?  I already know the first one.  Why the hell should you listen to me?  An attitude my wife often shares.  Here’s my curriculum vitae:  Cruises to the eastern and western Mediterranean, the Baltic, Iceland and Norway, and around the British Isles (and Ireland).  Some were large ships (over 3500 passengers) and others were small (around 650 passengers).

For those who are thinking about a cruise, but haven’t yet been, I need to thrill you with a sense of what life aboard a cruise ship  is like.

We just got back from a two-week jaunt that began and ended in the port of Dover, England, with stops in the Shetland Islands (Scotland), Iceland, and Norway.  One of the big reasons I enjoy cruising is that it gets me away from the daily dailies, washing, ironing, pointless internet.  We were on the Princess Cruise line and a minute of onboard internet is pretty much what you would pay for a complete transmission overhaul.  Ok, I exaggerate.  Slightly.  My point is, on a cruise you can be disconnected from the extraneous and reconnected to NOW.

Sure, you can disconnect at home, very easily, if you can ignore the dirty laundry, the dirty dishes, the lawn and garden, and your encyclopedic list of errands.  Go ahead, give it a try.  No luck?  Try cruising.

Exchange your normal duties for a life of leisure.  Allow me to elaborate. 

Ok, you just had a day at sea, then disembarked for your first excursion to ancient castles, towering waterfalls, a tour of an historic city, in short, a traveler’s buffet of excitement.  Tastes, scrambling tones of other languages, magnificent views, and all the things you’ve heard about and read about.  It may have been a full day, or only a few hours.  But, it whetted your imagination and restored your yen for the exuberance of travel like flipping through an issue of National Geographic never could.

Shetland Ponies

The Castle Mey

The White Cliffs of Dover

Cruising through a Norwegian Fiord

The stark beauty of Iceland

At the end of your day on shore, you re-board your ship, puffing your chest out like a world traveler,  and knowing you’re leaving so much behind. You promise yourself you’ll return.  You look at your watch.  My god, lunch was an excellent slosh of wine and a bite of local cheese and bread, or maybe coffee and pastries of the land, and that was hours ago.  But, your hunger churns deeper than that.  You want to share your experiences.  The rainbow over the waterfall, the cobblestone streets, the woman in the coffee shop who told you in stunted English about her brother in Chicago.  But, who to share these daily jewels with?  Fellow travelers, of course.  Remember that couple from Australia you met in the bar last night?  The Japanese couple who shared your dinner table?

Be patient as you settle into your elegant dinner chair and your waiter kindly opens your starched white napkin and lays it gently in your lap.  Meanwhile, the bar steward arrives with a perfectly chilled cocktail and delivers it with a smile.  Next comes the menu of this evening’s selections. While you ponder those, the maître d’ elaborates on tonight’s specialties and offer wine suggestions.

“No sir,” he informs you, “We do not stock Trader Joe’s Two Buck Chuck, but I would be more than happy to doff my shoes, stomp Chilean grapes in my sock feet, and add them to your glass of water.”

“Really,” you reply, “You are too too kind, but one of your rare vintages captures my attention.  I believe I’ll have a bottle of the extravagant vin pour le polissage des chaussures * whose name must be spoken through your nose while gargling a swallow of your jus de bourbon.”

“Very good , sir.”

Chatter erupts from your dinner companions.  Only strangers a day ago, now their excitement spills out before you.  You have shared experiences.  New friends in an instant.

The wine arrives and is de-corked with aplomb.  You play the part, with swishes, a tiny swallow and a knowing nod.  The multiple courses arrive.  You are thrilled.  Your dinner companions admire not only the multitudinous platters of delectables, but the gentle way you carnivorously devour more than a starving lion could on the Serengeti.  All without a word of disparagement from your wife who is busily engaged with nods and clever conversation with the other wives, as well as a dish of lighter than air cheese soufflé.

After dinner, there are more drinks in the plush Club Bar, along with scintillating multi-lingual conversations from a goodly representation of fellow swillers.

You must not linger too long, or you’ll miss the floorshow in the cavernous lounge that rivals Las Vegas auditoriums, both in seating and talent.

After the singing, magic, and comedy, you’ll surely not want to miss dancing in the forward lounge, to live music, encompassing everything from jazz to rock and roll and country.  Ah, the subdued lighting and the girl of your dreams once again in your arms.

You arrive back at your stateroom and notice the place is spotless, with the white sheets turned back and evening chocolates placed delicately on your pillow, along with a four page, full color brochure of all that’s available tomorrow, both excursions and activities.

Just in case you missed the live review of wonders that await at your next docking, you switch on your TV and catch a rebroadcast.

Tell me you get all that at home?  Or in a hotel?  Or anywhere else you go can name?

This is the cruising life, the life of a prince, or princess, the life you always dreamed would

one day be yours.

It’s time to turn out the light.  Tomorrow brings another excursion, photo lessons from the ship’s photographers, line dancing, bingo, a full body massage.  How the hell are you going to get to sleep?

Taqueria del Sol – Mexico in Atlanta? No, BETTER!

Long time no blog.  Been traveling.  Beaches, sunshine, fried shrimp, plump oysters on the half shell.

But (yawn), you don’t want to hear about my vacation.  You’ve already browsed stacks of Facebook photos.  Same silly, squinty grins. Same wind blown hair and and salty tans.

Let’s move past grinning on the beach and get to very serious Mexican style food.   So, you noticed the sly injection of ‘style’ in the last sentence?  No mystery.  Succulent dishes at the Taqueria del Sol in Atlanta, Georgia go far beyond the expected.  Just in the mood for a quick Mexicanish snack?  Fine, go through the drive through at Ring-a-ding Bell.  But, if you’re serious about the unexpectedly wonderful cuisine that exploits the grand horizons of South-of-the-Border kitchens, head to Taqueria del Sol, or ANY restaurant where Eddie Hernandez dons his apron and lights the fires.  No need to wear a suit, or take out a loan.  This stupendous food is very affordable and the service is casual.

More than likely, Eddie doesn’t remember my various trips to his Azteca Grill in Jonesboro (no longer his), but I remember him and I take pains to follow wherever his culinary travels take him.  Can’t get to one of the two Taquerias in Atlanta?  Try the one in Athens or Decatur Georgia, or Nashville Tennessee.

A tiny vignette concerning Eddie and what makes him special.  I have a couple of friends, actually a married couple, who’ve been Eddie Hernandez groupies for years. One night at the Azteca Grill, Eddie dropped by their table, as he often did, and recommended the turnip greens.  Really?  Turnip greens?  Yep.

How did that happen? They asked.  “A friend brought me a bunch of turnip greens.  I didn’t know much about these greens, but the friend brought me a lot of them, so I figured I’d better learn.”  Learn he did.  They’re still hauntingly delicious and on the menu at Taqueria del Sol.

Eddie has the kind of magical mind that turns a common southern staple into something so fragrant and flavorful you find yourself dreaming about it and waking up in the middle of the night.  What did he do that was so different?  Turnip greens need to have the fool cooked out of them.  Eddie did that, and my guess is, he added chicken broth, onion, garlic, cilantro, and enough jalpeños to tease, without startling.  But, even with those ingredients, make no mistake, the star of the show is still the bowl full of  luscious turnip greens.  Even if you try making them at home, they’re not going to taste the same because, as I said, Eddie has magic.

Enchiladas swimming in the best enchilada sauce I've ever tasted

Soft taco featuring smoked pork.

Three salsas for chips and food!

Eddie’s magic transforms everything.  My go-to tests for Mexican food are enchiladas and chili relleños.  Why?  Because you can tell with one taste if this restaurant is worth the money.  Is the enchilada sauce homemade?  Does cheese flow out of the chilis, and have they been dipped in a light enough batter to make them crispy on the edges, without a heavy flavor of cooking oil?

At the Taqueria del Sol, the enchilada red sauce is far and away the most delicious I have ever tasted. Made and flavored right in Eddie’s kitchen.  No shortcuts and every forkful a delight. And, yes, I have been to Mexico City, Arizona, Texas, New Mexico, and California.  The relleños?  The green chili flavor pops through the mild cheese and lightly fried batter.  You have no idea how many times I’ve been disappointed at pseudo-Mexican joints, but like your first girlfriend’s kiss, Taqueria del Sol’s are relleños that make you salivate, then lock away in your box of culinary memories.

The restaurant's fabulous crab cake sandwich.

But, standard fare is not the half of what this restaurant’s out-of-the-box approach offers.  The day we visited, the specials included a crab cake sandwich, a chicken fried steak with roasted jalapeño gravy, and a taco with Latino marinated pork and Chino kimchee!

Even the folks in Maryland would marvel at the crab cake sandwich. 

Everything on the menu is fine and richly flavored cuisine at bargain prices.  Just to give you a hint, the crab cake sandwich was $9.99 and the previously mentioned turnip greens are $2.49.

Margaritas as they should be: Tequila, lime, and only a hint of sugar.

How about drinks?  Margaritas as they should be mixed!  No syrupy goop.  You wanted to sparkle brightly at the first taste of tequila, right? You like the bite of lemons and limes.

But, maybe a Margarita (Daisy in English) is not on your mind.  Maybe you need a shot or two to lighten your burdens and sooth your savage soul.  At Taqueria del Sol, more than fifty tequilas and mezcals stand at attention, waiting to follow your orders.  Need a chilled brew?  Oh, yeah, all your Mexican brewed favorites, plus many more native species and even more bottles from around the globe.

Shrimp and Corn Chowder

Anything else?  Of course.  Don’t you dare leave without at least a cup of the Shrimp Corn Chowder and a dish of the Jalapeño Cole Slaw.

Think this restaurant is a secret?  Here’s a hint.  People are lined up for a city block when it opens for dinner, and even with the restaurant bulging to capacity, there’s still a line.  Taqueria del Sol is THAT kind of special and Eddie is THAT kind of chef.

Read more about Taqueria del Sol here:  menu, hours, locations:  http://www.taqueriadelsol.com/index.html

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Beef Bourguignon: My version

Not being French myself, you may scoff at my taking liberties with one of the Frenchy-est of dishes.  I assure you, I mean no disrespect, especially when cooking with good French wine. My recipe calls for a whole bottle!  And truly, as in so many French wonders of la cuisine, I feel certain that every French chef, from amateur to mother-teur to master-teur painted their own shades of culinary color on Burgy-Beef.  Vive la difference!

To be brief, Beef Bourguignon is really beef stew, but cooked with wine, herbs, and vegetables, over time, the flavors of this stew become magically and delightfully complex.

The one thing to remember about Beef Bourguignon is IT TAKES TIME.  Try to do this recipe in an hour and your guests will stomp out in disgust, leaving your reputation in tatters, your spouse sobbing, and your children fighting over the peanut butter.

The good news is, you can make this dish a day or two before, and the flavor becomes even better.

I know you would feel slighted if I let l’histoire, the story of Burgy-Beef, end after that breezy intro.  Your well-traveled imagination needs to savor a bit of history and intrigue.  I strive to allay your fears and feed your lust for knowledge.  I see you’re quivering in anticipation. You YEARN to know who started this delicious beef stew and so forth. Quiver no more.

It began with cattle, as you might guess from the name, which is not Caterpillar or Muskrat or Hind-end-of-Donkey Bourguinon.  In a short phrase, it began with Charolais cattle, known for their tender, lean meat.  These hoofed wonders come from the Charolles region of southern Burgundy.  I confess I do not know who started this marvel of the French kitchen, but I feel safe in saying it was not a highly paid chef in a restaurant with more stars than the five Chiefs of Staff.   I do know it who made it famous.  Chef Auguste Escoffier with his 1903 cookbook, Le Guide Culinaire.  Now, here’s the intrigue.  Escoffier was later fired from London’s Savoy Hotel for cooking the books.  That really stirred things up.

Julia Child made some changes to Escoffier’s original recipe, the main one being that she chose to cut the beef into cubes rather than cooking it whole.  As for your chef de jour, I follow Julia.

Rather than continuing with things you will not even remember between text messages, here’s the recipe:

Beef Bourguignon Chez Stroud

3 ½ pounds (approx. 1.6 kilos) chuck roast, cut into 2 inch cubes.  Don’t remove too much fat, but do remove any tough connecting tissue

750 ml Burgundy wine, or another heavy red wine

1 large onion, diced

2 stalks of celery, thin sliced

2 medium sized tomatoes, seeds removed, blended into a purée

20 medium sized mushrooms, trimmed, washed, and quartered

4 large carrots, peeled and cut into thick chunks

2 cloves garlic, diced

4 slices streaky bacon, roughly chopped

2 heaping tablespoons of Bovril or another beef concentrate

1 heaping tablespoon herbs de Province (No H de P? Use thyme, parsley, bay leaves or just use your imagination…Hey!  You’re the Chef!)

olive oil, salt, pepper

1 cup water

Roux:  make a paste of two tablespoons of butter mashed into two tablespoons of flour.  This will be used to thicken the stew after it comes out of the oven.

You’ll also need:  a large heavy bottomed pot with a lid (Dutch oven).

Put the cubes of beef in a large bowl and pour in the entire bottle of wine.  Cover and let the beef marinate for a couple of hours.  Why?  Wine tenderizes.

Heat the oven to 250ºF  (130ºC)

Remove the beef from the bowl, but save the marinade.  Splash some olive oil in your large pot and brown the beef in batches.  I did it with three batches.  When the beef is browned, place it in a colander over a bowl (to catch the juices).

When all the meat is browned and removed, splash some more oil in the pot, then toss in the onions, garlic, celery, and bacon.  Cook at medium heat until the onions are wilted and beginning to turn amber.  Mix in the tomato purée, stir and cook only a few moments.

Return the beef to the pot and pour in the wine marinade and the dripping from the beef.  Bring to a boil and stir in the Bovril.  Add the cup of water.  Add salt and pepper to taste.

Put the top on the pot, slide it in the pre-heated oven and cook for about four hours.

At the three hour point, add the carrots and mushrooms.

I like my Burgy-Beef rich and thick, so after removing the stew from the oven, I put it back on the stovetop at low heat.  As it bubbles, I stir in the roux (paste) and cook the stew for a few minutes more, until thickened.

I like to serve this with plain mashed potatoes and as much wine as I can drink.  The French would also accompany the meal with slices of crusty baguette. The French don’t even brush their teeth without a baguette close by.

But wait….there’s just a bit more.   What does Bourgignon mean?  Well in English, we say Burgundy, but in French it ‘s Bourgogne.   And the French word Bourgignon (Boor-gig-yawn) comes out Burgundian in English.  Beef Burgundy style!  Voilá!

A votre santé!

browning the beef

sliced onions, celery, and finely diced garlic

tomato purée

draining the beef, but catching the juices in a bowl below the colander

I never make a beef stew or soup without the magic of Bovril