Nonna’s Kitchenette, The Great Food Truck Race & “Sawwce”

by chubbywerewolf on 16 June 2012

Nonna's Kitchenette

One of the ladies of Nonna's Kitchenette food truck (I believe this is Lisa). Nonna's is one of the finalists in the Food Network's "Great Food Truck Race." And Dear God in Heaven... check out the cameraman filming me while I film her. You just know that my nine chins are going to be showing up on the Food Network. Sigh.

Chubby’s Note: I’m posting this at around 11pm on Saturday night. Its my understanding that the Food Network will be filming again tomorrow, and that the trucks may have already switched locations. If you’re thinking of heading downtown in hopes of catching Nonna’s or Seoul Sausage, it would be wise to keep your eye on Twitter or Facebook for times, locations, etc…

If you read this blog with any regularity, then it should come as no surprise to you that I haven’t written much of, well, anything these past five months or so. I started 2012 off with a bang: three blog posts in as many weeks (which qualifies as a virtual blitzkrieg for this slow-paced writer) but I’ve been pretty much dead in the water since late January. (I started a new job on the first of the year and, as it turns out, building a company from the ground up is time-consuming, back-breaking work. Who knew? It also doesn’t help that I spent most of February and March sidelined by illness.)

So what prompted this dormant dogboy to once again don his blogging sweatpants (yes, they exist) and climb back in the saddle? Nothing less than an event which one hopes could be be a pivotal turning point in the pitifully slow process of bringing food trucks to Portland: a visit from the esteemed Food Network via its food-truck reality contest: The Great Food Truck Race.

Now filming Season 3, the concept behind the Great Food Truck Race is fairly simple. A number of food trucks—converging on the same U.S. cities at the same time—compete with one another to see who can earn the most money over a certain period of time, with the day’s lowest-earning truck being sent home. When everything is said and done, the one food truck left standing goes home with bragging rights and a check for $50,000.

I’m not a big fan of reality television, but I did watch the first season. I enjoyed it for the most part, but I was annoyed when the show’s producers appeared to pull a switcheroo during the finale, changing the contest from one in which the emphasis was on running the overall best operation to something akin to a time trial. (The battle ended in a heavily-edited madcap scramble to the top of New York’s Flatiron Building, which is exactly the type of thing I hate about reality programming.) As a result of the rule-change, NomNom Truck (a Bahn Mi truck out of California)—which out-cooked and out-marketed its competition all season long—wound up coming in second place to L.A.-based burger truck, “Grill ‘Em All.” As a burger aficionado, I’d normally be rooting for the burger guys, but they turned me off early in the season with their phony tough-guy talk and consistently douchey behavior.

Anyway, as I mentioned, the show is currently filming Season 3. The end of season, to be precise. Yep, as it turns out, Portland was not just chosen as one of the routine destinations for the food trucks to visit during the course of the competition, but rather, it is serving as THE battleground where the two finalists will battle things out. Suck it, Boston! (To be fair, the semi-finals were held in Boston a day ago.)

Menu offerings at the Nonna's Kitchenette Food Truck.

Menu offerings at the Nonna's Kitchenette Food Truck.

I’m not sure if the selection of our city as the location for the finale was a serendipitous one, or something carefully choreographed to lend attention to our lack of a food truck scene. In either case, those endeavouring to bring their food trucks within city limits probably owe the Food Network a debt of gratitude for the national exposure.

As for the finalists I mentioned, they are Nonna’s Kitchenette out of Parsippany, NJ and Seoul Sausage, a Los Angeles food truck specializing in Korean BBQ. I had hoped to pay a visit to both trucks, but it was revealed early on that the Seoul Sausage truck was delayed in Boston and wouldn’t be setting up shop until 8 or 9pm.

I’ll write a “review” of the foods I tried from Nonna’s in the space below, but first, here are some random observations about Nonna’s and the Food Network production:

  • The early word was that Nonna’s would be setting up shop on Commercial Street. While that would be a solid location for a lunch-time crowd, I’m not sure that it would have been a great decision for dinnertime, as I think most of the people on that street at that hour probably already have a dinner destination in mind. But as it happens, they wound up on Fore Street, in front of Joseph’s in the space normally reserved for taxi cab pick-ups. I’m not sure if they got special permission to park there, or if they just decided to chance it, but in either case, it didn’t seem to be much of an issue. I spied a Portland Police Department cruiser not far away, and the officer inside didn’t seem bothered by anything going on.
  • Whichever one of the Nonan’s ladies parked the food truck is a freakin’ driving genius. I’m not kidding. That thing is the size of a small bus, but she somehow managed to do a three-point turn in the entrance to the Fore Street Parking Garage and then maneuver it into back into the aforementioned parking spot. Well done!

    Nonnas' Kitchenette Food Truck

    The truck and the turn... for the win!

  • I was shocked to discover that Nonna’s has almost zero presence on Twitter. Or Facebook, that I could find. They have an account (@nonnaskitchenet), but just one tweet to date. I had thought of Twitter as being absolutely vital to the success of food trucks, and frankly, I’m surprised that they’ve fared so well in the Food Network competition without it. That said, both Bite Into Maine and Mainely Burgers were tweeting on behalf Nonna’s behalf, generating a lot of interest. UPDATED: Lisa’s sister Laura tells me that Nonna’s non-presence on Twitter is due to two circumstances: the fact that the Nonna’s food truck started up immediately prior to the start of filming, and that the Food Network rules prohibit the contestants from direct access to social media.
  • Then again, when you’ve got “sassy, sweet, food-loving Italian girls from New Jersey” wearing tight, red halter tops, who needs Twitter?
  • I do think that both Nonna’s and Seoul Sausage missed the bus by not setting up closer to lunch hour, when foot traffic in the Old Port is heaviest. But perhaps the Food Network rules dictated that they could not set up before 5:30pm.
  • I was surprised at how un-produced the whole affair was. While the Nonna’s girls were setting up, I spied a couple of Food Network camera people wandering around and a woman affixing microphones to the truck, but that was about it. It wasn’t until about twenty minutes before the truck opened up shop that I saw someone who I took to be a producer. The Nonna’s staff was entirely responsible for parking the truck, directing traffic, organizing the line, etc. with virtually no involvement from the Food Network people.
  • I’m told that Nonna’s was able to operate their truck downtown due to a special events permit (thanks to PortlandFoodMap for the info). Presumably, the Food Network took care of this on their behalf and did the same for the Seoul Sausage truck. A health inspector arrived to check out the truck before they opened, which I’m assuming was a condition of the permit. If the lady doing the inspection felt pressured by the growing crowd to move things along at a brisk pace, she sure didn’t show it.
  • Other than the delay (which really wasn’t that bad) caused by the health inspector, things seemed to move along at a pretty good clip. Setup was more or less complete in about 20 minutes and once the doors—er, windows—were open, food was coming out at a pretty good pace.
  • There was a little bit of chaos once the truck opened, as the line formed at the center of the food truck and stretched out in both NE and SW directions. But people seemed to be in pretty good spirits and there were no problems while I was there.
  • Some of the guys from Mainely Burgers arrived early and pitched in to help out, which was a pretty cool thing to witness (food trucks helping food trucks). I think the rules of the contest prevented them from doing anything inside the truck, but they were allowed to help out with errands and such.
  • Lisa, one of the Nonna’s ladies—unaware that she was parked within 50 yards of two of Portland’s premier gelato joints—asked the crowd, “Is there anywhere around here where we can get some ice cream?” Three or four people in the growing crowd responded, almost simultaneously, “Gelato!”
  • The Gelato place of choice ended up being The Gelato Fiasco. I’m not sure that Gorgeous Gelato was ever mentioned or considered. But only by virtue of the fact that things moved very, very quickly and they pretty much went with the first place mentioned. Still, I would have loved to have seen Gorgeous Gelato get some attention out of this.
  • There was initially a bit of confusion about the gelato. The Nonna’s ladies assumed that $20 would get them a couple of gallons, which elicited an involuntary chuckle from me. (The going rate for a quart of gelato is around $17-$18, I believe.) Initially, only two PINTS of gelato were delivered. This was followed by a visit from a representative of Gelato Fiasco, and a bit of haggling, before a deal was struck. (To be fair, the guy from Gelato Fiasco—realizing the opportunity for free publicity—offered to donate the gelato, but was told that this was not allowed by the Food Network rules, which dictated that a fair price had to be paid for the foods purchased by Nonna’s. But at any price, this will be great exposure for Gelato Fiasco, and well worth any discount they did provide.)
  • In this land where the word “sauce” is pronounced something like “saas,” the Jersey girls’ pronuncation of “sawwce” caused many in line to giggle.
  • Now that my food truck high has worn off, I’m mortified by the idea of me and my nine chins being seen on national television. I was one of the first in line and the camera guys were right on us the entire time. So there’s that. But even more terrifying is the fact that, when I requested to take a photo of one of the girls posing with my food, my veil of Bruce Wayne-cool was lifted away, making me look and sound the fat kid from Shrek 4 who wants his dad to make Shrek “do the roar.” Needless to say, what was intended to come out as “May I take your photo?” came out as “I WANNA TAKE YOUR PICTURE!” and “DO THE ROAR!” Christ, I hope that’s not on film somewhere.

Now, a few words on the food.

Nonna’s offerings consisted of fried cheese ravioli ($7), a meatball sandwich dubbed “Meatball Madness” ($9), a Pizelle Gelato Sandwich (utilizing vanilla bean gelato from Gelato Fiasco, $6), Italian “Sweet Balls” (fried dough balls with powdered sugar, $5) and an East Cost Ice Cream Float ($5).

Fried ravioli from Nonna's Food Truck

Fried ravioli from Nonna's Food Truck.

I decided to try the fried ravioli and the Meatball Madness. Both were ready within about five minutes, which I passed by chatting up A. of PortlandFoodMap, who was in line a few spots behind me. By the time my number was called, the crowd was really starting to swell, triggering tinges of claustrophobia within me, so I bid adieu and wandered off to enjoy my meal in a less congested area.

I dug into the fried ravioli first. Ordering fried ravioli in a restaurant is a hit or miss proposition these days. So much of the stuff that is served is the result of mass production of bland cheese filling and coatings that have been “diablo’d” to death to cover up the otherwise noticeable lack of flavor. But I found the Nonna’s version to be light and airy, with the cheese filling (ricotta, I believe… and maybe a hint of garlic?) taking center stage over the crispy, outer shell (which was thankfully devoid of crushed red pepper flakes and other nonsense). They came out hot, but the filling was the perfect temperature, and I’m delighted to not be nursing any grease burns on my tongue this evening. Served alongside the raviolis was a cup of homemade marinara sauce, which I guess is obligatory with these things. I thought the sauce was fine, but found that I ate most of the raviolis on their own, which is a testament to the quality.

Moving on to the Meatball Madness sandwich, my first impression was that it looked a bit dry. Most of the meatball subs I’ve had have used either whole or halved meatballs that have been cooked in sauce. Nonna’s version calls for the meatballs to be cooked on their own, then crushed, before being deposited on a roll and topped with homemade marinara and parmesan cheese.

Nonna's Kitchenette's Meatball Madness

Nonna's Kitchenette's Meatball Madness.

Fortunately, the meat within the sandwich—a fair value at $9—didn’t taste dry at all. The meatballs (I want to say they were a combination of beef and pork) were fairly moist and appeared to have been nicely seasoned with the usual Italian spices. Whereas the sweet-but-mild marinara seemed like an almost unnecessary addition to the fried ravioli dish, here it proved to be really essential to making the sandwich a success.

The only real misstep with the sandwich was the roll, which held up well to the task of containing meat, sauce and cheese, but seemed kind of dry. I found myself pouring my leftover marinara from the fried ravioli over the last third of the sandwich, in an effort to liven things up a bit. That said, I can’t hold the bread against Nonna’s, as I believe the Food Network rules require them to source ingredients from stores and supermarkets in the venues where they are competing (versus, say, baking their own bread and transporting it to Maine).

Overall, my Nonna’s experience afforded me some good food (prepared in less than ideal circumstances, no less) and terrific entertainment. I am, of course, eager to see how everything pans out for Nonna’s and Seoul Sausage (which I’m told is at a decided disadvantage as a result of their late arrival), when the program airs in a few months from now, and television producers, editors and network execs have had their say. One of these two food trucks will come away with $50,000. But one hopes that it will be the Portland Food Truck scene that proves to be the real winner.

{ 2 comments }

Cantina at El Rayo (Portland, ME)

by chubbywerewolf on 26 January 2012

The ERC Burger at El Rayo Cantina.

The ERC Cheeseburger at El Rayo Cantina.

Ok, its time for an embarrassing confession. As a child of the 70′s who was raised on a steady diet of “Star Wars” movies, books and toys, I somehow got it in my head that the word “cantina” referred specifically to a place where aliens convened to eat, drink and settle old scores with one another. My confusion has its basis in the famous Mos Eisley Cantina scene, the one with the aliens playing jazz instruments and that John Williams instrumental that—even if you are only one-tenth the dork that I am—you’ve undoubtedly heard 10,000 times in your life.

Most likely, some other kid referred to that scene as “the cantina scene” and I just took it a bit too literally (as in “The Cantina” scene). It never occurred to me that “cantina” was not a proper noun, much less that it was just a term used to generically refer to a place where food and drinks are served to us regular old human beings. And while I doubt that I was naive enough—even at that age—to actually believe that the aliens in “Star Wars” were real, any reference to a “cantina” by my parents, their friends or in popular culture would send my imagination spinning.

I was 34 years old nine years old before anyone clarified things for me. But to this day, there’s a small, impossibly nerdy part of me that clings to the hope that I’ll walk through the doors of anyplace branding itself a “cantina” and encounter that youthful fantasy of alien bounty hunters and shitty jazz.

El Rayo Cantina... or is it Cantina El Rayo?

El Rayo Cantina... or is it Cantina El Rayo?

Alas, there are no Wookies, Aqualish or Rodians at Cantina El Rayo (85 York Street, Portland), the sister restaurant of El Rayo Taqueria, with which it shares a parking lot. But there was a burger—dubbed the ERC Cheeseburger—and I, having heard a few things about it, was determined to check it out for myself.

Chicharróns at El Rayo Cantina.

Chicharróns at El Rayo Cantina.

(Oh, but but as long as we’re on the topic of names, I should mention that I’m not entirely sure what the correct name for Cantina El Rayo is. I’ve seen it referred to in all of the following ways: El Rayo Cantina, the Cantina at El Rayo, Cantina by El Rayo and Cantino El Rayo. Even the restaurant’s own web site (which basically consists of just a “coming soon” message at this point) refers to itself by two different names. So, for the purposes of this review, I’ll just refer to it as “El Rayo.”

My visit to El Rayo took place on rainy weekday evening in January. As it was early in the dinner service, I pretty much had my choice of where I wanted to sit. I briefly considered sitting at the bar, but was dissuaded by the tall “director’s chair” style barstools that use swatches of leather for the seats and backing. Like many fat dudes, I’ve a tendency to look at chairs like these, do the math and realize that its not a great idea.

Instead, I opted for one of the more stable-looking bench-style seats just beyond the bar.

Once seated, I took a look at the menu. I was definitely tempted by dishes like the Tamarind Glazed Pork Chop, a Fish Rellano made with crab and shrimp and the Bistec con Cafe. But I had come here for the burger and was determined to stick to my guns. I did decide to order an appetizer and a cocktail—featuring habernero-black pepper-chipotle infused tequila, lime juice, dry vermouth, olive brine and triple sec—called the Slow Burn ($9). The menu notes that the Slow Burn is “served up and rimmed with spicy Oaxaca mystery powder,” which sounded interesting, to say the least.

I liked the small touches like this tequila bottle, repurposed as a bathroom hand soap dispenser.

I liked the small touches like this tequila bottle, repurposed as a bathroom hand soap dispenser.

While waiting for my drink, I admired the decor. With its hardwood floors, tiled bar and subdued lighting, the Cantina has a more upscale flavor than the restaurant next door. The dining room isn’t huge, but windows and a large mirror mounted on one wall add a lot of depth to the area. There are a lot of fun little touches, like the candles and cactus flowers on the dining tables, and—in the restroom—mason jar sconces and a tequila bottle repurposed as a soap dispenser.

Along with my cocktail, my waiter—a friendly guy named Miles who had a great knowledge of the menu—delivered a complimentary dish of wagon-wheel shaped chicharróns. Though the dish is traditionally made from fried pork rinds, El Rayo’s version uses wheat flour—a healthier alternative to pork fat—along with a light dusting of spices. With a taste that reminded me a bit of a more sophisticated version of the Bugles brand of corn chips, the chicharróns were fun to nibble on in advance of my appetizer and entree.

Taking a look at my Slow Burn, I noticed that only about half of the rim had received the coating of “mystery powder.” Wondering if this was deliberate or unintentional, I took my first sip from the coated side and quickly got my answer in the form of a spicy roundhouse kick to the mouth that made my tongue, lips and lungs feel as though they were being liquified. It was one of the dumber things I’ve done in recent memory, and I’m not really any closer to being able to tell you what’s in the powder (though I suspect equal parts uncut cocaine, dehydrated rattle-snake venom and Gary Busey).

The Slow Burn at El Rayo Cantina.

The Slow Burn at El Rayo Cantina.

It took me a minute or two to recover from my brush with death, but once I did, I found the Slow Burn to be a rather intense-but-pleasurable cocktail. (That said, I’ll admit that I did avoid coming into direct contact with any more of the mystery powder.) I can probably sum up my fascination with this drink by telling you that it is the type of cocktail that made me feel like a Man. So much so that—with the powerful combination of tequila, vermouth and triple sec coursing through my veins and my testosterone surging to Draper’esque levels—I began to entertain fantasies of all the things I’d do with my newfound sense of Manliness. Super macho guy things like performing my own oil changes (maybe someday), getting through a whole episode of “Friday Night Lights” without sobbing, or posting anonymously to the “Missed Connections” section of Craigslist and instructing the blonde at the bar resembling actress Claire Danes to call me. (That’s sexy “Homeland” Claire Danes, not super sexy “Temple Grandin” Claire Danes.)

Somewhere along the way, my appetizer—a Quesadilla ($8)—arrived at the table. It didn’t look at all like what I picture when I hear the word “quesadilla.” That is to say, a big folded tortilla with some cheese and other crap stuffed inside of it. But my exposure to Mexican food has been more-or-less limited to fast food’y Americanized bastardizations, so this is understandable. What sat before me looked a little bit like a greenish-colored pierogi.

The El Rayo Cantina quesadilla with scallions, cilantro and Pineland Farms cheddar.

The El Rayo Cantina quesadilla with scallions, cilantro and Pineland Farms cheddar.

Whatever you want to call it, it was extraordinary. The cornmeal-and-cilantro crust—flash-fried and then garnished with a basic slaw, radish, pico de gallo and sour cream—was thick and flaky without being overly dense. Cutting through the outer shell with my fork, I unleashed a slow-moving river of cheddar cheese (El Rayo uses Pineland cheddar), scallions and cilantro. Fortuitously, the cilantro and sour cream helped to temper the heat of the cocktail, making this dish an ideal accompaniment for the Slow Burn and one which I’ll be sure to order in the future.

Just as I was taking my last bit of the quesadilla, my ERC Cheeseburger ($12) arrived at the table. The burger comes topped with tomato jam, avocado spread, fried jalapeños, lettuce, pickled red onions and a fried crisp of cotija cheese. (Cotija is a hard cow’s milk cheese somewhat similar to parmesan.)

I had ordered my burger medium rare, and Miles had gone to great care to explain to me that because the beef is marinated in a mixture of chipotles and chiles, it might appear darker than your typical medium-rare burger. I loved that he took the time to point this out, but it ended up not being much of an issue, as a dissection of my burger revealed that it was just the right amount of pink inside.

Taking my first bite of the burger, I was almost certain that I was going to find it too spicy for my liking due to the chili peppers. This was not the case at all. The jalapeños were there in abundance, but they had been so finely sliced—practically shaved—as to pose no problem at all. What heat they did give off was abated by the cooling effects of the avocado spread and a generous dollop of tomato jam. And while I probably would not have missed the lettuce had it not been there, I thought the pickled red onions were a great touch. The salty cotija cheese crisp added a nice textural twist to the burger.

The ERC Cheeseburger at El Rayo Cantina.

The ERC Cheeseburger at El Rayo Cantina.

Just as I had worried—needlessly—about the heat of the jalapeños, I had wondered if the chipotle and chile marinade would have the effect of altering the natural taste of the beef. Again, I’m happy to report that it really was not an issue. While the marinade was a nice accent on the burger, it was subdued enough to allow the flavorful beef to shine through. In fact, where the effects of the marinade seemed to have been most noticeable was in the consistency of the beef, which was tender and moist. (The grind of the beef almost certainly played a role in this as well.)

At a glance, the bun seemed a bit on the smallish side, but it was dense and chewy, and was more than adequate in terms of keeping the burger and its toppings together. The burger comes with a side of house-cooked potato chips. Salty and still-warm, they were the perfect companion to this well-prepared burger. Even if I could have it some other way (fries, onion rings, etc…) I’d still opt for these chips on a return visit.

I concluded my meal with a Caffè Americano and a Caramel Walnut Torte ($7) featuring chocolate and sea salt imported from Oaxaca. It was a terrific dessert, one that I would have enjoyed it even more if I hadn’t been so stuffed with beef, cheese and alcohol.

All and all, the Cantina at El Ray delivered on just about every level for me. The price was reasonable, the service exceptional and the food outstanding. I had arrived feeling rather skeptical about the prospect of a cheeseburger served at an establishment specializing in Mexican cuisine, but departed  having enjoyed one of the better burgers in recent memory. I’ll return again soon, and the only question will be whether my Slow Burn is accompanied by another outstanding burger or one of the restaurant’s many other tempting offerings.

{ 7 comments }

Elevation Burger (South Portland, ME)

January 20, 2012
Thumbnail image for Elevation Burger (South Portland, ME)

Remember when a hamburger joint was just a hamburger joint? You know… the days before we, as a society, wrapped our arms around this need to categorize and sub-categorize burger places (and everything else, for that matter) into a thousand little groupings? Seriously, consider today’s burger landscape: There’s the low-end/economy burger joint, represented by a [...]

Read the full article →

Longhorn Steakhouse (South Portland, ME)

January 17, 2012
Thumbnail image for Longhorn Steakhouse (South Portland, ME)

My contempt for the Maine Mall area—with its confluence of zombified crowds, dipshit teenagers and idiotic drivers doing their best to create traffic mayhem in the parking lots and surrounding streets—is such that there are precious few circumstances strong enough to motivate me to drive out there. The exceptions, in order of greatest importance to [...]

Read the full article →

Minami Japanese Grill & Supreme Buffet

January 6, 2012
Thumbnail image for Minami Japanese Grill & Supreme Buffet

Who could have guessed that the solution to Portland’s abysmal Chinese buffet (and takeout) offerings—so well documented here and here—would be a Japanese buffet? Not me. At least not prior to a few nights ago. But that was before I discovered Minami Japanese Grill & Supreme Buffet, one of the best buffet experiences I’ve had [...]

Read the full article →

Bresca Day: An Interview With Owner/Chef Krista Kern Desjarlais

December 7, 2011
Thumbnail image for Bresca Day: An Interview With Owner/Chef Krista Kern Desjarlais

I’ve gone on record a number of times as having said that the single best food experience I’ve had in my five years in Maine was a dinner I ate at at Bresca a few years ago. The memory of that meal—honeycomb and pecorino, shaved brussels sprouts (with toasted walnuts, Parmesan, Pecorino and olive oil) and [...]

Read the full article →

(Spicy) Roasted Pumpkin Seeds

October 30, 2011
Thumbnail image for (Spicy) Roasted Pumpkin Seeds

When I was growing up, it was often difficult for my family to find the time to sit down together for evening meals. This is something that used to bother me tremendously, due largely to the fact that—primed on a steady diet of family-centric 70′s and 80′s sitcoms where everybody ate together all the time—I [...]

Read the full article →

The Mystery Burger… REVEALED!

October 23, 2011
Thumbnail image for The Mystery Burger… REVEALED!

Back in August, I launched my “Mystery Burger” contest, in which I asked readers to determine the identity of a local restaurant where the burger (see image, above) originated. The rules were simple: send in one guess via email, follow me on Twitter and then promote the contest on twitter using the URL provided and [...]

Read the full article →

A Defense of Portland, Street and Company and Tuna Bolognese, Part 1 (of 2): “Mr. Bourdain, Please Kiss Me Before You F*ck Me”

October 20, 2011
Street & Company

Note: This blog entry, part one of two, is nearly 20 months in the making. For reasons explained below, I’ve written it, trashed it and re-written it at least a half-dozen times over the course of the last several months. With Anthony Bourdain—the subject of Part 1 of this commentary—visiting Portland in a couple of [...]

Read the full article →

The Badger Burger

September 25, 2011
Thumbnail image for The Badger Burger

The good folks at Wisconsin Cheese Talk recently asked me if I might be interested in guest-authoring a burger recipe for their blog. The result? The Badger Burger, a combination of beef, paprika-rubbed smoked cheddar, bacon, chipotle mayo and other ingredients. You can find the complete recipe here.

Read the full article →

← Previous Entries