Feast: The Bubble Room (and Key Lime Pie)
The Bubble Room is the kind of place that has over 50 pictures of Frank Sinatra. The kind of place where the servers dress up like boy scouts, the tables bulge with glass covered memorabilia, and a toy train runs the circuit of the room to the soundtrack from “Singing In The Rain.” At the Bubble Room, the wait staff smiles rather than glowers when you ask them to take your picture, the dishes are named “Pita Fonda” or “Cluck Gable,” and the season is perpetually Christmas, twinkling through the steady stream of bubble lights strung throughout the building.
You don’t really go to The Bubble Room expecting a great dinner, though the Bubble Bread (garlic bread topped with cheese spread and baked until, well, bubbling) and Flaming Socre cheese appetizers are worth the trip. You go to The Bubble Room expecting kitsch. Lots and lots of kitsch.
You also don’t go to The Bubble Room expecting to be impressed by their desserts, but it is the weighty tray of homemade cakes that keeps everyone coming back. My family’s perennial favorites are the Red Velvet and the Orange Crunch Cake (white cake, orange icing, brown sugar/almond/etc. filling); we’re so focused on those two that we don’t always allow our Bubble Scout to spend his or her usual 10 minutes describing the White Christmas Cake, New York Cheesecake, Three Layer Chocolate Cake, or Jamaican-Me-Crazy Rum Cake.
This year my family was kind enough to help me with my Key Lime Pie Contest. For the very first time in all of our many years at The Bubble Room, we branched out.
Unfortunately, we determined that you also don’t go to The Bubble Room for Key Lime Pie.
The filling flavor was good, not great. Too bitter for my taste, though BoSB, who prefers it that way, thought it was perfect. The texture was good, creamy and custardy. The crust was a little confusing. Graham cracker base, but with what seemed like too much brown sugar mixed in, causing a weird crystalized crunch. The extras – fruit and whipped cream – were a nice complement, but nothing too exciting.
Don’t go to The Bubble Room for Key Lime Pie. Don’t go expecting a gourmet meal. Don’t go if small spaces filled with old things that can’t really be called antiques freak you out.
But do go to The Bubble Room, because for all its kitsch, it’s fun. Check out the “Booz-O-Meter” in the bar area, and get your picture taken in The Tunnel of Love. Browse the photos of black and white movie stars while you wait for your table, become a little transfixed by the gurgling bubble lights. And don’t leave without a piece of Red Velvet or Orange Crunch Cake.
Contest results so far:
| Sunset Grill | Doc Ford’s | Bubble Rm | |
| Taste | 3 | 5 | 3 |
| Texture | 4 | 5 | 4 |
| Crust | 4 | 4 | 3 |
| Extras | 4 | 3 | 3 |
| Total | 15 | 17 | 13 |
red velvet cake, to go
Frame: KLP Recipe via Postcard
Frame: Key Lime Pie (Continued)
Doc Ford’s Rum Bar & Grille advertises its key lime pie as “the best.”
At first glance, it’s got nothing on The Sunset Grill’s photogenic slice.
However, this is what I personally consider authentic key lime pie. The texture was a firm custard and the taste was a mix of sweet and sour without any bitterness. The crust was graham cracker, a relatively neutral flavor and crunchy texture that complemented the smooth filling. Despite its homely appearance, Doc Ford’s pie was excellent.
With one caveat: though I’m not advocating over-embellishment when it comes to the accompaniments category, a bit of whipped cream would have tempered the sweetness and provided another texture differential. As it was, the only extra on this plate was a drizzling of strawberry sauce on the plate, which was good but would have been better enjoyed served over the pie, rather than under.
The results so far:
| Sunset Grill | Doc Ford’s | |
| Taste | 3 | 5 |
| Texture | 4 | 5 |
| Crust | 4 | 4 |
| Extras | 4 | 3 |
| Total | 15 | 17 |
Frame: Public Service Contest – Key Lime Pie
What is “Key Lime” pie? What makes an authentic key lime pie? Do “key” limes actually exist? As I’m currently vacationing in the key lime pie capital of the country- Florida – it seems a good opportunity to let go of more academic pursuits and explore these (not so) pertinent questions. And, since many of the two of you that read this blog are still in climates that refuse to recognize the arrival of spring, I feel it is really my public service duty to try to enjoy the sun, go to the beach, and taste as many variations of this pie as possible, reporting back on my findings. It’s a tough job, but someone has to do it.
To start, a quick history on “an American dessert made of key lime juice, egg yolks, and sweetened condensed milk in a pie crust“:
While no one seems to know for sure, historians believe the pie is a creation of Key West fishermen in the mid to late 1800s, and that the condensed milk was born of necessity – there was no fresh milk or refrigeration in Key West until the 1930s. As for key limes themselves, they arrived in Key West via the Spanish in the 1500s, who brought them over from Malaysia. However, a hurricane wiped out the key lime trees in 1926, and they were replaced by easier to pick Persian limes. There is still a spattering of key lime trees in Florida, but the fruit doesn’t usually leave the area.
So the truth is that “key” limes are just a cruel marketing ploy. Be wary of anyone advertising key limes or time shares.
There is a fair amount of argument on what constitutes authentic key lime pie (though apparently nobody cares that key limes aren’t actually used these days). Whipped cream or meringue topping, graham cracker crust or pastry, frozen or custard filling – these are all options. But all experts agree that the pie should, under no circumstances, contain food coloring to give it a greenish hue. Key lime pie is supposed to be yellow, god dammit.
Unfortunately none of this information is particularly helpful when trying to determine criteria for a “best” key lime pie, so I guess I’ll have to go with general food excellence mixed with personal preference as the basis for my Best Key Lime Pie Contest judging this week.
I’ll rank pies on the following criteria, on a scale from 1-5:
Filling Flavor, in particular, Lime-iness (too bitter or too sweet)
Texture (too watery or too thick)
Crust (does it pair well with the filling, or not)
Accompaniments (does the whipped cream/meringue/fruit/etc. work with the pie)
For our first entrant into SB’s Public Service Best Key Lime Pie Contest we have:
House-made Key Lime Pie from The Sunset Grill.
Filling Flavor: Almost a perfect balance, but just a bit too sour for my taste. [3]
Texture: Fluffy, sort of a heavy chiffon texture. Easy to eat with a spoon. [4]
Crust: Seemed almost non-existent, but in a good way. It wasn’t graham crackers, it wasn’t pastry…was it meringue? Either way, it was a perfect match for the filling. [4]
Accompaniments: The whipped cream was a good balance to the texture of this pie, and the sweetness of the strawberries cut the bitterness of the filling. The syrups, while decorative, didn’t add much to the flavor experience, but they didn’t detract, either. [4]
Stay tuned for more hard-won findings on key lime pie, perhaps a decision on what makes the “best” version, and hopefully even a recipe or two. Voila.
Feast: The Farmhouse, Burlington VT
There’s not much going on in downtown Burlington, Vermont. A cool kitchen supply store, a head shop, a few galleries featuring photos of cows, two used bookstores with hefty “farming” sections, and approximately 17 rambling, muttering homeless people. It’s a charming little village.
And in the middle of all of this artful noise, The Farmhouse Tap and Grill exists as an homage to one of the things Vermont does best – local food.
The local food movement has been growing in popularity over the last few years, but restaurants that place a serious emphasis on local ingredients are still relatively few in number. Truthfully, this can be understandable in many areas of the country, where farming may not be a big part of industry, and local food production may be scarce. But in Vermont, where places like Misty Knoll Poultry and Jasper Hill Farms are right down the road, there is no excuse for local food to be far from your plate at any meal. The Farmhouse doesn’t just have one or two local producers on its menu – chalkboards on the walls proudly showcase lengthy lists of nearby farms.
Vermont is known in New England as being one of our most prolific cheese-making states, and The Farmhouse starts off its menu with an award-worthy catalogue of cheeses, along with a local charcuterie lineup. I was particularly excited to see Ascutney Mountain, a raw cow’s milk cheese not always available in Boston, on the list.
For lunch, offerings are simple – green salads, a grouping of burgers (beef, turkey, pork, and vegetarian options), or a choice from the “lunch plates” column, with options such as an Egg Salad Sandwich on Cyrus Pringle bread, or Pulled Tarragon Chicken Salad. And, like a lot of places in Vermont, you can get a sunny side up egg on anything (and you should, you really should). Because of the way The Farmhouse labels itself, I felt it was my duty to order a Misty Knoll Turkey burger and fries, to ensure the gastropub moniker wasn’t being misused.
It wasn’t.
The burger and fries were excellent, served with a row of house-made condiments: barbecue sauce, mustard, garlic aioli, and ketchup. But my dining partner’s Pulled Tarragon Chicken Salad with cider vinaigrette, Cabot Clothbound Cheddar, almonds, and dried cranberries was every bit as good. Three cheers for a restaurant that makes it really tough to choose between a salad and a burger.
The Farmhouse is also rightfully proud of its local beer list, rife with selections from Otter Creek, Rock Art, Hill Farmstead, and Magic Hat. They do have plenty of imported selections, but come on, why not drink local too? Though truthfully, I chose a glass of Ciacci Piccololomini d’Aragona (a Super Tuscan red wine, from Italy) to enjoy with my meal, and I have no regrets.
The gastropub’s dinner menu is similar to lunch, with “dinner plates” like meatloaf, chicken and biscuits, macaroni and cheese, and mussels. I’d be happy to try any of those options, but we weren’t compelled to order anything from their dessert menu. However, I think we were just full and needed to run the gauntlet of crazy Burlington street people before working up the appetite for Ben and Jerry’s (also local!) down the street. Though once we were outside in the rainy spring weather, we realized it was much more comfortable in the warm glow of Chef Clayton’s farm tabled restaurant.
Bottom line: If you are in Vermont, you should be eating local. If you are in Burlington, you should be eating at The Farmhouse.
Frame: On Cheating
I have no poker face.
I can’t tell a lie without giggling.
My dreams of being a CIA operative were dashed when I learned I was too tall- too conspicuous.
And, I’ve been told I’d be “no good” at infidelity.
But I’ll tell you what. It was really easy to cheat on scratch baking this week.
I’d been wanting to try pistachio cupcakes, but my last debacle with(out) self rising flour left me more gun-shy than normal for baking. So when I found a recipe on Kirbie’s Cravings for cupcakes that involved boxed white cake mix and instant pistachio pudding, I felt pretty ok about it.
The recipe also includes sour cream and vanilla, lest you think I’m too lazy, and it was so quick I was done mixing before the oven preheated. I made butter cream icing from scratch, and even used some food coloring to do a tiny bit of decoration.
Yeah, I cheated. And it tasted good.
Frame: The Essex, Just 200 Miles From Boston
When you google “Things to do in Vermont,” the results you come up with look like this:
-Boston is just a few hours away!
-Try cheese-making at Shelburne Farms!
-A nice day trip from Vermont is Boston, Massachusetts.
-Maple Syrup Farms Abound!
-Boston: Only 200 miles from Vermont.
-Visit the Ben and Jerry’s Factory!
-Seriously, Have You Tried Boston?
our Supper Series table, set with recipes
During the sleet-y spring season in Vermont, where most entertainment – hiking, skiing, snowshoeing – depends on the weather, leisure activities are limited. Which is why The Essex, Vermont’s Culinary Resort and Spa, is such a good find. As you may gather from the name, the pet-friendly hotel comes with an excellent health club and spa – one could easily spend a day or two getting massages or treatments, working out in the small gym or pool, and relaxing in the outdoor Jacuzzi, sauna, or steam room. The staff members are friendly and professional (one even wished us a “joyous day”), and the lounge areas are clean, elegant, and comfortable.
Even more exciting (to me), The Essex features a Cook Academy, described as a “low-pressure, hands-on culinary experience where you can learn new techniques or hone the skills you already have.” With two very well-appointed kitchen spaces, the Academy offers between 2-6 classes a day, ranging from topics like “Cooking with Guinness” to “Sushi and Dumplings.” You can sign up for Technique classes, learning skills like poaching an egg or making sauces, or Supper Series classes, where you’ll assist your instructor in making a three course meal. Or, you can sign up for “Chef’s Table,” where you will “relax with other diners from around the world and watch your chef prepare your meal.”
feeding just-made dough through the pasta maker
We chose a Supper Series class – “Warm Winter Wonderland” – during which we helped our instructor, Jane Kirby, prepare Warm Crab Dip, Roasted Chicken with Tarragon Cream Sauce and Egg Noodles, and Apple Crumble.
our instructor, Jane Kirby
From the very beginning of class, Jane stressed the hands-on element, reminding us that we won’t learn how to cut an onion unless we actually cut an onion. I’m a kinesthetic learner anyway, so I really appreciated her attitude in the kitchen. Rather than make us feel that this was her kitchen that we were visiting, from the minute I stuck my hand in a pile of eggs and flour to make noodles, Jane made me feel right at home.
warm crab dip with toasted baguettes
Along with teaching us how to chop an onion, Jane peppered the class with useful tidbits about cooking, food, and the food world. A registered dietician, food editor and writer, farmer, teacher, and traveler (among many other things, I’m sure), Jane knows her stuff. Do you know how to pick the juiciest lemon? I didn’t- and I work in the food business. But according to Jane, you look for a lemon with smooth rind. I’ve already put this to the test, and she’s absolutely right.
chicken with tarragon cream and roasted squash
While we prepared our chicken, Jane shared her thoughts on pans (don’t use non-stick, never put anything else in your omelette pan), James Beard (the father of cooking), and local, sustainable food (a must). Her multi-tasking skills were impressive- I can barely get my protein and vegetables to be warm at the same time, much less teach three people to hand roll and cut pasta, pan-sear chicken, and make an appetizer and dessert – all while chatting pleasantly – in just two hours.
apple crumble
The class ended with all participants sitting down to eat the dinner we had prepared, and getting a bonus of house-made vanilla ice cream to go with our apple crumble. I came away feeling like I’d definitely learned a few things, and wishing I could take classes like this more often. And best of all, I got to make a big mess in the kitchen and I didn’t have to do any of the dishes. Voila.
Note: We got a mid-week package deal (advertised at the recent Travel Expo in Boston), that included one massage and one cooking class. If you can swing it, mid-week is the time to go – cooking classes and spa appointments book up fast on the weekend (remember, Vermont in March leaves you with two choices: Boston or The Essex). While our Supper Series class had only three (out of a 16 person max) participants on a Wednesday night, it is currently sold out on Saturdays for the next three weeks.
Frame: Why I Don’t Like Restaurant Week
Maybe I shouldn’t admit this, but I don’t like Restaurant Week. I know the masses create a cyber-stampede on OpenTable when reservations open up, but after really trying to give it another chance last summer, I give up.
At its best, the idea behind Restaurant Week (I think) is to allow people to try new restaurants at a cheaper price. Sounds good in theory, right? A three course lunch for $20.11 or a three course dinner for $30.11, a discounted option for tasting appetizers, entrees, and desserts from new places – what could be better?
The problem is that most restaurants seem to hate Restaurant Week as well- they slap together cheap-seeming (and tasting) options that don’t include anything from their normal menu. My most disappointing experience occurred last summer at Harvest – a much lauded Cambridge spot – which I visited for the first time during RW. I was hoping to be dazzled by Chef Mary Dumont’s local focus, but was instead greeted by a harried waiter (not his fault- RW is very busy) who took far too long and messed up my order. Of the six dishes that I ate that night- my dining partner and I each ordered completely different items for tasting purposes- I remember only one being even moderately interesting. Bored, I wrote Harvest off until I had the opportunity to taste Chef Dumont’s food (amazing) at Cochon 555. How many restaurants have left diners with a bad impression after a sub-par RW meal?
But then, maybe most people don’t care about the food, and are just looking for a cheap night out. If that’s what you’re after, then RW is for you. And, there will always be a sizeable contingent of Boston diners that enjoy being seen at the hot spots drinking a martini, regardless of the food quality- another reason why I don’t like RW: I’ve been trying to make reservations at some of my favorite places this week, and they are all booked up. Stuffed full with people looking for a deal, a scene, and a martini. Damn you, Restaurant Week, you owe me dinners at Hungry Mother, TW Food, and Oleana, all for $30.11.
Food: MoSB’s Lemon Chicken
There is a long list of dishes I need my mother to prepare for me whenever I see her for any length of time. I’m not talking about holiday foods, or the fancy recipes that MoSB excels at. I’m talking about the everyday favorites that were in regular rotation when I was a kid – hot chicken salad, beef casserole, spaghetti with meatballs, italian pasta salad with vegetables, blueberry pie. Filling, nutritional (well sort of, I am including pie in this list) dishes that a busy working mom could prepare without too much fuss. In this genre of mom-food, none was more beloved t by my family than her Lemon Chicken. Probably the most healthy of the afore-mentioned bunch, Mom could make a big batch of this, pair it with any green vegetable, and we’d be happy. If a neighbor moved in or a friend was sick, you could bet a glass baking dish full of Lemon Chicken was headed their way.
Like my recipe for Vodka Sauce, the proportions for Lemon Chicken don’t need to be exact, just make sure you have enough butter in your pan sauce to get a glossy finish before you pour it over the chicken. Your house will smell like you spent all day roasting a chicken, but in reality this only takes about 45 minutes to put together, including baking time.
Lemon Chicken
4 boneless, skinless chicken cutlets (or chicken breasts)
½ cup flour mixed with ½ cup parmesan cheese
shake salt and pepper
1-2 eggs, beaten
1 stick butter
¼ to ½ cup canola oil
Juice of 1-2 lemons
1 lemon sliced thin
1/2 cup good white wine
Capers, about 2 oz.
Enough fresh parsley to place on top when baking and to garnish when serving
Dry chicken breasts with towel. Put flour and cheese mixture and salt and pepper in a plastic bag , coat chicken in the flour mixture, then dip in beaten egg.
Heat 2 tablespoons butter and ¼ cup of canola oil in frying pan to medium high heat. Sauté chicken in batches, adding more butter or oil as needed. When chicken is browned on both sides put in single layer in baking dish.
Add wine to pan, then add lemon juice and at least 2 more tbsp butter to this mixture, cook down. Place lemon slices on top of chicken in baking dish, sprinkle capers over all. Pour lemon/wine sauce on top, place parsley sprigs throughout dish.
Bake in 350 degree oven for 20 to 25 minutes. Remove parsley and replace with fresh.
Voila.
Frame: Men are Brutes
From my Fannie Farmer cookbook. Good thing I don’t own any “dishpans.”
Food: Not Pistachio Cupcakes
About four years ago I ripped out this luscious picture of a fluffy green cupcake from an issue of Bon Appetit. (I was in a real magazine photo phase, and I still occasionally rip out and save particularly good glossy pictures.) I have had this picture on a cork board, where I see it every day, for those past four years. I even went so far as to move this cupcake picture to new cork boards that I purchased when I redecorated my apartment. For four years this verdant masterpiece has been staring me in the face, and finally, a few days ago, I got the undeniable urge to make a batch of those cupcakes. There was just one issue.
For four years I’ve thought that sweet in the photo was a pistachio cupcake. I have a thing for pistachio flavored items- you don’t run across them very often, but when you do they are usually a fun neon green (think pistachio ice cream) and have an interesting balance of sweet and salty- as do actual pistachio nuts. Plus, its fun to say. Pistachio.
But when I finally took down that cupcake photo to check out the recipe, my world was all but shattered. My beloved, luscious, fluffy cupcake was actually key lime flavored, not pistachio at all. Much like my issues with paying attention while baking, it appears I have little patience for reading picture captions as well, and I guess I forgot that the other flavor generally accompanied by neon green color, is lime. But who the hell wants a key lime cupcake?
However, I’m no quitter, so I put together the ingredients for Buttersweet Bakery’s Key Lime Cupcake, finding everything except for self-rising flour and thinking, eh, I probably don’t really need that.
Unfortunately the key to this recipe appears to have been self -rising flour.
The cupcakes I made were more like flatcakes. Very dense and short, and while nice when they were warm, hardened to a pretty inedible mass once cooled. However, the lime-cream cheese frosting from the recipe was really delicious, and I’ll be eating those leftovers by the spoonful until I find a recipe for pistachio cupcakes that does not require self- rising flour.
Pistachio.
Food: Not Exactly Healthy
I like salad, but I especially like it when it’s wrapped in meat. And I especially like it when that meat is prosciutto. An easy appetizer combines both greens and this salty meat, and doesn’t take long to make. If mache isn’t available, you can substitute arugula or mixed greens, but don’t use iceberg or romaine- too unwieldy and not enough flavor for this dish.
Greens Wrapped in Prosciutto
1 container Mache (or Arugula)
1/2 cup olive oil
1 small shallot, minced
2 tbsp lemon juice or red wine vinegar
1/8 cup Parmesean cheese flakes
1 tsp dijon mustard
1/2 lb prosciutto slices
Whisk lemon juice, mustard, and parmesan in a bowl, add shallot, stream in olive oil. Taste, adjust quantities if needed. Dress salad greens. Take a pinch of the greens and place at one end of a slice of proscuitto, roll tightly. Voila.
Frame: Keep Calm
Here’s to Delish cupcake bakery in Austin, and an excellent Mexican Vanilla Cupcake.
Frame: Curious Indeed
Frame: SB Goes to Austin
Austin appears to like beer in pretty much every format.
The Best Thing Since Sliced Bread 