Submitted by Kathleen Fleury on Tue, 03/25/2008 - 6:43pm.
Ok, so I'm a little late on the pick up with this press release (the magazine was released back in February) but I wanted to revisit this article, "Breakfast in America,"
for two reasons: 1) vocabulary and 2) Breakfast inspiration.Details
lists twenty-five places "to go for a morning repast-fluffy eggs, buttery pancakes, house-smoked bacon-that could outshine a four-star dinner."
Submitted by Kathleen Fleury on Mon, 03/24/2008 - 6:59am.
Last week I went to a potluck, a big pot of meatballs in tote. When I arrived, a few appetizers lined the counter, including a bowl of tiny shrimp, hand picked by the host. I spied an open bottle of Ken's Cocktail Sauce (the only store-bought brand that can actually clear your nostrils with the kick of horseradish) and decided to pop a few shrimp into my mouth. (I had been prejudiced against these little crustaceans for a long while. I must have had a bad experience once, for I remember them
Submitted by Kathleen Fleury on Fri, 03/21/2008 - 8:59pm.
Whenever a holiday approaches, I often find my taste buds yearning for ham. Christmas morning, while characterized by presents and a roaring fire in the fireplace, is most identifiable by the wafting smell of ham in the oven that creeps up the stairs and into my room. It's almost like an alarm clock that only works a few days out of the year - but it's by far the best to wake up to.
Now I am not just referring to any generic ham. No, I am talking about one ham and one ham only: the smoked
Submitted by Kathleen Fleury on Thu, 03/20/2008 - 4:26pm.
In the April issue of Down East
I review the Lewiston hot spot Fuel, a very cosmopolitan eatery serving French bistro food.
Read the full review here.
Submitted by Kathleen Fleury on Wed, 03/19/2008 - 5:51am.
It's that time of year again. Basketball takes over the airwaves and office chatter, as images of brackets dance in our heads. We (even those of us not particularly interested in the sport) direct our attention to games on TV. It's a welcome distraction, really, given the alternative, which is to look outside and realize you're actually in Maine in March and it's thirty degrees and the forecast is for snow/sleet/rain/depression.
March really does embody madness in Maine - the madness Mainers
Submitted by Kathleen Fleury on Mon, 03/17/2008 - 3:30pm.
The Portland Press Herald
published their 22nd annual readers' poll
yesterday. 1795 people voted, and the results highlighted an element of the culinary culture in Maine that people in the high-end food community and the local food movement don't often discuss: the popularity of chains. Some highlights:
Best Restaurant: Fore Street 78, Olive garden 67
Best Cheap Eats: McDonald's
Submitted by Kathleen Fleury on Fri, 03/14/2008 - 11:36am.
Ok, so not only is 55 part of the name of one of Maine's best restaurants, the delectable 555 on Congress Street, but it is also Maine's lucky number for 2008. Saveur
magazine, in its annual top 100 food "things" of the year
, listed our state (in its entirety) 55th. The Maine favorite, Morse's Sauerkraut, was number 50. Of course the numbering is not a ranking but rather a random
Submitted by Kathleen Fleury on Fri, 03/14/2008 - 9:55am.
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Submitted by Kathleen Fleury on Fri, 03/14/2008 - 8:23am.
Looking for a new career in the food industry? You might just want to turn to syrup. The real, maple stuff, that is, that actually comes from trees. According to an Associated Press article
, the Maine Maple Producers Association
is predicting that prices for the sweet stuff will increase by 20 or 30 percent this year. The cause: two bad syrup seasons and increased
Submitted by Kathleen Fleury on Mon, 03/10/2008 - 8:33pm.
If I hear the term baked spaghetti, I don't think of Italian red sauce and stringy mozzarella. I think of juicy warm tomatoes, tender beef, thick pasta, creamy cheddar, and most important of all, salt pork. All of these ingredients, plus two baseball-sized onions, combine in one burned, orange Le Creuset pot to emerge from the oven one hour later, bubbling and steaming hot. I also think of Augusta.
When I was little, the Sunday after Christmas was deemed, at least in my mind, Baked Spaghetti day.