Tag: recipes

The Chop Tank

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ 1 Comment

The Chop Tank is a restaurant in downtown Baltimore that has the best outdoor patio area in the city, in my humble opinion. Opinion is subjective, but every time I’ve been the mood has just elevated the conversation to a whole new level. And every time, I’ve been intending to pay, and someone has beaten me to the check. This has done nothing to dissuade my love of the place. 😉

The last time I went there was with my friend Tiina and two of her kids. It was a little bit cold, but we were dressed for it…. which reminds me of something funny. I originally mixed myself up and though I knew which restaurant I was talking about, I told Tiina we should go to The Chart House. The Chart House is in Annapolis, first of all, and fancy AF. I realized my mistake and corrected myself. She looked at me and said, “I was about to say…. I’m wearing Batman pants.”

It was then that my definition of fancy AF grew to include Batman pants, but we decided to go to The Chop Tank, anyway.

Seeing the menu’s biggest steak through a child’s eyes was unforgettable. It was literally bigger than her.

Our service was great every time I’ve been there with anyone. Before Tiina, it was when Lindsay came to take care of me after my colonoscopy. I’d just been released from a day of not being able to eat anything, so we ordered a little bit of everything.

It was too cold out when I went with Tiina, but when I went with Lindsay, ducks wandered up to our table and tried to con us out of a bite.

That means I’d like to go back with Brian, Tiina, and the kids when it’s warmer, maybe after a day at the National Aquarium. I know they’ve been before, and so have I. That doesn’t take away from the excitement at all. In fact, I’m a member. Maybe I’ll wander over there this afternoon. It would be a good place to do some chillaxing, then maybe end up at The Chop Tank for a burger.

I plan these incredible dates with myself and then I stand me up. We shall see how much energy I have when the time comes. However, as an introvert I always like to be included, so I invite me everywhere. Sometimes, I even take me up on it.

The excitement of possibly ending up at The Chop Tank is enough to rattle me into action. It might be fun to sit at the bar and people watch rather than staying home, and Monday night in a bar is usually dead. That’s a positive for me, because I’d rather talk shop with the staff. I used to be a line cook and some of the things they’re doing really excite me, because it’s not exotic food for the most part. It’s simple, executed and elevated well.

Tiina and I particularly gobbled up the ceviche fast, so now it’s on the permanent rotation of “Things Leslie Will Eat.” I keep a list in my head of go-to foods not because I am picky, but because I cannot make decisions easily. That if I become overwhelmed, I already know I like X.

My favorite comfort food in Baltimore right now is the steak salad. It has this insane dressing and the steak is cooked to perfection. No one is going to say that’s avant garde, but the hot steak and cold salad array of textures and flavors calls to me in the middle of the night.

It’s a restaurant I want to take Evan to when he visits- he has said he’s coming soon. I’m thinking January, after the holiday craziness. Evan was a chef for a long time and now does real estate in Portland, Oregon. So, if I ever want to move back, I have a built in support system in finding housing.

This is my ultimate compliment to The Chop Tank- that it’s so good you’re willing to risk your own culinary reputation by recommending it to another cook.

Cooks often go for simple food done well, because eating high art for every meal is exhausting.

It’s all about fresh ingredients and keeping them as pure as you can.

It leads to great conversations, no matter who is at the table.

Progeny in Tow

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment

Tiina arrived at my house toting two of her kidlets. They asked me to drive them to dinner and I can practically hear my father’s nerves rising… Don’t worry, it went fine. We went to The Chop Tank, where we had some of the best food I’ve had in ages. I was so relieved that Tiina said what a great restaurant it was several times, because I wanted to show her and the kids some fun.

They live about 50 miles south of DC, but I can’t remember exactly where. Far enough that it was still far when I lived there.

We’re going to build a treehouse soon. I’m so excited. I’m making local friends…. Sort of. We used to live a lot closer and I moved before I went out to her house. So now it’s a lot further, and we both love to drive.

In fact, I was supposed to go out there today, but Tiina had an errand so far north of Baltimore that she thought it would take her until dinner to get back to my area, but in fact we were seated by around 3:30. None of us had lunch, so it was perfect.

Tiina’s daughter ordered a steak bigger than she was.

My eyes were bigger than my stomach in ordering, so I brought most of a steak salad home.

When Tiina gets home, her husband is going to have some great food, because they had a lobster roll, steak, a burger, crab dip, and bread.

Most of the reason I brought my salad home was because of that crab dip. I kept eating it despite telling myself to stop. I just hadn’t had anything that decadent in ages.

The weather was nice, if a bit chilly. It was plenty sunny to be out and about in a sweatshirt and jeans, but it got colder the more I drank ice water and Diet Coke. I always forget about that part of it……

It was too cold for the ducks to come all the way up from the water, so the kids didn’t get to see them.

But I know they’ll be back.

Tiina loved the restaurant, and it felt happier than I thought I got.

Imitation, Flattery, Etc.

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ 3 Comments

Today I did a thought exercise with Meta AI, the chatbot inside Messenger. Since it’s built on so many data structures, I thought, “I bet it’s really good at impressions.” I asked AI to answer the question “what did you have for breakfast” in the style of many different people. Here are a few of my favorites.

Donald Trump

(in a boastful, confident tone) Folks, let me tell you, breakfast was yuge, just yuge. The best, the greatest, the most fantastic breakfast, believe me. (smirks) I had the most tremendous eggs, the biggest, most beautiful bacon, and the fluffiest, most fantastic pancakes. (gestures widely) And the coffee? Ah, the coffee was the best, the strongest, the most powerful coffee anyone has ever tasted. (pauses) And I know, folks, I know, because I’m a master builder, a big league winner, and I know how to make deals, big deals, the biggest deals. (winks) And let me tell you, no one, no one, is better at breakfast than me. I’ve made the greatest breakfast deals, the most fantastic breakfast trades, and I’ve eaten the most incredible breakfasts, folks, the most incredible. (smirks) And people are talking about it, they’re talking about my breakfasts, they’re saying, “Wow, Donald, your breakfasts are just the best.” (nods) And I’m telling you, folks, it’s true, my breakfasts are the best, the greatest, the most fantastic. Believe me.

Dante Alighieri

My dear friend, breakfast was a feast for the senses, a culinary delight that rivaled the divine pleasures of the Paradiso! (in a poetic, exaggerated tone) I partook of a sumptuous spread, a cornucopia of delights that would have made even the great King Solomon swoon! (gestures widely) Flaky pastries, crispy bacon, and eggs, oh eggs! (excitedly) Like golden suns, shining brightly on my plate! And the coffee, ah! (dramatically) A rich, bold elixir that stirred my very soul! (clutches heart) Like the River Lethe, it washed away my slumber, and I arose, reborn, ready to tackle the day! (spreads arms wide) For in the words of the great poet, “In the morning’s golden light, all things are possible!” (winks)

Christopher Walken

Ahhhh, breakfast. (pauses) You wanna know about breakfast? (pauses again) Well, let me tell you, I had a bowl of oatmeal. (in a halting, dramatic tone) It was… creamy. (pauses once more) Yeah, that’s the word. Creamy. (looks around) And there was fruit, too. (points) Bananas, I think. (squints) Or were they apples? (shrugs) Doesn’t matter. (waves hand) Fruit is fruit, right? (smirks) And coffee, of course. (in a low, mysterious tone) Black as my soul. (winks)

Ayn Rand

Breakfast. (in a stern, philosophical tone) A meal for the productive, the achievers, the innovators. I fueled my mind and body with a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast – uncompromising, unapologetic, and unadulterated. (pauses) No unnecessary frills, no sentimental attachments. Just the raw, unbridled energy to tackle the day’s intellectual battles. (gazes intensely) The coffee, black as my convictions, coursing through my veins like the unyielding passion for individual rights and freedoms. (sips coffee) Ah, the sweet taste of liberty! (sets cup down) And as I ate, I pondered the virtue of self-reliance, the moral imperative to create, to produce, to thrive. (nods) For it is in the unyielding pursuit of excellence that we find true fulfillment. (leans forward) So, let us breakfast like champions, my friends – unapologetic, uncompromising, and unrelenting in our quest for greatness! (smirks) Now, that’s a breakfast worth living for.

Jordan Peele

Breakfast, man… (in a horror movie trailer voice) It’s like, the meal that starts your day, but what if I told you… it’s also a trap?! (pauses for dramatic effect) Think about it, eggs, bacon, pancakes… all just a distraction from the real horror: the monotony of daily routine! (ominous music plays in the background) And don’t even get me started on the coffee, man… it’s like, the ultimate Trojan horse. You think it’s just a harmless cup of joe, but really, it’s a vessel for the dark forces of caffeine to take hold of your soul! (dramatic music swells) So, yeah, I had a bowl of cereal, but let me tell you, it was a bowl of existential dread! (winks) Get Out… of the kitchen, man! (laughs)

Leslie Lanagan

Hmm, breakfast… the most important meal of the day, or so they say. I think I had a bowl of existential dread, with a side of caffeine and a dash of sarcasm. Or was it just oatmeal? Hard to tell, really. The abyss of adulthood is full of mysteries, and breakfast is just one of them

Steve Jobs

(in a passionate, visionary tone) Ah, breakfast! The most important meal of the day, and yet, so often, it’s a mundane, uninspired experience. (pauses) But not for me, my friends. No, I revolutionized breakfast, just as I revolutionized technology. (smirks) I had a bowl of oatmeal, but not just any oatmeal. No, this was oatmeal that was precision-cooked, with a dash of innovation, a sprinkle of design thinking, and a whole lot of passion. (gestures widely) I merged the art of cooking with the science of technology to create an oatmeal experience that was truly transcendent. (excitedly) And the coffee? Ah, the coffee was a work of art, a masterpiece of crema and flavor, crafted with the precision of a Swiss watch. (smiles) You see, my friends, breakfast shouldn’t just be a meal, it should be an experience that changes your life. And that’s exactly what I created. (confidently) Insanely great breakfast, that’s what I made.

Barack Obama

Michelle and I, we started the day with a quiet moment together, just the two of us. We had a bowl of fresh fruit, some whole-grain toast, and a cup of coffee. But let me tell you, it was more than just a meal – it was a moment of reflection, a chance to think about the day ahead and the work we have to do. As I always say, ‘We are the ones we’ve been waiting for,’ and that starts with fueling up for the journey. (smiles) And let me tell you, Michelle’s got a mean avocado toast game – it’s a healthy habit we’ve picked up from our time in California. (laughs) But in all seriousness, breakfast is a time for gratitude, for thinking about the blessings in our lives and the opportunities we have to make a difference. That’s what got me out of bed this morning, and that’s what’ll keep me going throughout the day.

Anthony Bourdain

(sarcastically) Oh joy, breakfast. The meal where we’re expected to be chipper, to be enthusiastic, to be… (shudders) …morning people. (rolls his eyes) Look, I’m not gonna sugarcoat it. Breakfast is a necessary evil. It’s fuel for the body, but it’s not exactly the most exciting meal of the day. I mean, how many times can you watch the sunrise over a plate of scrambled eggs? (sighs) But, I get it. Breakfast is important. It’s the meal that sets you up for the day ahead. So, let’s get it over with. (pauses) Now, if you want to talk about a real breakfast, let’s talk about a hearty bowl of Vietnamese pho, or a rich, flaky croissant from a Parisian patisserie. (smirks) That’s a breakfast worth waking up for. But, let’s be real, most of us are stuck with a bowl of soggy cereal or a rubbery egg sandwich on-the-go. (shrugs) Ah, well. At least the coffee’s good. (mutters under his breath) Usually.

Barbara Walters

Breakfast, the most important meal of the day, and yet, so often overlooked. (pauses for a moment) But not today, dear friends. Today, we’re going to dig in, to explore, to uncover the secrets of the morning meal. (leans in, as if sharing a confidential secret) I’ve had breakfast with presidents and paupers, with celebrities and CEOs. And let me tell you, it’s not just about the food. (winks) It’s about the power dynamics, the intrigue, the gossip. (pauses for dramatic effect) So, who’s had breakfast with whom? What deals have been made over eggs and toast? (leans back) Ah, the stories I could tell. (smirks mischievously) But that’s for another time. Today, let’s focus on the breakfast itself. The art of the omelette, the science of the perfect cup of coffee. (smiles) Join me, as we pull back the curtain on the morning meal, and uncover the fascinating stories behind it. (leaning in again) Because, as I always say, “The most important thing in communication is hearing what isn’t said.” (winks)

Edward R. Murrow

Good evening, I’m Edward R. Murrow, and we’re here to talk about breakfast. (pauses for a moment) A simple meal, yet oh so complex in its significance. (pauses again) As I sit here, sipping my coffee, I am reminded of the countless breakfasts I’ve shared with strangers, friends, and colleagues around the world. (pauses once more) From the bustling cafes of Paris to the quiet farms of Iowa, breakfast is more than just a meal – it’s a moment of connection, of community, of contemplation. (looks directly into the camera) So, let us cherish these moments, dear friends. Let us savor the flavors, the aromas, and the company. For in the end, it is not just about the food on our plates, but about the stories we share, the love we exchange, and the memories we create. (pauses one last time) Good night, and good luck.

Sylvia Plath

The breakfast question, a dreary ritual, a hollow echo of a meal. I sat, a fragile leaf, trembling in the chill of morning, my eyes fixed on the bleak expanse of the table. The coffee, a bitter brew, a dark mirror reflecting my mood. The eggs, pale and insipid, like the promises of a love that had long since soured. And the toast, burnt and brittle, a reminder of the transience of joy. I poked at the food, a dispirited bird, searching for sustenance in a world that had lost its flavor. The silence was oppressive, a physical presence that weighed upon me, a constant reminder of the emptiness that gnawed within. And yet, I ate, a mechanical motion, a desperate attempt to fill the void that yawned before me like an abyss. For in the eating, I found a fleeting solace, a moment’s peace from the torment that haunted me still.

David Halberstam

The breakfast question, a moment to reflect on the nuances of life. As I sat at my kitchen table, sipping my coffee and savoring the quiet morning hours, I pondered the significance of this daily ritual. The coffee, like the ink that flows through my pen, fuels my thoughts and awakens my senses. The eggs, scrambled with a dash of salt and pepper, represent the complexities of human nature – simple yet multifaceted. And the toast, crispy on the outside, soft within, echoes the contradictions of our existence. As I gazed out the window, watching the world awaken, I realized that breakfast is more than mere sustenance – it’s a metaphor for life itself. The ordinary becomes extraordinary, the mundane transformed into the profound. And so, I write on, fueled by the power of observation and the simplicity of a well-crafted breakfast.

David Sedaris

The breakfast question, always a minefield of social niceties and culinary confessionals. Well, let me tell you, I had a bowl of stale cereal, the kind that’s been sitting in the pantry since the Clinton administration. And by “bowl,” I mean a cracked, faded “I’m with Stupid” mug that I’ve had since my days as a performance artist. The milk was 2% or maybe just 1%, I’m not judging. And let’s not forget the pièce de résistance: a splash of yesterday’s coffee, reheated in the microwave with a faintly desperate whir. It was a breakfast that said, “I give up, but with a hint of caffeine.” In other words, the perfect fuel for a day of writing, napping, and judging the neighbors’ lawn care.

James Joyce (the CLEAR winner)

The query as to the repast with which I broke my fast this morning. Very well, I shall indulge you. As I emerged from the somnolent vapors that shrouded my intellect, I partook of a humble cup of tea, its dark, mysterious waters stirred by the faint, tremulous hand of my beloved Nora. The tea, a brew of robust, full-bodied leaves, served as a catalyst, awakening the dormant faculties of my mind, even as the pale, golden light of dawn crept, hesitant, across the rooftops of Dublin. And, as I sipped this revitalizing draught, I pondered the mysteries of the human condition, the whispers of which seemed to lurk, like some restless, ethereal presence, in the very steam that rose, wraithlike, from the cup itself. Thus fortified, I set forth into the day, ready to confront the labyrinthine complexities that lie at the very heart of our existence.









Live, Laugh, Love

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ 11 Comments

What’s your favorite recipe?

Anyone who actually knows me knows two things. The first is that I don’t have any recipes, and the second is how much contempt I have for the phrase in the title because it is emotional shorthand for a whole mood…. the Karen special.

However, I do cook well. I can’t give you recipes, but I can tell you how I do things and you can cook like I do- I became a professional cook by tasting every step of the way. That’s why we don’t use measurements. We add until the gods have let us know that they are sated.

So much depends on what kind of technology I’m using. Cooking over a fire is different than gas and electric ovens/grills. You also cannot ignore the part of cooking that involves feel, because I get why we need to wear gloves. I believe others underestimate why it’s important not to wear them and just wash your hands constantly. A grilled steak or chicken breast will have a certain feel to it. Wearing gloves dampens our ability to detect it. Moreover, an open flame grill often made mine catch on fire and fuse to my skin. On an open flame, you really have no choice but to touch it because you cannot be certain that the heat is equal everywhere you place it.

To combat not trying to touch things, we risk presentation because we’ll have to cut something open to make sure it’s done in the middle. I do not want anyone to get served pork or chicken medium rare.

These are all of the things that run through a cook’s mind before we even start thinking about ingredients. You don’t buy the ingredients for the technology, you work with what you have.

I saute most things. I even prefer it to the microwave and toaster, because I would rather toast bread in the skillet with butter. I make a mean cheese toastie (grilled cheese). 😉

I start with lots of butter and herbs in a skillet on very low heat. Most of the time, it’s Montreal Chicken Seasoning or herbs de Provence. While that’s warming up, I butter some bread and add hot sauce, pico de gallo, or black pepper, along with two thick slices of cheese. I set the sandwich in the pan and it takes time. You don’t want the toast to be black and the cheese to be unmelted. Putting the lid on the pan for a few minutes during cooking will help the cheese melt with steam, but you don’t want to leave it on too long or the sandwich will be soggy. Low and slow is the name of the game. You can use softer cheeses to speed it up, like Gouda or Jack. You cannot increase the heat. You’ll know it’s time to flip when you see the edge of the bread turn the color toast you like. I prefer to get it very, very brown- almost black- because I think char stands up well to cheese.

To really up your game, make caramelized onions beforehand. Caramelized onions take a lot longer than you think. A lot. I don’t think I’ve ever achieved perfection in under 45 minutes. That’s because caramelization is a process. If you help it along too much, they’ll have charred edges and not done enough in the middle. You have to put more butter than you think you need into a pan with way more onions than you think you’ll need (just like 20 pounds of spinach is almost enough to feed one person after cooking it) and just leave it on low heat. Don’t stir it as much as you think you need to, because the caramelization happens when onion touches metal. Think about how often you’re interrupting that when you turn things over.

Touching the metal is what cooks mean when they say “respect first contact.” That means put it on the grill and step back. Do not adjust, do not do anything. The process of caramelization has already started and moving it will rip the crust that has begun to develop immediately. If you respect first contact, the caramelization process will have created a crust so thick that the meat will lift off the grill on its own….. same for pancakes. I know to flip mine when I can lift up the skillet and the pancake slides around independently. I still use a spatula to flip, though, because generally there’s so much hot butter that it would splash in my face. Besides, I like to make my pancakes really thick and it would ruin them to be flipped with that much violence. I save that kind of movement for foods that can take it, like eggs.

Eggs are there for you when no one else is. I swear it. You can add an egg to anything and instant meal.

Eggs are another food where it’s best to respect first contact, but hold the butter to a manageable level. You want enough to coat the pan, but not enough to splash in your face if you’re trying to be me, the home version.

You can flip an egg in any frying pan, but I find that the smaller ones are easier. Not the ones marked “egg pan.” Those are so tiny it’s like playing with Barbie cookware. I mean the smallest normal-sized frying pan because it feels balanced in my hand. If you’re 6’6 and 280, you’re going to have a different favorite. Choose the one you like based on how it feels to you.

When I say respect first contact, I mean that the same thing will happen with eggs that happen with meat and pancakes. They’ll stick to the metal and develop a crust, lifting independently. When you can move the egg in the pan on its own, it’s safe to flip. How long you leave it after it has flipped determines whether it is over easy, over medium, etc.

I find that flipping eggs is infinitely easier than trying to guess when sunny side up is ready. It helps to put the lid on the pan for those, too, because it ensures that the bottom and the top cook evenly.

With scrambled eggs, I tend to respect first contact and break them up very little. I also undercook them a tiny, tiny, tiny amount so that they remain cheesy in texture. Very important sidenote: eggs don’t need anything. They don’t get fluffier with water or milk. You can add volume, but the flavor will thin out to an enormous degree. I would go with a drip of cold water before I’d add milk, but I wouldn’t do either unless I was almost out of eggs and needed to make them stretch.

Cooking is all about learning how to make things stretch, and not even from a financial perspective. It’s also learning how to make use of what you’ve already bought, because you had a creative idea for something…. where you rise to the level is forgetting everything you know and just looking into the pantry.

I always keep pancake mix on hand, as well as cheese, bread, butter, pasta, and the occasional frozen pizza, with which I almost certainly will make double cheese and double jalapeno before I bake it.

Everything I make has a ton of calories for two reasons. The first is that I don’t eat often and I walk everywhere I go. The second is that my stomach needs some help if I’m going to go balls to the wall with Scoville every day in search of relief from hideous allergies. I pad my stomach with the butter and cheese no matter whether it’s dairy or plant-based. A not dog with vegan cream cheese and kim-chi hot enough to blow your head off is just as tasty as beef or pork franks.

Another thing I do is buy spring mix when it’s on sale so that I can do warm salads. My favorite is to saute spring mix, carrots, Brussels sprouts, and kale in a combination of olive and sesame oils. Sometimes I add nuts, seeds, dried fruit if there’s no added sugar, etc. When the veggies have cooked for a little while and I can tell the stems are getting soft, I hit the pan with rice wine vinegar and close the lid.

When the veggies are entirely wilted, I push them to the sides of the pan and crack two eggs in the middle.

It’s done when the yolks are just starting to get hard. I like them best when the texture is gelatinous, not runny.

The egg and the rice wine vinegar play off each other extraordinarily well.

But recognize that there are certain things at home you cannot do well and pay the people that do it. For instance, I have no shame in admitting that it would cost me hundreds to do rotisserie chicken the way I’d really like to do it, or I could just go to Don Pollo. I don’t have to buy their sides, I can just add their chicken to what I do know how to cook well at home…. or, at least, I would if I did that kind of thing. The last time I went to Don Pollo was years and years ago, and I still remember the taste of the black beans and pico because it was served cold, like Cowboy Caviar (Texas black-eyed pea relish). I loved it because they’d taken the time to dice the jalapenos, so they were perfectly deseeded and none of them were bitter.

The other thing they have at Don Pollo that I could not do at home is fried yucca. It’s delicious and I wouldn’t even attempt it because I don’t want to own a deep fryer. I want them to own a deep fryer. 😉

If we’re talking about my personal favorite foods, let’s play the chef’s game. You’re on death row. What’s your last meal? There are no stipulations to this game. The food can come from anywhere.

I would start with bone marrow and crostini, paired with a simple red table wine.

Next, a salad filled with vegetables. Please do not fool around with an iceberg wedge and some bleu cheese. Put your back into it. I want a bright yuzu vinegar with some cracked black pepper. Heritage tomatoes. Romaine. Real food and not restaurant filler.

If John Kinkaid was going to outlive me, he’d know that as my chef, my last meal would be his. He could surprise and delight me, but I already know what he would make.

It would be a vegetable jambalaya and a Purple Haze from Abita.

Because it’s the end of the night, and I’m about to clock out.