Culinary Historians of Chicago
WINTER 2001
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NEWSLETTER OF THE Culinary Historians of Chicago |
WINTER 2001 |
I could be cooking in the local style. In the few weeks since moving I have been gradually exploring the region's cuisine. It is fascinating, really. Just today I had to visit the mall on Route 13 in Carbondale. Getting out of the van an overpoweringly delicious odor drifted over me -- deep-fried something or other. Across the highway there are all the national purveyors of oil-drenched foods, from chicken to fish and maybe even hush puppies. It was hard to move, what with my veins closing fast from the nose down. Moving on toward the mall entrance another unmistakable smell grabbed me -- barbecue done in a sweet-smoky marinade. There, in one olfactoral swoop is the substance of local cookery: deep fried and, if not, then smoked or grilled. Maybe I should deep fry the duck, only this time not burning off my eyebrows as the last time when doing a turkey this way. or maybe I should make a sickeningly sweet sauce, in the local style.
All of this goes with the local culture, of course. During the Great Moves (plural), I discarded a lot of the old particle board furniture that had accumulated over the years. Needing something to sit on besides wine crates, we read an ad in a local newspaper for a furniture store in Herrin, or maybe it was in Energy, just up the road a piece. The place turned out to be something like a long and very large prefabricated garage, one of the local traditional building styles. Just inside the door stood a long glass counter filled and loaded atop with arrows, knives, fishing equipment, camouflage hats, and gloves, while on the wall behind hung an impressive array of hunting bows and even more knives, hats, hooks and whatever else one could imagine for stalking and killing wild animals. Far to one side sat the owner, a cheerful lady of middling age who was busy cleaning a rifle. A large sleepy-looking black dog lay on a couch at her side. Looking up she said, pointing to the large array of furniture spread across the building's interior, "Go ahead and look around, honey...no interest payments on everything until next year...real good prices..." Well, not this year, we said, looking at her long gun. "You interested in guns? Well, the best place is the pawn shop in Carbondale, you know, the one on Route 13. They know a lot about 'em." Thanking her kindly, and declining her sales offer, Jan and I backed out slowly and made for the car as quickly as possible. We wondered what kind of meal this lady might offer us had we asked: deep-fried squirrel or barbecued possum from the nearby woods?
I exaggerate. The regional culture of southern Illinois is much more interesting, even its cuisine. As members who attended the programs on Illinois wines remember, there is a new industry here with products are that are increasingly better in quality. As for dining, one of the best barbecue places in America, winner of the national contest, and a really interesting Creole-style are located in the area. Like fried chicken, native pecans, peaches -- locally grown and often organic produce of all kinds? Well, you'all just have to come on down for a visit. I hope that any members will take the wine and food field trip that we, with Leah Axelrod's kind help, intend to put on next autumn during the wine harvest season.
Oh yes, in between bouts of moving, Jan and I went to Turkey for a few weeks to shoot one of the documentaries on food and culture that we do for national PBS. What a great country, wonderful people and incredible food, the latter made all the better by its history. I'll report further on our adventures and hope to do a program, with food, on Turkish fare soon. In the meantime, I suggest a visit to Yasar Demir's small restaurant, Cafe Demir on Lincoln Avenue (or its new sister restaurant on North Clark Street) for some good regional fare from the Black Sea. In particular, try the pide, a kind of stuffed bread. Best in the city.
Bruce Kraig, December 2001, Carbondale, Illinois
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MARCH 31
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It is Christmas Eve. In between writing these few words, I am preparing our Christmas fowl. No, it is not a great turkey such as the chastened Scrooge bestowed on the Cratchit family, but a duck, a duck for two. For many years it was the former, a huge fresh turkey stuffed with savory goodies, surrounded by such favorites as mashed potatoes with roasted garlic (it would have been large canned peas, but the children revolted against the thought of green-flecked potatoes -- peas mushed up with the spuds) and many more carbohydrates. Not this year. Just last night my boys, who were together in Chicago, called to remind me this would be the first Christmas we have missed since 1977. The reason is, as many of you know, I have been removed to southern Illinois, at least for the present. Like Fritz, Nero Wolfe's personal chef -- not a Louis Diat, the great chef of Rex Stout's day -- but fine in his own right. I cook to order and Jan's order is fat duck. So, I have to content myself with a fresh rosemary-laced duck, roasted with the remainder of the Farmers' Market baby potatoes and elephant garlic cloves, a wild rice-basmati mixture with the last of the fresh Brussels sprouts, done with smoked meat, among other consoling dishes.
Nancy Ross Ryan
2970 N. Lake Shore Drive, #8C
Chicago, IL 60657
773-883-1575; fax 1510
e-mail, nrryan@xsite.net by the date listed.