We have finally arrived! Yesterday, after lunch in Tuscon, we decided to push, skipping Yuma and driving all the way to Camp Pendleton. Famished, as usual, we stopped in Carlsbad and dined at Pizza Port, a great local restaurant that serves “tasty grub and grog.” Under surfboards dangling from the ceiling, we sat at wooden picnic tables surrounded by diners sporting flipflops and hoodies. While I am well equipped in the hoodie department, I definitely need a new pair of shoes.

Pizza Port brews its own beer, which a friend of mine — a San Diegoan-turned-Philadelphian — reported spotting on the Tria menu recently. Ben and I ordered a white pizza with clams and mozzarella. It took a little explaining — I’m not sure they get many requests for white pizza. Our ticket was scribbled with the instructions: “NO SAUCE!!” The beer we ordered, Carlsbad Chronic, reminded us of the Ambar Ale, which of course makes us (me) very happy. And the pizza, though not at all similar to our favorite New Haven-style thin-crust pizza was delectable!

This literally is the view from the cottage we are staying in for the next couple days. This place is unbelievably beautiful, exceeding every expectation, answering every question I had about my crazy college roommates who insisted there was no place on earth like San Diego (and San Francisco).

Some snapshots from the road:

Cafe Pasqual’s, Santa Fe, NM
As Ben and I left Boulder early this morning, I suddenly felt extremely disappointed that we didn’t make it to The Kitchen, a restaurant my mother has been telling me about for years, quite possibly her all-time favorite dining destination. And we really should have eaten there last night because the Mexican restaurant, Ephrain’s, highly recommended from a local the night before, proved to be more than disappointing. (Sorry Mama, I really should always listen to what you say.) The highlight of my dinner at Ephrain’s came early: the Pink Cadillac, a margarita served in a 16 oz. canning jar — it was awesome. The food, however, failed to differ much from Chili’s.

Anyway, we made much headway today, changing our route due to weather from I-70W to I-25S, traveling over 400 miles before lunch, which we enjoyed in Santa Fe, New Mexico at Cafe Pasqual’s, another recommendation in the Stern’s Roadfood book. As we pulled into downtown Santa Fe, snow — lucky for us — dumped from the sky, discouraging many locals to stay home and enabling us to find a table at Cafe Pasqual’s without waiting, a rare feat apparently any day of the week.

We soon learned why. These pictures don’t do the food justice — every bite was incredible. Ben ordered the carne asada, the meal arriving to each of the three business men sitting at the table next to us, a plate of grilled marinated Niman Ranch beef (hanger steak we think) with guacamole, salsa fresca, black beans and grilled sweet red peppers. And I ordered the plato primo, a plate including one chile relleno, a vegetarian tamale, cilantro rice, salsa fresca and refried beans. Stuffed with Monterey Jack cheese and onion, and lightly battered and fried, the chile relleno, we both agreed, was the highlight of our lunch spread.

Everything — the salsas, tortillas, beans, rice, masa — however, tasted fresh and delectable. So enamored by this corner cafe, we even tinkered with the idea of staying over night: check out the breakfast menu. We loved the decor and the staff too, though our waitress, as Ben says, totally “dominated” us, somehow tempting me to begin my meal with a Mimosa — organic, freshly squeezed orange juice mixed with sparkling California white wine — and finagling the two of us to share a piece of blackberry pie for dessert, neither decision we regretted ultimately. Oh, and I also walked out of there with a cookbook — Café Pasqual’s Cookbook — a purchase which actually needed zero encouragement from the staff. Filled with artwork, stories and recipes from the cafe, this book promises to provide hours of entertainment on the last leg of our trip west.

This is the plato primo: a chile relleno and a vegetarian tamale served with cilantro rice, salsa fresca and refried beans. It’s much tastier than it looks.

Snead’s Bar-B-Q, Kansas City, MO
As I write, Ben and I are sitting by the window in an adorable café, The BookEnd, in Boulder, Colorado, drinking coffee and watching the beginning of the snowstorm dump onto Pearl Street. Everything is going as planned: We arrived at my brother’s apartment yesterday before the precipitation made the roads too dangerous to travel, and for the next couple days, we will wait out the storm — expected to deliver 10 feet of snow — before getting back onto I-70 to continue our journey west.

Guided again by Jane and Michael Stern, we stopped at two places on our way to Boulder: Snead’s Bar-B-Q in Kansas City, Missouri, and Conway’s Red Top in Colorado Springs, Colorado. At Snead’s, Ben ordered a mixed platter of brisket and pork, barbecued beans and applesauce, and I ordered a pork sandwich with applesauce. The food arrived with three sauces: two bbq sauces — one spicy and smoky, the other more traditional — and ketchup, for the delectable hand-cut fries. As described, the brisket was lean and smoky, and Ben ate every last bite of it, preferring its flavor and texture to the pork, which tasted a little fatty and mushy to him. I suppose we can’t agree on everything — I loved the pork, particularly its moist texture and fatty flavor.

We loved everything about Snead’s: the smells that pervade the parking lot; the decor: deer heads line the walls and a wood-fire, stoked by our server, warms the dining area; and the food: smoky, flavorful meats and traditional bbq side dishes make for a wonderful lunch (or dinner) and an authentic experience.

Conway’s Red Top, Colorado Springs, CO
Unfortunately, we cannot give Conway’s Red Top the same praise as Snead’s. Ben likened his burger — his enormous burger (the picture doesn’t do justice to its size) — to a Burger King patty, and the soups, while although offering some healthy beans and vegetables to our thus far meat-heavy diet, had that odd, cornstarch-thickened texture. Alas, the Sterns cannot be spot on about everything.

Last night, however, guided by my brother, we enjoyed a delicious Italian dinner at Il Pastaio. Before our entreés arrtived, we sipped Chianti served in little water glasses and dipped our rolls into eggplant caponata. The Italian family that runs this trattoria makes their own pasta: noodles, ravioli and gnocchi. In a spicy, Arrabiata sauce topped with fresh basil, the gnocchi (my order) and the pappardelle (Ben’s order) made wonderful meals. Several other couples leaving the restaurant ordered pounds of the fresh pasta to take home with them — what a luxury! We split a yummy, though not-as-good-as-Isgro’s cannoli for dessert before making our way home.

I’ll have to snap a picture of Il Pastaio tonight on our way to dinner at Efrain’s, a Mexican restaurant suggested to us by a man working at the wine shop next door to Il Pastaio. Incidentally, this café, BookEnds, serves a mean bran muffin and great coffee to boot.

Shapiro’s, Indianapolis, IN
I had envisioned our journey across country much like a trip several friends of mine took to Asia this summer, a culinary adventure highlighted by a yakstravaganza — a feast featuring foods made solely from local yak. To prepare us for our road trip, a friend had given me Jane and Michael Stern’s Roadfood, a great guide to finding hundreds of the best under-the-radar eateries in cities across the country.

But after packing and repacking the car for an hour-and-a-half Sunday morning, we departed for Columbus, Ohio, feeling famished, and before we even made it around City Hall, we had stopped at Dunkin’ Donuts. Our next three stops — Quiznos, Panera, Starbucks — didn’t bode well for our anticipated culinary adventure. We left Columbus Monday morning, however, headed toward Indianapolis with a mission: Eat corned beef sandwiches from Shapiro’s, a recommendation in Roadfood. Just as described, Shapiro’s looks like a cafeteria, equipped with plastic chairs and Formica tables, and as promised, serves a corned beef sandwich “that will take you straight to deli heaven.” The rye bread and crunchy dill pickles were particularly memorable.

Tutto Pasta, Madison, WI

From Shapiro’s, we headed to Madison, Wisconsin, bypassing Chicago, fearing the madness of New Year’s Eve. Guided by my friend Tara, we reserved a room at the Best Western right by the capital building and headed down State Street for dinner. We had two places in mind, Amy’s Café and State Street Brats, but ended up at Tutto Pasta, a lively Italian trattoria. With warm rosemary focaccia, two complementary glasses of champagne, salad Helenica, chicken Marsala and a thin-crust Margarita pizza, Ben and I kicked off the New Year. After dinner, we stepped out into the -1ºF weather and proceeded to sprint to the hotel. Tara, thanks for the help — we tried to go to Mickies Dairy Bar but it was closed for the New Year … we will, however, definitely be returning to Madison!

Hell’s Kitchen, Minneapolis, MN




Mahnomin Porridge:

On Tuesday morning in a light snow fall, we left Madison and headed toward the Twin Cities. This morning, we met three of Ben’s closest high school friends at one of my all-time favorite breakfast spots, Hell’s Kitchen, in downtown Minneapolis. The virtues of Hell’s Kitchen are countless: homemade peanut butter and multi-grain bread, sausage bread (made with bison sausage, currants, pecans and coffee … yum!), huevos rancheros, and the Mahnomin porridge, which three out of the five of us ordered. On a frigid (-5ºF) winter day, nothing could be more satisfying than this porridge, a mixture of wild rice, dried blueberries, craisins, hazelnuts and heavy cream, reason enough to venture downtown for breakfast any morning. Incidentally, though the Stern couple didn’t include Hell’s Kitchen in their book, they are quoted on the Hell’s Kitchen menu, praising the homemade peanut butter as the best in the country (or something like that … I’ve forgotten the quote by this point.)

Tomorrow, to Iowa we depart, for caucus and grandparent fun! Stay tuned.

One of Ben’s friends passed along this recipe published on Kare 11.com. I’m dying to try it!
Mahnomin Porridge
Recipe From Kare 11, Minneapolis, Adapted from Hell’s Kitchen

4 cups cooked wild rice
¼ cup pure maple syrup
¼ cup dried blueberries
¼ cup craisins
½ cup roasted, cracked hazelnuts
1 cup heavy cream

In a heavy non-stick sautee pan, add the cooked wild rice, heavy cream, and maple syrup, and warm through. Add the blueberries, craisins, and hazelnuts, and stir to mix well. Serve in a bowl with sides of warm heavy cream and maple syrup.

Yay! So we just found out. Ben has been assigned to 1st Battalion, 4th Marines. We’re moving some time around the New Year to Camp Pendleton, just north of San Diego.

While there are many things I will miss about Philly — pretzels, the Fair Food Farmstand, the Tuesday South and Passyunk Farmers’ Market, Ding Ho and The Bulletin, to name a few — I am so excited to have the chance to live in California for the next three years. My sadness about leaving certainly hasn’t settled in, but I cannot wait to finally see if all of my West Coast roommates’ digs at East Coast Mexican food have been valid, and if it really doesn’t rain in their perfect state.

Oh, and check out my latest entry about Claudio’s fresh cheese on Uwishunu.