Recently in Food Category

Yesterday's conversation with Tom Birchard of the Veselka Diner left us with a craving for pierogi. We asked him if he could spare a recipe from his new cookbook, and he happily passed it along.

Potato Pierogi

Makes 65 to 70 pierogi, 8 to 10 servings

We never paid much attention to the whole low-carb craze at Veselka. Not only is the restaurant not susceptible to fads, but eating that way would have meant giving up potato pierogi, and there's no way we could do that. Our nimble-fingered cooks make as many as 3,000 pierogi every single day. This recipe doesn't make quite that many, but it does yield a large amount. You could halve the recipe, but instead I recommend making the full amount and freezing half. Frozen pierogi can be dropped directly into boiling water for cooking; there's no thawing required. You can also refrigerate the dough for a day or two, so you can make the pierogi in a couple batches. Or you could just eat more than the seven pierogi that we consider a single serving at Veselka in one sitting--not exactly punishment.

Traveler managing editor Scott S. Stuckey is just back from a trip to Turkey, and suggests the best places to grab a bite.

Today, October 29, is Turkey's Independence Day, marking the 86th anniversary of the founding of the Turkish Republic. During my visit to Istanbul last week, in anticipation of the celebrations and fireworks to come, streets were strung with pennants depicting the crescent moon and five-pointed star of the Turkish flag and the likeness of Mustafa Kemal Atatürk. He's the still-venerated national hero who led Turkey to independence in 1923, and subsequently, into the modern world. (The pennants hung low, whacking the roof of our tour bus--thonk, thonk, thonk--as we navigated the congested streets of this city of 12 million.) October is a great month to visit Istanbul, and Turkey in general, because temperatures are mild and tourist crowds have thinned.

I was in town as part of a contingent of 62 journalists from 25 countries touring Istanbul in a trip organized by the Ministry of Culture and Tourism. The city was feverishly preparing--spiffing up museums, organizing dozens of events, spending millions of Turkish Lira--for 2010, its year in the sun as the designated European Capital of Culture, an honor bestowed on a different city annually by the European Union.

A highlight of my visit--or any visit--to Istanbul was eating, not just because of the food but also because of the glorious marine views from the restaurants. Istanbul straddles both the Bosphorus Strait, separating Europe from Asia, and the Golden Horn, a huge estuary dividing old Istanbul (Constantinople) from the modern city. Fine restaurants and tony nightclubs take full advantage of the geography, perching themselves on hillsides that slope down to water's edge or along the water's edge itself. We enjoyed the view from the tables of several high-end spots: the Suada Club Restaurant on Galatasaray Island; the Sunset Grill & Bar Restaurant in Ulus; and the Feriye Restaurant--with its views of the Ortakoy Mosque and the Bosphorus Bridge, a lovely suspension bridge lit at night with colored lights.

For more than 55 years, the Veselka Diner has been a neighborhood institution in New York's East Village, serving up its famous borscht and pierogi 24 hours a day to teenage hipsters, artists, college students, and celebrities like Chloë Sevingy, Jon Stewart, Julianne Moore and Sarah Jessica Parker. This week, the diner's owner, Tom Birchard, released The Velselka Cookbook. Birchard worked with cookbook writer Natalie Danford to adapt the huge restaurant-style portions of 120 of their famous recipes for a more moderately-sized kitchen. (What? You don't have a room for a vat full of borscht on your stovetop?) The book not only offers a glimpse into the kitchen, but provides lovely vignettes about the history of the restaurant and its role within the Little Ukraine neighborhood in New York City.

I spoke with Tom Birchard about pierogi, kitchen politics, and becoming an honorary Ukrainian.

Though you've been running the diner for 40 years, you're actually not Ukrainian. How did you integrate yourself within the community?

When my father-in-law started the diner, he was a very patriotic and it became a gathering place for fellow Ukrainians. He sold periodicals and a limited menu of Old World foods that he loved. It became a Ukrainian hub.

Back when I took over, the community was still very isolated, tight-knit and somewhat distrustful of strangers. Their culture and language was under attack back in the homeland, so I wasn't really accepted with open arms. It was an institution in the community, and this WASPy college kid was a bit of a threat to them. I didn't really understand the language and the elder ladies kind of snubbed me. But in time, the younger generation got to know me and I've been adopted as honorary Ukrainian.

Andrew Evans discovers how to bring home the ultimate souvenir from Maine.

It felt like a trick question on the SAT: You're visiting the coast of Maine and loving all the delicious fresh lobster. You decide that you want to bring some home to share with your family. Lobsters must be alive in order to be cooked safely and taste fresh. To stay alive out of water lobsters must be kept cold and wet. Your trip back home consists of a one-hour drive to the airport, a 90-minute flight to LaGuardia, a five-hour bus ride to Washington, D.C., plus all the in-between waiting time that adds up to a twelve-hour transit. What do you do?

Well, it took some phone calls and asking around, but Mainers have been smuggling lobster all over the place for years and they showed me how it's done... Find out after the jump.

One of a number of popular speakeasy-themed bars sprouting up across the nation, Chicago's The Violet Hour just may be the best. (Don't believe us? just ask these guys.) Toby Maloney--the über-bartender of New York's Milk & Honey fame--has gathered a team of fellow bartenders who see mixing as equal parts science and art.

The elegant bar hides behind an abandoned building exterior; the only piece out of place is a door handle sticking out of the wall, which, once pulled, leads to the Violet Hour's dark waiting room. On my visit, my group and I were initially disappointed at being led to bar seats--we had wanted to sit in the ultra-high-backed chairs grouped around candlelit tables, or better yet, next to the fireplace. But we immediately realized that we had been awarded the best seats in the house. The dimly lit bar gleamed with varieties of booze that I didn't recognize (a bit different from the collection at my local college-town bar). Bottles that looked like they contained potions were lined up as if to say "at your service." I found out later that these were the homemade bitters, syrups, and hand-squeezed juices used in the cocktails.

The Indian Festival of Lights, or Diwali, is tomorrow, and to celebrate, we got some cooking tips from expert Ramin Ganeshram, the author of Sweet Hands: Island Cooking from Trinidad & Tobago (Hippocrene Books, 2006; 2nd edition Spring 2010). After the jump, she shares her recipe for aloo talkari, a potato curry, and a popular flavor of the annual Diwali celebrations. Click below for the complete recipe, and learn more about Ramin by visiting her website.

National Geographic Expeditions Marketing Manager Sarah Muenzenmayer shares tips on planning a Hawaii trip that's budget-friendly and full of local color.

As avid travelers in our early 30s, my husband and I like to plan trips that will challenge us--language barriers and exploring foreign cultures are the aspects of travel we find both adventurous and memorable. But with the hubby currently in grad school, we wanted a trip that was slightly easier to plan, not to mention easy on the wallet. Drawn to Hawaii's natural beauty, we decided to skip the resorts and instead to camp along the spectacular coastline. Here are a few tips on how we kept our trip to the Big Island and Kauai challenging, and kept the total cost pretty darn low.

During my recent visit to Alaska, one of my favorite places was the Kodiak Island Brewing Company, where I had the chance to chat with owner and master brewer Ben Millstein. Ben's an exceedingly friendly guy with a big bushy beard, and he was more than willing to pull us a few samples, which drain directly from the huge vats he keeps in the back.

A home-brewer-turned-businessman, Ben created a hub for local fishermen and off-duty Coast Guard officers who work nearby, and I watched as a steady stream of them came in for an afternoon brew (one had offered to work in exchange for his beer, and was tending to the tanks between visits to the tap). His mostly-organic selection of delicious beers comes with inventive names: Liquid Sunshine, Island Mist, Stab in the Dark, and of course, the beer that made him famous in these parts, the Sarah Pale Ale.

As a souvenir, I picked up a few of the posters they created for the brew--depicting the former governor as a winking St. Pauli Girl. The irresistible tagline: "You Betcha It's Good."

Kodiak Island Brewing Company 338 Sheilkoff Ave, Kodiak, Alaska +1 907 486-ALES.

Photo: Janelle Nanos. Image, Kodiak Island Brewing Company.

Food writer and Modern Spice cookbook author Monica Bhide recently returned from visiting her family in India, and we asked her to share some glimpses of contemporary life she noticed while there. You can read her first post here.

For centuries India, particularly North India, has been a country of tea drinkers, while steaming cups of coffee were loved by the folks in South India. And then something happened. Since 2000, coffeehouses like Barista and Café Coffee Day have begun to spring up in major cities by the hundreds. They offer different types of coffees, smoothies, and snacks very much like Starbucks does. The initial reaction was interesting to watch. "The affluent young Indians will love it," the media claimed, as they noted all the youngsters gathering at the coffeehouses. There was an outcry from lovers of Indian culture and tea--it was blasphemous for them to even think that coffee culture could be percolating here in India, sacrilegious that a tea-drinking nation could love drinking coffee. Culture watchers were quick to point out that people drinking in these fancy coffeehouses weren't any better than the ones who drank tea off the street stalls.  

My view is a bit different.

Emory University senior Caitlin Etherton writes to us from Oxford, Mississippi, where she has tasted what she calls "unregrettably unhealthy food."

As a poor college student heading into the writing world after graduation, I'm always eager to explore beyond campus and find off-the-beaten-path places deeply rooted in local culture and community. And if that it happens to involve some fried catfish so good that people tailgate in the parking lot for hours just to get a table--then I'll take the extra step and the restaurant's T-shirt. In the case of the Taylor Grocery, I paid more for the T-shirt than for my meal.

Our trip began in Oxford, Mississippi, when a friend and I asked a family for directions to "That Catfish Place" we'd heard about. They gladly gave us directions to nearby Taylor, and even invited us to stay with them if it got too late to drive back to Atlanta. We thanked them for the offer and wound out of town past Ole Miss' Grove, William Faulkner's home, and the Big Truck Theater, a 200-seat barn where concerts start on the bed of a 1960 Ford truck.

Taylor Grocery was originally built around 1889 as a dry-goods store. I assume not much has changed about the storefront since then. Luckily, football season hadn't quite begun, so when we walked in there was no wait. We split a whole catfish dinner, two fish and two sides, making it completely reasonable to also order two desserts - homemade pecan pie and chocolate cobbler.

The fried catfish was crispy and perfectly seasoned. Service was fast and friendly. Live blues music bounced off walls that had been covered with signatures. Every table brimmed with families and students enjoying the sweet tea and hush puppies. When we left people were still sitting on the porch talking and drinking from Styrofoam cups (this restaurant is all about BYOB). I hope the next time I come the wait is extra long, just so I can sit on the porch myself and catch a good story or two.

Taylor Grocery, Taylor, Mississippi, +1 662 236 1716.

Photo: Caitlin Etherton

Contributing Editor Andrew Nelson is back from a visit to his former digs in West Texas, and uncovered a slate of fun new hotspots. You can follow all of Andrew's many travels on Twitter at @andrewnelson.

True to their contrarian nature, the isolated communities of Far West Texas--Marfa, Alpine, Sanderson and Marathon--seem to march in an opposite direction than the rest of the world. With parts of Texas and the Southwest crisping with drought, sweet rains have turned the Big Bend region's arroyos and mountains a rich sage. And as other places suffer a recessionary closure of myriad restaurants and galleries, the independent towns west of the Pecos are enjoying a bumper crop of new attractions and attention.

Outside magazine recently christened Alpine, the hub of the Big Bend and its biggest town, as one of the 10 best towns for outdoor sports in the nation, describing it as Austin's "mini-me." In Sanderson, local resident Terry "Tex" Tolerworks is spearheading an effort to promote an art drive along Highway 90--the lonely stretch of road that crosses the region and is filled with spectacular vistas and the occasional pronghorn or roadrunner. In Marfa, Wool and Hoop (pictured, left), a crewel embroidery store founded by artist Katherine Shaughnessy, sells pretty stitchwork while Cochineal, a restaurant started by two ex-pat New Yorkers, packs them in for dinner. Hint: If you can't get an evening reservation, breakfast beneath the trees for a lot less dosh but equally tasty fare - eggs backed in cream with bacon, spinach and fresh mixed herbs or maybe the migas with refried pinto beans and salsa. 

In Alpine, Talgar's, a restaurant specializing in Oaxacan fare makes a delectable fish tacos. Next door, the Murphy Street Raspa Company--a sweets and gifts emporium--sells hipster T-shirts, plus backcountry Mexican finds like peasant blouses for $26 and Mexican bingo cards. Be sure to sample the Mexican ices called "raspas"--try the tamarind with fresh-squeezed lime juice. (Here, owner Vic Noriega demonstrates how to make one.) Too full to waddle anywhere else? For accommodations head for the Alpine Guest Lofts. Their hip "El Concierge" service will get you almost anything: "engine parts for your Harley, or tickets to one of our off-off-off-off-off Broadway plays, or to stable your polo ponies." Relax in their soaking tubs, or lounge under the pecan tree, which provides cool shade for all.

Photo: Wool and Hoop

Traveler alumnus and Intelligent Travel blog founder Emily King is mildly obsessed with two things: San Francisco and food. Here, she shares her passions for both.

Life has pulled me to the Bay Area twice this past summer. As friends can attest, I left my heart there the first go round, and when I returned to retrieve it, it stole my stomach too. Oh, the food in San Francisco! After too many meals and too much money spent, I'm back home with an aching palate (and an unfriendly number on the scale). Should you find yourself in SF in the near future, here are my top 10 recommendations, broken down by category, after the jump. 

Thanks to all those of you who offered up suggestions for my Labor Day trip down to Charleston, South Carolina. Here are some of the highlights from my visit:

Cruising through Charleston with the dog in the front seat. That's me in the mirror, taking the picture.

There is perhaps no better way to see Charleston then from the seat of a maroon 1974 Buick LeSabre convertible. That's how I got my first glimpse of the city, thanks to my friend Abby, whose fine ride was passed down to her by her grandmother (and, thanks to the new engine she installed a few years ago, will probably outlive us all). I didn't have big plans for my Labor Day weekend, but I did manage to take some of your tips and, more importantly, relax. Because things move slower in the South, and there wouldn't really be any other way to do it.

Victoria, B.C. might be known for its gardens and English charm, but it also has a bursting foodie scene, especially when it comes to seafood. Two of my top picks are Chandlers Seafood and the Wharfside Eatery, both located just a few steps away from the inner harbor.

Wharfside Eatery's inner harbor location admittedly makes it a bit touristy, but the food is nothing but local. Try favorites like the Oysters Rockefeller (oysters sauteed with Italian bacon, garlic, and spinach), Alaskan Jumbo Scallops (wrapped in bacon with a smoky tomato cream sauce), or classics like king crab legs or citrus cilantro rubbed ahi tuna. My top picks are the calamari, hand-dipped in cracked wheat and served in an edible rice bowl, and the the smoked salmon and mango chutney wrap, served with crispy sweet potato fries (above). On a warm Victoria evening, eat outside on the dock and watch the sun set on the harbor. 1208 Wharf Street.

Chandlers Seafood is located a few blocks away from the inner harbor, making it less enticing to cruise ship tourists and more appealing to locals (who dubbed its seafood the best in Victoria). There's no outside seating at Chandlers, but the dark wood paneling and maritime decor make it feel as if you're dining with a sea captain. The seafood is fresh (as one would expect from a port town) and the chef focuses on local fare, like red Coho salmon, halibut, and Alberta steaks. If you're there for a small meal, try the seafood chowder (made with wild Spring salmon, halibut, and shellfish) or the shrimp-stuffed mushrooms--two delicious appetizers. Chandlers also serves larger "feasts for two," like the "Menu Tour" (shrimp-stuffed mushrooms, New Brunswick lobster tails, garlic prawns, wild halibut fillet, and wild Spring salmon fillet) or "King Crab Feast" (shrimp-stuffed mushrooms plus one pound of garlic king crab shanks with two fillets of wild Spring salmon), all served with Caesar salad, basmati organic rice, baked potato, and warm bread with the chef's signature olive tapenade. 1250 Wharf Street.

No matter where you eat for lunch or dinner, make sure to save room for dessert at Rogers' Chocolates. This Victoria staple (the original store has been open since 1891 and serves fine gourmet chocolates) opened an old-fashioned soda shoppe right across from the Fairmont Empress. The shoppe has marble counters, retro bar stools, a restored soda fountain, and serves ice cream (try unique flavors like raspberry, raisin rum, or ginger snap) made fresh from the Rogers' Chocolates factory in Victoria. 801 Government Street.

This summer I spent a long weekend with friends in Middle-of-Nowhere Maine, somewhere north of the Where-the-Heck-R-We Campground. (OK, so the town we stayed in wasn't called "Middle-of-Nowhere," but the campground does exist.) We had planned on eating at different places to try out the regional cuisine, and whenever we asked anyone for a good breakfast joint, the response was always: "You must try the Front Porch Cafe." Never dismissing the locals' advice on good eats, we headed to Dixfield and ate there the first morning... and every morning thereafter.

The cafe's decor screams "country kitchen," and is adorned with cutesy knick-knacks, inspirational plaques, mismatching salt-and-pepper shakers, and homemade juice served in mason jars. Owners Clint Bailey and Sammie Angel will welcome you like family and chat with you as if you've lived in Dixfield your whole life. You can sit in one of the wood tables inside or watch the world go by at a table on the enclosed front porch (the cafe's namesake), but the highlight of the Front Porch is, without a doubt, the food.

Anything you order is delicious, like the "The Bullrock" pancakes ("just like Mama use to make"), and the over-easy eggs fresh from the chicken coop, but the cafe's most famous creation is the "H. W. Park"--two huge pieces of French toast stuffed with fresh berries and cream cheese. The cafe makes other seasonal variations, like banana walnut or apple cinnamon, which melts in your mouth like warm apple pie. They're open for lunch as well (when they serve a selection of sandwiches and homemade soups), but breakfast is served all day, making it hard to resist repeating the morning's delectable temptations.

How to get there: Dixfield is about two hours north of Portland on Route 2.

Front Porch Cafe: 6 Hall Hill Rd, Dixfield, Maine, 04224. +1 207 562 4646.

Ok, so we know this headline might be cause for debate. What's your favorite Maine breakfast joint?

Photos: Jeannette Kimmel

Here at Traveler we often say the hardest part about our job is being stuck in an office while we tirelessly research exotic and exciting destinations. Instead of overdrawing on vacation days, we have to find alternative remedies to cure our wanderlust. Last week, I quelled my travel bug, and a hungry stomach, without having to purchase a plane ticket.

It was Restaurant Week in D.C., and after perusing a long list of participating restaurants I chose Belga Café, a Belgian bistro in Eastern Market. Walking through the front doors I felt transported to a modern and lively European kitchen, and with one quick glance at the menu I learned there's much more to Belgian cuisine than waffles and beer (although I sampled plenty of the latter).

Ah, autumn is here - which brings to mind changing leaves, back-to-school sales, and...crab races. Yes, crab races.

Every year on Labor Day weekend, the seaside town of Crisfield, Maryland holds its Annual Hard Crab Derby and Fair. This quaint village of 2,800 on the Chesapeake Bay has a long tradition of catching - and racing - its seafood. The festival is a celebration of the town's fishing heritage, particularly of the abundant (and delicious!) blue crabs that teem in the bay's waters.

Here, you can watch a parade on Main Street, a boat docking contest, a crab picking contest, and the crowning of the beautiful Miss Crustacean. But the main attraction of the festival is its namesake "crab derby," in which hundreds of crabs scramble down a chute to the finish line in a knock-down, drag-out race (okay, so the crabs aren't even aware of the race). The bets - and the crowd's enthusiasm - get intense. Afterward, nothing beats finishing off a fresh platter of crabs steamed with Old Bay spice while taking in views of the water at the Olde Crisfield Crab and Steakhouse. If you're hardy enough, you can top it off with a generous slice of Smith Island cake.

The best way to enjoy the festival is by renting a campsite in nearby Jane's Island State Park, which boasts 3,100 acres of Eastern Maryland's prettiest shoreline. When you need a break from the festivities, quiet kayak trails and beach walks await you in the park. So grab some friends, a tent, and a healthy appetite for crab and you've got one shell of a Labor Day weekend.  

Photo: kathyhaduch via Flickr

I'm just back from two weeks with my dad in Alaska, and suffering a bit from a cold, but otherwise overwhelmingly impressed with my time there. Here are some highlights from Homer, our first stop on the trip.

Arriving in Homer, we were picked up by the very cocky and certainly sly cabbie named Josh, who was affable enough, but seemed to second guess our being there, as we didn't plan to fish. Homer's spit is a fishing hub, and consists of a row of weathered wooden buildings that one local calls the Las Vegas of Alaska, and it's easy to imagine, if you take away all the lights, and the showmanship, and the gambling. The real thing that the spit and the strip have in common is the people, who all seem to have a bit of a weathered edge, as if they've seen things you can't imagine. The buildings all are weathered too, wooden structures where you can purchase a sweater or a ride on a half day halibut boat. The place that most evoked Vegas was the Salty Dawg Saloon, a bar who ironically does not accept members of the canine persuasion, and whose attached lighthouse signal alerts its patrons to the fact that they're still serving. Wander inside and you'll find the bar covered floor to ceiling in dollar bills, and I swear that all the fishermen were drinking screwdrivers, in what I thought was an effort to fight off scurvy. "It was probably the special," one local noted later, and she was probably right.

Instead of fishing, we decided to visit the small artist colony of Halibut Cove onboard the Danny J ferry, a boat that brought WWII soldiers to Alaska in 1941. She's a sturdy old wooden boat that stands out in the harbor amongst the sea of aluminum fishing vessels laden with nets. During the war, she served as an open skiff and could hold 75 men; afterward she was used by Halibut schooners. While waiting at the dock, I learned a few things about Homer from the museum-like placards placed along the walkway: sea otters can be up to 100 pounds, and eat up to 20 pounds a day. Nice. And there was some fascinating information about Frederica de Laguna, "a 24-year-old adventuresome archeologist [who] pieced together the sites from Kachemak Bay, and discovered that people 2,000 years ago hunted seals, porpoise, marmots, birds, and fished for halibut, built homes of wood and kept dogs, wore ornaments of wood, bone, and pierced their noses, ears and lips." She studied in Homer from 1930-1932 and was originally from Pennsylvania.

After reading an article in this weekend's New York Times about Utah's unique Pastrami Burger, National Geographic writer Catherine L. Barker blogged about her own reporting on obscure regional foods a few years ago, when she discovered such local favorites as the Kringle, a round, flaky pastry in Racine, Wisconsin, or Livermush, a North Carolina delicacy that is exactly what it sounds like. It she also learned how passionate people are about their local tastes:

Early in my reporting I realized that people become strangely emotional when they are asked about their favorite foods. It's as if Moon Pie or a conch fritter acts as the proverbial Madeleine, sparking a rush of memories--and a growling stomach. Some of my sources became defensive, some got excited; pretty much all of them were nostalgic. I spoke to one woman in Hawaii about Spam Musubi, a sort of sushi made with Spam, for at least an hour. Did you know that there's a festival dedicated to this canned pork product every year in Waikiki? That's devotion! And a bartender from Nevada was so enthusiastic about Picon Punch, he mailed me everything I needed to mix the potent drink beloved by many of the west's Basque émigrés. Some North Carolina residents waxed poetic in emails they sent me about livermush, a culinary mishmash of pig parts and cornmeal. I thought it sounded pretty revolting, and I spoke with other Southerners who agreed. From California to Connecticut, everyone I talked to had an opinion about their local food, and where to find the best of it.

Catherine is gathering more regional dishes over at NG Blog Central. Go share your favorites with her there. And check out the entire "United Tastes" series from the Times here.

Photo: A Kringle pastry, via NG Blog Central

Friend of IT Lola Akinmade loves pad thai, and gives us the lowdown on where to grab the best in Northern Virginia.

Maybe it's the final sprinkling of crushed peanuts that seals the deal or bean sprouts as the only vegetable in the mix alleviating my guilt, one thing is for sure: whatever magic portion this Thai delicacy wields, it has me completely hooked.

The beauty of living in the Washington, D.C. metro area means you're blessed with instant access to high quality and authentic cuisine from all over the globe right in your backyard. With its sinful stir-fry blend of rice noodles, chili, coriander, fish sauce, egg, and your meat of choice, Pad Thai is the most popular and instantly recognizable Thai dish worldwide. My insatiable need for Pad Thai can be broken down into three distinct scenarios.

Pad Thai for the Journey
It was fate that brought me to Neisha Thai Cuisine in Tyson's Corner. Heavily frequented by native Thai customers, a clear indication of its authenticity, I stumbled upon this gem during a shopping trip. Its location in McLean and proximity to Washington Dulles International airport meant I could indulge in one pleasure, Pad Thai, en-route to observing another pleasure of mine, travel. Now, each time I head to Dulles to catch an international flight, my excitement is two-fold. A quick stop to stock up on enough Pad Thai to last the entire journey, and the journey itself.