Holy Shit!

I can write whatever I want now, huh?

Guess we’re about to find out whether or not everybody does, in fact, need an editor :-D

I keed, I keed. To any of my former editors who may have subscribed, you have focused my work and saved my bacon on more occasions than I can count, and I will be forever grateful. Still, you can bet your ass I’m going to enjoy this sudden, unfettered freedom while it lasts. C’mooooon, it’ll be great! I’ll enjoy cutting loose some of the less printworthy stream-of-consciousness material and my occasional faceplants will provide you with a hearty dose of schadenfreude. See? Everybody wins.

Anyway, thanks for your interest in Something To Doux, a goofy little interim project to keep me from completely dropping off the face of the planet until I figure out what’s next. In case you hadn’t gathered by now, this will be a considerably less... *ahem*... formal endeavor than what I’ve been doing recently. I am very, very much into taking a bit of a break, and whoa buddy, that is HAPPENING. But it also occurred to me that for the past 15 years I’ve always had some kind of an outlet for food musings and I’m not entirely sure I can handle going cold turkey.

I’m not saying this newsletter is my methadone, I’m just— well, yeah, I guess that’s basically what I’m saying.

So What's Up?

For years, I’ve told people that I actually ate better before I took the dining critic’s job. The upside is you get to eat everything. The downside is you HAVE to eat everything. That means prioritizing the brand spanking new over the tried and true. So, between my newfound freedom to let my whims dictate my dinner plans and a desire to throw as much support as possible to restaurants I would really, really like to see stick around, I spent the last week carrying out from a bunch of personal favorites.

I’ll get back to exploring new options shortly, I’m sure. But in the meantime, here are a few spots I visited this week that I hope you’ll try to keep in your plans.

P.S. I know I said in the autoreply email when you signed up that this is a decidedly low-tech affair, but damned if there aren’t sites around these days that make maintaining a newsletter mailing list so easy! All of which is to say that you can still respond and get a normal human being (read: me) on the other end. But it also means that there’s a fancypants unsubscribe link at the bottom in case I’ve managed to scare you off already. Of course, you’ll have to scroll past some pretty pictures to get there, so I figure I have a 50/50 shot at winning you back by then.

Fingers crossed.

Speaking of Tried and True...

In the course of my duties the last few weeks, I had occasion to sample some new-ish Peruvian, and it only served to remind me of just how much Oscar Graham’s work stands out in this town.

If you haven’t yet visited Los Andes Peruvian Cuisine, you really should. We’ve stopped by twice in the past month for epic family feasts. Easy online ordering, quick curbside pickup and everything travels extremely well.

I want to cry every time I see somebody buying a grocery store rotisserie chicken. I know, everybody’s busy, we all do what we have to do sometimes. But from a culinary standpoint there is NO REASON to choose a grocery store bird over Graham’s pollo a la brasa. They’re soulmates of sorts — that super soft, tender, juicy rotisserie meat. But a grocery store chicken (yes, even that one) is amateur hour compared to this, and honestly, the pollo a la brasa should be insulted by the comparison.

Oh man, the lacquer on this bird. I’m not even going to try to deconstruct it, but the stuff is magical — sweet with a complex blend of herbs, especially good when dipped in Graham’s killer chile sauces. There are a bunch of options for sides, but the white beans are the pro pick here. They’re full-on luxe, luscious and creamy, sometimes with a little bacon tucked in.

I’m shocked by how well the ceviche travels. It’s nearly half an hour’s drive from Los Andes to my house, and Graham’s orgia de mariscos (yes, that means what you think it means) doesn’t seem to suffer one bit. Perfect balance on this mixed seafood ceviche, punched up with a little pisco bite.

I’ve barely gotten a taste of the seco de res — a cilantro-laced beef stew — because the rest of the family fights over it. And that’s just as well because it keeps them away from the aji de gallina, which is one of my old favorites. This is comfort food — chicken and potatoes drowning in a thick, creamy sauce of ground nuts and melted parmesan cheese, stained bright yellow with a touch of aji amarillo.

I could do this for another 2000 words, but suffice it to say that if it’s dropped off or if it was never there, Los Andes really should be on your radar.

Scott Holmes' Continuing Bid to Take Over the World

BBQ King of Phoenix just wasn’t good enough for you, was it, Scott?

Breaking the spirits of all the other pitmasters in town with your impossible standards left you so unsatisfied that you decided you had to sow heartache and despair among the Valley’s burro shacks too?

Great Burgers That You Can't Have

This is a little mean, but I’m going to do it anyway.

Concerning coverage of pop-ups and one-off events, I’ve always tried to avoid putting time into writing about things that people can no longer eat. It just felt rude somehow to say that I just had this absolutely spectacular meal and oh, hey, by the way, you missed it, so sorry, bummer, sad trombone.

But just in case Chrysa Robertson brings back Rancho Pinot's burger night at some point, now you can’t say nobody told you.

This past Wednesday night was, sadly, the last burger night for the foreseeable future. And I feel a little silly making a big deal out of this when you have the rest of Chrysa’s menu available. Still, this is a damn good burger.

A chuck and brisket blend, it’s grilled over mesquite and tucked into a toasty crisp English muffin along with cheddar, lettuce, tomato, pickles and some “mustardy caramelized onions.” It is very juicy, very unfussy and very, very good.

I’m also digging on the garlicky aioli... wooooooo, that’s got some Gallic punch. Great on the burger or as a dip for some rosemary-scented roasted potatoes.

Don’t care if it’s basic, I’m pairing this puppy with a wedge. Three cheers for the unashamed pungency of Point Reyes, some bacon, tomato, egg and a little garnish adorning a chunk of iceberg whose time, rightly so, seems to have finally come back around.

Needless to say, the regular menu remains the draw. But this was a lovely little short-lived diversion. Keep an eye out in case she brings it back.

I Know, I Know, I Know

Local, yes, independent, yes. This is the mantra, it is one I believe, and I believe is no less than I did a week ago.

But if I’m being honest, I freaking love Bonchon, and I’d really like them to stick around, too.

Most of the menu at the international Korean megachain is garbage. Well... okay, that’s overstating things. Most of the menu is pointless. I dig the smoky tartness of the bacon and kimchi fried rice, the red hot buldak brings some formidable firepower and the fries are good as battered fries go.

But those aside, they could wipe out the entire menu as long as they keep the fried chicken.

Some pro tips for the uninitiated:

• Boneless is bullshit. Wings and legs are where it’s at.
• Garlic soy? Spicy?....... Why choose? The only dud was the “Sweet Crunch” sauce, and it appears that flat and cloying misfire was recently the beneficiary of a well-deserved mercy killing. So split your order between the two classics.
• Coleslaw is fine, but the pickly-sweet cubes of crunchy daikon are way better.
• The moment you get your chicken, make sure it is ventilated. It doesn’t have to be hot to be good (in fact it’s great straight out of the fridge), but steam will kill its awesomeness in a matter of moments.

I don’t know how they do it. The crust is just outstanding. Legs are lovely, but I’m a wing guy at Bonchon, if for no other reason than the skin-to-meat ratio. The texture is incredible. Ice cold, straight out of the fridge, two days post-pickup, this chicken has more crunch than most fried chicken around town. Not that that’s the be-all end-all. There are all kinds of styles. But this one lives by that killer crisp, gently basted with a little sweet soy or a touch of gochujang fire.

Just Make the Damn Call!

Before I sign off, please consider this friendly reminder to fire off an email or make a quick call to your representatives at the national level and push them to make the Restaurants Act happen.

I know it’s possible to look around and think to yourself, “Gosh, self, the number of restaurants that have had to close because of COVID is really sad, but it doesn’t seem like the numbers have been THAT bad.” And self, I couldn’t fault you for having that impression. But if so, it’s only because you’re blissfully unaware of just how many places are barely hanging on by their fingernails and peering over their shoulder deep into the abyss. Talking to folks around the industry right now isn’t depressing. It’s *terrifying*. For a lot of places, the doors might still be open, but it’s already too late. And we’re sitting on the edge of a tipping point that I don’t think most people can fathom.