Stick a Fork in it...

...this column's done.

My Trader Joe's column is now online, and you can check out my take on the store with the Joefficial Forkster review.

If you do go to the 3-week-old Chapel Hill store, save some Mango Passion Granola for me!

Stick a Fork in It...

..this column's done. I had fun experimenting with ice cream sandwiches, but all good things...have a deadline.

My ice cream sandwich column is in Wednesday's Chapel Hill News. You non-townies can read the column online.

Happy sandwiching!

Stick a Fork in it...

...this column's done.

"Putting the 'Pop' in Popcorn," ran in today's Chapel Hill News. Thanks to Al Gore, you can read it online, in all its glory.

One quick note from the Department of Irony: After two weeks of popcorn pondering and experimenting, I watched a movie tonight. What was my accompanying snack this evening? Ice cream.

Finally, while a niece and a nephew got shout outs in the column, I'd be remiss if I didn't say that their sister Darcy was instrumental in the tasting of many varieties of popcorn.

OK, happy popping!

Stick a Fork in it...

...this column's done.

Those of you in this rhubarb poor region of Chapel Hill can read it in today's Chapel Hill News. Everyone else will have to rely on this rickety link.

For those arriving here after reading the column, sit anywhere you'd like and make yourself at home. You'll find previous columns on the right and please help yourself to a comment once in a while.

As for me, I'm off for a celebratory Rhubarb Lime Rickey. After all, someone's gotta finish the bowl.

Stick a Fork in it...

...this column's done.

Thanks to the wonders of the Interweb, you can read my BLT column here. If you've already done so, please take a look around the site. Kick off your shoes, make yourself at home.

If you'd like to be on the mailing list for new column alerts, e-mail me at the address on the bottom of the sidebar.

Alrighty, I'm off to go get a celebratory BLT. That's right, a plain old BLT. Imagine that...

Stick a Fork in it...

...this column's done. If you haven't seen it already, here is the online version. If you'd like to get on the mailing list for new column alerts, e-mail me at the address found somewhere on this site. (Hint: it's on the bottom right).

If you've already read the column, take a look around and make yourself comfortable. You don't even have to take off your shoes.

As for me, I was about to write that I'm all mixed-out. But, I'm not sure that's even possible. Instead, I'll say: Happy Mixing!

Stick a Fork in it...

...this column's done.

The February Fork & Spoon is out today, so you can now read about my adventures playing Musical Meats.

In the column, I wrote about changing meats (like the bison pictured here) in traditional dishes. While it was fun thinking up recipes to tinker with, it's hard to stop. Seems like I'm not the only one doing so--I just read about what a local Iron Chef winner is doing with Ostrich meat.

Anyway, it'll be fun to get back to making lasagna without wondering what it would taste like with smoked chicken. That should last a day or two...

Stick a Fork in it...

...this column's done.

The January Fork & Spoon is out today, so you can read my New Year's food-related resolutions in all their glory.

Originally subtitled "From Cookies to Cacti," I think I can safely say it's anything but ordinary. Whether I stick to all of the resolutions...that's another story. But as you'll see, my goals aren't all that taxing. Some would call them fun.

Here's to a happy, healthy, hungry 2007!

Cute Fruit

Note: This column appeared in The Chapel Hill News and is reproduced here for blog readers because the newspaper does not maintain its links.

As someone who spends an inordinate amount of time in supermarkets -- I'm the guy squeezing for the softest loaf of bread -- I tend to notice changes in the store. Some are subtle, and others are less so.

Well, folks, today's produce section is all out of whack. It's disorienting. There are watermelon-sized apples and apple-sized watermelons. You've got tomatoes modeled after a plethora of fruits -- cherry, grape and strawberry. And then there are the Lucky Charms-like varieties: purple peppers, yellow kiwifruit and orange cauliflower.

Size wise, bananas seem to be approaching wiffleball bat length, while it's hard to find carrots that haven't been shaved down to an unnatural infancy. Walking through the aisles, I alternate between feeling like the Incredible Shrinking Woman and the Jolly Green Giant.

The latter feeling is more common. Among the packaged greens alone, there's baby spinach, baby arugula and baby lettuce. I'm not sure whether to make a salad or warm up a bottle.

Some of these cute fruits occur naturally, but others, like the aforementioned baby carrots, are created. To help you wade through this new era of produce, I thought I'd try three kinds of mini fruit.

These crops aren't new to the world, just to my world. All the items were purchased at Harris Teeter, but they're not exclusive to that chain. And now, on to the fruit:

Mini Bananas ($1.49 for a 12 oz. bag)

Sold as Chiquita Minis, they're also known as finger or lady finger bananas. They do look kind of finger-like, which, to me, isn't all that appetizing. The fruit companies have only themselves to blame for this marketing mishap, though. Dole's web site writes that baby bananas "resemble the hands of small children -- plump and short." Mmm, who's hungry?

If you can get past the image of eating a finger, these bitsy bananas are great. They're noticeably sweeter than regular ones. For that reason, they play nicely with yogurt or on their own as an after dinner snack. I found mini bananas a bit too sugary for cereal, although that may owe more to my choice of Grape-Nuts. They were a little better with a non-cardboard-based cereal.

Surprisingly, these pony bananas seemed to last longer than regular-sized ones. That bodes well, considering they're sold as large bunches wrapped in a bag. Oddly, they peel from the bottom, which only compounds the strange sight of a banana that fits in your palm. On the plus side, you can get in touch with your gorilla side.

Once you get past the weirdness of four-bite bananas, there are real advantages to their compactness. They're handy when feeding kids. And for bigger kids, it's nice to open a banana without biting off more than you want to chew.

The Verdict: Cute Fruit.


Munchkins Grapes ($3.99 for a 1 lb. box)

Officially, this minute fruit goes by either Black Corinth or Zante Currant grapes. In marketing terms, they are Champagne Grapes -- which I think is pushing it -- or Munchkins. As anyone who's ever been to a Dunkin' Donuts can attest, Munchkins are donut holes, not a miniature fruit. And these tiny grapes are no match for those glazed and jelly-filled globes. Then again, what is?

These mini grapes look like rounder, unwrinkled raisins, which, given their relationship, makes sense. Less sensible is just how small they are. At maybe a quarter the size of a regular red grape, they're a bit of a novelty act. Each tiny grape is like a mini M&M -- just small enough that you can't really get the full flavor.

Fortunately, it is a flavor worth finding. Munchkins definitely taste different than red or green table grapes. They're a little sharper, and they're tarter. But, thankfully, they have nothing to do with tartar sauce.

Even cooler, there's a fun way to access that flavor. You can -- brace yourselves -- chomp into a bunch of mini grapes and eat the stems. Now I have been known to enjoy unpeeled kiwis and peanuts in their shell, but this one's legit. The stems are fully edible and barely noticeable, setting up the grape sellers' slogan, "You can eat a whole bunch!"

That said, I don't subscribe to their other motto, "Little grapes...big fun." While they're neat the first time, I can't see buying them again. My life's OK with normal sized grapes.

The Verdict: Too Cute Fruit.


South African Baby Pineapple ($2.99 each)

The cutest of all three cute fruit, these minis are also known as Queen Victoria pineapples. About the size of a baseball, they certainly can't be called Queen Latifah pineapples.

By any name, this fruit's minuteness is an improvement. These more personal pineapples are perfect for one or two people. While it's strange to think of a pineapple as an individual serving, it is unquestionably so. It's as if someone removed the pine and left the apple.

Despite their lunch box size, puny pineapples aren't brown bag friendly because they still have that characteristic tough outer layer. On the plus side, you don't have to core them.

Inside that reptilian skin, these pint-sized pineapples taste about the same as the originals. That's no knock, as I'd place pineapples near the top of the fruit pile. There's a reason they have crowns.

With their indistinguishable taste, the main benefit of these petite pineapples is their puniness. But as I've learned, size is important.

The Verdict: Cute Fruit

Frozen Frenzy

Note: This column appeared in The Chapel Hill News and is reproduced here for blog readers because the newspaper does not maintain its links.

On a recent trip to Washington, D.C., the Spoonstress and I made a seasonally appropriate detour to our favorite snow cone vendor. On a 98-degree day, we plunked down $6 for two cones of sugary-ice. They almost cooled us down.

In writing about the summer, it’s hard not to sound like an air-conditioning salesman. Such words as “sweltering” and “oppressive” hop onto the page. But my definition of summer heat is when you’re sitting in the shade, having a snow cone and you’re still sweating.

Sometimes you’re just gonna be hot. It is summertime, after all. But that doesn’t mean we can’t try to stay cool. And there isn’t a more energy-efficient way to do that than having a Popsicle.

Normally, that craving will put you at the mercy of your grocer’s freezer case. While you can do OK at some stores — Food Lion’s banana pops pack a punch of flavor —most of the offerings aren’t too exciting. (Note to local grocers — whither the Toasted Almond bar?)

To break free from the red, orange and purple doldrums, you have to head to Durham’s Loco Pops. There, a multi-flavored, arctic-like oasis awaits. As store owner and treat maker Summer Bicknell puts it, a pop “is, for me, a 10-minute trip to somewhere colder.”

While talking pops with Bicknell, I managed to sample some of her handiwork, including an amazing pineapple basil variety. I had planned to end my chat with Bicknell by pleading with her to open a Chapel Hill location. To my surprise, I didn’t have to beg.

“We’re looking at that — maybe next year,” Bicknell said. “We need to expand because our location is too small and Chapel Hill is high on the list.”

There you have it, Fork & Spoon’s first foray into breaking news. Now don’t get too excited, there was a “maybe” in her first sentence. But it’s encouraging nonetheless.

In the meantime, you’ll have to either hoof it to Durham or make your own. To that end, Bicknell gave me one recipe from her arsenal: Rosemary Lemon pops.

After being pleasantly surprised by Bicknell’s pineapple basil pop, I was OK with the idea of using rosemary. Then I saw how much it called for — 3/4 cup — and was a bit anxious things would get too savory. The cup of sugar soothed my nerves.

Now I should admit that I employed some creative rosemary harvesting. I would elaborate, but my lawyer advised against it. Let’s just say that if you looked for it, there would be plenty around to be liberated. Between the free rosemary and the other three ingredients — lemons, water and sugar — these pops are probably cheaper than the gallon of gas it’d take to get to Loco Pops.

Bear in mind that making these pops is a two-day process, because you need to refrigerate the rosemary syrup overnight and the treats need time to freeze. But before you put the paper down, it is an easy two-day recipe, if that helps. There’s really no need to chop up the rosemary, as it’s all getting strained out anyway. And dissolving sugar in water is about as painless as it gets.

You’ll need some sort of mold, although an ice cube tray could be pressed into service in desperation. The Spoonstress and I have two varieties, the far better being the inexpensive Kerr Drug models with a bottom cup and built-in straw that allows you to suck out the melted juice. I’m not sure whether the straw molds signal the pinnacle or the decline of our civilization, but I can see them baffling future archaeologists.

But let’s get back to those molds’ contents. When I made the rosemary-sugar mixture, I was sure there’d be too much of the herb. Then I tasted the finished product and had a hard time remembering another ingredient besides lemon. Never again will I underestimated the power of citrus.

A word of warning: That first lick can be a bit jarring. You may not want to operate heavy machinery when that happens.

“It sure wakes up your mouth,” the Spoonstress noted.

After a few tastes, though, your tongue gets acclimated to the tartness and the greener notes make themselves heard.

Of course, I suspect that strength of citrus had something to do with the fact that I hand-squeezed real lemons. After having done so, I heard back from Bicknell that while she usually uses fresh fruit, she employs reconcentrated lemon juice for this one. Given that, I’ll understand if you don’t feel like juicing 10 lemons. But I’ll be a little disappointed.

As for experimenting with flavors, which I highly encourage, Bicknell has two bits of advice. To make a simple solution to which you’d add fruit juice, heat equal parts sugar and water. There’s no such thing as too much creativity, unless it involves seafood.

On a sweeter note, Bicknell advises, “Whenever you freeze something, it loses some flavor. If a batch tastes perfect, add some more sugar.”

It is summer, after all.


Rosemary Lemon pops

1 cup sugar
1 1/2 cup water
3/4 cup fresh rosemary
1-1/3 cup lemon juice )using reconcentrated lemon juice will emphasize the rosemary)
Place chopped rosemary into a lidded, nonreactive container large enough to hold 4 cups of liquid. Add sugar to water over high heat. Stir until sugar dissolves. Bring to a boil and pour over rosemary. Cover and let cool to room temperature. Refrigerate overnight and then strain out rosemary. Add lemon juice. Pour into molds and freeze for eight hours. Makes about 8 pops.