First Annual Chicago Alefest

I'm very lucky to have several wonderful girlfriends who are committed to an approximately tri-annual "Girl's Night." However, a few weeks ago, I was feeling so stressed out and worried over school, that I really didn't want my mood to ruin an otherwise wonderful evening. In addition, I had pushed my husband about to his limits for dealing with a worried wife (not that he ever complained.) I felt a strong urge to bond with my boy on a night otherwise reserved for chicks, and I did so. We decided to go and have some fun, just the two of us, and I have no regrets.

Especially since we went to the First Annual Chicago Alefest at the Arlington Park Racetrack. Proceeds went to the Lupus Foundation of America, and boy, did I forget my troubles for the day!

Chris and I really LOVE craft or microbrewed beer -- the darker and more distinctive, the better. So we were really excited, and he had only come up with the idea on the spot that morning. Chris is full of good ideas. The event was in the afternoon, so we could spend a quiet evening in -- perfect!

When you walk in, they give you six tickets for $15, (one ticket = one beer), a raffle ticket, and a booklet on all of the beers that are available. Oh, and a nicely sized "taster" glass to fill with lovely, lovely beer.



I think most of these breweries know who their nerdy audience is. We were first sidelined to Eurobrew's Legendary Alehouse, who names their brews things like "Wychwood Hobgoblin," "Witchcraft," and "Black Sheep Holy Grail." I asked for the darkest brew, and got the "Kaiser Xingu Black Lager." It was smooth and mild and I was already happy. Chris had the nuttier, sharper-tasting "Wychwood," and we both liked that as well. And I totally know what I'm taking to the next Warren BBQ held annually on Bilbo Baggins' birthday. (Yes, they really do that.)





Next table we decided to spend tickets on was a brewery with its home in Quebec, the Unibroue (yoo-nee-broo). Once again, I was particularly attracted to the labeling and marketing (with all the beers there, you really have to like the marketing or the name to be able to decide what to get. Like picking a horse at the same location). Our friend Cam had recommended the "Trois Pistoles" at one time, and I got that. I absolutely loved it. It may have been my favorite of them all. It was a really dark beer, but had a sweet, sort of hefeweizen-y taste (which I love). Chris tried the "Maudite," which was very sharp in taste, and we liked that, too.

Next, we arrived a couple tables down at New Holland Brewing. I was torn between "the Poet" oatmeal stout, and the one I ended up trying, "Dragon's Milk Ale" (such a sucker for the name). It was not bad... sort of a flatter, chocolatey taste (and believe me, I only remember such specifics because I was writing these things down.) Chris had the "Zoomer," and I won't forget that one. I absolutely HATED IT. I have almost never meet a beer I don't like (although I'll avoid "Keystone Light" if I can help it), and I almost did a super-dramatic spit-take on the "Zoomer." My notes on the brew simply read, "More like 'Tumor."

In the state we got into, and with the vast selection available, it was difficult to choose. We resolved not to have anything we knew we loved, like Young's Double Chocolate Stout, anything from the RAM brewery, or our beloved Delirium Tremens. Just new stuff. You can buy extra tickets for not too much, but since we didn't have a designated driver, we stuck to our original tickets. And began to pace ourselves a little more. Most of these brews are up to 9% alcohol... So there were a couple we didn't get to try, like "Curve Ball," and the "White Water Wit" that Chris nearly chose in honor of his raft-loving brother.



We tried some Indiana brews: "Robert the Bruce" (very nice, snappy and smooth at once) and "Alpha King" (bright citrus flavor) from Three Floyds Brewing. Others we tried included a "Franziskaner Hefe Weiss," from Spaten in Munich, which was a really good, but not terribly unique hefeweizen beer, and "Old Scratch" from the Flying Dog Brewery, which was a good amber ale, but I was forgetting to record what we thought of things by that time. I was laughing too much. And Chris tells me he can't remember it at all. (Can't have been too bad.) We also enjoyed Mickey Finn's (of Libertyville) "Replicale," which had that nice sharp orange-peel flavor, and a nice, mild "Dunkelweizen" from Flatlander's Brewery in Lincolnshire. And since the gentleman from one of those places was nice enough to let me keep a ticket, I got to try my second favorite: Dogfish Head Brewery's "Raison D'Etre." Chris and I sharply disagreed on this one -- he did not like it, but I thought it was great. It was really strong, and you had to sip it for sure. But it has a raisiny, carmel taste that I thought was really different. I dug it.



Anyway, by this time everything had gone to our heads, and we had to sit on the steps for awhile before departing. We were giggly and having a blast. I would definitely hype this event to ANYONE who loves beer, beyond the world of Bud Light. I called my brother from the event so that he could locate, via Yahoo!, a German restaurant for us to go to afterwards (I'll post on that place next), and I remember telling him that I was going to plan all my future pregnancies around this event. And I still mean that.

"Let's Get Some F*%kin' French Toast..."

A little more than a year ago, Chris asked for my instruction on how to prepare French Toast. He became quite frustrated during the process, as he usually does whenever he performs something for the very first time, and afterwards no one solemnly presents him with an embossed certificate proclaiming him the "Ultimate Maestro" of whatever that new thing is. We have that in common, actually. It will be very sad for everyone to see us pass this trait onto all of our future children -- a gaggle of neurotic kids that feel completely worthless if they can't do something perfectly the first time, at the age of three.

Anyway, I think he's ready for his certificate. He's better at this particular dish than I am. And believe it or not, I'm totally okay with that.

Turkey Bacon Bread

This past year, at some point, I saw Paula Deen bake off some breadsticks with bacon wrapped around them. I wondered if I could recreate the dish with light breadstick dough and turkey bacon. They came out very nicely (not to spoil the ending).



I took refrigerated breadstick dough, twisted them, sprinkled them with parmesan cheese shreds, and baked them off halfway (just until they were a semi-solid object that I could wrap the bacon around.) Then I wrapped them with turkey bacon so that the ends were tucked underneath, and put them in for another ten minutes or so (or just over half the time remaining.)

We ate them with a salad, with my beloved goat cheese and some veggies.



Chris really enjoyed these, and they reheated very nicely out of the fridge. I think he just used the microwave, but I'm not sure. I just know that for a few days I would see him walking around the house, happily snacking on a bacon stick at any time at random.

Here's one last and slightly disturbing shot, with Chris looking a bit like a Shel Silverstein illustration, ominously moving in on some unsuspecting breadsticks...

BBQ Crockpot Chicken

I've mentioned making BBQ chicken in the crockpot before, when I talked about BBQ chicken and goat cheese pizza. But I've tweaked my formula a little bit, and I thought it might be worth mentioning. Put the following mess into a crockpot, and while you might not believe me to look at it beforehand, this actually comes out as BBQ!



About four breasts of chicken, raw or even frozen
two cups of catsup, or ketchup if ya nasty
one cup of mustard, any kind
one capful of liquid smoke
about a half cup or more of molasses
one cup of brown sugar
as much Red Hot sauce as you think you'll like
a "couple, two-tree" shots of bourbon
half a medium onion, diced finely
two cloves diced garlic
a shake of cumin and a sprinkle of coriander
salt and pepper

Cook that on low for four to six hours, depending on whether the chicken is frozen or not. Go past the stage where it is cooked and will shred, on to the stage where those proteins break and it shreds easily. Shred it all right in the pot with two forks.

The recipe has a high sugar content, as all BBQ sauce does, but no fat. Here I put it on a toasted roll with my beloved banana peppers, and of course, goat cheese. Because if food could have love affairs, goat cheese and BBQ sauce would totally make out like Bogie and Bacall.

X-Rated Bachelorette Bread

I have thought long and hard about posting this, and believe me, that's only the first of several dirty pun opportunities that I'm probably going to fall into during the course of this post without even knowing. But I mean, there are some lovely people reading this blog now, including someone's grandmother, for crying out loud. But I still "gotta be me, what else can I be?" Call it artistic integrity, if you're inclined to be optimistic about my character. Or if not, blame the fact that too many of my formative years were spent in an all-male household, and as we all know, men are dirty, dirty pigs. Right? Okay, we'll blame them.

So while warning you that this post is not for the faint-hearted, or those with delicate (or even normal) sensibilities, I give you without further ado... Cheezy Olive Penis Bread. Now famous amongst about ten of my closest friends, whom I have personally horrified with its presentation.



Why, oh why, you are asking, would I do something like this? Well, two things brought about my horrific creation. Long ago, I made some pepperoni rolls, in an attempt to recreate the ones that are sold by Gumby's Pizza in Champaign, IL. And I was pretty successful. It was photographed, of course.



I used refrigerated light breadstick dough or pizza dough, and turkey pepperoni (low in fat). I wrapped the dough around a stick of light string cheese and the pepperoni, and brushed them with a little light butter when they came out. Then we dipped them in light ranch dressing. (I think all that light stuff adds up, so they weren't very fatty at all.) They were delicious, but Chris and I couldn't help but notice that they had a slightly, ah, rude shape that made us snicker. A "two-headed" appearance, if you will.

The next fateful event was the engagement of my delightful friend, Jenny. We had a bachelorette gathering in her honor, to which she specified, "absolutely no penises, please." She was more referring to something large or inflatable that she would be forced to wear/carry/take photos with as we went out later on... But my first reaction, of course, was to make it a most penisful evening, indeed. She's a nice person, and she doesn't deserve to be treated that way. Serves her right for having me in her life.

I went to the naughty store, and I thought about purchasing the penis cake pan. But, how typical is that? My friend deserved better. Something crafted by my own loving hands. Aha, I remembered! The pepperoni rolls! All I needed to do was alter the, ah, base. Oh, I'm not gonna dance around it, if you've read this far, you can take it. I needed a nutsack. So I purchased some gourmet jalepeno-cheese stuffed olives, and some black olives (because I didn't know which size would look better.) Let the experimentation begin!

I told Chris when I got back from the store that I was going to bake a batch of bread in the shape of penises. "Okay," he said, shrugging. "I'll take the pictures for you."



I figured out early on that I couldn't incorporate the pepperoni, or any pasta sauce (I had thought at first to make them pizza-style). There just wasn't room in there. Plus, the red pizza sauce sort of took it from "stag film" to "snuff film." I didn't want to go there, quite. (I wanted to be Rip Taylor, not Lorena Bobbitt). I also realized that simply pinching the dough together wouldn't keep it from bursting open (I know, I know) so I started using toothpicks, weaving them into a seam. I only had colored toothpicks -- yellow (I know, I know).



I placed the olives and the cheese, well, you know. Then I wove one toothpick through the top, making the unspeakable vein shape. Hang in there. Then I folded the top over, and pinned it with one more toothpick at the back, forming, um, the little hole. Sorry, everyone, so sorry. We're almost there.

Some of them still opened a little in the oven, but overall, they came out ("It's Raining Men" starts playing at those words) pretty well. I brought some marinara sauce and um, ranch for dipping with me to the party. (I know, I know).

I walked into a room full of still-sober ladies who asked me, "What did you bring, Gina?" "Penis bread," I announced. There was not one snicker of laughter. Nothing. I could actually hear the crickets chirping. Then someone, Ann I think, said, "Well, let me try one!" Ann is a fairly picky eater, and for being the first brave soul to try my creation, she promptly bit into the one toothpick I had been unsuccessful in finding. Yeah, watch out for that. And she doesn't even like olives.

"Oh dang," I thought. Failure! I thought. But slowly, with some drinks and growing hunger, every lady tried a uh, member of her own. Everyone talked about how delicious they were. I was like, yeah, great, but don't you think it's funny? Sure, sure, they said. Give me another one, they said, I'm starving.

I realized as the party went on that I had gotten so caught up in my project that I hadn't gotten Jenny a rude gift, as everyone else had done. Ann said, "Gina... Did you, or did you not fashion bread into the shape of a penis?" Yes, Ann. Yes I did.



When my friends bring this up, they still say "those were so tasty! Make those again!" And I'm okay with that. The novelty factor still makes me chuckle, personally, but in the end (if you spotted that one, you really do have a dirty mind) I'd rather people thought my food was tasty than anything else. Shape doesn't really matter.

Hackney's Restaurant

Chris and I have been trying to try Hackney's for quite awhile... We went on the Saturday after Valentine's Day, but the line was too long (no, we aren't bright enough to make reservations for Valentine's Day weekend, and yes, we did end up at Burger King). We went one Saturday in the late morning, but they weren't open yet. But one fine day, our timing was perfect, and we went for lunch.

The menu is really simple. Just a few favorites and traditional American fare. I wanted to get a burger, because we read that they had been voted amongst the best burgers in America by the Food Network. I decided on the buffalo burger. You can pick your bread -- I went with what David calls an "eggy wegg" -- an egg bun. You have to pay for certain extras, unfortunately... Sauteed mushrooms, grilled onions, avocado, swiss cheese all cost up to a dollar each. I ended up getting what amounted to a twelve dollar burger, which reminded me of that commercial where a restaurant gets its Miller High Life priveledges revoked.

But after I got the burger, you know what? I would have paid twenty. Don't tell Hackney's.



The meat was lean, but not dry. I have to say this was maybe the best burger I'd ever had. I even liked the cole slaw, which I rarely do. I like the finely chopped, cold sweet and pale variety, and that's what I got (okay, so I'm no common-sewer)... I got it with cottage cheese instead of fries, because I don't like to waste a million calories on french fries when all I really want is that burger.

Chris got the turkey burger, but he liked mine a lot better. (So here's mine again).



What's more, I just loved this place. I loved the dark, cigar-stained, woody atmosphere, the placemats and the water glasses, and the old junk on the walls (real junk, like paint-by-numbers pictures and obscure trophies, all gathering a good deal of dust). It felt like the type of place that your fedora-wearing uncle would get you into with a secret handshake.

I'm going to go back, and try some other things on the menu. Gonna be tough not to get that same burger, though. Sucks to get it perfectly right the first time!

Baby Teeth

Okay. Not a baker. We've been over that.

So when I was arranging a surprise shower for my friend Jen M. at school, I had this idea to bake cookies in the shape of teeth and brushes with cutters that I got at RDH Novelties and Gifts, use them for favors, and put a little card on each bag that said "A New Set of Baby Teeth!" But I don't even like making the sugar cookie dough from a box mix, let alone from scratch (and let's face it, I'm not very good at it either way, see "Christmas Cookies in L.A.") so I went to the store in search of the pre-made kind that comes in a tube. See, I'm more interested in the crafty aspects of cookie making... the decorating. But lo, when I arrived at the store, I saw that Pilsbury has at last produced cookie dough already made, and already flattened into sheets of the perfect thickness. They seem to be a seasonal item, just for Easter, I think. Just another reason why it is so, so great that Jesus rose from the dead. Let's just say I felt saved... for a second time. Oh, and they were on sale!

I knew I had to make enough cookies for 40 people, so that meant 40 toothbrushes, and 80-100 teeth (I put two in each bag.) And, oh, have you seen the size of my kitchen?



I turned the little space into a busy little factory. But, you're thinking, I took a shortcut. It should have been easy, right? Well, yes. But a bit time consuming. The little pieces on the molars took some finesse.



I had to figure out, also, how to elevate the cookies a bit, or at least place them on something that I didn't have to bake them on... Because I knew there would be run-off from the icing. I also didn't use the icing that came with the cookies, because I wanted it to harden nicely. So I used powdered sugar and a little milk.



The necessity of all the types of surfaces I would need was almost too much for the little alley kitchen I've got. The cookie dough, however, came with little cardboard trays and wax paper, so I transferred them to those for frosting. (I only have one cookie rack that we registered for, for crying out loud).



I mixed blue food coloring with the frosting for the toothbrushes. Jen was having a boy (she has now had the boy, Brandon, and I already love the boy), so I wanted a nice soft blue. For all this, I used a cake/pastry decorating kit I'd gotten at Jewel some time ago... But I think trimming the corner off of a plastic bag would have worked just fine.



It was a gluey, mortar-like mess by the end. The frosting hardens on your hands, the bowl, the spatula... And I wasn't sure if the blue was going to come off of everything. (I mean, the blue! My god, the blue!) But it all came out with machine-like precision (thank you again, my Lord and Savior). And Chris very much enjoyed eating my mistakes. And mugging with them, as well.



The cookies dried overnight, and I put them into bags the next day. I may have just bit off more than I could chew with the whole shower... I also had the task of getting two enormous wrapped strollers upstairs, and sweet-and-sour meatballs in a crockpot. But I had a lot of help, and all the other girls at school really went the extra mile, too. They all said the cookies were delicious. And I think Jen was at least mostly surprised. :) It was a blast!