Deep frying improves all. But at the State Fair of Texas in Dallas, fried really hurts. On Opening Day, Slashfood set out to eat all eight of the Big Tex Choice Awards finalists, including the nationally heralded, light and not greasy Deep Fried Butter by Abel Gonzales Jr. (voted Most Creative) and Fernie's Deep Fried Peaches & Cream by Christi Erpillo (voted Best Tasting).
Both fried-food creators have State Fair pedigrees. For several years, each has placed as a finalist or won top prizes. These include Fernie's All-American Fried Grilled Cheese Sandwich in 2008 and Gonzalez's Fried Coke in 2006.
"I go on these kicks where I have to eat the same food, prepared in the same way for weeks," Gonzalez said. "Toast was one of them. I thought, 'What's so great about toast? Not the bread; it's the butter.' "
Last week, Slashfood reported that Abel Gonzales planned to best his fried-food record at the State Fair of Texas with a concoction that shuddered even those with the most hardened of arteries -- Deep-Fried Butter.
The dish -- which comes in four flavors: original, garlic, cherry and grape -- took top honors on Monday when fair officials gave it the Most Creative nod in the Big Tex Choice Awards.
"It's similar to having a dinner roll with a lot of butter," Sue Gooding, a spokeswoman for the fair, told us last week. "It's very good."
It may be a little early in the day to be drooling over empanadas, but... wait, who are we kidding? There's never a wrong time to get excited about delicious-looking food.
These golden pockets of fried goodness from Flickr user Norwhichnuts may have us counting the minutes until lunch, when we can hit the streets and seek out something similar, but that doesn't mean we can't spend the morning in awe of the smooth, green poblano sauce, which serves as a colorful hint to the spinach and cheese hiding beneath the perfectly golden, flaky layers of fried pastry dough. Right?
Deep-fry maestro Abel Gonzales may one day try to conquer what's widely considered the Everest, the four-minute mile and the 56-game hitting streak of fair food: tossed salad. But in the meantime, he's contenting himself with deep-fried butter.
Gonzales, who has twice won top honors in the State Fair of Texas'annual contest for best new midway food, is back this year with deep-fried butter, a dish that's drawing gasps from even the most hard-arteried eaters. The snack will go up against fried peanut-butter-cup macaroons, deep-fried peaches and cream, fried stuffed peppers and fried pork chips with gravy for the Big Tex crown this Monday.
We have joked (on more than one occasion) that if a rotted crab washed up on the beach of Brooklyn's notoriously less-than-pristine Coney Island and someone deep-fried it, we'd eat it.
As many psychiatrists will tell you, there is a hint of truth in all humor. There's just something so ... right about eating artery-clogging fried food oceanside. And per the folks at Concierge.com, who have just compiled a list of the world's 13 best beach foods, "to eat greasy French fries (or fried clams, or even fried dough) on the beach is human."
Perhaps it's the fact that sand cannot penetrate an armor of deep-fried batter (ever tried to eat a sandwich on the beach?). Or we could wax poetic and say the color of fried food was inspired by the shore itself. What's more likely, however, is that fried food stands line most boardwalks, at least in the United States, so it's what we eat -- just as we would a hot dog at the ballpark.
But that's just America. Adcock's "best of the world" list includes sausage and eggs in England, paella in Spain and fish tacos in Maui. [Via Concierge.com]
In the savory round, watch Gina Marie Miraglia Eriquez make zucchini shoestring "fries" as a decadent topping for a "zucchini three ways" salad and competitor Andrea Albin whip up some spicy zucchini fritters with basil-mayo dipping sauce. We'll leave it up to you to decide whether or not Albin's performance-enhancing drug -- bacon -- gave her an unfair advantage over her opponent.
In the sweets round Eriquez appeared to have a stronghold on Albin when she "pulled out the guns" with her zucchini whoopie pies. (Click the video to see how she pulled it off.) But what better way to wash down a zucchini whoopie pie -- or five -- than with Albin's zucchini lime tequila slushie?
Check out the video, vote for your favorite and let us know who you think won and why in the comments.
In this weekly series, home cook Bruce Watson works his way through a decades-old family cookbook, adapting the best recipes exclusively for Slashfood.
Over the last few years, Korean barbecue has gained fresh relevance in the United States. Whether served on hot dog buns in Manhattan, tortillas in Los Angeles or rice in Korean restaurants around the country, the sweet, oniony flavors of bulgoki, japchae and galbi are incredibly delicious and increasingly popular.
When I was a kid, bulgoki (also spelled bulgogi, pulgoki, pulgogi and any number of other ways) was a staple in my house. My parents, who lived in Korea before I was born, loved the stuff and would cook it on an electric griddle at our dinner table. As my sisters and I got older, we got involved in the fun; some of my first cooking experiences involved flipping bulgoki with a pair of bamboo tongs.
I've played with amounts and ingredients, but my mother's basic bulgoki recipe is fantastic. In fact, my only major change is in the dipping sauce: while my parents used light soy sauce with a sprinkle of pepper, I prefer a more traditional garlic/vinegar sauce, which I've included below. Get the recipe for bulgoki after the jump.
Some cooks reach for Sriracha, the ubiquitous Thai hot sauce, in a pinch. Others swear by soy sauce. And then there are those who refuse to reveal (*cough, cough* butter) what made the dish you just demolished delicious. For our part, we've developed a tiny -- OK, midsized -- crush on an infused chili oil, and we need to talk about it.
Sid Wainer & Son's Domaine de Provence pepper-spiked oil is fantastic. A drizzle of the fiery goodness rescues storebought and homemade guacamole alike with a heady, late-blooming heat on the palate. According to owner Henry Wainer, it's also tasty on bruschetta. We plan to carry it on our person all summer -- potentially awkward in the 90-degree swelter -- using guerilla tactics to douse any crustaceans and pork we spy sizzling on the grills of party hosts. (Brooklyn, consider yourself warned.)
Wainer has been equally passionate about the oil since meeting its producer at a dinner in France 18 years ago. Such culinary serendipity, he declares, "enriches the world." Can't argue with that.
If you devour Terra chips and wonder why potatoes are the only veggie that gets such beloved treatment, or if you love everything fried, you must try yuca fries.
Yuca is that large, kinda scary looking vegetable that pops up all over the place now, but still isn't getting its culinary due. It's starchy, full of good calcium, and even a taste of Vitamin C -- basically a sweeter sort of potato with a slightly different flavor and texture. Unfortunately, it's not quite as easy to prepare as our ol' potatoes. The skin is much firmer, and cutting it is more like a butternut squash than a potato.
Nevertheless, when you throw it into some hot oil, then spray it with salt and seasoning, it's french fries with a twist -- familiar enough that it's almost like old-hat, with a new and fresh flavor that ups the ante. Since it's quite a firm root, yuca is often boiled first, although the above fries were just thrown raw into some oil cooking away on med-high heat until they were crunchy. And of course, like potatoes, they can be made into some rather tasty chips.
As an eating and cooking culture, we're super-glued to our potatoes, and with good reason: They're delicious, versatile, and easy to prepare. But even as great as the taters are, sometimes other roots need their time in the spotlight.
My Culinary Degradation post, which ran in February, inspired a fair bit of competition among my readers. While I managed to come up with a few moderately-disturbing food choices, my readers really ran with the idea, suggesting outrageous beer and ice cream combinations and fried foods that bordered on blasphemy. Last, but not least, they also suggested some monster burgers that strained the imagination, not to mention the digestive system.
I'm no stranger to big burgers, having worked my way through Red Robin's entire menu, but the Heart Attack Grill's Quadruple Bypass Burger is far, far out of my league. With four 1/2-pound patties, four slices of bacon, three slices of cheese, lettuce, and tomato, it is estimated to contain 8,000 calories. While I can't think of a lot of reasons to visit Chandler Arizona, I may still have to make a visit.
One reader, Astin, recommended Dangerous Dan's, a restaurant in Toronto. Their "Colossal Colon Clogger Combo" contains 24 ounces of beef, a quarter pound of bacon, a quarter pound of cheese, and two fried eggs. For $23.95, it comes with a large shake and a side of gravy and cheese curd-laden fries.
In a recent marketing campaign, Oscar Meyer proclaimed that its "Deli Creations" flatbread sandwiches were "blogworthy."
I beg to differ.
Nobody likes to be manipulated, and I would argue that bloggers like it less than most. There's something about spending a few lonesome hours a day cranking out content that really ups the curmudgeon quotient and makes us a mite persnickety about our production process. While other blogs, including Gawker, might not be too picky about where they get their tips, I tend to get mighty cranky when multimillion dollar corporations tell me what is and is not blogworthy.
With that in mind, here's something that really is blogworthy: fried bologna sandwiches. For anybody who hasn't tried this backwoods delicacy, the concept may sound a little questionable. However, the combination of bologna and heat produces a dish that is incredibly delicious and startlingly different from a basic bologna sandwich.
We always think of the delicious potatoes falling into the sizzling hot oil, but what about apples?
Above you can watch Chef Jason Hill make apple fries. Oh yes, he takes apples, slices 'em like fries, fries 'em up, and tops them with some cinnamon sugar. Unlike potatoes, which benefit from the double-frying technique, these guys are simple and quick -- just a coating of corn starch and into the oil they go. The simplicity and speed of this makes it perfect for that wow-treat for company. It won't take hours to make, and your guests will get a pleasantly sweet surprise.
Hill pairs the fries with a quick sauce of marshmallow and cream cheese, but I'm thinking a delicious yogurt-based dip would be perfect with this.
From my great-grandmother (called MaMa by her descendants), an inimitable Southern cook and hostess, I inherited a wooden spoon and a set of Chantilly silver that she purchased for herself from wages earned on the Singer Sewing Machine sales floor. Recently, I found out that another piece of MaMa's kitchen is still in the family: her West Bend Deep Fryer, which she purchased in the mid-1970s and passed along to my mother when my parents bought their first beach condo.
As an over-active child, I paid no attention to the equipment my parents used to fry the bream and bass that my brother and I caught in a lake near our condo. Fast forward two decades, during which my family indulged in fried foods less and less. The fryer had fallen into disuse until a few weeks ago, when I decided to try my hand at homemade French fries to accompany some rib-eyes that my cousin sent for Christmas. I was spending a week with my family at our current condo on the Florida panhandle, and my mother mentioned that I could use the old deep fryer.
Heirloom silver and an old wooden spoon are one thing, but antique appliances? Between the fryer's advanced age and my complete inexperience with fries, I was apprehensive to say the least. Find a picture of the results after the jump.
I generally try to eat wisely and well. I avoid greasy foods, turn my back on excessively processed ingredients, constantly rail against high fructose corn syrup, and try to eat all my veggies. Unfortunately, however, just as my day-to-day dietary Dr. Jekyll is upright and intelligent, I also have a culinary Mr. Hyde, who comes out when I find myself confronted with particularly delectable deep fried delicacies. Generally, this isn't much of a problem, as the fried food in my neighborhood mostly consists of unmentionable pig parts and the occasional codfish pancake. Moreover, since I've moved away from Southwest Virginia, I am no longer tempted by the Salem Fair, a horrifying assemblage of rides, petting zoos, and oil-soaked goodies that used to be the highlight of my year.
Recently, however, I came across a website for Big Tex, the Texas State Fair. While I will always maintain a warm spot for the food options at Salem, it is painfully clear that Southwest Virginia's yearly orgy of deep-fried wonders pales in comparison to the pure, unrestrained genius of Texas' chefs. With items like "Chicken Fried Bacon," "Texas Fried Jelly Belly Beans," and "Fried Pop Rocks Fundae," the Lone Star state has staked an unquestionable claim to national fryolator dominance. I was particularly impressed by "Fire and Ice," a battered, deep-fried pinapple ring that is covered in banana-flavored whipped cream that has been dipped in liquid nitrogen.
Liquid nitrogen? These guys are GODS.
Anyway, the fair is over for this year...but I'm looking ahead to next fall. Only 330 days to go!