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March 31, 2008
Big Az Idiocracy
Scene from Idiocracy
The scene in Mike Judge's film, Idiocracy -- the one where Luke Wilson's character gets arrested at the Carl Jr.'s vending machine which is dispensing Big Ass Fries and Big Ass Tacos -- is set 500 years in the future. But today, on the Staten Island Ferry it became apparent that we're living in a present-day Idiocracy. We don't need to wait for the future to purchase Big Ass products. "Big Az Chicken Sandwiches" are available in the ferry cafeteria. Just head on down to South Ferry and see for yourself:
We also found very reasonably priced Budweiser tall boys for a mere $3 and "warm" (i.e. microwaved) miniature cookies that we're pretty convinced were poured into little paper sacks from a cereal box of Cookie Crisp -- cleverly disguised with a new name: Crispy Critters. Warm "cookies" will cost you $2.
Just add milk and you have a delicious cereal that's part of this nutritious breakfast
Crispy Critters aka Cookie Crisp
For more Big Az products like Big Az Meatloaf, Ham and Cheese Sandwich and Burger and information on how to contribute to the modern day Idiocracy movement, click here.
Big Az Meatloaf Sandwich with Catsup
As they say themselves, "Big Az sandwiches combine giant size with giant quality and taste!...All sandwiches are made with quality ingredients including the world's best microwaveable bun." We're not sure exactly what flavor "giant taste" is and we're obviously going to have to microwave a number of different bun products to determine if Big Az does in fact make the best. But for now, we'll take them at their word.
Posted by Cakehead at 05:33 AM | Comments (0)
March 28, 2008
A little taste of heaven: Rwandan Mayonnaise
Rwandan Mayonnaise
One of my favorite guilty pleasures is eating french fries that have been deep-dipped into a pot of mayonnaise. In Rwanda, french fries come with nearly every meal so this decadent indulgence is fast becoming habitual.
In most countries the frite would be the highlighted ingredient -- made better only with the richness of the greasy condiment. But in Rwanda the mayonnaise is so good that the frite is merely a vehicle by which to transport the spread from bowl to mouth. The mayonnaise here tastes lightly of lemon -- hollandaise sauce's close cousin. The rich buttery yellow comes from the dark orange yolks. The slight crust that builds around the edges is worthy of its own name. I'll even admit that I've been caught scraping off the congealed build up and devouring it as a delicacy as rich as fois gras.
Why is the mayonnaise so delicious in Rwanda? It's a question I have asked all the waiters and chefs I've encountered. No one knows the secret, but I have my theories. As with all things delicious, ingredients is key. After oil, the main element in mayonnaise is the egg.
There are choices when buying eggs in Rwanda. All are small -- two sizes larger than a quail egg, one size smaller than the Grade A Extra Large egg found in America. The choice comes with color. Brown eggs come from chickens that are fed fish feed. The resulting yolk is a pale white color, basically albino cholesterol. The white eggs are an entirely different entity altogether. They contain the yolks used for Rwanda's amazing mayonnaise. Occupying the majority of the space inside the white egg shell is a dark orange yolk sunnier and denser than the flesh of a pumpkin. It is the egg flavor and a hint of the native lemons that punches through the oil and sets this mayonnaise apart.
It's clear that the mayonnaise here hasn't been pasteurized and warm mayonnaise is quite common -- evidence that it has never seen refrigeration of any kind. In this way, perhaps I'm tempting fate. But considering all that I've eaten thus far, it's impressive that my stomach remains content and without incident.
Posted by Cakehead at 02:21 PM | Comments (1)
Pitting Colonized against Colonizer in a French Fry Faceoff
I thought that my layover in Brussels was going to spoil me -- prevent me from properly appreciating the Rwandan frites that I eagerly anticipated would be the staple of my diet for the coming 7 weeks.
For my 14-hour Bruxelles stop, I planned to stay with a dear friend from graduate school. I knew that even with this limited time, in her hands I would experience the very best in Belgian beer halls and frite kots (Flemish for "french fry cottage"). But as thrilled as I was to sip some beer and for the first time sample the authentic Belgian pomme frite on Brussels soil, I was secretly rooting for Rwanda's frites in the faceoff that I planned between evil colonizer and former colony. During my trip to Rwanda in 2004 I gorged on this ubiquitous starchy snack. Now, I wanted to see how it held up against its culinary origins.
While the french fry may be one of the only positive contributions that the former Belgian colonists made to Rwanda, I wondered if the quality and taste of the Rwandan fry had actually surpassed and exceeded the frites of its origins. Plus, as a fan of the underdog I felt that Belgium already has the world's attention when it comes to french fries and beer. I was hoping to reposition the spotlight to give Rwanda the attention it deserves.
Jetlagged and weary from a nap I shouldn't have taken, I follow Miss JvR-B as she graciously steers me down the cobblestoned streets. I'm grateful that I don't need to keep track of the street names and turns we take so I can concentrate on catching up with her. But since I'm not actually paying attention I neglected to note the name of the stall where we land. I am handed a greasy cone filled with golden treasures, coated in a oozing dallop of mayonnaise. A tiny fork is plunged into the mayonnaise glob, there allegedly to prevent your fingers from getting coated in oil. I skip the fork and take the plunge with my fingers.
There are many reasons why Belgian french fries are so good. One trick is the thick, easily grippable cut of the potato. Another is the technique where the potato sticks are fried in beef fat, not once, but twice. But as I would later find out when I arrived in Rwanda, the reason the frites eating experience is superior in Rwanda versus Belgium is not the fry itself. Rather, it's the dipping sauce for the fry. In Rwanda I ate mayonnaise like none I had ever tasted. It's rich and eggy and yellow. Who knew a simple condiment could elevate a greasy snack to such a praise-worthy level?
Posted by Cakehead at 12:46 PM | Comments (0)
March 26, 2008
You Know You Want It. You Can't Have.
There's a lot of pressure when you're traveling in the developing world to either brag about the amazing access to delicious street food you're sampling or on the flip, to report back home about the urgent cravings you're having for whatever that dish is that you just can't get in a place so "deprived" and "dangerous."
"You must be dying over there." "What are you craving?" "Do they even have Twinkies? How about vegetables?"
Why are people so excited at the idea that I can't have something? Why are they hoping to tantalize me by mentioning food that I hadn't even thought about since 2002?
I consider myself a pretty thoughtful person. I want the world to be fed, for all to be satiated. I'm not going to hope that the diner down the street holds out on the real maple syrup for the pancakes you ordered. So why do you delight in the fact that it might be difficult for me to score an iceberg wedge with chunky blue cheese with a hint of anchovies and maybe a little crumble of thickly cut bacon?
"No," I meekly report. "There are no McDonalds in Rwanda. I guess I will have to wait on that breakfast sandwich."
That's what it's like. Why interrupt my fun with reminders of what I can't have? Is the hope to make me feel empty, alone and homesick?
If you want to go to Rwanda or Haiti or Cambodia or any place where ice cream sundaes and breakfast sandwiches are few and far between, just write us at cakehead. You won’t hear a peep out of us until you're at the airport. Then we'll arrive with your welcome home iceberg wedge, breakfast sandwich and banana split…and maybe even a root beer float.
Posted by Cakehead at 02:21 PM | Comments (3)
March 22, 2008
Culinary delights of Rwanda
A sorry excuse for why cakehead hasn't been posting: we were entirely consumed sampling from every lunch buffet Rwanda has to offer.
The cakehead blogging hiatus has been long and mean. We never gave warning that we were going to be going away for a little while. But it's not because of anything you did as readers and it's not because we're terrified of the commitment of writing a daily blog.
We were just very busy, preparing our entire cakehead team for a trip to the other side of the Atlantic and the equator. We left no one behind. From the staff in the test kitchen to our tasters, food stylists, recipe historians, restaurant critiques and cookbook reviewers. We loaded ourselves into a jet airplane to first sample the delicacies that Brussels Airline had to offer...then upon touchdown we began our six week tasting adventure of the cuisine of Rwanda and kicked off our love affair with the country itself.
Now we're back and are committed to bringing you all the new stories and discoveries we find, viewing the world as we do, through food-colored glasses. Maybe we'll even write a report on our dining experiences in the land of a thousand hills.
Posted by Cakehead at 03:09 PM | Comments (1)
