Back to Work

This morning, Mary came downstairs, peaked into the sun room and said with alarm, 'party all gone!' After I started explaining that our Christmas Tree had to return to the North Pole, I realized she was talking about her new tea party set, which I had packed up and put in her room last night. I told her that she could go have her party upstairs and up she went.

Her omen was true though; the party had ended as of this morning. When I woke up, the house seemed quieter, cleaner, and colder than it's been in a while. Partially, because last night another arctic blast descended on Chicagoland and our prewar insulation doesn't fare well against temperatures hovering in the negative digits. But mostly, because the soft glow and verdant warmth from our Christmas tree are gone, along with all the other Christmas decorations, music, books, cookies, and parties.

Looking out the window, I could see it was a sad morning across the neighborhood. Trees once loved and trimmed with shiny ornaments, twinkling lights, and cascading amounts of presents under them were at the curb. Bare, chilled, and alone. It inevitably made me a little teary.

Beyond just a religious celebration, Christmas and all that it brings to a household seem to symbolize the culmination of one year and the transition to another. You blow out one and ring in the other gilded in grandeur.

My grandma used to say that whatever you do in the New Year, will follow you through the remainder of it. So naturally, I took her counsel to heart, and put my best foot forward. I cooked and baked. I nearly reached senior status with the amount of times I went to Church. I read and relaxed and answered the call to 'Mommy, play' as much as possible. I celebrated with family. Again and again. I welcomed friends to partake in a hunk of good luck twisted into the shape of a pretzel. We took Mary to museums, went sledding, dressed up, danced, and found one more reason to throw a party with Christmas as the backdrop.

The one thing I didn't do throughout my holiday staycation, was think about work. Until last night as I tried to ease the transition back to burger land by getting my creative juices flowing on the griddle once again. I smashed chuck; cooked it on steel; stacked it up per Jamie Oliver's recipe; and bit into one of the reasons I love my job.

After my somber parade of abandoned Christmas Trees / commute to work, it took me all of one hour to get out of my seasonal fog and back into business today. And it completed my stellar start to 2015, affirming my resolution or rather ongoing solution for finding happiness in life: balance - between work, play, parties, and being the best mom and wife I can be.  

Lo. 

The Big Burger Trek

They say if you went to a different restaurant for every meal of the day, you could never exhaust the list of possible eateries in New York City. My question is, if you tried six restaurants each day, and peaked in a couple more for good measure, could you then say you've been to every eating establishment in the Metro area? I'm thinking you'd get close if not all the way there.

Yesterday, I spent the day eating my way through the meatiest parts of Manhattan with five chefs who support the menu pipeline for my company.

Gabby. Our tour guide and Filipino burger fanatic.
Jess. The model of the culinary world.
Eric. The Green Bay cheese man, but Minnesota Vikings fan.
Michael. The flavor expert.
And Chris. The tattooed meat grinder.

Together, we trekked through the city to identify trends in the burger industry and explore what consumers are looking for in an indulgent dining experience. Over the course of six hours, we visited five burger establishments that could easily boast best burger in town and several other concept restaurants that further proved just how many options consumers have.

I ate my way from Umami Burger, to Shake Shack, to Ramen Co., to Jeepney's and finally to Whitman's, from midtown, to downtown, to the East Village, and along with a very full belly, I came across some consistent themes.

First, New Yorkers are willing to pay a hefty price for a good burger.

Second, although my company invented branding, these new fast casual competitors have reinvented it in unique, artistic ways. 

Apparently, there are a whole lot of unemployed Millennials in New York City - or at least quite a few who have enough time to wait for a made to order burger at Shake Shack at 3:30 in the afternoon.

Service with a smile goes a long way. 

Deliciously messy burgers are not so much stacked up with ingredients, as melting together with fresh flavors. The delineation between cheese, sauce, and glaze is absorbed into the enhanced juices of proprietary beef blends, ground and molded in-house. And when you bite into something that looks a lot like a shard of bone, you are willing to forgive it because the rest of the bites thereafter were so scrumptious. 

Burgers with noodle buns are weird and not craveable / one bite was enough. 

Filipino gastronomy is delicious. And according to New Yorkers enables the best burger in the city. Ingredients like banana ketchup, kamote fries, kewpie mayonnaise, sugarcane vinegar, and longaniza sausage were heavenly discoveries. 

Service by stoners is a less desirable. But we decided to give the folks at Whitmans a break because of their proximity to a rather odd herbal shop who was shuttering its doors for a 'class' right around the time we peaked in. 

Noodle shops can be the perfect palette cleanser for someone who has red meat pulsing through their veins. And Momofuko was packed with clean eaters. 

 
I also learned that dining with chefs is awesome; their knowledge of the ingredients, preparation, and history that contribute to a good dish enlightens the whole meal.  I quickly came to the conclusion that tattoo removal is really painful; that burger patties made up of sirloin and longaniza sausage are incredible; that New Yorkers are spoiled rotten when it comes to food; that I will be fasting for the rest of the week; that baby Bobby is going to love red meat; and that I could always use more time in Manhattan.

Lo.

Food, Fast and Slow

Last week, I spent 48 hours touring the Fast Food belts of Greenville and Spartanburg, South Carolina. While the small Southern cities are beautiful excerpts of America, quaintly nestled under the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina, I spent most of my time getting to know strips of the South that looked a lot like their counterparts up North: landscapes, congested with fuel stations and more quick service food choices than ever.

I was there to scope out my Burger and current project at work. The sandwich, boasting preservative free, fresh toppings is being tested in two regions to find out if it merits national launch next year. On my visit to region #1, I ordered, investigated, tasted, and photographed the Burger dozens of times. I cross referenced a thick corridor of competition. And I watched customers in action - how they ordered, paid, ate, and went on their frenzied way.

Just when I thought I couldn't look at or taste another burger, I found myself calling Peter and asking him to pick up some ground beef at the Elburn Meat Market on his way home. I wanted to try something. I wondered how much better a Burger could taste in slow motion - when I wasn't in a hurry; when the job was done.

Theory confirmed. The best Burger I had all week.

The weekend progressed in a similar manner: I continued studying food, fast and slow, focusing on paced preparation while reflecting on the haste my restaurant group is known for. It was a weekend where I didn't feel the need to hurry. Sure, there was stuff to do - closets to organize, floors to clean, beds to weed, errands to run - but I kept turning a blind eye to my chores. This weekend was about the pool, bike rides, long runs, good books, bubbles, pin wheels, folks, fun, and really good food. 

It all worked because I was serving customers in a similar mindset. They had time, so the food could go as slow as I wanted it.

In contrast, last week I witnessed hundreds of people that had big, hard jobs to do - construction, road work, landscaping, hair styling, nursing, teaching, studying, and parenting. I saw people who had a couple minutes and couple dollars to spare. And I saw them trade in their time and treasure for meals that produced a whole lot of satisfied smiles.

There's no doubt that food tends to taste better on holiday weekends - when life hands you time to spare. But when the weekend ends and America starts its engine again, the nation's workforce can count on the consistent quality, value, speed of service, and perfect French Fries available under the Golden Arches.    

Lo.

Grilled Zucchini Caprese Salad

Ingredients: 
3 medium zucchinis, thinly sliced length wise
Olive oil
Red wine vinegar
Fresh Mozzarella, thinly sliced
Two big leaves of Basil, chopped
Salt, pepper

Directions: 
Drizzle olive oil over zucchini. Season with salt and pepper. Grill over charcoal until tender and starting to char. Let cool.

On a small platter, layer grilled zucchini with mozzarella. Drizzle olive oil and red wine vinegar over the platter. Sprinkle with basil and finish seasoning with salt and pepper to taste.