Childhood Enhanced

Andre Bshara  

Moms and dads everywhere know how to prepare one. Children everywhere like to eat it. I know what you’re thinking: a sandwich. You are correct. But there is a specific type of sandwich that leaves people speechless. Literally. When the contents of this sandwich get stuck on the roof of your mouth, you won’t be able to utter a single comprehensible word. Now I think you’ve narrowed it down. A peanut butter sandwich is a classic example of the main course in a child’s lunch. Most kids enjoy their sandwiches with a spread of strawberry or grape jelly, but some kids enjoy it plain. Well I am here to help those kids out. Although I do enjoy peanut butter sandwiches with/without jelly, other additions can be made to intensify the flavor. Before I get into the details, I would like to address the kids who do not put enough peanut butter on their sandwiches. STOP WHAT YOU ARE DOING. Be generous with the spread. You can even put an extra dollop in the middle—think of it as a goal or a little achievement for getting to the middle of the sandwich. Each one of the following modifications to the peanut butter sandwich has a generous helping of everything.

One piece of bread is covered with peanut butter. The other piece is covered with Nutella.. What is the first reaction that any regular human being would have? It is to slap those two sides together. This first combination is simple yet delicious. Chocolate and peanut butter made into a sandwich is ridiculously delicious. Now in order to put some texture into each bite, granola may be used.

Want to test your knife skills and make a sandwich at the same time? Chop up a banana into thin disks to put on your peanut butter sandwich. The banana slices should cover the entire surface of the bread. Although it is a bit unstable once you pick the sandwich up, it is a risk worth taking for more goodness in your sandwich. Tasting this combination will make you/your children/any child ever want to cover an entire banana with peanut butter and fry it. I wish this were possible (maybe it is?). These ideas build off each other. Put some Nutella in that peanut butter and banana sandwich.

If you’re looking to combine peanut butter with the purest form of sweet, then you need a jar of honey. You cannot have the honey that is sold at supermarkets. No. Get that honey from some local farmer’s market for maximum effect. Put some on the peanut butter sandwich you have waiting at home, and enjoy. And if you want, take that peanut butter, banana, and Nutella sandwich we were talking about earlier and add honey.

The ultimate peanut butter sandwich consists of all the previously listed items, but with your preferred flavor of jelly. That’s not all. Make it a double-decker peanut butter sandwich. Add one more layer, just so your nose can end up with some of the ingredients on it.

Take these suggestions to heart; they are all great snacks. And as always, cut from corner to corner.

An Ode to Organ Meat

Stephen Tryban  

One of the most enjoyable and satisfying experiences I had on my family trip to Italy was my first sampling of tripe. Tripe, for those who don't know, is the edible stomach tissue of an animal. While we were in a small trattoria nestled in the mountains of the central provinces, our family friends overheard my desire to try the organ meat (why I wanted to in the first place still escapes me), and ordered me a dish of "trippa alla romagna.” Laid out in front of me was one of the strangest animal products I'd ever seen bathed in a rich tomato sauce which offered a wondrous aroma. It ended up being my favorite dish on that trip, so much so that I ordered it again during our stay in Florence.

Now, years later, I find myself in a culinary climate that, more or less, rejects organ meats. Such cuts were sparse on Italian menus, but seem to be non-existent on the menus of even some of the most exotic restaurants in the United States. What I find especially concerning is the lack of tripe. Just how could such a delicious food find itself only on the metaphorical chopping block?

Admittedly there are a number of factors that work against it. As mentioned before, tripe is essentially the edible part of an animal’s stomach. This fact alone is already a red flag for many who see eating tripe as downright unhygienic. Most tripe, however, is "dressed": boiled and bleached, usually by an experienced butcher or professional "tripe dresser". Nonetheless, even the faintest idea of the possible remaining stomach contents can churn one's own stomach. Its appearance is bizarre, sometimes sporting a honeycomb like pattern, while other times it sprouts feathery-like extensions. For good measure, the word "tripe" itself has become synonymous for garbage or crap.

With that said, what does tripe actually have to offer? For one thing one would find that tripe, like most sweetbreads (another, albeit confusing, name for organ meats in the culinary world), is not in high demand, and as such, one could probably barter a good price for it. While containing slightly more cholesterol than your average cut of meat, tripe is a great source of zinc, vitamin B12, and selenium. Additionally, the website of an obscure "tripe store" in Leeds, England boasts that tripe has the ability to increase ones libido fourfold (although evidence is a bit lacking on this phenomenon). But it is truly the taste of tripe that makes it remarkable. While its texture is rather odd, tripe has a rich and hearty flavor that is unmatched by any other cut of meat I've ever had. I urge you to experience it for yourself.

Although appearances may be deceiving, tripe truly is one of the tastiest sweetbreads around. The fact that it isn't more widely available to the gourmand's palate is, in my opinion, a load of tripe.

Test Kitchen

Caitlin Morath  

Take the fast-pace energy from Top Chef, fold in the secret ingredient from Iron Chef, and then sprinkle on the creativity of a contestant trying to cook on Survivor. There you have it: my experience cooking in The Neutral Zone kitchen.

Where is this culinary adventureland you might ask? It’s hidden inside a teen drop in center only a few blocks off campus. My day job at NZ is technically that of tutor, but I moonlight as Executive Chef as well.

The space provides a perfect test kitchen. The café is stocked with ingredients, although many are leftover donations from dinners and events, so nothing quite matches. Same goes for cooking utensils- there are plenty around but sometimes it requires creativity to get the result you want (like the time we transformed tongs into a lemon zester… worked out better than you might expect).

But the best part about cooking at NZ isn’t the creativity or ingenuity; it’s the teens. First of all, they will eat almost anything. There is nothing like a group of hungry kids to make you feel better about your most outrageous kitchen creation. Knowing that there will always be someone around willing to eat the food, or at the very least appreciate the effort, makes food risks seem a little less scary and a lot more fun. And I’m not the only crazy chef around.

More often than not, teens will join me in the kitchen. From maple syrup in biscuits, tablespoons worth of cinnamon in cookie batter to taco seasoning on pasta, these sous-chefs help to remind me that even the craziest cooking creations have the chance to turn out alright.

So whether you’re inspired to come cook for Neutral Zone, or just to add a secret ingredient to tonight’s dinner, I encourage you to go forth and cook crazy.

Osteria's Treats: Short of Expectations

Rama Sarraj  

In an attempt to find Italian dessert that would be as authentic as Iorio’s gelato, my friend and I decided to explore Mani Osteria on East Liberty. The atmosphere was great – bustling, bubbly, and fun. Our main meal was impeccable, so naturally we had high hopes for dessert. We ordered the mini cannolis, which come in three flavors (lemon-ricotta, chocolate, and pistachio), espresso panna cotta, and Limóncello flavored gelato. Unfortunately, the desserts were not on par with our expectations. The cannolis, though flavorful, were slightly dry. For those looking for a rich and satisfying dessert, they are also too light and small (they are bite-sized). They were also not sweet enough to satisfy my (difficult-to-satisfy) sweet tooth. Moving on, the panna cotta was better in terms of size and taste, but it was lacking coherence in flavors. It is a rather unusual for a panna cotta; it comes in a cup and is divided into several layers: the first layer consists of a white cream topped with candied almonds, the second a jam/jelly-like substance, and the third a rich espresso-flavored mousse. The candied almonds were crunchy, caramel-flavored and delicious. The whipped cream, however, was more like heavy whipping cream. It seemed to have no sugar and was very flat. The second layer, though sweet and tasty, had an odd, gooey texture that did not blend in with the cream at all. On the other hand, the third layer, the espresso mouse, was not as soft as one would expect and tasted very strongly of coffee. For coffee-lovers, this might be a treat. But for cream-lovers like myself, the panna cotta contains very few hints of the creamy goodness of the authentic Italian dessert. The Limóncello gelato was the best of the three desserts – it was creamy yet zesty and refreshing, a difficult combination to get right, but the three-scoop portion was more than enough for two!

Though the overall quality of the desserts at Mani was high, there were too many inconsistencies in the portions, textures, and flavors. With a little work, these classic Italian desserts could be fabulous. This is not to say that Mani is not a first-class restaurant – perhaps it is because the main course food is so great. I would strongly recommend a main course at Mani, but Ann Arbor has many other restaurants and cafés that can offer a scrumptious Italian dessert treat.

Food and Philanthropy

Courtney Chandler  

After deciding to come to Michigan, I remember thoroughly searching through the seemingly endless list of clubs offered across campus. Being a foodie, I took special note of clubs involving cooking, eating, or any combination of the two. In the end, I not only found Wolverine CuiZine, but additionally found two clubs that incorporated my love of food and philanthropy: Project Flavor and Kid’s Kitchen.

The members of Project Flavor meet bi-monthly at the Ronald McDonald House of Ann Arbor, which provides a ‘home away from home’ for families with hospitalized children. Ann Arbor’s Ronald McDonald house is located across from the Mary Markley dormitory, in close proximity to Mott’s Children’s Hospital. On alternating Fridays, members cook dinner for the families, and everything is made from scratch – from apple crisp to tabbouleh to hamburger buns (which ended up being a complete disaster and prompted a last-minute emergency trip to the store). At the end of each cook date (which last about four hours), the families come in and eat the meal.

Kid’s Kitchen has a similar mission statement – members meet approximately once a month for baking events. At these events, everyone bakes different sweet treats (such as cookies, cupcake, and rice krispie treats), which are then delivered to Mott’s Children Hospital or the Ronald McDonald house.

Both clubs offer extremely rewarding experiences, and the dinner and sweet treats hopefully bring homemade comfort to families and children in trying situations. Other food clubs across campus include: the Ann Arbor Student Coop, which provides fresh, affordable, and sustainable food to students on campus; Cultivating Community, which empowers students to become leaders in sustainable food systems through hands on organic gardening, community outreach, and education; and Food Futures, which brings together members of the Michigan law community and other professional and gradate students to help promote intelligent food production and food security policies.

I Am a Host: Sushi vs. Sashimi

S. Jin Lee  

Over the past summer, I enjoyed my first taste of dormitory emancipation by staying at a sublet during the spring term. Not used to cooking for myself in the dorms, I took up a job as a host-slash-cashier at a local Japanese restaurant. This way, I would have a moderate income to support my “let’s-just-get-takeout-for-every-meal” lifestyle. My job entails greeting and seating dine-in customers and taking to-go orders over the phone, among other tasks. It’s a pretty good job: the pay is decent, the coworkers are friendly, and most importantly, the employee meals are free.

As a first-time restaurant host, I’ve made some observations about our specific Japanese eatery, the food industry in general, and the people they both serve (primarily because during off-peak hours, that’s all I can do). One of the first things I noticed after taking profuse amounts of to-go orders over the phone was that not many customers knew the difference between sushi and sashimi. I initially was taken aback by this; I had thought Japanese food was pervasive enough in American culture for the average US citizen to have some basic understanding of the cuisine. After overcoming my initial (and slightly snobby) judgment, I quickly thought to myself that a simple explanation for the customer will make everything clear.

Boy, was I naïve.

To clarify, “sushi” (more specifically nigiri) is sliced, raw fish atop rice, while “sashimi” is the same style of fish without rice. For people who infrequently eat Japanese food, I would be more than willing to help a customer out with differentiating between the two. Similar to when I dine at Italian restaurants and order pasta, I never remember the difference between penne, rotini, and linguine. In my desperation, I graciously accept help from my server. However, I’m less inclined to help someone who, after learning about the two, is dead-set on ordering five orders of “tuna sashimi with rice.” I could always just punch in what I assume the customer wants, but then I run the risk of getting the order completely wrong and in turn, paying out of my pocket for it. Having experienced this before and receiving an earful from the sushi chefs (turns out that the customer misspoke and actually just wanted tuna sashimi, how about that) I really don’t want to do it again. I still have nightmares of middle-aged, five-foot-five men berating me about raw fish. Therefore, in cases like this, I have to keep pressing the customer for more details, resulting in phone calls that are ten minutes longer than they should be.

Time, in this case, is money.

It’s even worse when this confusion happens on a larger scale. There’s an item on our menu called the Takara Bune, which literally translates to “treasure boat” in English. It’s a hefty platter of sashimi (with an equally hefty price of 180 dollars) that is meant to feed eight “sashimi lovers only,” as amusingly described by our menu. When customers order this, they should know what they’re getting into, as the Bune requires a huge investment on their part. Now, this hasn’t happened to me personally, but I heard a story about a previous server who neglected to ensure that his customers knew what they were ordering. When the customers received the Bune, they noted that they did not receive sushi rice with the raw fish and demanded that the chefs correct the mistake. It’s a reasonable complaint and the fault is on the server, who should have taken the extra time to clarify and verify the customers’ wants. Fortunately, the sushi chefs (begrudgingly) took back the Bune and put sushi rice with the sashimi. The customers were satisfied and the server did not have to take the personal financial hit.

Despite the server’s luck, I still shed a tear for him. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that the chefs blasted him in front of all the employees for his “incompetency.” Like I hinted earlier, when someone messes up an order that big and costly, hell hath no fury like a sushi chef scorned.

Nightly Snacks

Kristen Lan  

Night markets are one of the best places to experience all sorts of Taiwanese foods: ranging from bubble tea (which tastes totally different from the bubble tea in Ann Arbor) to takoyaki. However, before digging into the wide variety of foods, be prepared to be squeezed!

For starters, imagine a typical farmer’s market. Then, change the veggie & fruit stands into stands serving oyster omelets, scallion pancakes, tanghulu, and lots more Asian treats that would take me pages to list down. Next, of course, being a night market, it should start after the late afternoons mostly after sunset (that’s usually around six or seven year round). And finally, “insert” crowds of peoples. They make up 95% of the liveliness in night markets.

The vendors sell all kinds of foods. One notable treat would be stinky tofu due to its distinctive smell. It’s a type of fermented tofu, which, according to its name, gives off a stench. However, the smelliness isn’t all to it, the deep fried stinky tofu is a combination of a crunchiness and softness. Some people cannot stand the smell of this fried treat, but absolutely love the taste of it!

The next snack’s smell will hit you even if you are ten stands away. The names usually vary for it, but I’ll go with a double layer roll sausage. The literal translation of it is “big intestine wrap small intestine,” but no worries; we’re not talking about intestinal organs here. It’s a pork sausage wrapped in a rice sausage “bun.” At a night market, these treats have one of longest lines, and pass the smell of grilled meat even from meters away. A smart “tactic” I would advise is don't eat a whole double layer sausage, but share with a few friends. Therefore, you could try out more treats along the way!

A foreign drink that has been gaining popularity in Taiwanese night markets is the teh tarik. It’s an extraordinary sight to see the vendors “pull” the tea around with their cups before serving. The teh tarik is commonly served in a clean plastic bag with a straw stuck to the opening. You could fasten the plastic bag to your wrist and don’t have to worry of losing your drink.

In Taiwanese night markets, the food choices vary so much that it is hard to introduce all the treats. However, the buzzy crowds in the night market create quite the scene. A trip to the night market will not only be a great chance to experience the culture, but also present a great opportunity to have a wide variety of foods.