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We’ll leave it to Andrew Zimmern to dig slimy creatures out of tree trunks and claim they are food. Here we are talking about food the average American might encounter in everyday life. I believe we should appreciate the abundance of good food that we have. That appreciation is only enhanced by recognizing the awful stuff that we are fortunate enough not to have to eat. Here is my list.
Chicken-Fried Steak on the Road
If you draw a line across the United States and travel anywhere south of that line, every truck stop you encounter is guaranteed to have chicken-fried steak. It’s available other places as well, although not so much at those chain restaurants. As far as food goes, chicken-fried steak is the embodiment of evil. It is beef dipped in batter, deep fried, and served up with cream gravy. A magnificent triple load of grease, cholesterol, and calories. That’s real American.
Baumkuchen means tree cake in German, and no, it doesn’t stand up like a pine tree or require power tools to cut. The cake is named for the cross-section resemblance to tree rings. The rings come from preparation on a rotating spindle. Layers of cake batter are added and baked one-at-a-time as the long cylindrical cake rotates in an oven. My six inch cake had fifteen layers, but they may have twenty-five. The task takes both skill and patience, hence it’s called the “King of Cakes.”
Bob's Red Mill 8 Grain Hot Cereal
I liked it. Boiled grain is never going to be dynamite, but morning meals needn’t be dynamite. The engine can be started without stomping on the accelerator. The flavor has a nutty character that reminds one of those fields of grain. As promised, it tastes unprocessed. It must be the hundred-year-old stone-buhr that does it.
Burger and Pie at the Mile High
I first visited Jerome, Arizona, on a hot day last July. Jerome was once a mining boom town, dubbed “the wickedest town in the West” by a New York newspaper in the early 1900s. Jerome now has a new life as a funky artists hangout and tourist town. Jerome has eateries with character. We moseyed into the Mile High Grill for lunch. This is, after all, a part of the West where moseying is expected. The Muma burger on the menu caught my eye.
