Portland Buffalo Wing Off

Mmm... chicken wings. *Homer-like noises*


My thoughts on wings: they must be crispy, saucy, hot and come with a good, creamy dressing (Ranch or Bleu cheese dressing are both fine with me). And that's it really! Why is it so hard to find a good wing in town, then?

A recent Sunday Funday had M. declaring a 'wing off.' First, we hit up Sebago Brewing Company in the Old Port, the home of the previously held best plate of wings in town.

Pluses: usually crispy, plenty spicy, will bring you ranch, bleu cheese or both, and... the best part: wings are served whole. *Insert flapping arm-as-a-chicken-wing demo here* (think about it...) So for $7.99, a half dozen is really a dozen!


These are my go-to wings. Winner! Right? Right?? Not so fast.

So, after consuming two big beers here, it seemed like a good idea to head up the hill to the Stadium. Here they serve Binga's Wingas, which come in a myriad of flavors. (Usually a bad sign. Don't try to get fancy- just make good Buffalo wings.)

And... even worse, they come either breaded or smoked. I say, no thank you to both. But, forcing my hand, I'll go with breaded. Just hoping it's not too breaded.

We ordered two half orders: Buffalo and Redneck (maple and Buffalo). At $6.49 for a half order, and a half order being 6 of the wing pieces, not the whole wing, these are decidedly more expensive.


But, here comes the upset... Redneck wings, FTW! I loved them. Buffalo is pictured above, and they were OK. But the sweet and hot combo of the Redneck Buffalo blew me away. Good thing they were placed in front of me, so there were no fights.


Even though the Stadium only serves "blanch" (wha?) aka bleu cheese and ranch, I really loved how crispy these wings were. You know the deliciousness that results from a crispy fried coating softened by some sticky, hot sauce. I can't stop thinking about them.

I rather regretted the wing off in the middle of the night, but let's just know that the next time I'm ready for wings (I'll need a few weeks to recover), that I'm heading for these Redneck wings at the Stadium!

Also, I have railed against the breaded wings at the Stadium before. But I am prone to changing my mind- hence my blog, where I can chronicle my flip-floppery.

Fermenting Away

I did something and didn't tell you about it. *gasp* I know- in a world of TMI, you're thinking, thank God. Someone keep their mouth shut about something.

But sometimes I need a meal off. Like, I just want to go to a bar and eat a burger without taking pictures. Or notes. Or thinking about it. (Too bad, shouldn't have participated in the Burger-o-rama!)

Then there's those times where I start something, don't document it, but then want to share it with you. Fortunately for me, the sauerkraut I started is still around, bubbling on the kitchen counter.


It all started when M. and I's friend Matt visited from Haiti. (He's been working there building schools for a year. He has to leave periodically to renew his visa and let his various ailments heal. And he comes to visit us and we have weekends full of debauchery and eat all of his favorite foods.)

Matt loves all things fermented (drinking, eating, and making). Before I took the Master Food Preserver course, I ate some fermented pickled beets that Matt had made. They were smoking. Not like, smokin' but like, literally smoking. I don't know that I would have tried them knowing what I know now! (He still insists they were perfectly safe.)


Most recently when Matt visited, we went and toured the Maine Mead Works facility, watched some mead violently fermenting, and inspired by all the talk of DIY fermentation, I started some sauerkraut.


I had two small to medium sized heads of green cabbage in my crisper from my winter CSA share. I shredded them using my awesome new mandolin slicer and made a brine of 1.5 tablespoons of salt to 1 quart of water.

Usually, you salt the cabbage as you slice it, but I thought that since the cabbage was (shamefully) old, that it probably did not have a lot of moisture to draw out of it. So I just skipped that part and created my own brine.

I packed the kraut into washed quart jars and weighted down the cabbage below the brine with plastic bags full of brine. I used brine instead of water, so that if the bag were to puncture and leak, it wouldn't dilute the salinity of the kraut brine.


And that's it! I left it to ferment on my kitchen counter- that way I can check on it every day. And after two weeks, it's definitely kraut-y, but the cabbage is still very crunchy. So I'm going to let it sit for a little longer before transferring it to the fridge. 

Also inspired by Matt's visit, was my purchase of the book, Wild Fermentation by Sandor Ellix Katz. It's an awesome book that details how fermentation works, and then the process for making your own fermented veggies, yogurt, Kombucha, beer, wine, and on and on. Stuff I've never even heard of.


And someone asked how my fermented pickles went from last summer. I didn't tell you that the end result was gross. They ended up in my friend's compost. I have no idea what went wrong, but I read in Wild Fermentation that any number of things could have happened. But after a few weeks, they tasted terrible. Like awful sea water. Sad. I'll try again when the cukes are back!

And I'll be sure to take lots of pictures for you. :)

BBF Travels: Box Hill Pizzaria

When I was younger, I was fascinated that companies could call their product 'the best' without any verification. I remember, in particular, being struck by a beer label that claimed their beer was better than any other. I asked my dad, who says? and he responded, no one, they just say that. *Insert mind boggling*

Well, here you have it, ladies and gents- according to Box Hill Pizzaria, the best crab cake anywhere.

That's right, anywhere.


Pretty amazing, huh? Yes, of course, I mean the crab cake, but the superlative too.

My only regret was how full it made me- I attempted to take the other half to go, but since it was 70 that day, and it sat in the car for 3 hours, I decided to toss it.

Or more like others decided for me. 'Cuz I might have eaten it, it was that good.



P.S.- Best. blog. ever.

BBF Finds: Salted Herbs

Look what I found!! Spotted in the refrigerator section of pickles and bacon in the Portland Hannaford. It's Mailhot's Salted Herbs. Now, you know I heart their sausage, so I was excited to see a new-to-me French Canadian product. The ingredients are simple: salt, parsley, leeks, and scallions.

Now what to do with it...

Google taught me that herbs were preserved in salt before refrigeration was widespread. My co-worker with French Canadian relatives tells me it's used in pork pie. And of course, I infer that you can put it on anything relevant- meats, eggs, in soups, stews, etc.

But does anyone know of any other traditional uses? Educate me!

Update: After polling all the French Mainers I know, I believe there is no one specific use for herbes salle. Rather, it's just used in French-Canadian cooking, from omelettes, to soups and stews. Basically, if you'd add herbs or salt to it, you can use salted herbs.

This jar does need to be refrigerated and probably can last as long as it'd take you to use it. I'd keep it 6 to 8 months to be safe and of course, discard it if you notice any mold. It can easily be made- see this Food in Jars post for tips on making flavored salts or sugars.

I Love Maine Mead Works

I'm just gonna title the post that way, so you have no doubts as to what I think of our local meadery.

And maybe you've heard of and love Maine Mead Works too, since their popularity is on the rise. Maybe you've sampled their product at a Greendrinks or eyed up a bottle at the Portland Public Market's Maine Beer & Beverage Co. But have you ever toured their production facility or sipped their mead while chatting with the staff? If not, get thee to Washington Avenue.


Located at 51 Washington Ave. in Portland, Maine Mead Works' new facility houses all aspects of their production, from brewing to aging, bottling and shipping. There's also a retail store and a tasting room (my favorite part).


For those of you who think you don't like mead but are willing to have your minds changed, head on down to the meadery on a Saturday between 12 and 5pm. There, you can sample the line of Maine Mead Works' mead, from the Semi-sweet to the Dry Hopped, from the Lavender to the Special Reserve (if you're lucky). Their honey wine is a lot lighter, thinner, and more delicate than the thick, syrupy, dessert mead that you may have had.


My favorite variety is the Dry Hopped Mead, where they add Cascade hops (the ones used in Sierra Nevada Pale Ale) to the sweet mead, giving it a distinct herby flavor.

Their mead is great on its own, but would pair well with lighter dishes and seafood. It makes great gifts, as it is uniquely Maine, made with all local honey, fruit and herbs. And the staff are about the friendliest people you could hope to meet, happy to answer any of your questions about the fermenting process and their patent pending custom equipment.


Maine Mead Works is a great place to spend a while, as their new space is very posh and inviting, whether you are entertaining out-of-town guests or just want another reason to be proud of the great vendors we have here in Portland.

Maple Bacon Biscuit Bake

This breakfast bake is great for two reasons. First, the obvious one: maple bacon. Say no more. Second, the buttermilk Bakewell Cream biscuits. Light, fluffy, yet flaky, and crispy on top.


Now does this say "Maine breakfast" or what? Maine maple syrup and Bakewell Cream. For those of you not in Maine or New England, Bakewell Cream is a leavening agent made in Bangor, Maine and the defining ingredient in these traditional biscuits.


So to make this delightful brunch treat, you spread a mixture of cooked, chopped bacon, maple syrup, melted butter, brown sugar, and a little flour in the bottom of a baking dish. Then you drop large tablespoons of biscuit dough on top of the bacon syrup mixture and bake it all up.

 When the biscuits are browned, you invert the pan onto a serving plate and all the melty, sugary goodness drools out on top of the biscuits.


Or at least that's how it's supposed to go. The biscuits turned out great, but for whatever reason, the bacon syrup mixture wasn't very liquidy. It kind of burned into the bottom of the pan and stayed there when I turned the biscuits out. Eek! But no complaints from the group of men I fed these to.


I've actually had this same problem with the Monkey Bread I made from King Arthur Flour too. I was expecting more of a syrup than a hardened sugar topping. Hmmm... anyone have any ideas what's going on?


Regardless, this recipe is awesome- for the biscuits alone! But top anything with a bacon syrup mixture, and I'm sold. If you're in New England, pick up some Bakewell Cream and give these biscuits a whirl, so you understand the magic.