The Impatient Chef Can't Sit Still at Humble Spirit, McMinnville, Oregon

Disclaimer:  The series "The Impatient Chef Can't Sit Still" is an exploration of food found while traveling.  The reviews are usually based on a single visit, so remember that your mileage will vary.  

The Coffee

The Impatient Chef was on his way back from the Oregon Coast (with wife riding shotgun) in early January, and was on the prowl for a good, unexplored restaurant. Apple Maps had a few suggestions, and Humble Spirit seemed to be at the right distance away for a late morning brunch.

Located in Downtown McMinnville, this elegant, mildly upscale American restaurant oozes with Willamette Valley charm. McMinnville is in the heart of Oregon wine country, and sports a thriving downtown peppered with wineries, art and restaurants. We parked, and hobbled in where we were greeted like we had just entered an art gallery. That is not a bad thing. In fact, it was pleasant and friendly. That vibe carried over to the food and service. Our waitress was charming and talkative (which we like), and she helped steer us to the right food. She also explained that the restaurant started from two regenerative farms, which The Impatient Chef heartily endorses.

The first order of business was coffee. Since it arrives first, it is sometimes possible to guess at the quality of the food by how good the coffee is. In this case it was excellent. Expectations were high.

The Impatient Chef and Wife ordered the Corned Beef Hash, and the Dungeness Crab Benedict. The Impatient Chef often splits meals to avoid looking like he swallowed a basketball rather than merely a football.

The Hash

The Hash: The corned beef was cut into chunks, not pulled apart like it normally is. It did not have the flavor you would normally expect, yet it was excellent and slightly crispy, with a baked egg in the center. Their house-made hot sauce goes well with it.

The Benedict

The Benedict: Served on a crab cake instead of English muffin with greens over top,along with radish strips. The Hollandaise is delicate, and does not overpower the crab. The flavor did not grab The Impatient Chef by the lapels and shake him about for a bit, but it did run its fingers through his hair and ask him out for a date. Since The Impatient Chef is happily married, he settled for eating it instead. It didn't seem to mind. 

The Sauce

So, if you go to McMinnville, Oregon, do yourself a favor, and stop by Humble Spirit.

Thanks for reading!

—The Impatient Chef

The Impatient Chef Recipe: Eggplant Parmesan

Eggplant Parmesan

The Impatient Chef has avoided eggplant parmesan for well over thirty years.  Some bad, nay, traumatic, experiences were to blame, but he got a bug recently, and decided to give it another go.  By all reports, it was a nummy success.  

Eggplant is a vegetable in the ugh family of icky round things in the bitterus spititoutis species of flora that most people avoid.  It has a tendency toward becoming slimy and unpleasant when cooked, yet it is inedible when raw.  How can this be avoided?

Salt.

Salt is the key to yummy eggplant.  We're not talking about light sprinkling, though.  More like a thin coating, followed by a rest period where water drains off, along with the yuck factor.  The mistake The Impatient Chef made in the past was to not use enough salt.  

Noodles.

While making you own noodles can be rewarding and delicious, remember that this is The Impatient Chef you are reading.  As such, when you come home after a long day at work, and young Billy brought in a baby raccoon, and momma raccoon is gnawing her way through the heating ducts while the Spousal Unit posting about chemtrails on Facebook, and you still want to make something extraordinary, you are advised to leave the noodles to someone else.  There are great, dried spaghetti noodles out there.  They have a higher price, but you deserve it.  Concentrate on the eggplant, and don't make this your entire evening.  Sit.  Have a treat.  There's a good boy.  

Sauce.

If you want to make homemade spaghetti sauce, do it the day before, and heat it up slowly when you put on the spaghetti water.  If you don’t feel like it, use some from a jar.  The Impatient Chef recommends Trader Joe’s Organic Marinara.  This recipe is not about the sauce, but the Trader Joe’s sauce was divine with it.  

Why make it the day before?  Spaghetti sauce benefits from a long simmer.  The Impatient Chef remembers anecdotes from neighborhood kids at his grandparent's home near Philadelphia that recounted that Italian mothers would cook a spaghetti sauce all day to get all of the flavors to balance right.  Cooking it for a half an hour after all of the ingredients have been added, and placing it in the refrigerator for a day has largely the same effect.  The Impatient Chef will publish a spaghetti sauce at some point soon.  It will be impatient, though.  

The Importance of Impatience.

This is the manifesto for The Impatient Chef.  The humor and third-person schtick aside, this blog (maybe someday a cookbook) exists to give tips to busy people for making comforting food without all the fuss, and to hone in on what parts of any particular dish are worth fussing over.  Oh, there's the restaurant reviews too, but that's not what we're talking about here.  If you want to fuss, by all means, do so.  But, be aware that you can break the chains that bind you to the stove, and still make delicious stuff.

Notes on deep frying.

Deep frying is divine.  If you are concerned about fat, eat less of it.  Eating less of a yummy dish is easily superior to eating more of something uninspiring.  

Feeds 2 people with leftovers.

Ingredients:

• 1 12oz eggplant, skin removed and sliced into 3/8” medallions (use the black, egg-shaped ones)
• 1 egg
• 4 tbsp four 
• 1 cup panko
• 2 tbsp cornstarch 
• 3 tbsp kosher salt
• 1 tsp pepper
• 4 oz fresh mozzarella cheese, shredded
• High heat frying oil
• Spaghetti sauce
• Spaghetti 
• Parmesan cheese 

Directions:

1. Salt the eggplant using 1 tbsp plus 2 tsp salt.  Toss them in a mixing bowl, and place them on a wire rack with a baking sheet underneath, and let them sit for 40 minutes.
2. After 30 minutes, start the spaghetti water. Also start the sauce heating on low.  Stir occasionally. 
3. Get out 3 bowls.  In one, put the flour.  In the next, beat the egg, and in the last add the panko, cornstarch, and remaining salt, plus the pepper. 
4. After 10 more minutes, pat the eggplant medallions dry with a paper towel. Also start the oil heating. You can use Dutch oven, or a high-sided cast iron skillet.  Do not use a shallow pan.  There should be about an inch of oil in the pan. The frying temperature is 360 degrees. Use a thermometer, or, better yet a deep fat fryer with temperature control. DO NOT USE AN AIR FRYER. 
5. Bread the eggplant by coating the medallions in the flour, then the egg, and the then the panko mixture. Put them back onto the wire rack. 
6. Remember to add the spaghetti when the water boils. Make sure it does not stick together.  You want to have everything get done at the same time.  
7. Fry the breaded eggplant until it is golden brown on both sides, about 4 to 5 minutes. Place the medallions onto a baking sheet. Add a little sauce to the top of each one. Cover them with the mozzarella. Broil until the cheese is melted. 
8. Drain the spaghetti.  
9. Serve the eggplant on a plate with the spaghetti, spreading some sauce over everything. Add Parmesan cheese to taste.

Enjoy.  

Thanks for reading!

--The Impatient Chef

The Impatient Chef Can’t Sit Still at Denizens Café, Portland

The Impatient Chef finds comfort in comfort food in the comfort of a breakfast and lunch nook comfortably ensconced on NE Sandy Blvd in Portland, Oregon.  

"Can't Sit Still" is a series of road food finds where a single meal is reviewed.  They do not reflect a restaurant's entire menu, or the establishment as a whole.  

A Comfortable Impatient Chef at Denizens

Denizins is a little gem hidden in an unassuming strip of mid-century storefronts that no one would blame you for driving past without noticing. The does NOT mean you should. Allow The Impatient Chef to expound. The food is good, as was the service, but the place looks like it exists on a shoestring budget. Your job, dear reader, is to fatten that budget up with repeated patronage if you are able.

Some notable observations:  Ethos - fostering community through local food, not buying the cheapest ingredients from the warehouse.  The Impatient Chef endorses this approach.  Quality Ingredients - simple food shines brightest with better ingredients.  Price - the prices are reasonable, considering the quality of the ingredients.  

The Counter 

The breakfast menu consists of English Muffin sandwiches and pancakes, plus a small assortment of pastries from Marcie Bakery.  They also serve Rocky Butte Coffee.  

The lone staff member greeted The Impatient Chef and wife upon entry, and helped us through the menu options.  The Impatient Chef ordered the Morning Jumpstart (sausage or ham with cheese, egg, and jalapeños), and wife ordered the Top of the Morning (sausage or ham with egg, cheese, spinach, mushrooms, and pickled red onion).  We also split two of the pastries:  A chocolate croissant and a marionberry/cream cheese croissant.  

The Muffs

The sandwiches were delicious.  They are not haute cuisine, but they are solid, American breakfast grub a notch or two above the grade.  As mentioned before (multiple times), this is breakfast comfort food.  The muffins were not dry, which, in less capable hands, is often a problem.  The jalapeños seemed grilled, which was an excellent choice over the pickled variety for this application.

The croissants were okay.  The chocolate version needed more chocolate.  The Impatient Chef's half had some in two bites out of seven.  

Dessert

The coffee had a pronounced, nutty flavor.  Very unique.  We never had Rocky Butte Coffee before.  More exploration is required.  

Rocky Butte is a cinder cone left over from the area's volcanic past, and a reminder that past can become present with a mere twitch of the Earth's crust.  So, enjoy good food now.  

The Impatient Chef's overall impression thus far is that they care about what they do, and about their community.  We need more of that in this world.  Next: Go there for lunch or brunch.  Watch this space for the update.  

Thanks!

The Impatient Chef.

The Impatient Chef Recipe: Ham and Grits with Red-Eye Gravy

"Them Damn Grits" - George Carlin

The Impatient Chef has presented a couple similar recipes in the past.  The first was Blue Grits with Ham and Red-Eye Gravy, and the second was Cadillac Ham and Grits with Red-Eye Gravy.  The first is a decent recipe, but The Impatient Chef has moved away from that style of gravy for this dish because the version presented here is simply better, and it's highly Impatient.  The second recipe was done on a lark, and while the lark lived to tell the tale, it is not something one would want to do all the time unless money was not an object, and, again, this recipe is better.  

Notes on ham:  If you have a honest-to-goodness butcher shop in town, hie ye thither to procure your ham.  The Impatient Chef has found that the good hams are not in the supermarket.  An exception is Beeler's ham, which can be found in natural food stores.  

This is a great dish for leftover ham after a holiday meal. You can save ham fat, and you also can pick all of the yummy ham scraps off of the bones.  What?!?  You got a boneless ham?!?  Shame on you.

With practice, you should be able to get all of the ingredients done at the same time, which is important so that it goes together hot. 

The Impatient Chef uses Bob's Red Mill White Grits.  They get the job done with style.  If you dare, you can use Anson Mills Antibellum Coarse White Grits.  However, they are decidedly not Impatient, and you have to soak them overnight.  They are fabulous, though.

Serves 2.  You can get this breakfast done in less than fifteen minutes with a little practice.

Ingredients:

• 1/2 cup chopped ham fat scraps (substitute with 2 tbsp bacon grease if necessary) 
• 1 well-packed cup cubed ham 
• 1/2 cup Bob’s Red Mill white grits 
• 3/4 tsp salt
• 1/2 tsp freshly ground black pepper
• 2 dashes cayenne pepper 
• 1 tablespoon butter 
• 1/2 cup brewed coffee 

Directions:

1. Make coffee. Reserve 1/2 cup, into which you will add 2 dashes of cayenne pepper. 
2. Render the ham fat in a medium iron skillet on medium high heat until there is enough grease in the pan to fry the ham. If you are using bacon grease, or (shudder) vegetable oil, you can skip this step. 
3. While the fat is rendering, cook grits. In a small saucepan, add 2 cups of water, and bring to a boil. Add the grits and stir. When they return to a boil, lower heat until they barely simmer. Cover, and stir every 30 seconds at minimum. Be careful to stir the bottom of the pan because they will stick.  
4. Remove the ham fat scraps from the skillet (do not discard the oil), and add the ham. Fry the ham, stirring them often, until they start to brown. You want a nice fond in the bottom of the pan. 
5. When the grits are almost done, add the butter, salt, and pepper. Stir.  You can use less salt if you are so inclined.
6. When the ham is browned, remove from pan. Set aside in a bowl. 
7. Return the pan to the heat. Stir the coffee to suspend the cayenne. and add it to the pan, Stir with a flat end wooden spoon to deglaze, scraping the bottom to suspend the fond in the coffee. Turn off the heat. You now have red-eye gravy. 
8. Turn off the heat for the grits as well. 
9. Divide the grits into two bowls. Add ham over top. Swirl the red-eye gravy in the pan, and then pour half of it over each bowl. 
10. Serve.

The Impatient Chef Presents: Thanksgiving for Old Farts

Was this Trip Really Necessary?

In keeping with all of the websites and blogs that exploit Thanksgiving, The Impatient Chef offers a decidedly impatient entry into the glut of cooking advice currently coming out of your ears. While there is absolutely nothing new to what The Impatient Chef will serve to you here upon this platter of electrons dancing across your computer screen, there seems to be one niche woefully underserved by the masses of overstuffed advice being cooked up this holiday season: Cooking only what you need to.  

Case in Point: Pies. If you are an old fart like The Impatient Chef (and The Spousal Unit), and unless you really enjoy making pies, you will want someone else to make them. This doesn’t mean going down to the Safeway and buying some Betty Cracker nonsense. Remember, The Impatient Chef is all about good food. Unless you live in Themiddleofnowhereastan, there is most likely a local business, or at least a neighbor, that makes pies. Either would make you a better pie, or even a slice or two, better than the stupormarket.

This year, The Impatient Chef stopped in at Packer Orchards in Oregon’s Hood River Valley, and bought an apple pie, and a pumpkin pie. Both are made on the premises, and the fillings are made from produce grown either by them or by other local farmers. They were not cheap, but for two pies per year, it’s doable.

If you really want to bake the pies, farm out some of the rest of the meal. You don’t deserve to be cooking for two days, only to be deserted for a football game with a disaster in the kitchen. THIS WILL NOT STAND.

This diatribe is not about the recipes. The Impatient Chef does not care what you make, only about whether you have some of your day left over to enjoy with family. These recipes are suggestions for how to do things quickly, and yet still be yummy.  

Note for equipment being used: Despite decades of adherence to cast iron pans, The Impatient Chef has become a big fan of dishwashers. If you buy equipment, such as a multicooker, crockpot, air fryer, etc. and the innards you remove to wash are not dishwasher safe, return them immediately to the store. They are not saving you time and effort. Cast iron will always be on the stove, but everything else had better fit into the dishwasher.

Thanksgiving with the Impatient Chef 2024.

The Impatient Chef found a turkey breast at a natural food store, and a ham from a local butcher shop. An entire turkey is unnecessary. Last year, we bought a single turkey thigh. That gave us a meal, then turkey and gravy over bread the next day. 

The day before.

Salt the Turkey

The Impatient Chef spatchcocked the breast, and used about 2 tbsp of kosher salt to coat all sides. Use about 1 teaspoon per pound of bird.

That’s it. Pre-Thanksgiving prep work done.

Okay, if you must make cranberry relish, make that the day before too.

Cranberry Relish:

Ingredients: 

• 1 lb. fresh cranberries 
• 1 orange. 
• 1/2 cup walnuts 
• 3/4 cup sugar

Directions:

Peel half of the orange with a vegetable peeler or paring knife. You don’t want much of the rind underneath. Remove the rest of the rind, and throw it into the compost. Only half of the peel is required for the recipe. Cut the rest of the orange into chunks. 

Ready for Pulverization

Using a meat grinder with the medium to small holes, grind cranberries, orange rind, and walnuts into a bowl, preferably one that has a lid. The Impatient Chef uses a Kitchen Aid attachment. Add the sugar, and stir to combine. Put the lid on, and refrigerate overnight.

Note the Hole Sizes (If you can)

Relish the Relish

Thanksgiving Day.

Note on the ingredients: Your gathering size may require different amounts, so amounts will differ. This will feed up to 6.

Cooking on Thanksgiving:

Roast the pre-salted bird (or parts thereof): 

• Give yourself plenty of time. The Impatient Chef has spatchcocked a whole turkey on occasion to speed up the roasting. The great thing about this method is that you can mound up the stuffing in the pan about half way through cooking, along with some turkey broth, and place the spatchcocked turkey over top. Just keep the stuffing from drying out. There are other resources for cooking times for turkey, spatchcocked or not. Consult them for times.

Steam (or lightly piss off) one vegetable: 2 dismembered broccoli florets in our case, with olive oil drizzled over top when served.

Make mashed potatoes:

Ingredients:

• 1lb. cubed Yukon Gold potatoes 
• 4 tbsp butter (The Impatient Chef does not care if it is salted or unsalted) 
• 1/2 cup whole milk (2% or skim may be substituted, but you will have to add more butter to make the potatoes properly creamy) 
• Salt and ground white pepper to taste 

Directions:

• You know how to make mashed potatoes. Don’t make The Impatient Chef come over there. 

Make the Stuffing (The Impatient Chef does not call it “dressing” because he does not put it on a salad):

Get Stuffed

Ingredients:

• 24 oz cubed bread, toasted if you can get it. (This recipe will work with as little as 16 oz)
• 1 stalk of celery, chopped 
• A few sprigs of fresh sage (or dried if that is what you have), chopped, about 1.5 tbsp. 
• 1 tsp fresh savory, chopped (optional).  Dry can be used as well.
• 1 small onion, diced
• 2 cups turkey (or chicken) broth 
• Salt and ground black pepper to taste 
• 4 tbsp butter

Directions:

An optional, but useful, step is to grind the herbs in a mortar and pestle until they are well-bruised.

Herbs Having a Bad Day

In a 2 qt. sauce pan, over medium heat, sauté the onion and celery in the butter until the onions are translucent and fragrant.  Add the herbs, and sauté for an additional minute.  Add the broth and the salt and pepper.  Bring to a boil.  Simmer for 1 minute to join the flavors in holy matrimony, and then remove from heat.  Allow it to cool before adding to the bread cubes.  This is the decidedly non-impatient portion of the meal, but you can do it early in the day, and allow it to cool in the refrigerator.   

Reserve 1/2 cup of the broth for insurance purposes - insurance against dryness.  Drizzle the rest of broth (with the onion, celery and herbs) over the bread cubes.  Toss the bread cubes to moisten them, take a small sip of your martini, and then either ram this stuff into the poor bird, bake it in a separate, covered baking pan, or place the spatchcocked turkey over it about half way through roasting.  Just remember to add the broth mixture within a few minutes of baking.  The Impatient Chef doesn’t care which method you use.  Just make sure that it is not dry by the end.  Use the reserved liquid as necessary during the baking process.  If not needed, you can use it in the gravy.  

Gravy.

You can do this.  

You can use pan drippings if you have them, or turkey broth from bouillons or bases.  You can use a combination of drippings and broths.  Deglazing a baking pan to get the yum off of the bottom is truly a rewarding experience, as long as what is there is not a bunch of mush.  The Impatient Chef likes Penseys Spices Turkey Base.  You will want a minimum of 4 cups of gravy to slather over everything.  

For Gravy, The Impatient Chef's method is to double the roux.  When he was attending the cookin' school way back in the Dawn of Time, he learned that the butter to flour ratio was not set in concrete, like, say, one's feet are before being tossed into the drink by the mob.  The Impatient Chef is looking for a consistency, not a ratio.  Start with 1.5 tablespoons of butter for each cup of liquid, and the add two tablespoons of flour for each tablespoon of butter.  A little more butter can be added if it is too dry.  It should form mounds in the pan, but not be crumbly.  There should be enough butter for the roux to spread out slightly after stirring.  The standard roux is thinner, but this one works, and uses less butter.  

The Impatient Chef makes roux in a separate pan so that he can heat up the broth while it is rouxing (Yes.  That word is made up).  The roux is then added to the sauce pan with the gravy, and whisked in.  

So, on low heat, melt the butter.  When it is melted, add the four and stir.  Check consistency, and adjust, then stir continuously until the roux gets shiny on top, spreads out easily, and is past its curdled looking stage.  If you see it browning on the bottom, turn down the heat.  If you are using an electric stove, God help you.  Unless it's induction.  If you are using the proper temperature, it should take about 5 minutes to make the roux.  

TheStages of Roux

Add to the broth, and whisk.  Bring to a boil to thicken.  

 Serving.

Line 'em up and move 'em out.  

The Meal is Served

The broccoli had to go into a separate bowl because there was no room on the plate. That's Thanksgiving for you.

Conclusion:

The Impatient Chef has been cooking on Thanksgiving since the 1980's, and has plenty of experience in what to do, and what not to do (for God's Sake, don't deep fry a duck).  The Impatient Chef learns from his mistakes.  Many of those mistakes involve never actually sitting down with folks at the table except for during the meal.  With age, we humans are less Red Bull, and more Milk of Magnesia.  We have less energy.  Using it for the important parts of a day with family may or may not include being in the kitchen all day.  If you love making the big meal, and then cleaning it up after, have at it.  Do it with gusto.  But, if you don't, and really want to tell everyone that you want to sip tea with them in the living room instead of making a 10-course meal plus desserts, you have The Impatient Chef's blessing.  

The Impatient Chef hopes this was enlightening, or at least gives you the wherewithal to tell the relatives that you get some time out of the kitchen too, dammit! If they don’t like it, make them cook next year. You can go hit a nice Chinese restaurant instead.  

Thanks for reading!

--The Impatient Chef

The Impatient Chef Presents: The Ultimate Chili Dog

Once upon a time, there was a hot dog and ice cream joint in Cascade Locks, Oregon called Locks of Dogs and Treats.  The Impatient Chef reviewed them back in 2018.  While the name was a tad silly, the food was revelatory in its simplicity and yum factor.  Unfortunately, they did not make it through the pandemic, so the only way to have one of their loaded chili dogs was to recreate it.  

The Dog Lives!

Please note: The Impatient Chef is comforted greatly by comfort food, and as mentioned before, is impatient. This recipe puts those two ingredients together, and throws in some Southern charm to come up with what is basically a Frito Pie on a hot dog.

The object was to get as close to the taste I remember, and, here's the key, do it impatiently.  

Here goes:  

Serves 4.

Ingredients:

• 3 cans of the chili you like the most.   This recipe uses canned chili.  Deal with it.  
• 4 Hebrew National Beef Kosher Hot Dogs
• Grated cheddar 
• Grated pepper jack
• Fritos
• Sliced Jalapeños 
• 3 standard sized hot dogs, sliced (if necessary)
• Hot dog buns 

Equipment:

• A crockpot
• Paper serving dishes 

Directions:

A few hours before you want to serve, put the chili in the crockpot, and add the hot dogs.  The second time The Impatient Chef frequented Locks of Dogs and Treats, he noticed a touch of genius in the chili: small slices of hot dogs.  To recreate this, if your chili does not have sliced dogs in it, slice the 3 standard sized hot dogs somewhat thinly, no more than 1/4" thick.  Add them to the crockpot, and stir them in.  

The Impatient Chef uses an older one with three settings: off, low, and high.  Use high, or the equivalent on yours.  Stir occasionally.  No burning allowed.  

When the chili and dogs are hot through and through (remember, these are large hot dogs, so it will take longer to heat them), prepare your other ingredients.  

Grate the cheeses and mix them together in a bowl.  There are no amounts given because you can use as much (to a point) or as little as you want.  Slice the Jalepeños.  The Impatient Chef used whole pickled jalapeños from a Mexican grocery store, and sliced them.  You can use pre-sliced jalapeños if you want.  The Impatient Chef prefers Mezzetta Sliced Hot Jalapeños.  

The Other Ones

Serve.  

The Impatient Chef gritted his teeth on this one:  Use rectangle paper food trays, the kind with red and white checkers on the bottom, unless you have rectangular dishes of the right size.  

The Impatient Chef Models the Tray in the Back Yard

First, open the bun wide (say ah), and insert the dog. Note the correctly sized slice of hot dog that tagged along with its larger cousin.

The Dog at Rest

Next, ladle the chili liberally over the dog.  You want to cover the whole bun, and some should slop over the sides into the tray.  Don't skimp.  Then, throw on a mitten full of cheese, some Fritos, and about 10 Jalapeño slices.  

The Real McCoy at Locks of Dogs and Treats from 2018

Eat.  

You deserve it.

The Impatient Chef

The Impatient Chef Can't Sit Still at Uncle Earl's BBQ Bistro

Uncle Earl's Cart

There’s a food cart pod just off of SE 82nd Ave in Portland, Oregon. A side street called SE Lafayette heads off at a right angle just before SE Powell Blvd heading north. The Impatient Chef happened to see it on my way home from Pensey’s Spices and a restaurant supply store where he bought a cast iron tortilla press. Tacos may ensue. The cart pod, called Collective Oregon Eateries, seemed inviting enough, so The Impatient Chef parked, and got out of the car. That’s when the sweet smell of smoked BBQ hit him. That smell is hard to resist, so The Impatient Chef made a bee line to the source, which is Uncle Earl’s BBQ Bistro. 

Uncle Earl gave me a wave when The Impatient Chef took a picture (above) of his cart to send it the Spousal Unit to let her know that there was BBQ afoot. She was agreeable, so The Impatient Chef ordered. Brisket was the obvious starting place. Brisket is key to knowing whether a BBQ joint knows its business. Rounding out the meal were pulled pork, and a half a chicken. Our sides were mac and cheese, and corn bread muffins. 

The Menu

  After a ten minute wait, The Impatient Chef had a bag of BBQ to take home. 

Which The Impatient Chef did. 

This is where it gets complicated. Fear not. The outcome was satisfying.

The Impatient Chef doesn’t answer phone calls while driving, yet Uncle Earl tried to call to say that he had forgotten the pulled pork. The voicemail was waiting once ensconced in the garage.  Arrangements were made arrangements to pick it up later.

So, missing the pulled pork, we dove in.    

The Impatient Chef has taken better pictures than this

The Brisket.

Cut-it-with-a-fork tender, juicy, and smokey, it really was the star of the show. There is no doubt that Uncle Earl knows brisket inside and out. There really is not much more to say about it. Gather your best superlatives in a basket and fling them at it. See what sticks.

The Chicken.

Chicken is a demanding bird. Prone to dryness, and yet hard to cook all the way through without becoming dry, it’s easy to cluck it up. This chicken was midrange moist, but not dry. The rub was nicely spiced with a satisfying amount of smoke, and it went well with the BBQ sauce provided.

Mac and Cheese.

Much better than The Impatient Chef has gotten from other BBQ places. It is not an afterthought. It even has a little smoke to it. It is not the gloppy style. The macaroni had a good coating, enough to hold everything together, but not too much. Some types of mac an cheese demand a lot of sauce, but The Impatient Chef thinks that Uncle Earl’s would suffer from too much. It has a fairly intense flavor. Too much sauce could overpower the noodles. 

Corn Bread Muffins

Corn bread tends to be dry, and this was no exception. It was, however, moister than most, and The Impatient Chef could eat it without butter or honey. In the South, there is a distinction between corn bread and what is derisively called “Johnny Cake”, which is dry and requires copious amounts of butter to make it palatable. This was not Johnny Cake. Lighter in color than many an inedible corn bread muffin that The Impatient Chef has had in the past (Yes, The Impatient Chef is talking to you, Black Bear Diner), it had a fresh, corny (not corn-mealy) flavor, with what looks like a small amount of diced red peppers inside. 

Pulled Pork.

After finishing the meal, we drove back out to the cart to pick up the pulled pork. The Impatient Chef knows that mistakes happen, but Uncle Earl wasn’t giving himself any slack. He apologized a number of times, and threw in some ribs to sweeten the deal. Like the brisket, the pulled pork was a masterwork of smoked meats. Tender and juicy with all the appropriate superlatives flung at it, it shines brightly between the teeth. 

Ribs

The bonus ribs were likewise excellent. Not wanting to be too repetitious, The Impatient Chef will leave it at that. 

If you are in the area, follow your nose from 82nd and Lafayette Street, and settle in for some excellent BBQ. Try not to notice the self-inflicted boot print on Uncle Earl’s back side. He won’t be forgetting your pulled pork.

Thanks for reading! 

The Impatient Chef