The Impatient Chef Presents: Rethinking Breakfast

 Breakfast Kills!

Breakfast kills?  Really?  It is to this pedantic start The Impatient Chef embarks on a journey into the heart  of an Asian grocery store in Portland, Oregon, to uncover the noodle of his dreams, and reinvent breakfast that has no bacon (gasp!), eggs, hash browns, or toast, but is full of scallions, garlic, tofu, peppers, and, yes, noodles.  Did I mention dashi?

I heard a talk by John Robbins, a vegetarian and animal rights evangelist, in the 1990's.  One of his topics was breakfast.  The line that I found memorable was about an older woman in the hospital after barely surviving a massive heart attack "happily eating the exact same bacon and eggs breakfast that put her there in the first place."  I think about that every time I have a bacon and eggs breakfast.

Around the same time, I read that a greater percentage of patients survived the aftermath of the atomic bombings of Hiroshima, and Nagasaki if the hospitals served miso soup.  Does that claim have a grain of truth in it?  The Impatient Chef will not venture a guess, but miso, which is a fermented bean paste, has a stellar reputation for its healthy benefits.  Whether it can stave off radiation sickness is a long shot, but the seedling was planted, and without any clue of how to do it, The Impatient Chef made soup that everyone but him disliked, and made that soup often for 15 years.  

That is the soup you will NOT be reading about herein.  

The soup technique was improved about four years ago after an episode of "Good Eats" with Alton Brown where he discussed Asian cuisine, and the specifically art of making dashi.  Later, Chef David Chang spoke on a Netflix special called "Mind of a Chef" of his soup for breakfast routine.  The Impatient Chef snatched those ideas and ran with them out of the building, down the street (tripping over the curb), and to the store for ingredients.  

The Impatient Chef (being very impatient) tried making dashi at home, but when a granulated version showed up at a restaurant supply store in The Dalles, Oregon, that seemed to be the way to go.

Dashi, simply, is a fish broth made up of soaked seaweed (kombu), and dried and fermented fish called bonito flakes, which are boiled after the seaweed is removed.  

As foretold in the first paragraph, The Impatient Chef visited the Asian grocery store to find some more of the granulated Dashi, and some noodles.  I finally read the label.  The ingredients:  Salt, salt, salt, more salt, bonito, kombu.  Approaching 60, The Impatient Chef would also like to approach 70, or maybe even 80 someday, so the blood pressure cuff frowns mightily upon the overly salted.

Salt is a joyful sin.  

Sigh...

The Asian grocery was a larger one, nestled in Southeast Portland just off of SE 82nd Ave.  It was hard to stop pulling things from the shelves, and throwing them into the cart, but I managed to get our for under $200.00.  I bought a few different sauces and some ingredients to make dashi.  I also bought some pre-made potstickers, some Thai peppers, lotus root, and lemongrass.  

The noodle aisle was of particular joy.  I like the thin Somen noodles best, and they had them aplenty.  I picked up about 4 large packs of them, along with other assorted egg and rice noodles. 

The Haul

The amount of salt in many of the canned sauces was astounding.  I bought only those that could be used in small amounts.  In a move that is bound to test the limits of The Impatient Chef's infamously limited patience, I started formulating a plan to make homemade broths to use instead of bouillon, again to limit salt.  The trick will be to boil the bones and meat scraps from other meals, rather than boiling down a whole chicken, or the like.  Beef bones, smoked ham hocks, or oxtail may be another route.  

The Broth.  

Perfecting a broth that tastes good with or without miso was a challenge.  Why without miso?  Because The Impatient Chef's wife does not like it.  Also, dashi is a strong taste.  The question was:  How to make it palatable to western taste buds.  There are a few methods, all of which were tried.  

1. Spicy:  Hot peppers, hot sauces, hot chili oil, garlic-chili paste, sriracha, 
2. Overpower it:  aromatics, various vinegars, Worcestershire Sauce, fish sauce, oyster sauce, hoisin sauce, various bouillons.
3. Sweet:  Tomatoes, honey, sugar, mirin.
4. Salty:  Soy sauce, yuzu ponzu, MSG, kosher salt.

In the end, it took a little of all of them in moderation, and, obviously, not all of the above at the same time.  

The method.

My breakfast soup is more of a method than a recipe.  It tastes different, either slightly or wildly, each time.  This keeps it from getting boring, and it makes cooking it more interesting.  

1. Make dashi ahead of time.  For 1 quart, I soak a 1" x 8" strip of kombu for a half an hour in a quart of water, and then bring it slowly to a boil over medium heat.  Once boiling, I remove the kombu, lower the heat, and add 1/4 cup of loosely packed bonito flakes, and simmer for 10 minutes.  It then gets poured through a fine mesh strainer into a canning jar.  Keep it refrigerated until use.   
   
   

   

   Bonito Flakes

   

   Dashi

   
   
2. Cook noodles.  Can be ahead of time.  I keep them covered with water in containers in the refrigerator. 
3. Prepare aromatics.  I like scallions, celery, garlic, some kind of of hot chili (I remove the seeds and membrane so that it's not too spicy for others in the household), and mushrooms - usually crimini and shiitake, and maybe some lemongrass if I have some.
4. Sauté them in sesame oil.
5. Add one to two of:  Cabbage, snow peas, zucchini.  Sauté a little more.
6. Add dashi.  Taste.  The flavor should not be too strong.  Adjust liquid level if necessary by adding water.  I will usually use half a quart, and use water to make the difference.  You can use less for a lighter taste.
7. Bring to a boil.  Taste
8. Add soy sauce, and bouillon (usually chicken, beef, mushroom, vegetable, or pork).  Taste.  Add more if necessary.  
9. Add cubed tofu, ground black or white pepper.  
10. Fill in the holes in the broth flavor.  Different ingredients make different changes to the broth.  It takes practice, but learn which sauces work with different bouillons, or with plain dashi.  Try fish sauce, mirin, chili pastes, etc.  Find what taste floats your boat.  The Impatient Chef like big flavor - massive flavor - the kind of flavor that slams you in the face like it's a jilted wife wielding a cast iron frying pan.  TONG!  Thud. 
11. Boil until the veggies are done.  
12. The noodles should be done and drained by this time.  Fill your bowl about 1/4 full with noodles.  Ladle the soup over them.  
13. At the table: Add a tablespoon of miso, and mix.  It tends to not stir in easily, so it's best to mush it against the side of the bowl, and then stir it in.  Add Chili oil if you dare.  
14. Optional additions: egg drop; 1/2 half of a warm, hard boiled egg in each bowl; corn starch to thicken; a few drops of toasted sesame oil in each bowl.  
15. Enjoy.

Thanks for reading.

Gary L. Quay

--The Impatient Chef

The Impatient Chef Recipe: Khao Soi Soup

The Impatient Chef loves spicy food, and holds a special place in his deteriorated stomach lining for Thai food.  I have often wanted to make a good Khao Soi Soup after having some (repeatedly) at a little food cart called Lampoei's Thai Kitchen in Hood River, Oregon.  That unassuming food cart set a high bar for deliciousness, so duplicating it would be a challenge.  

Here goes:

Ingredients:

• 4 ounces thin wheat noodles, 8oz small wontons, or 2 cups of cooked rice. I like the really thin wheat Somen noodles.  
• 1 1/2 tablespoons coconut oil 
• 4 scallions, thinly sliced. Keep the greens separate. 
• 2 tablespoons chopped lemongrass 
• 2 garlic cloves, minced 
• 3 tablespoons Thai Red Curry Paste. I like Thai & True, but Thai Kitchen will work. 
• 1/2 teaspoon ground turmeric 
• 1 pinch cardamom 
• 14-ounce can coconut milk 
• Chicken bouillon to make one cup (I like Better than Bouillon) 
• 1 thinly sliced red bell pepper (I have used Anaheim Peppers as well) 
• 2 tablespoons fish sauce 
• 2 tablespoons soy sauce 
• 2 tablespoons dark brown sugar, 
• 1 tablespoon chili garlic sauce. 
• 8 ounces raw shrimp, medium sized. 
• Juice of 1/2 lime 
• Fresh Thai basil 
• Hot Chili Oil (optional) 
• Chili crisp (optional) 

Directions:

1. Shell and devein the shrimp. In a small sauce pan, cover the shells with water, and boil for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. Then, reduce the broth until you have 1 cup. Add chicken bouillon. Set aside. 
2. Prep vegetables and aromatics. Place them in bowls near the stove. Keep garlic separate from the rest. 
3. Cook the noodles (wontons, or rice) according to directions. I like the the really thin wheat vermicelli noodles, but ramen, or udon will do in a pinch. Try to have them finished at the same time as the soup. 
4. In a medium soup pot, melt coconut oil over medium heat. Add scallions (without the greens) and lemongrass. Sauté until softened, and barely browning on the edges. Add garlic, and sauté 1 minute, stirring continuously. 
5. Stir in the red curry paste, turmeric, and the cardamom. Sauté for 1minute, stirring constantly. 
6. Stir in the coconut milk, chicken/shrimp broth, and bring to a simmer, stirring. Once simmering, add the bell pepper, fish sauce, sugar, soy sauce and chili garlic sauce. Simmer until the peppers are barely done. They should not be soggy. 
7. Add the shrimp, and simmer until cooked, about a minute after returned to a simmer. 
8. Add lime juice, and remove heat. 
9. Drain the noodles (wontons, or rice). Divide them into the bowls, and add soup over top. 
10. Garnish with fresh Thai basil, and sliced scallions. Add Hot Chili Oil, and Chili Crisp if you are feeling adventurous. 

Serves 4.

The Impatient Chef Fish and Chips Review - Fisherman's Korner Restaurant, Garibaldi, Oregon

The Impatient Chef loves Fish and Chips.  This is evidenced by the number of fish and chips reviews on this blog.  So, finding a new place to enjoy them is always a treat.  One such opportunity arose on July 9th in the small, coastal town of Garibaldi, Oregon, at a place called Fisherman's Korner.  

"Best Fish & Chips in Tillamook County"

The sign out front was a good omen, so we stepped inside. 

Bar Stools and All

The decor is 1960's and 1970's diner.  This is not a bad thing.  There have been some great meals served with little fanfare in such places.  The Impatient Chef has eaten quite a number of them (like Gracie's Sea Hag in Depoe Bay).  So, this looked promising.  The Oregon Coast boasts a shocking number of places that serve fish and chips.  Some of the best are in small, unassuming hole-in-the-walls, the foremost being The Bowpicker in Astoria (review coming soon), and some mediocre fare is served at expensive, trendy bistros.  

On to the review.

We ordered a cup of clam chowder to start.  

Clam Chowder

The chowder looked promising.  It was thick, but not too thick.  The clam flavor was, while not lacking, too muted, and there were too few clams and potatoes.  The thickener was at least partly corn starch, or some other alternative.  There may have been some roux in it, but it did not have that roux mouth feel.  All in all, it is serviceable.  It was not bad, and it did not have an unusual flavor.  I give it a 5 on the Gracie's Sea Hag Scale.

Next came the Fish and chips (we ordered the Halibut, Prawns and Chips).  

Halibut, Prawns and Chips

First, the tartar sauce: It was anemic, likely made of mayo and too little relish, and nothing else.  The saving grace was that it was a little too sweet.  

Next, the cole slaw:  Not too sweet.  The Impatient Chef normally steers clear of mayo plus sugar slaws, but this one was not bad.  

I used to make similar cole slaw in a small restaurant in Lebanon, PA at the age of 18, or so.  In fact, I was fired after making said slaw because the Hobart shredding attachment was dull, and it took me too long to make 200 pounds of it.  I didn't mention the dull attachment, so my replacement was likely fired too.

The Fish:

The fish was breaded, not battered.  The Impatient Chef does not prefer one over the other.  Both can be excellent, and both can be disappointing.  There was no old oil flavor.  The fish was fresh, moist, and flakey.  I can see why it got the People's Choice Award.  It is not a 10, but a respectable 7.  If you are traveling on Oregon's Hwy 101 through Garibaldi, and you are hankering for some fish and chips, keep this place on your list.  

Speaking of 10's and 7's.  Long time readers of this blog will note that the rating scale for fish and chips was known as the "Rose and Thistle Scale" due to that establishment having the best anywhere.  As I mentioned in a previous post, the Rose and Thistle recently changed its recipe.  While the new fare is good, it's not a 10, so a new benchmark is needed.  If you know of some astoundingly good fish and chips in the Pacific Northwest, please use the comment section to give me a heads up.  If they are good, they could be the namesake for the new scale.

   

The Prawns:

The prawns were the stars of this meal.  They were breaded like the fish, and they were not over fried, like is easy to do with prawns.  The cocktail sauce cold have used a little more horseradish, but that was not too much of a drawback.  They were flavorful, and delicious.  The Impatient Chef gives them a 9.

The Fries:

The fries were lightly breaded, but under fried.  While the outsides were crisp, and remained so through the meal, the insides were a little too mushy.  A little ketchup was necessary once they cooled a little.  They get a rating of 6.  

Overall rating:

The food matches the decor a little too well.  It is not adventurous, or standout.  The best word to describe it is "serviceable".  It will feed the masses, and they will leave happy, but it will not wow anyone.  You would not go wrong stopping by if you are passing through, but it's not worthy of a pilgrimage to bask in its deliciousness.  

Stay tuned for more reviews, and some more recipes.  Much cooking is afoot.  

Thanks for Reading!

--The Impatient Chef
    

Where the Heck is The Impatient Chef?

Eating Fish & Chips, of course.

     The Impatient Chef is on hiatus while he formulates and plots more culinary adventures.  In the meantime, the Quest for the Best Fish & Chips continues apace.  As readers of this occasional blog know, The Impatient Chef rates fish & chips on the Rose & Thistle Scale, due to that restaurant having the best anywhere.  Well, the Rose & Thistle has changed its recipe.  It is no longer top of the heap.  It’s good, but not a 10 on the Rose & Thistle Scale.  So, the scale needs a new namesake.  

     This brings us to a well-hidden gem in Ilwaco, Washington, at the mouth of the Columbia River.  The Salt Hotel and Pub sits on the Ilwaco Marina, and sports an unassuming exterior, and very few tables on the inside.  

     Ilwaco, Washington abuts Cape Disappointment, named by the 18th century ship's captain John Meares, who was thwarted by the infamous Columbia Bar, which is a mile-long, churning, ship-smashing merger of the Columbia River and the Pacific Ocean.  These bodies of water are not on good terms in the best of weather, but when the tides swell, and the rain pours, even modern container ships get tossed about like toys.  Meares did not make it into the Columbia River in 1788, and was highly disappointed by it, and the name stuck.  

     Down the road from Ilwaco is a place named by Lewis and Clark as "Dismal Nitch." 

 

     'Nuff said.

     Into that rainy, windy, mossy, sluggy, ocean smelly weather, fishing boats sail out into the Columbia from the marina, and bring their catches back, and sell some fish to the Salt Hotel and Pub.  

     The fish at the Salt Hotel and Pub is fresh, and so are the oysters.  The last time The Impatient Chef had oyster shooters that fresh was at the Baltimore Inner Harbor in 1989.  The cocktail sauce could have used more horseradish, but the oysters were sublime.  

     This brings us to the Fish & Chips.  

     The batter was crisp, while the rock fish was moist.  The batter remained crisp through the meal.  It had a slight fryer oil taste, but not enough to indicate old oil.  The tartar sauce was savory, and fabulous.  One thing that The Impatient Chef hates is sweet tartar sauces that are little more than mayo and relish.

     The Fries were likewise crips, thick, and also maintained deliciousness even as they cooled.  

     Is the Salt Hotel and Pub the new Fish and Chips to which all others are compared?  Maybe.  

     This is where the readers of my blog come in.  The Impatient Chef is seeking suggestions for the best Fish & Chips in the Pacific Northwest.  Apologies to readers elsewhere in the US.  Please leave your suggestions in the comments section, and some of them may get featured in future posts, and may even become the namesake for the rating scale.  

     Thanks for reading!

--The Impatient Chef. 

The Impatient Chef's Moist Cornbread Recipe

20 years ago, I stopped at a downtown Portland Italian restaurant, the name of which I have forgotten, and ordered a $20.00 ravioli dish that had precisely 3 raviolis in it. They were extremely good raviolis, but I left hungry. In the lead up to the insufficient pasta, however, arrived side dishes. Two of them, if memory serves. One of them was cornbread.

I hate cornbread, or, more appropriately, I hate dry cornbread.

The small dish of creamy, corny delight that arrived more resembled a custard than a bread (or cake), and demolished my expectations of what cornbread could be. Intrigued, I began sampling cornbreads from other restaurants from time to time. Invariably, however, when the dishes were cleared away from the table, there would be one sad piece of cornbread with a single bite out of it sitting on an abandoned plate.

I hate dry cornbread.

I did not set out to recreate the recipe from that Italian restaurant, rather, I wanted to make ordinary cornbread less Death Valley, and more Olympic Peninsula. My first decision was to add creamed corn, and the second was to add more eggs. Lastly, I made the batter slightly thinner than a traditional cornbread batter.  What I ended up with was a nicely moist corn bread.

My first piece of advice is to not over-bake it. My second is to use a cast iron pan in which to bake it. My third is to not use too small of a pan. You don’t want to make it too thick because that requires longer baking, and more likelihood of dryness. 

Ingredients:

• 1 can creamed corn 
• 3 tbsp butter, melted 
• 1 1/2 cup corn flour
• 1 1/2 cup AP flour
• 1 tbsp baking powder* 
• 1 tsp kosher salt 
• 1 cup milk* 
• 4 large eggs 
• 4 tbsp sugar 
• More butter for greasing pan 

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.   Place a 10" cast iron skillet inside.
2. In a large mixing bowl, combine the dry ingredients. 
3. In a smaller mixing bowl, beat the eggs, then add the milk, and combine. Next, add the creamed corn, and the melted butter. Stir to combine. 
4. Add the wet mixture to the dry, and combine. 
5. Get the cast iron skillet out of the oven, and carefully grease with butter. Add the batter, and place into the oven. Bake for 30 to 35 minutes, or until the outside edge gets brown spots, and an inserted toothpick comes out clean. 
6. Serve with butter, and / or honey if desired. 

*To substitute buttermilk for the whole milk, use 1 tbsp baking soda instead of the baking powder. Whole buttermilk is preferred to low fat.

The Impatient Chef Presents: Your Next Heart Attack (ahem... I mean Lobster and Shrimp Mac and Cheese)!

The Impatient Chef visited California this past July to explore the past and present of fine dining in such places as Truckee, South Tahoe, and, of course, Donner Pass.  The latter being not only a joke in poor taste, but not really a place where one can grab a (ew) bite.  The locale that is on today's plate is a diner in Truckee called "Jax on the Tracks".  This is not a review of the restaurant, but an attempt to recreate one of their dishes.  The Impatient Chef did not order this dish, alas, but was graciously given a taste, and later had to retrieve his socks from across the diner.  The dish in question was a lobster and shrimp with (count 'em) 5 cheeses.  

Can one recreate a dish with only one taste?  Good question.  In this case, the answer is "no."  Can one create a delicious dish on the same concept.  That would be a "yes."  So, here goes.  

Ingredients:

• 1/2 pound shrimp (with shells) 
• 1 small lobster tail (approx. 4 oz in shell) 
• Water to cover shrimp and lobster shells 
• 1 pint Heavy Cream 
• 3 oz Mozzarella 
• 5 oz Mild or Medium Cheddar 
• 5 oz PepperJack 
• 5 oz Münster 
• 2 oz Parmesan 
• 2 cups Dry Elbow Mac 
• 5 tbsp Butter (2 for topping for broil) 
• 6 tbsp Flour 
• 1 tbsp Kosher Salt 
• 1/2 tsp White Pepper 
• 1/2 tsp mustard powder 
• 1/2 tsp Tony Chachere's Creole Seasoning 
• Freshly ground pepper to taste 
• Sprinkle paprika 

Directions:

1. It is vital to time this right so that the macaronis go into the sauce hot. 
2. Shell and devein shrimp. Cut shell off of the lobster. Set the meat aside. 
3. In a small sauce pan, cover shrimp and lobster shells with water, and add 1/2 tsp salt. Bring to a boil and simmer for 5 minutes. Strain the stock into a small container, and then put it back into the pan, and over medium heat, bring to a boil. 
4. Cut the shrimp and lobster meat into 1/2 inch pieces. Add to shrimp stock when it comes to a boil. Cook until just barely done, usually about a minute. Remove the seafood from the stock, and reduce stock to 1/2 cup, stirring occasionally, and skimming off any foam that forms on the surface. 
5. When the stock is done reducing, remove from heat, and set it aside. 
6. Add water to a large pot for the macaronis. Add 1/2 tsp kosher salt. Bring to a boil and add the macaronis. 
7. Measure out and shred the cheeses. Mix together in a medium bowl. 
8. In a medium sauce pan, add 4 tbsp butter. Melt over medium low heat, and stir in flour to make a roux. Cook roux for 5 minutes stirring frequently. Do not let it brown. 
9. Once the roux is cooked, slowly add the reduced stock while stirring to incorporate. The slowly add the heavy cream, still stirring. When you have added half of the cream, and the sauce is smooth, pour the rest in, and stir until smooth. Add 1/2 tsp salt, the white pepper, mustard powder, and the Creole Seasoning. Heat it up, stirring constantly, until thickened, and just about boiling. 
10. Add the seafood to the bottom of the colander into which you will drain the macaronis. 
11. About this time, the macaronis should be done. You want them to be all the way done for this. Drain. The hot water should heat up the seafood enough that it will not cool down the sauce. 
12. Add the macaronis and seafood back to the large pot, and add the sauce. Stir to incorporate. Check the temperature. It should still be hot. 
13. Reserve 5 oz of the cheese mixture for the next step. Add the cheese in handfuls, stirring to incorporate after each. 
14. Put mac and cheese into a small casserole dish, or bread pan, and cover with reserved cheese. Add remaining 2 tbsp of butter by adding small amounts evenly around the pan. Put under a broiler until the cheese is just melted. 

Serves 4. Add a few grinds of black pepper, and a sprinkle of paprika on each serving.

Eat. Let your eyes roll back into your head. You deserve it.

Until next time.

--The Impatient Chef

Tacos in Paradise

Tacos in Paradise

About a year ago, I (and I do mean “I”. I am going to dispense with using The Impatient Chef in the third person schtick for this post because of the kind of prose I wish to present to the reader) wrote a post about a new, occasional series I wanted to do about take out food. The pandemic was getting worse, and there was no vaccine, so I decided to write about food carts and other take out food. Needless to say, this idea got lost in the shuffle due to, well, life. As in all things, one can only do so much.

Today, my wife and I were out in the Eastern Columbia Gorge, in the great state of Oregon, to pick up our wine club bottles at a place called “Idiot’s Grace Winery.” That IS its real name. Formerly known as Memaloose Winery, they have a tasting room just outside of Mosier, Oregon. They specialize in naturally fermented organic wines. If you are in the area, please do stop in to have a sip. While we were in the area, the familiar pangs of hunger gurgled up from the depths, and lunch proverbially called our names.

Downtown Mosier, Oregon

Downtown Mosier sits a stone’s throw south of I-84, along the Historic Columbia River Highway. They have a couple of restaurants, two food carts, a seasonal ice cream shop, and one of the geological wonders of the world: The Bingen Gap.

I called The Bingen Gap “The Mosier Gap” for a decade because that’s the first way I heard it. Besides, I like Mosier. In researching a book I am writing about the area, I discovered my error. At first, I thought, "you can have my Mosier Gap when you pry it from my cold, dead brain cells." However, that’s not, as it were, the scientific method. Correct information must drive out the incorrect, so it’s the Bingen Gap.

The Bingen Gap is an astounding collection of synclines and anticlines, heaved from the Earth by long ago volcanic convulsions, and scoured clean by successive Missoula Floods. These floods were at the tail ends of ice ages when massive reservoirs of water formed in the Rocky Mountains just wast of Missoula, Montana. Held in by ice dams, they reportedly carried 500 cubic miles of water. When the dams broke, they sent a 1,000 foot wall of water and ice down the Columbia Gorge, carrying in it the sum total of all the world’s rivers in one swell foop. Mosier was not there then, needless to say.

The exposed geology at Mosier includes the Mosier Syncline, which is at the low point of the formation, and the anticline that seemingly breaks into three pieces just to the west. Across the river is the Bingen Anticline, part of which is the Coyote Wall, reportedly one of the longest, exposed syncline/anticlines in the world.

Think of synclines and anticlines as waves of rock. The anticline is the crest of the wave, and the syncline is the way down, which is a good place to be hit by a Missoula flood.

The Bingen Gap at Mosier, Oregon

Mosier Geology

Moon and Mosier

The Coyote Wall

So, it was with a little trepidation that we moseyed (or was that meandered?) down into Mosier for some lunch. While watching for the next Missoula flood, I ordered 6 carnitas tacos from a food cart. The cart was called La Vaquita. It sits in the parking lot next to the Mosier Fruit Company (Mosier is regionally famous for its cherries), with a happy cow on its logo. From there, we drove along the HCRH as it pretzeled back up the hill to the east, and parked at a gravel overlook, where the Bingen gap was visible in all its glory.

The first thing I noticed was that they gave me enough of the “red sauce”.

I never get enough salsa from any Mexican restaurant, even when I ask for more.  This sauce is a cross between salsa and hot sauce.  It's savory, peppery, and has a bright, acidic mouth feel.  

The second thing I noticed was that the tacos were fabulous. We squeezed the limes all over the tacos, and applied a stream of red sauce down the middle of each. The meat was tender and spicy. The lettuce and cilantro were fresh, and the overall flavor was a sensory delight. The red sauce left my lips tingling for at least ten minutes after we were done with them. A little food cart in a small town with little car traffic made fresh, delicious tacos. They were probably the best I have had in years. 

6 Tacos Plus Red Sauce

I have been frequenting food carts for years, but I have done so increasingly as the pandemic has continued. I hope to be more diligent in providing readers with good places for take out food in the Pacific Northwest in the months to come. My true desire is for the pandemic to end, but viruses have a mindlessness of their own, and don’t tend to cooperate.

A personal note: I wanted to move to Mosier back in 2015, but fortune was not kind to that desire, and we moved into Hood River, which is 6 miles to the west. I could only stay for 4 years, because the commute to the Portland area turned out to be too long to do it every day, especially in the era of global warming, but it stands out as a high point for me.  While I did not get my first choice of hometowns, my second choice was a life-changing experience.  Living in the heart of the Columbia Gorge was like living in paradise.  

I hear the tacos are good there.

Thanks for reading!

Gary L. Quay —The Impatient Chef.