Treasures In An Old House

My wife and I recently moved to an 1920's Craftsman-style farmhouse. It hadn't been lived in for about ten years, and there was a lot of stuff in the house that we needed to clear out before we could move in.

These cans were of particular interest; I found them in a decomposing cardboard box under the stairs and they were among the few that hadn't completely rotted through and disintegrated. I suspect that they were more than twenty years old when we discovered them. There hasn't been a Shop Rite supermarket in this town since 1983.

We made many other, somewhat less disgusting, discoveries as well. In the kitchen pantry, we found a jar of pickles that had been left on the window sill. Over the years, the sunlight had bleached the pickles to a pale, ivory white. And in the cupboards there were boxes of dried food mixes, detergents, and kitchen items dating back to the 1940's (we sold most of them to collectors on eBay.)

Whatever Happened to Country Club Soda?

Once, nearly every town had their own local bottling company making flavored soft drinks. Enfield, CT had The Thompsonville Bottling Company, which produced a line of sodas of their own as well as national brands such as Moxie under contract.

In Springfield, MA, the local bottler was Country Club Soda Company, which registered their first trademark in 1908. When I was a kid growing up in the area, we always had a couple of bottles of Country Club in the fridge (especially the ginger ale, which seemed to be my mother's favorite.)

I'm not really sure when Country Club started to get scarce in their hometown. By the early 1980's it was already hard to find. In 1985, Seven-Up bought the company and there were rumors that they were going to take the brand national, but I guess nothing ever came of it.

The only time I ever see Country Club soda these days, it's the occasional bottle that shows up on eBay or at a flea market. Or like in the picture up above: An old cardboard box from the early 1970s. Beat up and filled with junk, tossed in the dirt and debris at the foot of a Salvation Army collection bin.

Burger King Ketchup & Fries Potato Snack

I didn't really know what to expect when these things first showed up in the vending machines at work, but the initial five bags the vending company experimented with were gone in half a day, so I thought they might be interesting to try.

The teaser copy on the back of the bag calls the flavor a "mystical merge of ketchup, fries, and snack chips." For a more realistic comparison, think of a broad noodle made of dehydrated potato, dusted with a salty bright-red tomato-flavored powder. I have to admit I kind of like these, not so much for the ketchup flavor (which is a little vile) but for the delicious dried-potato flavor. That spudly taste so reminiscent of taters and plastics is why I like Pringles, Munchos, and Ore-Ida Potato Buds. There's just no accounting for taste, huh?

The Hiatus Is Over.

This blog has been abandoned for too long. It's back with a new name and a new look, and I hope to stick to a three-posts-minimum-per-week schedule. Wish me luck; I hope I don't run out of things to say.

Fishy Delights 7: Celli Scungilli (Baby Whole Conch)

At $1.50 for a 3.2-ounce tin, this is one of the more expensive tinned seafood items at my local job-lot store. Luckily, it is also one of the more tasty.

Nestled inside the tin I bought were nine small but meaty nuggets, each, the label assured me, being an entire whole baby conch. They were tender, though still resilient in the typical canned-shellfish way, and quite delicious. The flavor was reminiscent of clams and the bite sized chunks were surprisingly satisfying. Alas, the price (which comes out to a little less than $6.00 a pound, and that includes all that water they're packed in) is far too high for a novelty snack.

Pampa Vienna Sausage In Beef Broth

I'm a sucker for strange-looking canned foods at the job-lot store. Sometimes it works out pretty well. Other times...well...

Take Pampa Vienna Sausage, for example. Usually, vienna sausage isn't that bad. It's not gourmet food, but it's passable for a quick lunch if I'm stuck at my desk, working a flea market, or out fishing. So when I found this big 400g can of Brazilian-made meatsticks at the local job-lot, I gambled a buck and bought it.

The label claims that "MEAT USED IS 100% BEEF." That might be true, but that doesn't guarantee goodness, either. The sausages are somewhat haphazardly tumbled into the tall can and topped with a rather thick sort of broth. They're redder than American-made viennas, and kind of bumpy and irregular, which is kind of strange when you're used to the pale, glistening, uniform cylinders produced by Armour and Libby. But it's the texture and flavor that really sets these apart.

You know how, when you set a bowl of Jell-o into the refrigerator without a cover, the gelatine develops a tough, membraneous skin? That's what these sausages are like right from the can: an al dente leathery "skin" contiguous with a somewhat grainy interior. There is an unusual and almost off-putting mouthfeel to these. Combined with the slightly rancid flavor, I can wholeheartedly recommend that you do not fail to leave these on the grocer's shelf should you ever encounter them yourself.

The Right Tool for the Right Job

No kitchen is well-equipped without a clam hammer.

Crown Fried Chicken, Springfield MA

There's a dumpy-looking little fried chicken joint in a storefront on the corner of State and Main in Springfield, MA. It's called Crown Fried Chicken, and they ain't much to look at.

Inside, run-down old booths line the faded walls with their peeling wallpaper-scroll trim, and the vinyl floors are scuffed and tired. An ordering counter runs across the back wall, and above it, a backlit sign displays large color pictures of the various fried chicken and spare rib combos you can order. The price is low, the service is friendly, and the food comes out fast.

And it's delicious. The chicken is coated with a thin batter before being fried, and it comes out tender and juicy. The shoestring fries that come with the combos are crispy on the outside, steamy soft on the inside, and generously portioned. Along with the chicken and fries, combos also come with your choice of 12-ounce canned soda. They have a big variety, and it was no trouble finding a Coke Zero in the case.

My nephew and I each ordered chicken wings - three wings, fries, beverage - and it came to about $10 for the two of us. Good food at a fair price.

Fishy Delights 6: Bajamar Octopus in Garlic Sauce

I had never even heard of the Bajamar brand name until I ran across a big basket full of these cans at one of the local Hispanic supermarkets. They were 99 cents each - a bargain when compared to the Goya brand, which retails for $1.69 or more.

Bajamar Octopus in Garlic Sauce, while not quite as flavorful as Goya, is still an excellent product. I found big chunks of octopus tentacle in a pleasant, garlicy vegetable oil base, lightly seasoned with salt. There was no spicy overtones, but there does seem to be just a hint of smokiness (which I think may be a "phantom flavor" produced by a combination of the seafood brininess and the garlic.) These chunks are much chewier than the Goya offering as well, which is more in line with the nature of the product - octopus is notorious for it's resilient meat.

Overall, Bajamar makes a good product and I'd buy it again.

Quick recipe idea:

1 can Octopus in Garlic Sauce (4 oz.), partially drained
1 tbsp sweet onion, thinly sliced
1 tbsp sliced ripe black olives
Freshly ground black pepper to taste
Salt to taste
"Italian seasoning" - or use a little dried thyme, basil, and marjoram instead
1 small fresh ripe tomato, cubed (about 1/3 cup)
White wine vinegar

Drain most (but not all!) of the oil from the can of Octopus and dump the contents of the can into a bowl. Add onion, olives, salt and pepper, "Italian seasoning", and tomato. Sprinkle lightly with a bit of good white wine vinegar, and toss to combine.

I served this as an appetizer at my sister's place over the weekend.

French Toast Pop Tarts

My favorite PopTarts variety has always been Brown Sugar Cinnamon. Cheap pastry crust with hard fondant frosting on the outside and some kind of moist brown sugar goo inside. A perfect food, if you define perfect as "completely lacking in nutritional value."

So imagine my thoughts upon seeing French Toast PopTarts for the first time. Cheap pastry crust with "rich syrupy filling"?? Could Kellogg's actually be producing a food with a greater number of empty calories than my old favorite Brown Sugar Cinnamon?

Well, the short answer is "no." The Empty Calorie count is no higher for French Toast than Brown Sugar Cinnamon. But the good news is that there aren't any less, either.

The top crust of these toaster pastries has an interestingly textured surface, perhaps designed to resemble French toast. There is no frosting, but the top is dotted with powdery spots of cinnamon. And the aroma! A rich, buttery aroma redolent with mapley syrupy goodness, beckoning to the taste buds.

As trite as it may be, I find it impossible to describe these without using the word "delicious." The cheap crust is flaky and delicate, with just the right backflavor of egg nog - just as you'd expect from something labeled "French toast." The filling is a slightly wetter variety of the brown sugar type, but with a wonderful maple flavor that - even though I know it to be artificial - tastes authentic.

They were so good, the family and I each had one for dessert last night.

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