Tag: #pizza

American Ingenuity

American Ingenuity

American ingenuity – we see it applied every day in all kinds of ways. Recently, I needed to look no further than a couple of local breweries, where in addition to great beer, they are serving Sausage Gravy Pizza and Bratwurst Pizza. I put those ideas in the borderline genius category.

Pizza – it’s almost as American as apple pie. Yea, it originated in Naples, Italy, but we Americans have made it our own. For me, from pizza at Sam’s* in my hometown, to New York Sicilian at West Point, to Chicago deep dish, to rediscovering the simple pleasures of a Pizza Margherita, it’s been a great journey. Of course, these days you can find almost anything on a pizza including the outstanding combination of prosciutto, arugula and a balsamic reduction at Ava’s in St Michaels, MD.

Sam’s Pizza – Still Great After Seventy Years.

Currently, I need to say two local breweries have caught my attention with outside the box thinking.

The first is Death Ridge Brewery, located on a farm off of Route 229 about halfway between Warrenton and Culpeper. Their beers are excellent and they have wonderful views of the Virginia Piedmont. They have their own kitchen and often a food truck, but you should really try visiting on a Sunday, when they do it up right. They have bluegrass music all day long, and there’s typically a food truck. The real reason to visit on a Sunday? Their Sausage Gravy Pizza, which is only served on Sundays.

Sausage Gravy Pizza – You Know You Want to Try It!

I kid you not, it is outstanding. Does it taste like sausage gravy? Yes. Does it taste like Pizza? Again, yes. I’m not sure exactly how they do it. If I had to guess, I’d say they blend some mozzarella in with their homemade sausage gravy, and it turns into a wonderful, delicious, perfect Sunday lunch. The pizza probably has about a bazillion calories, but who’s counting?

Cathy About to Enjoy a Sausage Gravy Pizza.

The second place to try is a new brewery in Warrenton called Silver Branch, Warrenton Station. It took over the location of the former Wort Hog Brewery**, which only lasted a couple of years. Silver Branch, like Death Ridge, has good beers, with excellent IPAs and great European varieties, including Pils, Saisons, Stouts, and a Belgian Tripel that will knock your socks off. They have a full food menu including moules (mussels), a bratwurst sandwich with frites and several good pizzas. My favorite? “The Wurst”, a bratwurst pizza with caramelized onions – a brilliant idea!

Now you might think the Germans would have “invented” the Bratwurst Pizza, or at least served it, but I’m doubtful of that and never saw it when we lived there. Cathy and I were stationed in Germany for 9 years with the Army and loved both the country and the people. Having said that, the German people live up to at least one stereotype – They in fact are an “orderly” people and tend to follow rules. As a result, they serve bratwurst in Germany, and they serve pizza in Germany at Italian restaurants. The two together?! Niemals! (Never!) I’m glad someone at Silver Branch thought “Hmmm. I like brats. I love pizza. AND, I enjoy drinking bier with both of them. Let’s play around in the kitchen and see what we can come up with.” Pizza, brats and beer – what could possibly go better together?

“The Wurst” – Just say “Ja!”

I still enjoy a Cheese, Sausage, Mushroom pizza from Sam’s when back home in Ottawa, or a Greek pizza from Joe & Vinnie’s here in Warrenton. Still, it’s nice to know there are new options, and with American Ingenuity, pizza continues evolving. In the meantime, if you are here in Fauquier County, I highly recommend trying both Death Ridge and Silver Branch, for their beers, and their pizza. You can’t go wrong unless you try and do both on the same Sunday, in which case you might overeat. 😉

Addendum:

  • * Sam’s Pizza made, and still makes, some of the best pizza in the world. It’s where we went in high school and continue to stop by to this day when back in Ottawa. Here’s a blog about Sam’s and the year 1972. “It’s not easy to eat pizza 100 times in one year. I know this because my good friend Howard and I did it 52 years ago in 1972…” continue here: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2017/04/14/sams-pizza-in-1972/
  • ** Wort Hog was one of the first breweries to open in Fauquier County and people were quite excited when it arrived. Unfortunately, it had a couple of problems – their beers weren’t all that good, and service was mediocre. Other than that, it was a fine place. :-). Fauquier County now has 11 breweries – if you don’t make good beer and don’t have decent service, you’re not going to make it. There are too many choices.
  • You can learn more about Death Ridge Brewery here: https://www.deathridgebrewery.com/
  • You can learn more about Silver Branch, Warrenton Station, here: https://www.silverbranchbrewing.com/warrenton-station/

Going Home

Going Home

We are driving home to Illinois this week. The last time we drove to Ottawa was in 2017, and mom was dying. This time, we are going to see living family and friends, and stay at one of the touchstones of my youth.

We never get back to see folk as often as we would like. Life gets in the way, and time keeps on ticking, or depending on your perspective, racing along. We have visited a couple of times since 2017, but always flew. Our last trip was a short one a little over a year ago, and my sister Berta and her husband Jack had a great family reunion while we were there.

The Last Visit Home

This time, Cath and I are bringing our dog, Carmen, and driving. It typically takes 12 to 14 hours to cover the 750 miles, but you don’t measure progress by time or by miles. You track the States you cross. We’ll go from Virginia to West Virginia, then Maryland, back to West Virginia, then Pennsylvania, West Virginia a third time, Ohio, Indiana, and finally, Illinois. You get to see a bit of ‘Murica along the way.

The Northern Route is Shorter, but the Southern Route is an Easier Drive

Cathy is never crazy about the drive. For her, it’s a bit like Cormac McCarthy’s, “The Road” (if you haven’t read the book, you may have seen the movie with Viggo Mortensen.) Me? I always enjoy it. I watch the land transform from the Piedmont here in Virginia, to the Appalachian Mountains of West Virginia and Pennsylvania, the rolling hills of Ohio, and eventually the flatlands of Indiana and Illinois. None of it is dramatic landscape, but if you have the time, it’s a beautiful way to see and reach the heartland.

It’s funny. I started this blog with “We are driving home…”. Neither Cathy or I have lived in Ottawa since we were 18, nearly 50 years ago. We have lived in our current home here if Virginia for over 23 years. “Going home” of course isn’t always about going to a place. It can be about a time in your life as well. Some may think it’s corny, but there’s something gratifying about occasionally returning to your roots, however short the visit is.

This visit is actually starting at Kishauwau Cabins, a resort we knew in our younger days as Camp Kishauwau, our local Boy Scout Camp. During our youth, my friends, Tim, Howard, Mark and I spent many a night there, either camping in tents or sleeping in one of the few run down cabins it had at the time. The Boy Scouts sold the camp decades ago, and it was turned into a getaway that attracts people from Chicago and the suburbs now. On this trip, we’ll be with our wives and girlfriends and staying in their new and remodeled cabins. My guess is our food and adult beverages will be better than the camp fare we ate and bug juice we drank during our previous stays in the ‘60s and ‘70s.

High Above Vermillion’s Waters…Camp Kishauwau

I’m sure we will tell an old story or two, but we’ll try and keep it in check. Still, I would be surprised if WrongWay LeBeau isn’t mentioned a time or two. Other subjects might come up as well – marshmallow fights, the time we started to run a fellow scout up the flagpole, or the time our troop failed to keep a proper fire-watch during summer camp, or … We’ve only told and heard these stories a few hundred times before, so there’s no reason to repeat them. And yet we probably will, at least a few times.

Like These Old Photos From Camp, our Memories may be a bit Blurry.

Later, we’ll spend a few nights at Berta and Jack’s beautiful home and see them, along with my other sister, Tanya and husband Shawn. The trip is short enough that it’s doubtful we’ll have time to see all of the nieces, nephews, grand-nieces and grand-nephews. Sadly, that’s just how life is sometimes, especially when you live six states away.

Over the course of the week, we will probably have a pizza from Sam’s or Bianchi’s, and maybe a pork tenderloin sandwich somewhere. I’m sure we will visit Allen Park as well. There are some things you just “have to do” when back in Ottawa, no matter the length of the trip.

Eventually, the visit will end and we will return to our home in Virginia. The departure, not money, is always the real price of a trip back home. Knowing time is fleeting and we are growing older, departing is always a little bittersweet for me. The hugs, the handshakes, the I love you’s … the thought of “When will we gather together again?”

Memories are nice. Keeping friendships and family love alive are even better. The best trips make new memories, and I know it will happen this time as well. Still, there is always a question in the back of my mind – “Where does the time go, and when will we gather together again?”

Addendum:

My friend Tim is always more poetic than I am, and suggested adding the 1969 song “Who Knows Where the Time Goes” by Fairport Convention in the Addendum. It’s a nice listen and adds perspective as well – https://youtu.be/OkOB57UcYk8

Grad School, and Learning to Cook

Grad School, and Learning to Cook

Embarrassment is what started it. Well, embarrassment, a class in Stochastic Communications and Trout Almandine. In 1984, I started learning how to cook, largely after being embarrassed at a friend’s house on a Sunday afternoon.

Last week, I published a blog about cooking a German dish, Erbseneintopf (Split Pea Soup) in 1982, and I received notes from several friends asking if that’s when I started learning to cook. The answer was no, that didn’t really come till later.

It’s true Erbseneintopf was the first recipe I collected, but as to cooking, my skills were limited. Yea, I could do steaks, brats, and burgers on the grill, but not much else. Cathy did the vast majority of cooking for us, and that (from my view point) seemed to work out fine.

Things changed in 1984.

The Army, in it’s infinite wisdom, sent me to Grad School to pursue a master’s degree in Electrical Engineering. I was in the Army Signal Corps and they were looking for engineers to help with the new field of Computer Networks. We all take the Internet and computer networks for granted now, but back then, it was brand new, except for some research networks like The Arpanet, a DoD funded network.

Captain Hall, The Future “Cook”. The Photo was Taken During my Time at Grad School.

As I started my graduate program, something quickly became obvious. My math skills were rusty and needed work. I’d studied calculus, differential equations, linear equations, and probability and statistics at West Point, but that was several years before and I’d forgotten most of it.

In the fall of 1984, I was required to take a class in Stochastic Communications – it was a theory class about how communication systems act in the presence of noise, and was very math heavy. A friend of mine, Gerry, was also taking the class and we often studied together to understand the math.

One Sunday afternoon, Gerry was at my house and we were working through some tough problems. At some point, I said, “Hey, feel like some dinner? How about if I order us a pizza?” Gerry agreed, and I ordered a pizza from the Pizza Hut just down the road. When they delivered the pie, we took a break and had a beer with our dinner. Eventually, we resumed our studies, and then quit an hour or two later.

Nothing Says Fine Dining Like a Pizza from Pizza Hut…

A couple of weeks later on another Sunday afternoon, we were studying at Gerry’s apartment. Eventually, we were getting hungry and Gerry said “How about a break for dinner?”, to which I readily agreed. I expected him to pick up the phone. Instead he said, “Come on, let’s go to the kitchen.”

We arrived in the kitchen and after opening a bottle of wine and pouring two glasses, he proceeded to the fridge where he pulled out some trout filets and asparagus. He then brought out some almonds, garlic, and God only knows what else from his cabinets. What? Was he actually going to cook a dinner?

Gerry spent the next half hour or so preparing the meal, while we continued drinking and talking. He toasted the almonds, sautéed some garlic and eventually pan fried the trout, while sautéing the asparagus in another pan. Half an hour later, it all came together on our two plates with the almonds scattered over the trout and the asparagus served on the side.

Trout Almandine with Asparagus on the Side – a Treat from my Friend, Gerry.

Holy Cow! A real meal, and a great one. I believe I was in a bit of shock. Thinking back to the Pizza Hut pizza I’d served two weeks before, I was also a bit embarrassed.

On the way home, I thought to myself, “What the hell is wrong with this picture? A bachelor comes to a married guy’s house and has delivery pizza from a chain restaurant for dinner, while the married guy goes to the bachelor’s house and has a gourmet meal!?!?” Right then and there, I decided I needed to learn how to cook.

And so, my cooking journey began. Cathy still did most of the cooking, but I started cooking some as well, especially on weekends. I’d find different recipes to try and slowly expanded my repertoire. I also started collecting cookbooks, some basic, some focused on specific cuisines. I went through bread and muffin phases, German and French phases, Vegetarian, Stir Fry’s, and eventually Indian curries, among other recipes.

Just a Few of the Couple Dozen Cookbooks I Now Own

I found I enjoyed cooking, and I started to cook decently, but man, was I a messy cook. I knew nothing about “Mise en place” (prepping things ahead of time), or cleaning as you go. While I could turn out a great meal, the kitchen was a disaster. Cathy’s mom said something to Cath about it one time, and Cathy basically told her to be quiet, I was at least cooking some of the meals now. 😉

Eventually I retired from work around 2015, and and over time, started cooking my share of our meals. I also learned about Mise en place and cleaning the kitchen as I cooked. It only took me about 30 years to learn those two basic lessons. Better late than never, I guess.

So, that’s my story. Who knows, If I hadn’t been rusty in math and in need of help, maybe none of this would have happened. You don’t always know what will send you down a different pathway in life. I’m glad I discovered this one.

Addendum:

⁃ Strangely, there is no Trout Almandine recipe in my collection of recipes. I never asked Gerry for it at the time. If I’m making it now, I use a variation of a recipe I found online. C’est la vie…

– Gerry went on to get his PhD in Electrical Engineering – he was a smart guy about many things. Unfortunately, over the years, we lost touch with each other.

Pizza on the Grill

Pizza on the Grill

We recently bought a new gas grill. I’ve always been a charcoal guy, but decided to add a gas grill as well. So – what would be the first meal to come off the grill – Steaks? Brats? Burgers? Chicken? A Pork Tenderloin? It turned out to be a Pizza Margherita. Yep. Seriously. What the hell!?! Well, there’s a bit of a story to go with the decision.

For the last 40 years, I’ve cooked on (mostly) Weber Kettle charcoal grills. The smoke, the flame, the flavor, it all just worked for me. Yea, I always knew there was a bit of inconvenience to it, but that was no big deal, and I’d argue with “gas guys” about why charcoal was superior.

When Cathy’s mom passed away in 2010, we inherited her gas grill. It took me a bit of time to cook on it, but I made the adjustment. I still mostly cooked with charcoal, but if I was in a hurry, or occasionally had something that just needed a quick sear, like shrimp, I’d use mom’s grill. It was also put to use when we did our annual Oktoberfest Run at the farm – When you need to cook 125 Brats and warm up 100 soft pretzels, all available cooking surfaces are pressed into service.

Last week, two independent events happened that changed my outlook.

First, the New York Times cooking section had an article about making your own pizza. I’d always shied away from making my own pizzas in the past. Making the dough seemed like more effort than it was worth. The Time’s recipe? Easy. You just needed a bit of time. It also had a simple recipe for the sauce. Still, it seemed that, while you could make a good pizza in your oven, the oven still wasn’t Pizzeria-oven hot, not even close. I know lots of people make great pizza at home, but it gave me pause.

The second event? Cathy and I talked and decided to buy a new gas grill to supplement our charcoal grill. Mom’s old grill was toast. Maybe I’m getting old. Maybe I’m getting soft. In any case, I bit the bullet, and bought a new gas Weber grill. Now with the Weber, as I was reading through the manual, they recommend heating the grill to it’s highest temperature for 20 or 30 minutes before you ever use it. I’m not sure why, maybe to help season everything.

In any case, the day the grill arrived, I heated that puppy up for about half an hour. I went out later to shut it down and glanced at the temperature. Whoa! Over 600 degrees!

A Pizza Oven of a Different Sort

That got me to thinking. 600 degrees still isn’t the 1,000 degrees of a wood pizza oven, or as hot as a commercial pizza oven. But, it’s hotter than most home ovens.

A wood oven, at 1,000 degrees takes about 60 seconds to cook the perfect pie. What could I do at 600 degrees? I decided to find out.

I kept it simple for my first try and just went with a traditional Pizza Margherita. On Saturday afternoon I made the dough and let it rise. While that was happening, I made the sauce they recommended, which was really simple – blended crushed tomatoes, a bit of salt and a swirl of olive oil. I added some garlic and oregano.

The Two Dough Balls for the Crusts

About an hour before dinner time, I put my baking-stone on the grill and started heating it up.

Next? I had a cocktail, got a bottle of Zin out of the cellar and relaxed a bit. Finally it was time to assemble the pizza.

I formed the pie, added some sauce, then placed mozzarella cheese on it, and scattered some basil leaves. I added a quick swirl of olive oil and a grating of pepper. I kept the second round of dough handy, in case I screwed up the first pizza. Into the Weber the pizza went. Six minutes later, I took it out.

Homemade Pizza – Yea Baby!

It looked delicious. I let it cool for a minute or two. Yes, I still remember burning the roof of my mouth on occasion with pizzas straight from the oven… 😉

Finally, it was taste test time, and – Whoa! This was pretty damned good. Was it the best pizza I ever had? No. But it was much better than many pizzas I’ve had. It had a nice crust and a good sauce. The cheese was melted and stringy. This was something I could easily enjoy again and again.

We devoured the first pizza and I quickly made the second one. I added a bit more cheese and basil this time and slid it onto the baking stone. A little under six minutes later, I pulled it out. I’d say Cathy liked the pizza as well, as the second one was also quickly gone.

The Second Pizza was as Good as the First.

I realize I’m late to the “make your own pizza party”, but I’m on board now. The grill made me a believer. I’ve got a few topping ideas for the next pizzas, and some thoughts on how I could improve just a bit. Practice makes perfect, or so they say.

So…I bought this Weber Grill that makes good pizzas. I hear it’s not bad with steaks either. We’ll see sometime in the future.

Addendum:

– I love pizza, although we don’t eat it as much these days (that may change now). I think that’s partly because we have to drive 15 or 20 minutes to the nearest pizza places. It sounds foolish, but growing up in Ottawa, Illinois, we had several great pizza places, and I think it spoiled me a bit. Foremost among the places in Ottawa was Sam’s and Bianchi’s. They are legendary back home. Anyone returning for a visit almost always stops at one of those two places for a pie. If you want to read about me having pizza 116 times at Sam’s in 1972, you can do so here: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2017/04/14/sams-pizza-in-1972/

– Here’s a link to the article from the NYT than inspired me. Give it a shot – it really is pretty simple. https://www.nytimes.com/2014/04/09/dining/a-little-pizza-homework.html

An Accidental Night in Chicago

An Accidental Night in Chicago

The night wasn’t supposed to happen. As a matter of fact, in today’s post 9-11 world, it couldn’t happen. They never would have made it through security. But in 1991? Yea, my buddies Howard and June sprung me from O’Hare Airport during a layover, and we had an unexpected night in Chicago.

It was July 2nd, 1991 and I’d been in Omaha, Nebraska for a week. We were running communications tests on the President’s “other plane” – the National Emergency Airborne Command Post (NEACP – pronounced Kneecap). NEACP is the plane the president uses in the event of a nuclear attack. The tests went well and ended quicker than expected. As a result, I was racing to the airport to try and catch a flight home that evening, rather than my scheduled flight the next day.

NEACP – The President’s Other Plane

I made the airport with twenty minutes to spare and was able to get a ticket. At the time, there were no direct flights from DC to Omaha and I would need to connect through Chicago with a two hour layover. At the airport, I found a pay phone (don’t forget this was the pre-cellphone age) and called my buddies June and Howard in Chicago to see if they could meet me at the airport for a beer (remember pre 9-11 times at the airport? Anyone could walk out to the plane gates, and in fact, many people did. Usually not for a beer, but to meet loved ones when their plane arrived). Neither Howard or June were home so I left them a message on their answering machine. I figured the odds of them receiving the message AND making it to the airport on time were between slim and none. I ran to the plane and boarded.

An Entry From my Journal About the Weekend in Question*

An hour and a half later we landed in Chicago and I left the plane. I’ll be damned – both June and Howard were there at the gate to meet me! Handshakes all around and we found a bar near the gate I would fly out of two hours later.

We drank a couple of beers and June offhandedly said “Why don’t you spend the night?” I told him United wouldn’t let it happen, and how I was lucky to be on this flight at all. Then we thought, what the hell, let’s give it a shot. I walked over to the ticket agent at the gate and talked with him about changing my connecting flight to the next day. We went back and forth about it, but he gave me about fifteen reasons why he couldn’t do it. I walked back to the bar, which was within site of the agent and reported to the boys that it was no dice.

The Chances of Spending the Night in Chicago Didn’t Look Good*

Howard wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He set his beer down and marched over to the agent. He proceeded to berate the agent and said something like this to him – “What kind of American are you? Here’s my friend, a soldier doing his duty protecting our country while here you are, sitting on your ass and not doing anything to help out. My friend puts his life on the line every day – don’t you think he’s worth that small gesture?” (Or words to that effect. Howard was pretty animated – as he related to me recently, he was performing on stage regularly then including at the Improv Olympic in Chicago. That gave him some of the confidence to pull off the role of “irate friend”). They talked a bit more and Howard came back to the table with a smile – It was on! The agent gave me a return ticket for the next day and we left O’Hare.

We were starving by now, and headed to a new Giordano’s Pizzaria. At the time, Giordano’s had only two or three locations in Chicago, and no where else. We ordered a couple of stuffed pizzas along with a few more beers. The night progressed. From there, it was on to another bar, and then to a bar across the street from their apartment for a final beer and a tequila (or two). We finally made it to bed around 1:30AM.

The next morning, I was moving a bit slowly. When I woke up, Howard was already gone, as he had to be at work early. June and I cleaned up and went out for a quick breakfast, before he drove me back to the airport. We arrived at 10:15, just in time to catch my 11:10 flight – it was my original flight, before I rescheduled everything the day before… ;-).

It was an unexpected night in Chicago with my oldest friends. What could possibly be better?

Howard, Me and June, Two Months Later in September of 1991. I was Back in Illinois for a Couple More Days. Bloodies were Evidently on the Menu this Particular Day.

Addendum:

⁃ * I’ve kept a journal for decades. I’ve rarely used it for any of my blogs, because I’m usually sporadic about what I write. When I was younger, it seems I wrote in it most often while traveling. The “writing” pictures you see in this blog are extracts from the journal. I’ve told this particular story several times before, but never looked in my journal to see if I recorded it. I was looking for something else, and came across these entries. My memory was pretty close to what I had written, although I didn’t specifically remember going to Giordano’s, drinking tequila that night, or the breakfast the next day. Those recollections are straight from the journal.

⁃ Thanks to June (Tim Stouffer) and Howard (Kim Johnson) for contributing to this blog. Thanks even more for being lifelong friends.

⁃ If you want to learn more about the NEACP, you can do so here: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boeing_E-4 .

⁃ The job I had in the Army at the time was pretty interesting, and involved Nuclear Command and Control (C2) systems, among other things. A week after this trip on NEACP, I went to Norfolk for a week and was on the USS Nassau, a Tarawa Class Amphibious Assault ship. We were again testing Nuclear C2 systems.