Thursday, August 31, 2006

Hilton Harrisburg's Cigar Dinner

-- George Sand


The first Hilton cigar night was soft and cool, with Steve Rudolph on the jazz keyboard.

(Name everyone in the Mike Fernandez photo above and win a Don Lino cigar at RAE's Tobacco ... on me.)

Executive chef John Reis organized hors d'oeuvres at the Outdoor Grill as kitchen staff put together the appetizer of grilled chicken, shrimp and scallops in an adjoining tent. Al Baker of RAE's Tobacco sold Africas and Auroras at a side table. Paul Flores of Miami Cigar Company rolled cigars with the Cuban pigtail, by hand.

Grilled New York strip steak was the main plat, served with a booming Plaisir de Merle Cabernet Sauvignon.



" When I'm sitting with a cigar smoker, face to face, I can have a good long conversation."

-- Ginny Roth, PPOS

A Meal In Minutes



We couldn’t figure out what this place was – or why we’d want to spend time bagging up ingredients someone else had chopped and poured.

But when Sue Gleiter Food Writer invited us to a demo night, we decided to go. As with so many things, once you add friends and a bottle of red wine it gets better.

And the demo food was tasty. After we put together our Grilled Herb Chicken, we ate Roxane Morgan’s version of Ratatouille Provencal with Cheesy Chicken Fries. Odd combo but good eating, good enough to lure us into making a reservation for a Saturday afternoon of meal prep work.

Roxane opened A Meal In Minutes after at least one meal assembly franchise on the East Shore went belly up. AMIM is not a franchise, and it’s very well done: stainless tables, fresh ingredients, simple directions, convenient wash-up and a cooler to store finished meal packages while you go on to the next station.

On our Saturday, we went to meet Cate Barron and her personal chef, Bob Vucic, along with Pauline and John Clea, who are hard at work in the photo above. We opened a bottle of Red Bicyclette, washed our hands, put on the annoying saran-wrap glove thingies and stepped up to the prep table.

For my wife and I, it was a test. We split a 12-dish meal plan with the Cleas for about $60, just to see if we’d enjoy it. We made:

* Black Bean and Cheese Burritos with Colby Jack and Cotija cheese;
* Bourbon-Molasses Pork Tenderloin, spiced with lemon juice, crushed red pepper and unspecified herbs.;
* Ginger Glazed Salmon, with ginger, pineapple and soy sauce. The marinade becomes the sauce;
* Grilled Herb Chicken, boneless, skinless breasts in a Dijon, lemon juice and fresh herb marinade, ready for the grill;
* Pan-Seared Tilapia with Chile-Lime Butter
* Cajun Smoothered Pork Chops with jalapenos and onions.

So far we’ve had the salmon and the chicken, both grilled. Very good. And - did I mention the easy part? Nice and easy, with a salad and corn on the cob.

A Meal in Minutes

Sunday, August 27, 2006

Where to start?

“To make a start
out of particulars ...”

If I could go back in time, I might be able to tell you the day my taste for cooking began. I had a great job when I was a kid. All through high school, I worked in the kitchen at Holy Spirit Hospital. My friend Tom Scheffey and I washed dishes, helped the ladies at garde manger and worked the service line.

The service line, that was intense. Especially at breakfast.

The head dietician was a nun, Sister Georgia, and her morning service line was a conveyor belt about 15 yards long. Every tray on it had a checklist of salad, soup and main plate and those plates were put on by the salad ladies and our chef, Mr. Paulie, as the tray moved toward Sister Georgia at the end of the line. There, just before the tray entered the dumbwaiter, she would snatch up the checklist and snap out, “coffee ... cream ... sugar ... butter ... jelly ... salt and pepper ...” and I would just get the coffee poured into the small stainless carafe and be grabbing for the creamers when she started on the next checklist, “tea ... extra cream ... salt substitute ...”

At that age, I’d never seen Lucille Ball’s conveyor belt skit.

Unless someone knocked a tray askew and it crashed to the floor, the belt did not stop. The food was hot. It had to get to the aides on the floors upstairs and they had to get it to the patients. Absent a crisis, the belt didn’t stop. If you weren’t working fast enough, you worked faster and better – or you got replaced on the line.


It’s more fun as a memory than it was as an experience, but it gave me a taste for decent food presented professionally ... even in an institution.