In Another Kitchen w/ Kelly: Extra Bourbon Pie

Many bakers subscribe that great pie requires great planning. In this case, I had no pie dish, no recipe in mind, and I was in a foreign kitchen. A study of my environment revealed an estimable selection of bourbon; it was only befitting to crank out a Bourbon & Chocolate Pecan Pie.

A quick seizure of shortening, pecans, and a brick of chocolate put us in business. Some soul-heavy pie-baking music and a couple of sultry looks squeezed between the space of two bodies are what gives pie that essential zing.

Pie is not about what recipe you use. It's not science.

It's who you're making it for and what you put into it, and it changes every time.

Bake pie because they're paying you and it'll taste store-bought.

Contemplate sex the entire time and it'll be first-rate.

Use any recipe you want, but note that it'll be better if it's older than you and contains any of the following words in the URL: country, southern, Texas, Kentucky, Paula Deen. However much bourbon it calls for, be sure to add an extra tablespoon. Use a block of chocolate for tension-release chopping. Follow a simple crust recipe that only has 4 ingredients. Regret that you don't have this Emile Henry pie dish. Fool around in the bedroom while you're waiting for it to cool.

Eat the fucking thing. It's delightment.

Weekend at Club Med

I thought I had walked in on Oasis night at Hummus.

I got through three wailers by the time I had ordered my hummus platter at the counter of West Philly's latest falafel emporium. That was when they switched it up with Jack Johnson and Coldplay. If ever there was a distinct need for the distraction of good food, it was then.

The cafeteria-style Mediterranean joint need not have apologized for their guilty pleasures. But they should have completed my platter properly. What was I to do with all that hummus? I'm fond of the stuff, but the menu stated that this came with rice or fries, two salads, hummus, and pita. Anyone working there who would serve me what amounts to a full container of hummus needs a quick intro to Middle Eastern cuisine.

Seeing as I didn't want rice or fries, and would have preferred some grape leaves or tabbouleh, anything less Fast Food America, I did not march back into the thick of the Brit pop. I had chosen the hummus topped with chickpeas, and while it wasn't I-need-2/3-plate-of-that-good, it was acceptable. The fried eggplant slices were delicate and hard to botch, the pita bread itself was exceptionally fluffy. I wouldn't come here again, when my falafel heart is in the hands of others. For those that live or work nearby, I can see it being a quick no-frills lunch.

The weekend wasn't over before a new cafe had opened on my block. Mazag has moved into the cornerspot that formerly held Infusion and will bring something different to the area as a Mediterranean cafe with salads, pastries, and coffee. Think Cafe Fulya in Queen Village. Owner Dahlia is just the lovely face you want to see in the morning and she's very accomodating. There are very few people who make better coffee than I do on 10th St., and she might be one of them.

Hummus, 3931 Walnut St.
Mazag, 10th & Carpenter

Leftovers Week

No joke amongst the veg, every year around this time, there's a Quorn Roast shortage in supermarkets that carry it. If you get past your fakemeatphobia and the odd looks of the thing, Quorn is an insanely good mycoprotein (vegetarian, not vegan) that tastes like veggie turkey slices. It's considerably more moist than regular turkey and keeps for days after you roast it without drying out, giving you a future of faux turkey sandwiches. Top it off with these stats per serving: 90 calories, 1.5 g fat, 5 g fiber, and 14 g protein.

If you take your leftovers a little more seriously, Memphis Taproom's Leftover Sandwich has it all--puy lentil and pumpkin seed loaf, chestnut stuffing, dijonnaise, and cranberry compote. It combines the texture of a meatless loaf with a moist stuffing on a pillowy roll. Cranberry adds a gripping sweetness to the sandwich's layered flavors. This is a steady team effort. There's also some Chicken Fried Seitan in their seasonal additions, but I'm ready for more leftovers.

Memphis Taproom, 2331 E Cumberland S.

In the Kitchen w/ Kelly: Lemon Poppyseed Scones

I've done something peculiar. Oh, that's every day, but listen. I've switched out my morning macchiato for a chalice of Yogi green tea. I noticed a few things. Namely, that I fancied some scones.

First, for those of you on the go, the best scones in our whereabouts are those of Michael Baer (of Blue in Green--now Hot Dog Corner, 12th & Chestnut). There are some unbelievable scones sold at Greensgrow Farm, not by BAKED, but some other bakery in the Philadelphia area. Get the vanilla bean raisin. Neither are vegan, but that's where I come in.

I find great comfort in the act of baking. If you don't, go straight to the next post. The incredibly easy lemon poppyseed scones from Meg's Vegan Recipes require little-to-no finesse in the kitchen and are made on pennies. Brush the tops with some soy milk and sprinkle with sugar if you want, but I like mine only slightly sweet.

While I wait for them to bake, I practice this shimmy that Frankie Manning taught me. Let me see your Shorty George.

Veg Out: Shouk

Where is everybody? In the upstairs lounge? Bistro La Minette? They don't pack 'em in until the weekend here.

We happened in on Shouk one night for drinks, caught a feel of the lounge, and promised the bartender we'd come back for dinner. It took us a while, but we finally made it there this week. What a pity that we had not considered it sooner, for it was sublime.

I am a strong supporter of small plates. Not only do they maximize your experience and provide a thorough sampling of the chef's repertoire, they allow you to knock out all of your cravings in one go. Indecisive? Win. Nutritionally varied intake? Win. It's like testing sex positions. Everyone finds something that fits them best.

The mezze that nailed me was the hummus with sauteed mushrooms. Reminiscent of the made-to-order spread at Zahav's, I'd call this one even more remarkable. Just as silky with a bouquet of lustful fungi and some sturdy pita to clean it up with. Purple mashed potatoes, grilled eggplant, our just-because order of pasta with pesto, I could only agree with all of it.

Shouk has a definite aura, and by this point, we were wrapped in it. The interior massages you with to-the-floor couches, cushy pillows, and mood lighting. There's no fuss or rush, and the service is easygoing and natural. You won't be pressured to try a hookah, but if that was the plan? You're in fine hands.

Shouk, 622 S. 6th St.

New Vegetarian Restaurant Drops Out of the Sky, On Time

October 10th is not only the day I'm collecting my pristine Mike Richards jersey in anticipation for Saturday's game.

There's another home opener to get amped for. A while back, I mentioned the unnamed "Vegetarian Restaurant" moving into the shuttered Pita Pocket Falafel & Grille at 16th & Chancellor. Mi Lah, a gourmet veg oasis, is right on schedule and all set for next Friday (Thursday is the soft open). Culinary Institute of American trained chef Tyler Black has done time at Govinda's and Horizons. Black's wanton undertakings will make you want to sleep around the whole garden before you settle on your lifemate plate.

Hours for now are 11-3pm for lunch and 5-10pm. They'll also turn forth fresh juice and an all vegan dessert menu. Scope the entirety:

Veg Out: Cafe L'Aube

What good are those other cafes where you can't keep up with French talking points through magazines like L'Express and the Paris Match? Granted, they're a little old, but isn't your soul? Doesn't it feel like you've spent centuries pressing a mug to your lips as you draw in the mechanics of Western South Street on a weekday morning?

Cafe L'Aube certainly feels familiar, though the fig crepes and crème fraîche waffles are a foreign addition to our breakfast inventory. No disrespect to the bagels and tofu scrambles hardened into most backbones of cafe society, but sometimes one wants a bit of finesse in their fast.

To sum it up, I ate a waffle. The menu insists that these are Brussels-style gauffres, not to be confused with Liege (the dense, burnt sugar waffles from Bonte). The sunny rectangle is a mammoth, enough for two, crispy on the outside and fluffy in. Crème fraîche puddling on top gave it a slightly sour, malted taste that hit me right. A swirl of chocolate syrup added a hint of sweetness, but this was one sophisticated waffle. There couldn't have been more than 10 grams of sugar in the entire thing. If you want a dessert waffle, head to Bonte. I'll stay here.

Another key specialty of L'Aube, the crepe. I have Beau Monde on my shoulder. I have crepe mix in my cupboard right now. I wouldn't go there specifically for them, but there are some inventive fillings, both sweet and savory. The spinach and feta crepe didn't knock me out and steal my day, but I ate the entire thing.

As with any new cafe, the wait times are what they are. Exemplary waffles are a labor of love. Try a cup of Peregrine coffee while you're held up, it's notably stronger than most, and get fresh on the Sarkozys. Good things come.

Cafe L'Aube, 15th & South