Adventures into Bisque

I was first introduced to the word “bisque” in an episode of Seinfeld. It is actually one of the most famous episodes, The Soup Nazi. I think it is Jerry that orders the crab bisque and says that it is so good that your knees buckle, so you have to sit down before eating it. I don’t know why, but I can remember sitting there on the couch, and wondering what bisque was, and why it was so good that you had to sit down to eat it.

I never really had a chance to eat a bisque until fairly recently. I think it isn’t really something that is all too common in the type of restaurant that I went to growing up. I always imagined something rich and hearty with a strong tomato-ish flavor to it. Kind of like minestrone, but it would actually taste good, and have bits of sea food in it.

Fast forward 11 years, to my honeymoon; Roni and I went to Monterey. We had already decided that we would eat out at better than average places pretty much every night (especially after our experience at the worst restaurant of all time… Norma’s Res ran!), because we wouldn’t be able to do so again for a very long time, maybe ever. So in the spirit of ‘living it up’ we went to the Sardine Factory. Now, I bet you are thinking, “Sardine… Factory…? I thought you said that you were living it up?” But in all reality, it is a really nice place, and I really doubt that they serve canned sardines at the Sardine Factory. It is often said to be the nicest restaurant in Monterey, and that should be saying something.

[funny sidenote from while we were there, maybe Roni has blogged about the lady with the cat plate? If not… I will request that the story be put up soon, it is pretty awesome.]

I figured that since we were at a really nice place, we might as well order some really nice food. I just about died when I saw “abalone bisque” on the menu. Here was my chance! The waiter assured me that it is world famous, so I figured I would indulge my childhood fantasy and order the world famous abalone bisque. When it came out I was surprised. It looked like he had brought out a bowl of thick cream. Where were the chunks? How was this going to have any flavor that was worthy of the title “world famous?”

A first impression has never been so wrong. It was a wonderful soup. A soft, almost velvety texture with a most amazing flavor. Best. Soup. Ever. No kidding people. If I am ever in Monterey again, I might go to the Sardine Factory and just order a bowl of the abalone bisque. Maybe two bowls. It is that good. I was in love with bisque, and I suddenly understood that yes, this soup is so good you had better be sitting when you have it.

A few weeks earlier, I had eaten, for the first time, lobster. Mom and Dad took Roni and I out for a congratulatory dinner at the Buckhorn, a few days before our wedding. I figured that I would try lobster, and it was SO GOOD. I thought it would be like a big shrimp, a jumbo jumbo shrimp if you will, but it was so much better than any shrimp.

So as I sat there eating my bisque, contemplating the creamy goodness of it, an idea struck me. LOBSTER BISQUE! I became obsessed with the idea of it, and finally, this past week, my opportunity came. The local grocery store was having a sale on lobster tails, and I somehow talked Roni into putting it into our budget for the week.

I searched online and found an easy, but still tasty sounding, recipe for lobster bisque. It took a while to do, and it ended with me dumping the hot soup into the blender and then straining it. Well, it wasn’t as good as the mind altering experience at Sardine Factory, but it wasn’t bad either. My appetite for bisque has been satiated once again… for now…

TRAVESTY!!

Though this isn’t exactly breaking news, the company that makes the Pop’ables brand candies, Masterfoods, has decided to no longer produce these delectable little morsels! They have been out of production since 2006, which could explain why they have been so hard to get a hold of. This is truly a cause to mourn! These malt-ball sized treats were easily the best of the snickers line! I feel robbed as a consumer because I have been denied the pleasure of ever again tasting the soft nugget and caramel mixed with just the right amount of salted peanutty goodness! They were just the right size, and were amazingly addictive. Maybe the company cut production because the sweet little guys were just too good to be true…

Worst… Food… Ever…

So do you all remember the Tracer, it was old, it blew smoke, but still could get from a to b. On the it died, over a year ago, I went to meet up with Roni in Concord. There was a festival or something going on in a nearby park, so we walked around and enjoyed the music that was playing. As we were walking around we saw this Korean restaurant, and decided to check it out. Maybe we had even decided ahead of time to go there, I can’t really remember. Anyways, the point is that we had never been to this place, and so we didn’t know anything about it.
First, you must understand there are several criteria that I use to judge how good an ethnic restaurant is. 1. Does the person greeting you at the door have an accent from the same country the food in question is from? 2. are there people from that country eating in the restaurant? 3. Are people from that country in the back cooking? So, for example, if you walk into a Chinese restaurant and the person at the door speaks with a British accent, there are elderly white people eating in the restaurant, and it looks like some kid that got fired from McDonald’s is working in the kitchen, it is best NOT to eat there. The food is probably sub par.

My first warning should have been that the door greeter was not Korean, and did not even understand the Korean greeting. My second warning should have been that there were no Koreans, or even Asians, eating in the restaurant. And, the place smelled more like a taqueria than a Korean restaurant. Nevertheless, we were hungry for Korean, so we just thought we would order something simple. I asked for bulgogi, which in all honesty, is pretty hard to mess up. This place found a way. Bulgogi means “fire meat” and it simply marinated meat cooked on a grill. My order of bulgogi came out with more vegetables than meat, and tasting like it has been seasoned with a packet of taco seasoning instead of korean pear and soy sauce (the way every bulgogi should be). Worst… Bulgogi… Ever…
However, I would have gladly traded the meal on that fateful day over the food I got yesterday. I think we can all agree that a fajita is pretty hard to mess up. But the good people of Delta, Utah sure found a way. On our way back from camping in Nevada’s Great Basin National Park, we all stopped in Delta for some food. Dad was in the mood for Mexican, so we pulled into a Mexican restaurant. Now, Mexican food in Utah is hit or miss, and this place already looked like more like Denny’s than a Mexican restaurant. But hey, I wasn’t the one paying, so my vote didn’t count for much. I was the first one to order, and I ordered fajitas off the menu. Everybody got their food before mine. When the waitress came out from the kitchen, I could hear the sound of sizzling meat and I could see the cast iron skillet she was bringing over. My hopes were high.

However, when she put it in front of me, I almost wanted to ask her if she had heard me right. I think of fajitas as looking like this. However, the mass of mush in front of me looked like peppers and onions that had been boiled in equal parts of grease and tomato paste. Everything was limp and mushy, except the chicken. The chicken looked like it had been grilled, then fried, and had the flavor and texture of slices of wood. You know how paper looks when it has oil spilled on it? That kind of translucent property it takes up? That is what happened to this poor, poor piece of meat. Add to that the fact that some of the pieces of meat still had the fat and skin attached, and it did NOT look appetizing.

I somehow managed to eat three small tortillas worth of the mush before I had to stop. Everybody seemed to wonder why I didn’t finish the whole thing. The Be of Besta even offered to finish off my uneaten portion, but after one bite of the chicken he put the rest down and said, “Well, now we know. Order the beef.” My stomach was sick for the rest of the day. Honestly, worst food ever. Maybe I will just have to lower my expectations for Mexican food in Utah…