WV Gourmet

Much as I dislike the constant, nigh-insufferable mockney banter of my compatriot Jamie Oliver, I have immense respect for the man in a way that I don’t have for any other celebrity chef.

He’s a fine and (broadly) well-respected chef, proven by a successful set of restaurants, a clutch of TV shows that offer a real sense of delight in good ingredients and an appealingly slapdash approach to prep, and a decent collection of books. He makes Real Food.

But folks like that are ten a penny nowadays. Even just taking the Brit pack, there’s Nigel Slater, Nigella Lawson, and Rick Stein, all of whom boast comparable credentials and are less insufferable (to varying degrees). No, that’s not why Jamie Oliver has a special place in my affections.

It’s because of a TV series he made for the Beeb called Jamie’s School Dinners. Oliver, disgusted by the appalling crap that is shoveled into the waiting maws of British schoolchildren day after day, set out to reform the way school meals were supplied in Britain. He introduced local produce, fresh vegetables, ditched the pre-processed shit, retrained the school staff — and retrained the kids, too, when they turned their noses up at the vegetables he tried to feed them. Watch him take a boy of maybe twelve from point-blank refusing anything that’s not chips (that’s fries to you) to happily chowing down on greenery, and you’ll understand: he’s a great communicator, really cares about food, and has an infectious commitment to health and wellness that’s clearly genuine.

When I finished watching Jamie’s School Dinners, I moaned to my family for weeks. “Why can’t he come and do that here?” I said, wringing my hands at my stepdaughter’s tales of her struggles to find anything remotely healthy at school. Now, in a twist of fate that I’m still having trouble believing, he is.

Most of the folks I’ve been talking to about this show are worried that it’ll just be a flimsy attempt to laugh at all the great fat Huntingtonians, wobbling like great blancmanges from Hillbilly Hot Dogs to Fat Pattys, randomly shedding forgotten cheeseburgers from between their immense rolls of flab. Perhaps I’m naive, but I don’t think that’s his style.

School Dinners ultimately convinced Tony Blair to pour almost a third of a billion pounds into improving the quality of the horrific slop that’s served up in British schools. If Oliver can put together something even remotely like that here, it’ll be the best thing to happen to cuisine and health in the area (the state?) for years.

And if he can do that, I don’t care how much of his twaddle I have to sit through.

An update on the WV beer bill (which would amend state code to allow the selling of craft beer up to 12%, instead of the current 6% cap).

It hasn’t been shot down yet!

In fact, it’s been sent off to the finance committee. Notorious pessimist and beer lover Chris Workman called this a “good sign”. Make of that what you will. I’m trying to avoid getting my hopes up, but it’s looking encouraging.

Rich Ireland, the Charleston Gazette’s beer expert, brings us word of the latest attempt to legalize beer with an alcohol-by-volume level greater than 6%.

House Bill 2719 has been introduced and is sitting idle in the House Judiciary Committee. This year’s bill is very simplified and to the point; West Virginia should raise the permissible alcohol limit to 12%ABV on “non-intoxicating” beer…West Virginia stands only with Mississippi in proclaiming our utter ignorance when it comes to modernization of our beer laws. We can change this very easily and with absolutely nothing but a positive effect on consumer choice.

As Rich says in his post, please call or write your delegates and ask them to support this bill. A similar effort last year was stifled for fear of arousing the ire of neo-prohibitionists conservative voters. Now the election’s behind us, perhaps this is the year where we can finally get this pointless loophole closed.

There is quite a lot of garlic on this burger.

Although Fat Patty’s, a relatively new burgers-and-beers joint on the corner of 20th St. and 3rd Ave. in Huntington, conjures up images of vast, dripping, slabs of meat, it’s the imaginative toppings that really make the place memorable. The garlic-slathered meatslab to the right is the “Vampire Killer,” but other offerings include a Hawaiian-themed pineapple creation, a pepper-packed patty, and a delectable cajun-blue-cheese-bacon combination.

Despite the appetizing appearance of the sandwich, it’s a shame that the garlic seemed to be of the pre-prepared, out-of-a-jar variety rather than fresh: it has none of the sharpness and aggression that characterizes quickly cooked garlic. There’s still plenty of body, but it’s lacking the bite. It’s not going to worry any vampires.

On balance, though, it was a happy enough sandwich. I enjoyed the hefty chunk of red onion, and a generous helping of the other fixings, and the bun was generic but not too understated as to be overwhelmed or soggified by everything else. Decent, but I think I’ll opt for one of their blue cheese offerings next time. (Update: I did go back, and the “Black and Blue” is indeed absolutely delicious, removing my last reservation about this joint.)

But that’s not the best thing on that plate.

No, leave this place without ordering onion rings, and the Manson family will drive to your house and molest your cat. They’re that good. Just dark enough, with a pleasantly beery batter and a tasty core: some of the best around. Perhaps they’re frozen, but I’m inclined to doubt it.

(Hey, Patty’s, if you’re out there, how about doing BK’s “Mildly Upset Whopper” right?  I think you’ve got the ingredients and the attitude to make it work.)

If you go, go early. They were packed by 12pm on a Monday, and although their wait staff were obviously overstretched, they did a creditable job keeping up with our drink refills (no, not beer, although Patty’s full bar will doubtless be happy to satisfy any cravings you have in that direction). Despite the busy-ness and our onion-ring substitution, we were in and out in well under 45 minutes; just right for lunch. I’m already plotting an early evening return for beers, wings, and rings: Fat Patty’s is an easy recommendation.

For the love of god(s), put a Whole Foods in West Virginia.

John Mackey, you might be an anti-union libertarian vegan nutjob with what I could charitably describe as a non-mainstream view of business ethics, but I wil cheerfully donate you my firstborn if you open a Whole Foods in Charleston. (Sure, Huntington would be nice, but Charleston makes more sense for everyone.)

Seriously. I found myself walking round the Cincy branch on Saturday carefully considering the logistics of switching out our weekly grocery shop with a biweekly four-hour roundtrip to the Lexington store. And I still haven’t quite abandoned that idea.

Sure, they might not have been very good at paying their rent, but I was sorry to see Pullman Square’s Moe’s Southwest Grill close last year.

Fortunately for Huntington burrito lovers, Moe’s is back. Sure, it’s called “Dos Amigos“, but it’s a carbon copy of Moe’s, even seemingly down to the appliances and tableware.

This, as I discovered at lunch today, is emphatically a good thing. I grabbed their premium-priced pork burrito, piled with a tasty cilantro-lime flavored rice, black beans, a spicy home-made salsa, olives, and a sprinkle of fresh, shredded cilantro (yum) for $5.99, and left both well fed and happy.

It came with an acceptably heaping portion of hearty, fresh tortilla chips, and free access to a salsa bar where you’ll find a very passable, well-balanced pico de gallo and an excellent corn salsa, among other things.

Their menu is a lot slimmer than Moe’s, but they will make tacos or salads if you prefer, and offer ground beef, chicken, and steak in addition to the pork. The menu includes beer and margaritas, although neither are actually on sale just yet.

Moe’s Dos Amigos is brought to us, the Herald-Dispatch says, by the owners of the Hall of Fame cafe just across the road. As you’ll read in the link, they’re promising an emphasis on freshly made cuisine, and even though the staff were obviously still learning the ropes today, it’s a promise that rings pretty true. The marinated, slow-roasted pork was delicious, the range of salsas had been made with some skill, and the portion size was just right. I’ll be going back to try the chicken.

The best thing about it? There’s no embarassed-looking fool shouting “WELCOME TO MOE’S” at you when you walk through the door. That’s one Moe’s standby I am not sorry to see the back of.

A tip for out-of-state beer lovers: don’t come here. It sucks.

A bizarre reverse loophole in WV liquor legislation prevents the sale any beer greater than 6% alcohol by volume in West Virginia. Despite several recent efforts by pressure groups and state lawmakers, it looks as if the situation isn’t about to change, and this means that the bulk of the superb, delightful produce of the burgeoning American craft beer industry is just not sold here. The Charleston Gazette’s beer expert Rich Ireland has the full story of the collapse of the most recent attempt to fix this ridiculous situation, together with some pithy commentary with which I heartily agree.

What to do, then? Either head out of state and pick up beer at a store in the surrounding area or, if that’s not an option, get some shipped from one of the many on-line stores. Doing either of these things is probably illegal, although your chances of getting busted seem very small. (Or you can brew your own, but that’s a post for another day.)

This sad situation means many thousands of superb beers are out of the reach of many West Virginians who don’t live within easy reach of an out-of-state outlet, or can’t afford the high shipping rates of the online merchants.

Exhibit one: the American IPA, or India Pale Ale. To my mind, the finest of American beer styles, and one of the most popular creations at any craft brewery. But barring one Sierra Nevada seasonal (the delicious Anniversary, which appears in WV stores every fall and barely squeaks under the 6% line) and Harpoon IPA (which is entirely too shy and retiring for my taste) there’s nothing that qualifies as a real IPA to be found in WV; most mainstream examples fall in the 6.5% to 7.25% area.

And one of my favorite IPAs is from Bells, a brewery up in Michigan that’s among the larger of the many US microbreweries. Named Two Hearted Ale, it sports a handsome label with a picture of a trout; both the name and the imagery are owed to an Ernest Hemingway short story about a fishing trip on Michigan’s Two Hearted River.

If you’re used to the swill that passes for beer in most WV store coolers, it’ll raise your eyebrows. It’s full-bodied even for an IPA, and is towards the higher end of the ABV scale. But slosh it into a nice wide-mouthed glass — don’t, for the love of god(s), drink it from the bottle — and the hop aroma will practically fill the room. The floral, citrusy bouquet is unmistakable, and decidedly appetizing. Take a sip, and you’ll find it’s not as mouth-puckeringly bitter as some IPAs can be, despite the considerable hop flavor. Balance is the key here, and although I love the more off-the-wall IPAs many micros have developed, Two-Hearted is decidedly an easy beer to drink.

For a microbeer, it’s comparatively widely distributed in around the eastern US. My regular source is Ashland Beverage Center in Kentucky, but it should be available in good PA and VA stores too. If you know of a good supplier in other areas, let us know in the comments.