Spring is upon us and it seems like the dust might actually be settling. Our eateries are beginning to be loud and crowded again. My restaurant colleagues seem a little more relaxed although staffing is still a problem. And of course, a good basketball season always helps the mood here considerably. So, I am going to dare to return to the subject that originally came with this assignment. The food around town.
Back before the pandemic, I often explained that one reason for our bustling food scene was that we are a community of busy people, who often don’t have time to cook for themselves. It will be interesting to see how things evolve now that people have been made to rediscover cooking at home and to realize how much of their work can be done from there. I personally got really sick of sitting around my house, but let’s see how everyone else feels. There are a lot of places to eat here! I plan to randomly visit restaurants, old and new to see what’s up. Over the last two years every place that stayed open had to constantly alter their routines as circumstances changed. Menus, hour of operation, ways to pay, elaborate plans for takeout and delivery, sidewalk dining, you name it, were in constant flux. And absolutely everything became more expensive. So, let’s see where things stand now.
I returned to an old favorite, Linda’s on East Franklin St. Like lots of places, it had opened and closed several times during the last few years but is now back to a regular schedule. They have outdoor tables and several take-out options. I treated myself to the justifiably famous pot roast special. I got the half portion, which I thought was huge. A nap was then in order.
I don’t see much classical music, but the Mahler Chamber Orchestra, conducted by Mitsuko Uchida was at Memorial Hall. I never miss their concerts so I resumed a pleasant ritual for the first time in several years. I got dressed up and went to the bar at The Carolina Inn before the performance for a glass of bubbly and a quick bite, on this evening, a plate of Calabash style fried shrimp. You can walk to the concert hall from there. I usually grab a second glass of Champagne at the little lobby bar before the show, but alas that hadn’t reopened yet. All the same, I felt very fancy and this seemed like a very Chapel Hill thing to do.
Perhaps because of basketball games or great shows in the clubs, I’ve been going out a whole lot this spring. The fact that I sat at my kitchen table and stared out of the window for two years probably has something to do with it as well. I was so wound up after the Carolina Duke game that merely going down to Franklin Street wasn’t enough. It took a Negroni and fried chicken sliders from The Northside District on Rosemary Street to finally get me home. I love that they serve food until really late every night.
And lastly, when I needed a sort of fancy sit down lunch for visiting friends on a Saturday, I found a delicious one at Tandem in Carrboro. We finished off with their beignets served with ice cream and warm cider.
Last month we had Mardi Gras which means that this month we have Lent. I grew up Catholic in the 1950s when the rules about fasting and doing without were quite strict. This led to many a fish fry each spring. I love fried fish and it seems like a fish recipe is in order this month. One of the most popular items on my menu at Crook’s Corner was Catfish Amandine. You can use other kinds of fish with this preparation if you like. I cooked a piece of flounder from Tom Robinson’s Seafood to re-test this yesterday. I then ate it before I remembered to take a picture, so you’ll have to use your imagination here.
The best fried anything in my book is produced by using self-rising flour and buttermilk. This makes a big puffy crust. I have nothing to say to people who complain about too much breading on fried foods. The traditional cornmeal is replaced here with maseca or corn flour. I learned this trick in New Orleans, not Mexico.
Catfish Amandine
(serves four)
- 1 cup whole buttermilk
- 1 egg
- 4 catfish filets (6 to 8 ounces each)
- ½ cup self-rising flour
- ½ cup maseca
- ½ teaspoon salt
- Cooking oil or clarified butter
- ½ stick unsalted butter, sliced into pieces
- 1 cup sliced (and blanched, if you can find them) almonds
- 1 lemon, cut in half lengthwise. Pick out any seeds that you see.
Beat the buttermilk and the egg together very, very well. Put the filets into the buttermilk. Thoroughly mix the flour, maseca and salt together. In a restaurant kitchen you are probably going to find buckets of clarified butter. Not so much at home and it’s hard to clarify a little bit, so any mild cooking oil will do here. Put about an eighth of an inch of it in your largest frying pan. The pan probably isn’t large enough to cook all of the fish at once, so set your oven to 300° and have an oven-proof platter at hand. Take the filets out of the milk, shake them off and press them into the flour mixture, coating both sides. Put the frying pan on medium high heat. I usually press the fish in the flour a second time for good measure on the way to the skillet. Don’t crowd the pan. Catfish is denser than most white fish. Get it good and brown on both sides. It should be done through but check at the thickest part to be sure. Put the filets on the platter and keep them warm in the oven.
Pour off any excess oil from the pan. Browned flour crumbs are ok. Return it to the stove and turn the heat to high. Add all of the butter. As soon as it is a little bit melted, add the almonds. Swirl the pan constantly until the butter and the almonds are golden brown and have a nice toasty aroma. Turn off the heat and squeeze the lemon halves over the pan right away. Pour the nuts and butter over the fish and serve at once. Your favorite slaw would make a nice side.
“Just The Bill, Please” is a regular column on Chapelboro.com penned by local culinary legend Bill Smith. Born and raised in New Bern, Bill Smith spent 25 years heading up the kitchen in Crook’s Corner — and over the years, he accumulated the accolades to match his incomparable takes on classic Southern food.
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