Chickenless Cook of the Week: Chef Mark Dollard

This week's Chickenless Cook makes me do things I wouldn't normally do. For instance, I wouldn't normally eat out. Most restaurants are not worth my hard-earned money... especially when my hard-earned money is barely sustaining me. But at Brick & Fire, a unique pizza parlor that I would never insult with the title of "joint," owner and chef Mark Dollard gives you more than you would expect for an extremely sensible price. All crusts are handmade fresh on the premises; Guinness is three freaking fifty; and the base ingredient for their standard house salad is not iceberg, not Romaine, but a field greens mix that will actually provide you with the nutrients your body would still be starving for at the end of a typical restaurant meal. The barbeque chicken pizza pictured above is one of my husband's and my favorites.

Another thing I don't normally do is put Chickenless Cook of the Week in interview format, but Chef Dollard's answers were so entertaining I couldn't resist. Here's the word on booze, girls, and mouthwatering pizza straight from the horse's mouth.

Q: How did you get started as a chef?

A: Dishwashing. Something to pay for the car that I wanted in high school. I had no idea at the time that start would turn into a career. All I had on my mind at the time was girls. That is the basic summary of all sixteen year old boys, umm yea, girls, girls, girls, a cool car to impress girls, girls, extra money to spend on girls... Regardless, once you get the restaurant business in your blood, it’s hugely difficult to detoxify it out. I had a yearlong restaurant sobriety only to find myself depressed in an industry that lacked action, chaos, drama, beer, girls, food, fun, cooking, bad language, bad behavior, and diversity. I had trouble being surrounded by guys in ties.

Q: How/when was Brick and Fire established?

A: I actually started out on my own with a restaurant called Absinthe Bistro which was located in Church Street Station. The now infamous owner, Lou Pearlman, made off with a lot of money that wasn’t his... He went to jail and I lost my lease. At auction, Church Street Station went to... now defunct previous owner Cameron Kuhn. He insisted that I open a pizza place in my previous Absinthe spot, as “that” concept wasn’t “cool enough” to be there. In a period of 24 hours, I wrote a menu and developed an upscale pizza and wine concept and submitted it, graphics and all, to the Kuhn team. The next day I had a lease in hand. Kuhn and his dysfunctional foreclosure of Church Street Station led me to close the store and move to a free standing building on Orange Ave just a mile away... I just opened the second location in Casselberry three months ago.

Q: I've noticed your prices are very recession-friendly, especially when it comes to alcohol. Do you have a quote/philosophy that sums up your pricing strategy?

A: Quality and Quantity for Price Paid... My markup is fair and my margins are thin, like a good crust should be. The wine and beer, well if you are charged club prices for a beer then you absolutely will not sell any. I would rather sell fifty beers at two bucks, than five at five bucks. If I can pay everyone and manage to do the mortgage thing then I am happy. I do although miss making my French Bistro fare, but I will be getting there again shortly.

Q: What's your favorite item on the Brick and Fire Menu?

A: Unfair question.

Q: Favorite ingredient to work with?

A: I love working with dough. It’s a challenge to make it consistently as it, like a living thing, changes constantly. My favorite aspect of any good dough is the human skin like feel it has, silky and tender along with the historic culinary nostalgia in that bread is the “Staff of Life.” I love tomatoes too, and Ice Cream, and did I mention Girls? Denote the sarcasm as married for sixteen years now.

Q: How do you come up with new recipes?

A: I find inspiration in the strangest of places, but culinary basics are culinary basics. Vinaigrette will always have a similar balance of vinegar and oil, and sautéing will always be done the same. Creating something new is the best part of what I do, and making those changes in operations gets my blood pumping.

From top to bottom: Bruschetta, Shrimp Penne, Duck Pizza. All photos courtesy of Mark Dollard.

Many thanks to Chef Dollard for this interview, and for his awesome food!

Do you have a restaurant near you that has restored your faith in the concept of eating out? Please feel free to share in the comments. If you live in Orlando or will be visiting the area, I encourage you to check out the Brick & Fire website for their menu, address, and other information.

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Acai Black Currant Pickled Okra

While I have at least one elaborate recipe in mind for the acai black currant syrup I won from Food Finery, little everyday uses for it are adding up by the dozens. Alice Waters' recipe for Fresh-Pickled Vegetables, which can be found on page 220 of The Art of Simple Food, partially inspired me to use it in a brine for pickled okra (the original called for sugar instead). My other inspiration was Peas Love Carrots, where you can find an awesome recent post on canning Spicy Italian Pickled Okra.

My adaptation of Fresh-Pickled Vegetables from Alice Waters' The Art of Simple Food is as follows.

Acai Black Currant Pickled Okra

Ingredients

1 1/2 c. white wine vinegar

1 3/4 c. water

2 1/2 Tbsp. Acai Black Currant flavored syrup from Sonoma Syrup Co.

1/2 bay leaf

4 thyme sprigs (I didn't have fresh thyme, so I used a generous pinch dried)

Half a dried cayenne pepper or pinch dried chili flakes

1/2 tsp. coriander seeds

2 whole cloves (I used a pinch of ground cloves)

1 garlic clove, peeled and halved

Generous pinch salt

1/2 lb. okra pods, halved

Directions

Combine all ingredients except okra. Boil over high heat. Add the okra and reduce heat to medium-high. Let simmer about 15 minutes, or until the okra is no longer crunchy but not yet gooey. Lift the pods out with a spatula or slotted spoon and transfer to a heat-proof container with a lid. Set the brine aside until it has cooled enough to refrigerate. Pour the brine over the okra, put the lid on, and chill at least two hours before you start munching (Ms. Waters says you can start munching right away, but I like to wait for the okra to marinate a bit). Will last up to a couple weeks in the fridge, and you'll get even more mileage if you can it.

Remember, just four more days on the 30 Rock TV Dinner challenge! Have you posted your 30-Rock inspired dish yet? If so, let me know!

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

I Won! I Won!

...a bottle of Acai Black Currant syrup in a giveaway from Food Finery! I promised to do something fancy with it, and that will come later. At the moment, I am enjoying it in a glass of cheap shiraz. Really takes the edge off that gasoline flavor... Mmm. Thanks, Food Finery!

As if you haven't heard me gush enough about Green Flamingo Organics, here are a few more reasons to be jealous of me for volunteering there:

That's all I managed to capture on Saturday before my camera ran out of juice. Silly me, forgetting the extra batteries. I didn't even get to shoot the aquaponics pond that my husband and I dug (partially). Do you guys remember when I showed you all the carpet remnants heaped in our backyard? Well, an aquaponics pond was the plan. The carpet would have lined it. But we're in a sad, sad state of flux right now, and don't know whether we'll live in the same house come the end of the month. So we're digging one at Green Flamingo instead. I am still super-mega-fun-time-happy-excited about it, and I promise not to forget the batteries again this coming weekend.

Six days left on the 30 Rock TV Dinner challenge! What are you guys planning? Or would you rather surprise me?

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Nutella and Lemon Curd Sandwich Cookies

I know it's not very chickenless of me to share two recipes from the same cookbook in one month. Believe me, I was just going to do Cook of the Week and post this sometime down the road.

As I write this, there's a gunman on the loose within a few blocks of my house. As of fifteen minutes ago, they had no suspects and were still attempting to secure the office building where it happened. I'm sure you'll all read about this in the news later, and by then what I just told you will be out of date. But right now, I'm scared and confused. What the hell is going on? First Fort Hood, now this... What's wrong with the world? If that sicko is prowling my neighborhood right now, looking for a place to lie low, if he just busts into my house right now, I WILL NEVER KNOW WHAT WAS GOING THROUGH HIS HEAD. I may never know anyway. We may never be able to point to it. They may never prove that it's hormones in the water supply, or an undercurrent of political resentment on all sides that's finally built its way to this, or ANY ONE THING. As a human being, that makes me nervous. Human beings like to know things. They like to dissect incidents, to overcome hurdles. Puzzles with no answers are the essence of Jung's Shadow.

So if I'm so nervous, what am I doing here at my laptop, sitting on the floor so my head is below all the windows, writing about cookies? Because I may not know how to solve the tragedies of the world, but I do know cookies. Especially these cookies. I've baked them many times, and their sweet buttery perfection never fails to distract me. So at least for the short time that I'm blogging about them, I'll be the boss. Not some nutcase wandering around town with a gun. ME. I'm in charge.

And I say we're baking cookies, damn it.

We're baking Grandma Sylvia's Salt Butter Cookies on page 188 of America's Best Lost Recipes:

But we're baking them the Chickenless Kitchen way, which means that instead of the chocolate filling they tell you to use, we're using Nutella and lemon curd. And because there is currently no whiskey in the Chickenless Kitchen, we're using lemon juice instead.

Nutella and Lemon Curd Sandwich Cookies

Ingredients

2 large egg yolks

1 tsp. vanilla extract

1 tsp. lemon juice

2 sticks salted butter, softened; or 2 sticks unsalted butter plus 1/2 tsp. salt

2/3 c. granulated sugar

2 1/4 c. all-purpose flour

2 Tbsp. each Nutella and lemon curd

Directions

Heat the oven to 350.

Beat the yolks, vanilla, lemon juice, butter, and sugar in a mixing bowl.

Incorporate the flour (and salt if using).

Roll bits of dough between your palms to make balls about 3/4" across. Place on an ungreased cookie sheet and bake at 350 for 10-12 minutes. You should end up with about 36 small cookie halves. Let these cool completely (both Nutella and lemon curd are lousy to work with at high temperatures).

Once the cookies have cooled, separate them into two groups of the same number. Spread a paper-thin layer of Nutella on one group, lemon curd on the other. Take one of each (it helps if they're approximately the same size) and marry them. Press firmly, or else the lemon curd side will slide off. Makes 1 1/2 dozen sandwich cookies. Store in the refrigerator.

Just checked the news again. Apparently they have ID'd the suspect, an ex-employee who was fired last year for "performance issues." They're saying it's too soon to pinpoint that as a motivation.

They haven't physically caught him, at least not as of three minutes ago. I can hear the noise of the police helicopters over my house starting to fade. Maybe that's a good sign. Just going to have to wait and see. In the meantime my heart goes out to the victims and their families, those poor people who can't just look at pictures of cookies and make this go away.

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Frittata... WITH MEEEEEEEEEEEEEAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

If you discovered my blog sometime within the past week, you may have been duped into thinking I'm a vegetarian. Not so. I'm just a pauper who gives a damn what she puts in her mouth, and if I have to sacrifice something to lower my grocery bill, meat it is. I refuse to buy the cheap stuff that comes from inhumane, unsustainable, and unhealthy factory farms.

But when my mom is charitable enough to give me a pack of nitrate-free, hormone-free Applegate Farms turkey bacon, I ain't gonna turn it down.

As a matter of fact, I may have been overzealous with it in this case:

Yup, that's for one frittata. Singular. Bearing in mind that there were two other fatty sources of protein (cheese and eggs) present as well.

But hey, how was I supposed to know turkey bacon doesn't shrink like regular bacon?

On the plus side, I think both my husband and I made ourselves sick enough off it to get through the rest of the week feeling grateful for our chickpeas and red beans.

Here's how to make the same frittata I made. If you're not a card-carrying Atkins dieter, you may want to reduce the amount of bacon. And if you're among those feeling betrayed because you thought I was always going to be here for you with meatless recipes, feel free to throw in some tofu bacon or whatever it is you folks with will power like. (Anyone still confused regarding the name of my blog, please feel free to check out this post.)

Frittata With Turkey Bacon, Watercress, Shallot, & Swiss Cheese

Ingredients

3 eggs

1 Tbsp. plain yogurt or Oikos

1 Tbsp. olive oil

1 shallot, chopped

4 strips turkey bacon, chopped

1 c. watercress, chopped

1/2 c. Swiss cheese, diced

Directions

Heat your broiler.

Beat the eggs and yogurt together in a mixing bowl. Set aside.

In a large pan or skillet with an ovenproof handle, heat the olive oil on medium. Add the shallot and saute two minutes. Add the bacon and saute two minutes more. Add the watercress and saute three to four minutes more, or until the onions are soft and translucent and the bacon is thoroughly browned.

Turn the heat down to medium-low and distribute the cheese throughout the pan.

Stir the egg mixture and pour it over the pan's contents. Tilt the pan around to distribute evenly.

Within a few minutes, you should start to see bubbles all over the frittata. At this point, tilt the pan again to check for doneness. You should be able to see a layer of cooked egg underneath the raw that comes about halfway up your fixins.

Stick the pan under the broiler for two minutes or until it has just begun to brown on top. Remove the pan and immediately plate the frittata to keep the bottom from overcooking. To do this, shove a spatula in at the edge and rotate the pan so that the frittata comes loose (you may have to dig under it a little to free it, especially in spots where there are big hunks of cheese). Position the pan low over the serving platter so that the edge is even with where you want the edge of the frittata to end up. Tilt the pan and shake it gently. When the frittata is about halfway off, you can guide it a little with your spatula to ensure that it doesn't break in half.

Voila!

Serves 4-6 as an appetizer, 2 as a main course.

My husband and I split this for dinner. The watercress shrank a lot more than I thought it was going to, so to round out the meal, we each had some roast eggplant tossed with a handful of basil and a standard Balsamic vinaigrette. This versatile dressing/sauce/marinade is so easy I could make it in my sleep without even taking that creepy medicine that makes you sleepwalk. Just whisk three parts olive oil to one part Balsamic vinegar with a dash of dijon mustard to emulsify.

Now, how is it that a pauper like me can afford fancy-schmancy produce like shallots and The Incredible Shrinking Watercress? I must be quite the hypocrite, huh? Perhaps, but not in this case. I mentioned the other day that, thanks to a tip from a reader, I discovered a great local market in the Orlando/Winter Park area called Harvill's. All the produce I bought earlier this week came from within the state of Florida... and here's the best part:

My total for enough fruit, veggies, and herbs to feed two for a week was TWELVE DOLLARS.

If that sounds pretty standard to you, bear in mind that my husband and I do not eat like normal people. There's no cereal, pretzels, salsa, jars of spaghetti sauce, etc. in our house. When we snack, we snack on fruit and peanuts the way the cavemen did it. When I make a tomato-based sauce, it's from tomatoes and herbs. And I have a salad for lunch pretty much every day. So imagine my elation to spend TWELVE DOLLARS on what normally comprises the vast majority of my grocery bill. TWELVE DOLLARS. I'm just going to keep saying it until I believe it. TWELVE DOLLARS...

On another positive note (TWELVE DOLLARS), I am exceedingly proud of how well my food photography is coming along. I have a secret, which I will reveal to you at some point in the future I'm sure. But for now, here are a few extra shots that I liked and couldn't find anywhere to include in the body of the post:

Drop by tomorrow for a stellar Chickenless Cook of the Week, and start racking your brain about what to do for the TV Dinner challenge.

TWELVE DOLLARS!!

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

TV Dinner: 30 Rock

The Show: 30 Rock

The Challenge: Cook something inspired by the show on or before Sunday, November 15th (this gives you two full weekends to think it over). It can be based on a specific moment, or on a broad concept or character. If you have a food blog, post your results. If not, I'd still love to see your creation, so feel free to email pics and stories to dontbeawuss@gmail.com.

If you're not a 30 Rock fan, don't fret- there will be more TV Dinners to come! Let me know if you have any ideas for future challenges.

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Chickpea Stew With Dill

I know, it's like I'm not even trying anymore. What's so chickenless about chickpea stew (besides the obvious)? All I can say in my defense is that it has quite a chickenless amount of dill in it.

Chickpea Stew With Dill

Ingredients

2 Tbsp. olive oil

4 large carrots, sliced

1 rib celery, sliced

1/2 head garlic; cloves separated, peeled, and sliced

1/2 tsp. dried cumin

1/4 c. fresh dill or 1 Tbsp. dried

1 1/2 c. cooked chickpeas

2 1/2 c. veggie broth

2 c. canned/packaged diced tomatoes (I've said it before and I'll say it again: Pomi is the way to go if you don't can your own)

2 tsp. lemon juice

1/4 tsp. salt

1/8 tsp. black pepper

2 c. cooked brown rice

Directions

In a stew pot, heat the olive oil over medium-high. Add the carrots, celery, garlic, and cumin. Saute until the vegetables are soft but not falling apart, about 7 minutes. Add the dill; saute to coat. Add the chickpeas, broth, tomatoes, lemon juice, salt, and pepper. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to medium-low. Simmer 20 minutes. If you want a thick stew, stir in the rice and serve with bread. For a thinner version, spoon the rice into individual serving bowls and ladle the chickpea mixture over it. Serves 4.

I must take this opportunity to publicly retract a comment I made on someone's blog yesterday (I can't remember whose, and it's better to do it here where all my readers can see it anyway.) I said that Publix Supermarkets has a good business model and that they really take care of their employees. Well, what should happen but this evening my husband comes home from work and tells me that there's a temporary Publix boycott underway due to a human rights issue. If they raised the price of their tomatoes just a penny per pound starting this next fiscal year, they could afford to pay harvesters a living wage. For the time being, they are holding out, which sucks.

Luckily I was recently tipped off about a market called Harvill's in the Winter Park area (thanks, Nichole!) They sell a lot of local produce and farm-fresh eggs. May not necessarily be organic, but at least every fruit and vegetable I bought today came from within my home state. I'll be psyched to share pics and descriptions of what promises to be a mostly-local week!

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.