This week we're getting chip-faced, and giving you the skinny on dip. We also welcome our first Guest Gulletier [guhl-let-e-yey] to the table.
Guac It to Me - Kitty
On Saturday night, Kate, Elise, and I decided to get together for a little din din. We hit up Diego's in Wayland Square; the northern counterpart to Diego's popular Newport location. We went buck wild and ordered two dips to start: the queso and the guac. To our surprise (and delight), the guacamole on offer was a special whose flair was added street corn. “SOLD!”, we said in unison. When she arrived all green and fresh with bits of charred corn, onion, and tomatoes I knew the other dip didn’t stand a chance. Queso, who? The best part was the spicy “crema" drizzled on top, some sort of mayo and lime situation with a bold kick. Was there cotija cheese? You fuckin' betcha. The vessels that ushered guac to lips were house-made tortilla chips seasoned with a dusting of chili powder. Elote, forever.
The verdict: Food win.
Name drop: Diego’s
A Hard Chip to Crack - Greg
A shock this week to discover that my Key Foods carries a current potato paramour: Torres Chips. I thought the best I could come to expect from said grocer was Mi Niña. It turns out the buyer in the bakery department had bigger dreams than “a little heat, a little sweet” and took a chance on a bold new kind of Torres; FRIED EGG. I’ve thrown back some questionable flavors of chips (BBQ Sausage & Onion Pringles), but fried egg? I’m a big fan of their Black Truffle and Meditterean Herb varieties, so the gotta catch ‘em all spirit was strong. In my cart they went. Upon returning home, I cracked open the bag and popped a few in the pie hole. They tasted salty, buttery, and…earthy. I didn’t love it. I didn’t hate it. I just found myself mindlessly reaching for more. After about 15 chips, the shoveling came to a screeching halt as the rich yolky profile suddenly turned sour. Cut to this Friday, I had some friends over and thought it would be fun to do a blind taste test to see if they could identify the flavor. Here were the guesses: fried chicken, roasted pork, chicken McNuggets and one reported: umami. It feels slightly cursed that almost everyone guessed the animal and not the byproduct. After revealing the actual flavor, all agreed that an underlying savory protein tanginess was present. Go figure! Half the group said they could only stomach a few chips (and yes, they did like them!), while the others said they could devour the whole bag. These were fun, but I think I'll whip up some chilaquiles next time I want fried eggs on my chips.
The verdict: Experiential food win, flavor food neutral.
Side dish: There are even *wilder* varieties of Torres haunting charcuterie shops, including Foie Gras, Iberian Ham, and Sparkling Wine! Please report if any of these flavors have hit your tongue.
Name drop: Torres Fried Egg flavored chips
And now for a dish served hot by our first Guest Gulletier, Wendy Wood.
Fritos On A Chili Day - Wendy
This January, to eat healthier and save money (the usual New Year’s nonsense), we have been mostly preparing meals at home, which run the gamut from delightful to disappointing. After a few weeks of non-memorable meals and some frigid days (23 F-cold for England), I leaned into a nostalgia-heavy dish guaranteed to lift me out of the winter doldrums. Enter Frito Pie.
Frito Pie is best devoured on the couch while binge-watching 90s TV shows. There are many interpretations, but in my childhood household, it consisted of a bowl with a base layer of crumbled Fritos, topped with grandpa’s chili, and garnished with an obscene amount of shredded Monterey Jack cheese. The first bite is the best; the Fritos are at their crunchiest and the chili is smoky, spicy, and flavorful. The cheese adds the perfect creamy tang at the end.
Since living in the UK, Fritos are impossible to come by, and tortilla chips will just not do. I resort to begging visitors from the US to bring me Costco-size bags, or schlep myself to West London to “The American Shop” where I can pay £6 ($12) for a snack-size bag. I now think of the humble Frito chip as a delicacy.
The chili is much easier to approximate. My grandfather always made the chili in our household—it was his meal. True to his military background, he would make enough to feed an army and store it in plastic tubs in the freezer. When he passed away in 2016, one container was still stored away and my mom waited forever before she finally unthawed that last batch.
I imagine my chili tastes like his—salty, spicy, beefy, bean-y. It has most of the same ingredients and nothing fancy. Canned (or tinned, as the English say) red beans, ground beef, canned chopped tomatoes, beef broth, chili powder, cumin and cayenne pepper. Optional additions include beer or cocoa powder. I think my grandpa also used to pour the leftover coffee into his chili.
Frito pie is not complete without the cheese. No chance of finding Monterey Jack in the land of Cheddar! The amount of cheddar cheese options in every grocery store in the UK is astounding. Blocks the size of a dictionary with different strengths, my favorite being the mature, crunchy one. For the chili, we opt for a mild cheddar.
I recently started making the chili in a slow cooker so that the aroma gradually builds as the day goes on. If you’ve been out all day, it’s the most comforting thing to come home to and sometimes that’s exactly what this ever-so-slightly homesick American needs. After all, who doesn’t want chips for dinner?
The verdict: A nostalgic food win.
Let us know what’s going down your gullet! Drop us a note at putitinthegullet@gmail.com
Not the blind taste test failure report!!