Houston Food Blog

Photo by Robb Walsh

​I ate a brisket and sausage sandwich the other day at the new Brookstreet BBQ location on Westheimer west of Beltway 8. Ever since I ate the Bohemian Special at Mustang Creek BBQ in Louise, I have been trying to recreate the brisket and sausage sandwich at every barbecue joint I walk into. The counter man at Brookstreet had no problem with my request to make the sandwich with fatty end brisket instead of the lean flat he had out on the cutting board. And the sausage was excellent. Too bad Brookstreet uses Southern Pride barbecue ovens instead of a real pit, but what can you expect in a strip center?

​I was singing "Kielbasa" by Tenacious D when the gorgeous blond waitresses delivered my hot sausage on a sizzling comal at Polonia restaurant on Blalock the other day. "I love ya baby, but all I can think about is Kielbasa sausage."

Next time I go to a flea market and see some those flat, oval-shaped Mexican comals set in a wooden frame, I am going to buy a couple. They became famous when sizzling fajitas were first served on them in the 1990s, but I have seen the little frying pans adapted to a lot of culinary presentations. Polonia's kielbasa and sauerkraut on a sizzling comal, for instance. Is this the ultimate in Tex-Pole cuisine, or what?

Photo by jk5854

​It is a dinner that begins with pheasant sausage coupled with a robust pumpkin beer and ends with a stout (beer) ice cream.

Along the way there will be more sausage and bratwurst, a beer-braised duck and an apple tart (to go with the beer ice cream).

Once again, Chef Michael Kramer of VOICE (in Hotel ICON, 220 Main) will host a Fall Harvest Beer Dinner on Tuesday, October 13, at 7 p.m., complete with four-course meal and a variety of different kinds of beer -- all for $55 a person (plus tax and tip).

Asked who would be attracted to such a dinner, Kramer says, "People that love food, but obviously the more beer drinker. If you're not a real beer drinker it's probably not going to be your thing. Somebody who likes a little bit more hardy food."

The fall season seems to spark a new round of creativity among brewmeisters, Kramer says, hence the assortment of beer infused with essense of pumpkin and other flavors.

Contact VOICE at 832-667-4470 or online for reservations and, you know, come with an appetite.

Today's steaming Snackshot comes to us courtesy of Erika Ray and last weekend's Houston Hot Sauce Festival.

​From the photographer's description:

"Crawfish sausage in a pita with sauteed onions. YUM."

Photo by J.C. Reid

On a recent trip to the Bolivar Peninsula with a carload of friends, I stopped in the small town of Winnie, Texas for a quick pit stop at the local Texaco gas station that had a hot food counter serving mostly pizzas and fried foods.

These counters, combined with a few picnic tables outside the gas station, are becoming more prevalent in small-town Texas. As mom-and-pop restaurants and big chains close in these small towns, this concept is taking their place.

Photos by Robb Walsh

I've wanted to buy a sausage stuffer for some years now. I have tried using the sausage tube that attaches to my electric meat grinder -- that's a joke. I also bought the handy-dandy sausage-making attachment for my heavy-duty KitchenAid -- fine for a pound or two. But if you have a whole deer or a wild hog to process, you need a machine that can push the meat into the casings.

There are several models available online, and I have heard that Bass Pro sells sausage stuffers for deer hunters. The prices range between $79 for a simple pusher up to $3,500 for the German-made F. Dick electric sausage stuffer. I figured I needed something in between the two, but I never met anybody who knew the pluses and minuses of all the different models -- until yesterday.

photos by Robb Walsh

You have to thin mayonnaise with some lemon juice (and Tabasco sauce if you like) and put it into a squeeze bottle if you want to put the cool squiggles on top. But I'm getting ahead of myself. First, go to El Bolillo on Airline and buy the small size bolillos. Then get some beef hot dogs and wrap them with bacon. Fry the dogs on a griddle until the bacon is crispy. Toast the rolls, then make a slit down the middle to form a pocket. (Don't cut them in half.)

photo by Robb Walsh

The brisket in the steam table bin looked hopelessly dried out when I stopped into Barney's BBQ at FM 1960 just east of the Hardy Toll Road around 12:30 in the afternoon. I asked for a sliced brisket and sausage sandwich and requested my meat from the fatty end of the brisket. The guy doing the slicing found a fairly juicy piece of meat. I was pleasantly surprised by the quality of the brisket. I wasn't very impressed by the tiny portion. The sausage was nothing to write home about either. I asked for sauce on the bun and added the onions and pickles myself. Not a bad sandwich, all in all. But don't order from the drive-through, you need to supervise these guys.

This place is five minutes from Intercontinental Airport--it could come in handy if you need a place to buy barbecue to take on a plane.

-Robb Walsh

photo by Robb Walsh

Two Meatballs in the Italian Kitchen by Pino Luongo and Mark Straussman is a cookbook written by two Italian restaurant owners in New York. Pino is a purist from Tuscany, Mark is a populist from Queens. And the two men don't see eye to eye on meatballs.

For Mark's American customers, meatballs are the crowning glory on a mound of spaghetti. The Italian Pino insists that the big meatball is out of proportion to the skinny spaghetti and that we Americans ought to learn to eat the pasta first and the meatballs as a second course. Meatballs all by themselves, it turns out, can be an authentic Italian entrée. The discussion reminds me of the authentic Mexican versus Tex-Mex debate.

photo by Robb Walsh

Anytime I find myself anywhere near the Polish food store next to Polonia restaurant at 1900 Blalock, I stop in and buy six or eight kabonosy sausage. I am guessing the long skinny Eastern European pork sausages were the inspiration for Slim Jims--both varieties of dried sausage are eaten as a snack without any preparation. I like the ones at the Polish food store because they are moist and juicy. I eat half of them in the car and the rest at home with bread, beer, and pickles.

The Polish food store flies in around 600 pounds of sausage a week from a Polish meat market in Chicago. But during the Easter season, the amount triples. Polish Easter foods go on sale at this time of year including Polish Easter Kielbasa, a mild-flavored sausage that's available fresh or smoked. The store also sells some grilling kielbassas and some awesome veal sausages that taste great cooked al carbon. Grab some crusty bread and rose hip jam-filled donuts if they have any.

If you're having trouble finding the Polish food store, look for the sign that reads: "Kielbasa, Golabki, Pierogi."

-Robb Walsh

Photo by Margaret Downing

Click here for plenty more photos of fried goodness.

The food was carefully laid out on each judge's plate. First up, a beef burrito taco. We had palate cleansers (pickles, crackers and green grapes) and water at the ready. Cameras were clicking and video was running. A microphone was on each of the three round judging tables. It was picture perfect. The wind picked up, blowing napkins and judging slips all over the place.

It also airlifted the plate of the judge next to me. John DeMers watched as his plate and its food did a complete flip in the air and came down the wrong way. "Shit," he said, using a word he'd never put on the air doing his Delicious Mischief show on KTRH radio. Two plates later, his rice / etoufee mixture came winging my way as well. I zigged, he intercepted in mid-air and somehow it didn't land on my shirt.

Right away I knew two things: you can never tell what's going to happen in a food judging contest and how stupid can you be to wear a white shirt to one of these things.

Sure, I love all the cowboy junk inside the exhibit halls and the wicked-ass carnival rides at the carnival. I don't even mind teenaged FFA members screaming at me to buy a program. But by far, the best thing at our Houston rodeo is the food.

All the heaping, awful, death-defying foodstuffs that hit Reliant Park are proof God loves us all. The food there is a testament to millions of years of evolutionary prowess. Where else can you go to have almost every kind of meat known to man battered, barbecued, deep-fried, roasted, seared or possibly dusted with powdered sugar?

Nowhere except the Rodeo.

Last night I reached out for a Wurst Kabob and a bag of deep-fried Oreos. Which I guess is tantamount to saying that I didn't need a pesky extra five years at the end of my life. I mean really, unless we have hover boards like the ones from "Back To The Future II" by then, I may try to cut out a little earlier anyway.

"That pan sausage from Burt's is fabulous," Marcus Davis, the owner of the Breakfast Klub said. He's not alone in his opinion. Many people think the pan sausage at Burt's Meat Market is the best breakfast sausage in Houston. The sixty year-old Cajun-Creole meat market is located in the Fifth Ward at 5910 Lyons, just east of Lockwood and just north of I-10.

Marcus Davis grew up in the Fifth Ward, so when he opened the Breakfast Klub on Travis and Alabama, he proudly served Burt's pan sausage. But then the logistics got out of hand. They were going through so much sausage at the restaurant, Davis and his brother decided to start making their own blend. "I hope we can be like Burt's some day," he said.

Sunday, February 1, is the biggest alpha-male event of the year -- Super Bowl Party! The beer will flow and the steaks will grill. In the spirit of cooking up some good eats, I've put together a few recipes for the best grub for the big game.

So ladies, mosey on along. Nothing of interest to see here. Just a bunch of manly recipes for corn dogs, chili and steaks. No reason to click that "Continue reading..." link below. If necessary, I can recommend other Internet destinations.

Alright fellas, on to the Super Bowl munchies madness!

 

I was standing in the pre-packaged sausage aisle of Disco Kroger. And right there at eye level was one of the greatest head-to-head matchups in football history. Yes, I said football. Earl Campbell's Hot Links vs. Vince Young Hot Links.

The blog post wrote itself.

"The taste of Vince Young's hot links was as weak as his sidearm throwing motion."

"Earl Campbell's hot links pounded the tastebuds into submission."

But I was getting ahead of myself. Preconceptions aside, this looked like the perfect opportunity for a taste test.

For Houston drivers headed east on I-10 towards Beaumont and Louisiana, the small town of Winnie, Texas is not much more than the usual collection of truck stops, McDonald's and Super 8 motels that mark such highway oases.

But just as I-10 bends north towards Beaumont, if you look to the south you'll see a parking lot that's usually filled with pickup trucks in front of an unassuming building. Perched on top of the building's metal roof are neon letters beckoning the weary traveler to the rich rewards inside.

Cajun Cuisine.

There's nothing quite like a bowl of chili with chopped onions and saltines to warm you up on a cold winter day. And for eighty-five years, one of the best bowls of chili in the city has been served at the James Coney Island hot dog stands. The chili recipe hasn't changed in all those years, although the price has gone up a little. Chili was 15 cents and a hot dog was a nickel when the first James Coney Island opened downtown in 1923. And the most popular hot dog of the day was served with chili on top.

The Poffenberger boys at Bellville Meat Market got into the barbecue business fairly recently. It wasn't until two years ago that they started selling brisket and sausage sandwiches at the butcher shop. And according to the sign out front, they've already won some kind of award for their "2008 Grand Champion Pecan Smoked Brisket." As soon as I saw the barbecue menu, I started dreaming up a sandwich that would rival the Bohemian Special down at Mustang Creek BBQ.

I asked the counterman if he would make me a sandwich with both sliced brisket and sausage on it. I figured if you combined Poffenberger's world-class sausage with their new award-winning brisket, you could be on to something big. Unfortunately, the chopped beef was the only thing ready at 10:30 in the morning when I was there. It was a good chopped beef sandwich, but I can't wait to go back and experiment.

I'm saying the Bohemian Special at Mustang Creek B-B-Q on Highway 59 in Louise is the best barbecue sandwich in Texas. It excels by virtue of architecture alone--a mound of sliced brisket is topped with lengthwise slices of smoked Prasek's sausage and topped with thick raw onion slices and dill pickles and served on a hamburger roll to which a tiny smidgen of barbecue sauce has been applied. It is held together during the eating process with the aid of a sturdy white paper wrapper.

Mustang Creek is a gas station barbecue joint with excellent culinary credentials--they sell bottles of homemade Czech-style sauerkraut and whole pickles by the cash register. They are also neighbors of Prasek's Smokehouse which is located in the little Czech community of Hillje three miles north of Louise on 59.

This is it -- the Big Night of Tailgating in Houston. Monday Night Football is in town and our top tailgating teams will be putting on a show. Even if you don't have tickets to the game, it's worth taking the train to the Reliant Parking Lot just to take a look at the tailgating action.

Here are some highlights from earlier in the season to get you in the mood for the main event tonight. -- Robb Walsh

Tailgaters love to stuff jalapeños with cheese (usually cream cheese) and wrap meat around them. To make “atomic buffalo turds,” you stuff a half a jalapeño with a “cocktail smokie” sausage and cream cheese, wrap it with bacon, secure with a toothpick and grill until the bacon is crisp. Then there’s “armadillo eggs” made by wrapping pork sausage around a cream cheese-stuffed pepper.

In Texas, where tailgaters, trail drive riders and hunting camp cooks have lots of venison on hand, variations on this theme use deer meat. I’ve seen butterflied venison backstrap and venison hamburger meat used as the outer layer around a stuffed jalapeño--but the most common meat for this use is venison sausage. These are known by a number of names including “atomic deer turds,” or, in polite company, “venison sausage balls.”

Opa’s seemed to be the official sausage supplier in Fredericksburg. Menus at German restaurants and biergartens all over town featured Opa’s bratwurst, knackwurst and “Opa sausage,” the local nickname for a coarse ground pork and beef link officially known as “Opa’s Country Blend Smoked Sausage.” I frequently buy Opa sausage at Houston supermarkets so I couldn’t resist visiting the Opa’s Smoked Meats retail store.

The shelves were loaded with an awesome array of smoked sausages, pork loins, and all kinds of hams. A couple of white-haired ladies were cranking out some nice-looking sandwiches behind the counter. But my attention was riveted to a hot dog machine loaded with Opa sausages and bratwursts. I got an Opa sausage link on a bun with mustard for lunch.

I also picked up a catalog. I plan to order a couple of pounds of liver sausage and some of the exotic offerings like chicken and sun-dried tomato and chipotle sausage. – Robb Walsh

Speaking of processed meats…okay, we’ll wait a second for you to stop drooling. Done? Good. Now where were we? Ah, yes…

Speaking of processed meats, the good doctors at the Cancer Project filed a federal petition last week with the United States Department of Agriculture, asking the agency to ban hot dogs and other similar meats from school meals.

Sixty percent of breakfasts offered at the Houston Independent School District contain processed meats, according to the Cancer Project, which, by the way, bills itself as a national nonprofit cancer education organization.

And just what does the organization have against Jimmy Dean anyway?

On my way to Oktoberfest, I was driving through Hallettsville when I saw a sign raving about the sausage at Janak Country Market. It was only 10:30, but since sausage is my favorite breakfast food, I pulled over. After browsing the aisles of hickory-smoked sausage, ham and bacon, I ended up ordering a cup of coffee and Janak’s jumbo hot dog.

This hot dog was made with a skinny, foot-long, coarse-ground Czech sausage covered with housemade barrel sauerkraut on a fresh-baked sweet dough hot dog bun spread with excellent brown mustard.

After reading the Omnivore’s 100 Things to Eat Before You Die lists at Serious Eats and our colleague Sarah DiGregio’s Traveling Omnivore’s 20 list at the Village Voice, we got into the list-making spirit.

But the Omnivore thing was too vague for us. (One of Sarah’s 20 was “smoked brisket in Texas”-- like they all taste the same?) So we started thinking of single category lists, like Ten Texas Briskets to Eat Before You Die, or Ten New York Pizzas to Eat Before You Die.

Here’s an example:

Small town Texas meat markets turn out some amazing summer sausages. I would prefer to cruise around the countryside looking for new ones, but HEB provides a pretty decent selection too.

I saw Poffenberger’s jalapeño and cheese summer sausage on the shelf in front of the meat case there the other day. I was curious about the blue ribbon on the package. Turns out this summer sausage won best in category at the annual cured meats competition held last month in College Station by the Texas Association of Meat Processors. The Poffenberger name comes from Jerrod and Marcus Poffenberger, who are the second generation owners of the Bellville Meat Market in Bellville, just outside of Sealy.

What’s it like to judge a summer sausage competition? Is there really much difference between one small town Texas meat market summer sausage and the next? To find out, I bought four Texas summer sausages at HEB and held blind tastings last week. Some tasters also tried some venison summer sausage made by a wild game processor in La Vernia. (That’s the unmarked sausage in the photo.) It wasn’t all that popular and you can’t buy it at the store anyway, so I left it out of the vote count.

The odd but tasty Indo-American hot dog at Hot Breads Bakery on Hillcroft appears to have an automotive inspiration. The sandwich consists of six little vertical pistons of hallal chicken frankfurter baked into a deliciously soft 6-cylinder brioche-like bun and topped with a sauce of mayonnaise, onions and green peppers. We assume it was invented in India, along with the rest of this franchise chain’s fusion menu. (Goat curry croissant, anyone?)

Russell Baker has observed that eating hot dogs seems like the patriotic thing to do on the 4th of July, despite the fact that hot dogs aren’t any good--and probably never were.

I feel his pain. I have eaten a lot of bad hot dogs on this holiday. And it’s true that the vast majority of hot dogs we eat suck--except in Chicago. (New York dogs are overrated.) After spending a couple of days eating spectacular hot dogs in the Windy City for a food and travel story, I asked a sales executive at Vienna Beef what the secret was.

He introduced me to Vienna Beef’s “hot dog stand in a box” which I bought by mail order for a while, but then I noticed they were shipping “skinless” hot dogs to us poor schmucks in the provinces--nobody in Chicago eats anything that doesn’t have a natural casing. That’s the difference between the James Coney Island version and a real Chicago hot dog as well--JCI uses skinless Vienna Beef wieners. The natural casing makes a world of difference.

The East Bernard Kolache-Klobase Festival is only once a year, but Vincek’s Smokehouse (Texas 60 at U.S. 90A, 979-335-7921) offers up kolaches, homemade bread, fresh meats and smoked jerky and sausages all the time, except for Mondays, when the joint is closed.

I picked up a pound of thick-sliced, heavily smoked bacon for $4 (but more on that a little later). Vincek's has barbecue too, and it is excellent. -- Jay Francis

Where: Cecil’s, 600 West Gray, 713-527-9101

What $7 gets you: A slightly less painful hangover

We haven’t always been kind to Cecil’s over the years, but we can’t quit the place, mainly because our buddy has a dog that does well there, and also because of the pool tables. Not to mention the friendly staff, and the jukebox filled with what are basically classics by now, and the big patio for smoking if you got ‘em, and the…well, okay, we just like hanging out there.

And what we really like are the folks who come by and set up a grill on weekend evenings and cook up sausages and fajitas.