Fried Chicken Cold Case

While all signs point to a declining appetite for fast food hamburgers, fried chicken sandwiches are hot and ready to take up the slack. You’d think that simply slapping a bun around the standard staple would be a forgettable adaptation, but less than 80 years ago, it simply wasn’t done.

That historical oversight has now been corrected with a dizzying swiftness that borders on violence. Anyone can and will attempt to peddle their own version with widely varied results. I think we can all agree that no matter what, the best versions should be immaculately crisp, audaciously juicy, and boldly seasoned. Toppings should be minimal to allow that thick patty to shine.

Sink your teeth into the plush brioche bun, meeting just the slightest resistance from a toasted edge, before reaching the treasure within. Crisp, cool coleslaw contrasts against the star of the show at the center of the action, dressed in its finest golden-brown fried breading. Ketchup, both sharp and sweet, anchors the bite in comforting nostalgia. It’s all so satisfying, so familiar, and yet… Melting away, like a half-forgotten dream.

April Fools!

It would be tough to truly trick someone with this trompe l’œil ice cream sandwich, a dessert masquerading as lunch, though the best pranks are harmlessly on par, if you ask me. Inspired by “fried” ice cream which has never once gone near a vat of bubbling oil, it starts with a pint of vegan ice cream sliced into four perfect rounds. Crushed corn flake cereal is pressed into the surface to form a crunchy crust, then stashed in the freezer until ready to serve. Shredded green apples with a touch of lemon, maple syrup, and mint makeup the slaw, while the ketchup is merely thinned-out strawberry jam. The bun is still a toasted brioche bun, sweet enough to pass muster as a confection as is.

Is it excessive? Sure, and isn’t a proper fried chicken sandwich squarely over the line for everyday indulgence, too? For a crowd-pleasing shortcut, you could always just serve your chicken-fried ice cream over waffles with maple syrup. If you play your cards right, that could even be considered an acceptable breakfast, no fooling.

Hannah (BitterSweet)3 Comments

The X Factor

I know, I’m a cheap date, but one of my favorite things at Eldorado Cafe is completely free. The first basket brimming with tortilla chips arrives sometimes before you even secure a seat, no questions asked, aside from which type of salsa you want. From mild to wild, there’s not a single wrong answer, and it would serve you well to double down with an extra order or two. However, I can confidently say that Salsa X, which falls in the middle of the road in terms of heat, is absolutely at the top of the hierarchy.

What is Salsa X?

Salsa X could easily be overlooked. Rusty orange, emulsified to a creamy consistency, it’s smooth aside from some flecks of charred chilies and spice. Unadorned and unpretentious, the flavors speak for themselves. Deeply roasted tomatoes, ripe with umami, meet with a gradual heat that builds to a comfortable smolder. Balanced by acidity to cut through the richness of the roasted elements, there’s a subtle, natural sweetness that smooths out the edges, preventing any bitterness from creeping in. For something so simple, it’s remarkably layered in complex flavor.

Taking second place twice in the Austin Chronicle Hot Sauce Festival for the restaurant red sauce category, I know I’m not alone in my obsession. Still, no one seems to have quite cracked the code for a perfect replica, nor even figured out why it’s called “Salsa X.” I can’t help with the latter, but I’d like to take a shot at the former.

Making Salsa X at Home

To reverse engineer this Tex-Mex masterpiece, we need to start at the source. A bit of internet sleuthing reveals the base ingredients: tomato, onion, garlic, chile de arbol, chile morita, water, oil, salt. From there, it strikes me as having a similar construction as doña sauce, replacing the fresh jalapeño with toasted chilies, and roasting up tomatoes and onions for a bit more body. Could it really be that simple?

I would never be so bold as to say that it’s perfect replica. I would, however, say that it’s pretty damn close. Smooth, subtly smoky, and savory, with heat that slowly blooms, but never overwhelms.

Every ingredient, few as they are, carries incredible weight in the final blend. Technique is just as important too; this is no dump-and-stir recipe. Take time to properly roast the vegetables and toast the chilies, and your patience will be rewarded. Restaurants benefit from scale, equipment, and repetition that’s hard to match, but home cooks have the upper hand when it comes to attention to detail. You have the power to adjust to taste, either in the heat or consistency, until it’s just right. Maybe, you’ll end up with something entirely different, in a good way. Maybe you’re just a step away from discovering Salsa Y or Z.

Until Eldorado Cafe takes mercy on us salsa-lovers and bottles the stuff for sale nationwide, I’m reasonably content with my copycat, interspersed with visits for the real deal, of course.

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Hannah (BitterSweet)1 Comment

¡Olé! ¡Oleo Saccharum!

Oleo saccharum sounds like it belongs on a dusty apothecary shelf, christened with an antiquated Latin name and sealed up tight. While it’s true that the technique was created centuries ago in the heyday of medicinal potions veering curiously close to the realm of witchcraft, this is one concoction that’s every bit as welcome at the bar today. Calling it “syrup” like any other plain sugar solution does a disservice to the full bouquet of flavor found within. Oleo saccharum tastes like fruit that has given up its very soul into a sweet, glossy elixir.

What is Oleo Saccharum?

Oleo saccharum predates cocktail culture and even refrigeration itself. Made from scraps, it was a thrifty way to prevent waste and preserve citrus flavor long after the fruit itself had vanished from the market.

Literally meaning “oil sugar,” oleo saccharum is osmosis in action. Granulated sugar and citrus peels, not the fruit or juice itself, are always at the foundation. Sometimes that’s all it is, other times, anything from fresh rosemary to sliced jalapenos could be invited to the party. Over the course of one or two days, without any further intervention, the crystalline sweetener liquefies, infused with the pure aromatic essence locked inside the zest. What you’re left with is a syrup that tastes brighter, perfumed rather than sharp, ideal for making balanced yet bold cocktails.

How to Make Oleo Saccharum

Use a vegetable peeler, not a microplane, to slice wide ribbons of zest with as little white pith as possible. Toss them with an equal amount of sugar by weight and roughly muddle to release the essential oils. Then, all you have to do is cover and wait. By the next day, the sugar will be damp. By the following, the peels will be fully submerged in the thick, sticky liquid. Strain out the solids, pressing to reclaim every last drop, and store the syrup in the fridge for the greatest longevity. It should keep for anywhere from 1 – 3 months.

Ingredient Cheat Sheet

When you want to experiment with different additions, consider the following, but bear in mind that citrus (lemon, lime, orange, grapefruit, etc.) should always take up the bulk of the solution. Add complimentary flavors sparingly:

Fresh Herbs

  • Rosemary – piney, savory, unexpectedly elegant with grapefruit or lemon
  • Thyme – subtle and grounding; great for cocktails and glazes
  • Basil – fresh, green, almost floral with orange or lime
  • Mint – bright and cooling, especially nice with lime or lemon

Florals

  • Lavender – extremely potent, a little goes a long way
  • Rose petals – romantic and soft, especially with orange
  • Orange blossom water – citrus squared, but gentler

Spices

  • Vanilla bean – instant dessert energy
  • Cardamom pods – citrus’s best friend, especially with lemon or orange
  • Cinnamon sticks – cozy, round, and familiar
  • Pink peppercorns – floral warmth without aggression
  • Coriander – lemony and nutty
  • Fennel seed – sweet and licoricey, great with orange peel
  • Juniper berries – ideal for pairing with gin cocktails

Wildcard Accents

  • Cacao nibs – bitter chocolate perfume, great with orange
  • Coffee beans – a few crushed beans add depth and roastiness
  • Cucumber peels – light and refreshing
  • Sliced jalapeños – sharp, bright heat

Sugar Swaps

  • Demerara or turbinado sugar – deeper molasses notes
  • Palm sugar – earthy, complex, and faintly smoky; excellent with mezcal

I’ve also heard tales of swapping out the citrus base for things as wild as banana peels and apple peels, but you’re on your own with those experiments.

Where Oleo Saccharum Shines

Oleo saccharum is a bartender’s best friend, perfect for using instead of less potent simple syrup, but that’s far from the end of it. beyond cocktails, consider:

  • Mixing into mocktails
  • Brushing on cakes before frosting
  • Whisk into vinaigrettes
  • Blend into ice cream or sorbet bases
  • Sweeten pudding, mousse, or even oatmeal

Oleo saccharum is an old fashioned antidote to modern waste. If you, too, can look at a pile of discarded peels and see potential instead of trash, oleo saccharum is for you. Extracting every last drop of life from what we usually throw away makes the transformation all the more gratifying. Anyone with a bit of sugar and patience can pull off such a feat. All you need to do is get started.

Hannah (BitterSweet)4 Comments

He Said, She Said, They Did

Is it a controversial statement that I think she-crab soup is unnecessarily gendered? Yes, it’s true that traditionally, this coastal delicacy employed only female crabs for their rich vermilion roe, giving it the edge over comparatively lean he-crab soup. In the current modern era, however, when we’re talking about a vegan version that uses neither sex, the designation makes no sense. They-Crab Soup is the only fitting moniker for this southern staple, if you ask me.

Originally created for President William Howard Taft who was a known fan of turtle soup, an even more antiquated dish that has mercifully disappeared from menus since, this crabby variation has a lot in common with what we would recognize today as a chowder or bisque. What sets it apart is the use of white rice as a thickening agent, creating a voluptuous texture without the need to hammer in the heavy cream. There’s a hint of tomato for ample umami, the warmth of smoked paprika for depth, and the standard sort of mirepoix to hold down the fort. It’s a fool-proof combination that’s an easy win for any diner, even a president.

Specifically for my recipe renovation, shredded oyster mushrooms replace crabs of any gender with ease. When pulled apart by hand, they mimic the delicate strands of shellfish remarkably well, soaking up the briny broth like they were born for the task. A touch of kelp granules and capers lends an unmistakable oceanic briny kiss to complete the effect. What emerges is a soup that honors the spirit of the original without clinging to its baggage. Built on technique and balance, not biology, it succeeds for the same reason the original did: it’s deeply comforting and undeniably delicious. Call it what you like, but once you taste it, the argument feels beside the point.

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Hannah (BitterSweet)2 Comments

Taking Back Chinese Take Out

Long before DoorDash or UberEats were household names and the era of no-contact delivery propelled them into ubiquity, Chinese food was already waiting at the door. It arrived folded into paper bags, steaming through waxy cartons, sweet, spicy, and dependable in a way few other cuisines were. Compact menus, speedy service, and dishes designed to travel made it a natural fit for life on the go, decades before anyone thought to put dinner on an app. By the mid-20th century, Chinese takeout had become a fixture of American cities and suburbs alike, offering an affordable, reliable comfort that felt both exotic and familiar.

Wok This Way

That same logic is exactly why Chinese takeout translates so well to home cooking. Many of its most iconic dishes are built on a flexible framework rather than rigid recipes, featuring a protein sliced thin for speed, vegetables that are entirely interchangeable, and a sauce assembled from a short list of pantry staples. Soy sauce, aromatics, and a thickener form the backbone, adjusted slightly to swing towards citrus, umami, spice, or simple indulgence. Understanding this structure makes it possible to recreate takeout favorites at home even faster than you can tap “complete order.”

Soy Friendly

Although distinctly different from the diverse dishes of mainland China, Chinese-American food is no less valid as a regional cuisine. Bringing it back into our own kitchens gives us more control to adapt dishes to taste, use what we have on hand, and end up with equally tasty, if not even better, results.

The following recipes are a few of my favorite takes on classic Chinese takeout. For quick fix cravings, they’ve never steered me wrong.

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Hannah (BitterSweet)7 Comments