Fun With Carbs

If we’re friends in real life, or on Facebook and Twitter, you’re probably familiar with Rob’s ketchup habit. He just loves it, and it’s not uncommon for him to pour it on scrambled eggs, bowls of chicken or turkey meat, chocolate cake. Okay, I made up the last one, but trust me, it wasn’t too farfetched.

So when I mentioned online that we planned to visit Louis Lunch in New Haven, my pals collectively gasped. What would happen when an unabashed ketchup lover entered a restaurant where they’ve flat-out banned the red stuff?

Here’s a quick backstory on Louis Lunch: It’s believed to be the originator of the hamburger, back in 1900. The burgers are cooked in original cast-iron vertical grills, dating back to 1898. The patties are served on white toast with nothing but cheese, onion and tomato. Condiments are explicitly banned. No mayo, no mustard, NO KETCHUP. As fourth-generation owner Jeff Lassen told me in an interview, the policy exists to demonstrate the quality of the restaurant’s meat, which they feel is so good that condiments would only mask its taste.

To my ketchup king’s credit, he’s good about tasting foods with their intended preparation. So, no, he didn’t sneak in any contraband packets or bottles. He knew to trust that the guideline existed for a reason. We ordered one cheeseburger with the “works” – only the three approved toppings.

We sat and waited about 20 minutes for our burger. (If you’re starving, don’t expect fast food – everything is made to order.) The tiny building has just a few wooden booths and seats, carved and stamped with years of visitor graffiti. But that’s part of its charm, along with the rapid-fire exchanges between counter staff and customers.

The burger arrived, and I held my breath – I always fear that food as highly touted as Louis Lunch could be overhyped. But it exceeded expectations. The meat is as flavorful as Lassen claims, and somehow, improbably, that thick patty works perfectly with thin toast. Cheese and fresh tomato lend the moisture that would have otherwise come from a condiment, preventing the burger from tasting dry, and the onion brings out the rest of the flavors. It’s really damn good.

So good, we stopped by after dinner and took one home for the road.

Who needs ketchup?

CLOE POISSON / HARTFORD COURANT

This project is one of the most intensive (and fun) things I’ve worked on in my freelance career. In honor of National Hamburger Month, we put together a presentation of 10 iconic and noteworthy Connecticut burgers – from the fried cheese-topped Bernice Original at Shady Glen to the 12-pound “Grizzly Burger” (pictured) at Black Bear Saloon.

But I want to share one funny and staggeringly timely anecdote with you. After a series of phone interviews, lots of research and a never-ending afternoon of editing, I sat down to watch a rerun of “Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations” Monday evening. It was the “Obsessed” episode from last year, during which he speaks to chefs, writers and bloggers about their food fixations. (Click link to watch.)

One blogger took Bourdain to White Manna in Hackensack, New Jersey. And as Tony ate, the guy snapped a million photos of him and the burgers.

“You think there’s a danger of overanalyzing it?” Bourdain asked the blogger. “I mean, it’s just a fucking hamburger, man.”

PHOTO: NICK CAITO

Our dinner trip to Caseus Fromagerie & Bistro in New Haven Friday cost me 120 miles’ worth of $4 gas and probably two weeks’ worth of calories and fat grams. And all I have to say is, WHY HAVEN’T I BEEN HERE SOONER.

The meal was a straight-up bacchanal of cheese and meat, save for a few shellfish cameos.

From carefully-selected cheese and charcuterie boards to venison meatloaf and gooey macaroni and cheese tossed with fresh lobster, we ate well. Very well.

PHOTO BY NICK CAITO

One of the mix-ins for Caseus’ famed mac-and-cheese: sliced Kobe beef hot dogs. The guys decided they’d like one as a side dish, and asked if the kitchen could put it on a bun for them. “I’m not sure we have hot dog rolls, but maybe we can put it on brioche,” our waiter replied. Rob later deemed it “the best skinless hot dog I’ve ever eaten.”

PHOTO BY NICK CAITO

Our beautiful cheese board, with an array of Italian cheeses. (I thought I took a picture of the list, but it’s nowhere to be found.) In an attempt to scrape up every last bit of the amazing strawberry-citrus preserves, pictured in the middle, Emily howled, “NOOOOO” when the waiter tried to take the board away.

PHOTO BY NICK CAITO

Charcuterie heaven. Chicken liver mousse, pate, house-made sausage and prosciutto.

PHOTO BY NICK CAITO

A Friday-night special: spicy, zesty day boat scallop ceviche topped with – yes, Manchego popcorn. We all tried a bite; it was a fresh-tasting departure from our heavy dishes.

PHOTO BY NICK CAITO

Emily and I went with burgers – hers topped with extra-sharp cheddar, house-cured guanciale (bacon made from pig cheek) and fried duck egg. Mine was only slightly less decadent, with just guanciale. The burger was served on brioche with a huge pile of fantastically salty pommes frites and house-made mayonnaise. Medium-rare was perfect; red meat aficionados might even like it rare.

PHOTO BY NICK CAITO

Venison meatloaf: a big plate of comfort. The meatloaf itself was topped with a ketchup glaze and served with a pile of velvety cheddar mashed potatoes, button mushrooms and roasted Brussels sprouts.

Most of us chose beer to wash down our plates of ecstasy. Caseus’ beer list is full of interesting brews, with lots of Belgian selections and some entries from Connecticut (Rob is a new fan of Woodbridge’s New England Brewing Company.)

Beyond its tremendous bistro (with a cavernous downstairs dining area full of nooks and crannies) Caseus also operates a “cheese truck” in downtown New Haven. The truck sells made-to-order grilled cheeses with customers’ choice of add-ons; tomato soup; salads; sausages and other treats.

RICK HARTFORD / HARTFORD COURANT

Hats off to you if you get the title reference.

This week I wrote about the unique-to-Connecticut steamed cheeseburger, as served by Ted’s Restaurant. Ted’s original eatery opened in Meriden in 1959, and – after 52 years and three national TV appearances – expanded to Cromwell last month.

The steamed cheeseburger is super regional, on the menu at just a handful of places in central Connecticut. Ted’s is one of the few that specializes in the sandwich, and perhaps the most well-known.

It’s fascinating to watch employees construct the burger. Once the patty (five ounces of lean beef) is finished cooking in the steam cabinet, it’s placed onto a Kaiser roll and smothered with molten white cheddar (also melted by steam.) This video from the “Man v. Food” Hartford episode illustrates:

This was my first taste of Ted’s now-famous burger. And I really enjoyed it. The gooey cheddar was easily the best part. The burger gets mixed reviews among my Connecticut blogger friends (and Yelp) but there’s no denying it’s an experience. I was glad to have the opportunity to profile such an iconic Nutmeg State food.

I just couldn’t take it anymore. After a winter with record-breaking snowfall, endless months of freezing temperatures and resulting seasonal depression, it was time for an early taste of summer.

So when the forecast called for a sunny 60 degrees Saturday, we hit the road. First came tastings at Saltwater Farm Vineyard and Jonathan Edwards Winery. Both wineries were packed – I’m guessing most people had the same “get out of the house” mentality as we did.

And you can’t go down to the Connecticut shoreline without indulging in the fruits of the sea. In search of an early dinner, we headed up I-95 to to Bill’s Seafood, our favorite “summer shack.” It was too chilly to sit outside on the deck overlooking the Patchogue River. But that didn’t stop us from ordering a dozen Blue Point oysters, two kinds of clam chowder (creamy New England and clear Rhode Island) and two lobster rolls (hot buttered and cold lobster salad.)

The cold vs. hot lobster roll debate is one that surfaces often in Connecticut. And as I’ve said before, I wouldn’t kick a hot version off my plate. But those bites of cool, mayonnaise-laced lobster meat against toasty warm roll reminded me of happy childhood summers in Maine. Sorry, Nutmeg State. I’m going against the grain.

Our near-perfect seafood dinner would have been ideal with a little more sunshine and warmth. But that’s what the rest of summer is for.