ACBN Friday #300
It's a milestone Friday here at the ACBN, and I'm going full-send.
You wanna know my secret?
I simply don’t know how to stop.
I launched The Action Cookbook Newsletter a little over six years ago, and since then I’ve published (I think) 833 newsletters here, a number only rivaled in ridiculousness by the fact that some of you have read nearly all of them. (Thank you for doing so.)
A few months into this effort, I settled into a regular, if not-exactly-novel, format for my Friday Newsletters: I’d share a selection of ACBN-Certified Good Things for the weekend ahead, a rotating list nearly always featuring a recipe, a cocktail, a music recommendation and a book recommendation, along with reader-submitted pet photos. This ever-so-creatively-titled “Friday Newsletter” isn’t all that the ACBN has to offer, of course—there’s also my fiction writing, essays on parenting and sports and whatever else tickles my fancy—but it has become the most reliable part of the newsletter. I plan these out weeks or even months in advance, and gearing up for each Friday has become an essential part of my weekly routine.
Well, if I’ve counted correctly—and there’s simply no assurances of that, so let’s just roll with it—today marks the 300th edition of the Friday Newsletter. That’s hundreds of recipes, hundreds of cocktails, hundreds of music, book and other entertainment recs, and countless hundreds of reader-submitted pet photos.
Today is no exception.
To mark this momentous occasion, I’m bringing my A-game: I’ve got an over-the-top exercise in Global Dumb Food, a two-part exercise in mixological excess, some great new music, a terrific book, pets and more!
As always, it’s Friday, my friends. Let’s ride.
But first, some business!
Every summer, I take a short break from writing.
Readership is slower in the summer months as it is, with many of you on vacation or otherwise off your normal schedules, but really, I just need a break sometimes, too. I’m taking my family on vacation the next week-plus, and the last thing I want to be doing is sending emails from across the ocean.
With that in mind, I’m going to take off the next two weeks, returning to your inboxes on July 28th or 29th. I appreciate your understanding, and look forward to coming back at full strength for August and everything after.
(I’ve already got some terrific food ideas brewing; August might be my single favorite food month.)
(Don’t say I didn’t warn you.)
Now, on with the show.
Dumb Food is an International Language
It’s tempting to think of Dumb Food—a term I quite obviously use lovingly, given my long history in making and promoting it—as a uniquely American phenomenon. I mean, we’re the country that invented the stuffed-crust pizza, the Doritos Loco Taco and the KFC Double Down. Heck, just this week, the Minnesota State Fair released their annual preview of the frankenfoods that’ll grace the midway in the Land of 10,000 Lakes later this summer, and it includes such truly inspired creations as a falafel-waffle, a cheeseburger served between two deep-fried Uncrustables, and something called “Timber Twists” that I’m pretty sure could kill a man.
Don’t get it twisted, though—Dumb Food isn’t a strictly American thing.
One of the few things that truly unites humanity across borders and boundaries is the irresistible desire to Eat Something Stupid. From Japanese Pizza Hut to Uruguayan Chivitos to the Wigan Kebab and all manner of ambitious Turkish and Brazilian chefs I see on Instagram, Dumb Food is the world’s universal language.
I couldn’t let a milestone newsletter like today’s pass without taking a go at making some Dumb Food, and in anticipation of my vacation, I’m taking a global view.
Two years ago, I made an attempt at French Tacos, a hybrid food that originated in kebab shops in Rhône-Alpes in the mid-2000s. The dish has many variations, but generally consists of gyro meat, fries, French cheese and a spicy sauce, griddled up in a quesadilla-like format.
That is to say: it rocks.
Scott Hines
The version I made back then was very good, but here, I wanted to take that basic idea and present it as a platter, something more like Disco Fries. The real key would be something I missed the first time—Algérienne Sauce, a spicy mayo with harissa and a bunch of other ingredients in it that’s usually included with French Tacos.
Euro Disco Fries
First, the main components:
- Fries (note below)
- Gyro Meat (note below)
- French Cheese Sauce (recipe below)
- Algérienne Sauce (recipe below)
- chopped tomatoes, onions, cilantro and/or parsley
Fries — I am not dumb enough to try and make my own French fries. We have a potato industry that rivals our space program in both innovation and funding, and Ore-Ida’s Extra Crispy Fast Food Fries are very good as far as frozen fries go.
(This is not a sponsored recommendation. If I ever get Potato Money, you’ll know.)
Gyro Meat — I am, however, dumb enough to try to make my own Gyro Meat. I used a blend of ground lamb and beef and spices that I pulsed down in food processor and baked before slicing and griddling. It was good enough, but it was not as good as simply buying pre-made gyro meat would have been. I will not be sharing this part of the recipe, other than to offer up my own hubris as a cautionary tale.
French Cheese Sauce — okay, now we’re talking. This was a riff on Serious Eats’ Nacho Cheese Sauce, with the cheddar swapped out for French cheeses:
- 8 ounces Gruyere cheese, grated
- 1 tablespoon cornstarch
- 12 ounces evaporated milk
Toss the grated cheese with the cornstarch, then add to a small pot with the evaporated milk. Cook over low heat, stirring frequently, until it’s melty and smooth.
Algérienne Sauce — this was my favorite part, and the runaway hit of the meal. This condiment with fries (or a burger) alone would be worth the trip.
- 2 cloves garlic
- 1 egg
- 1 teaspoon Colman’s dry mustard
- Juice of 1 lemon
- 1 cup neutral oil
- 1 teaspoon ground cumin
- 2 shallots, chopped
- 1 tablespoon tomato paste
- 1 tablespoon harissa
- 1 teaspoon capers
- 1/4 cup cilantro, rougly chopped
- Black pepper, to taste
Add the garlic, egg, dry mustard and lemon juice to a jar just wide enough to fit an immersion blender, and pour the oil over top. Stick the immersion blender in the bottom, turn it on, and slowly raise until it’s emulsified into mayonnaise. Fold in the cumin, shallots, tomato paste, harissa, capers, cilantro and black pepper, and pulse until everything’s well-combined but still chunky.
Now? Assembly! Cover a good serving of the fries (bake them first, but I assume you knew that) with griddle-crisped gyro meat and cheese sauce, then top with the Algérienne Sauce, tomatoes, onions, and herbs.
Look at that. It’s dumb. It’s ugly. It’s a mess.
It was also absolutely glorious, a Gallic Garbage Plate worth storming the Bastille for.
Vive la France, and pass the Algérienne Sauce. Let’s make some drinks.
You don’t have to go home, but you do have to go big
The last couple months, I’ve been dabbling in Tiki-inspired drinks. I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something about the sheer maximalism of them that appeals to me right now—like, if we’re gonna make a drink, why not make a drink with a ton of esoteric ingredients?
Well, this is the culmination (if not the end) of that effort.
Before departing for my summer break, I feel compelled to leave you with the most elaborate cocktail I can, something that employs a veritable arsenal of ingredients from my bar and beyond. I wanted to find out just how much Good Stuff I could fit into a single drink without overdoing it, and I pulled it off. Then, because the odds of you having all of this stuff on hand are rather low, I developed a pared-down version, one hits many of the same notes in half the moves.
I call these two drinks the Bird in the Hand and Two in the Bush.
First, the over-the-top one…
