Hot Douggin' it
A few days ago, Randy and I exercised our rights as Unshackled (read: Unemployed) People Who Take Lengthy, Indulgent Lunches and drove over to Hot Doug's to sample a couple of extraordinary examples of encased meats.
This was only my second visit to Hot Doug's, but it's the kind of place where you sit down, take one bite of your food and begin wondering whether it might be possible for you to undertake a thoroughly researched and highly scientific study of exactly everything on their menu. Could I do it? I think so, yes, if one of my loyal readers is willing to underwrite the cost of a lifetime supply of Pravachol.
Speaking of which, the foie gras levels in my system had grown perilously low since my departure from Paris (seriously, my hands were shaking, my breathing jagged, etc.), so I felt obligated to replenish my body's fatty duck liver stores by ordering the weekly special: Foie Gras and Sauternes Duck Sausage with Truffle Sauce Moutarde, Goat Cheese and Foie Gras "Butter".
Let me repeat that. Foie Gras and Sauternes Duck Sausage with Truffle Sauce Moutarde, Goat Cheese and Foie Gras "Butter".
I admit, I was skeptical. I thought it sounded overdone, too Baroque, too embellished, too American. Sort of like that last sentence. But in this case, Mae West was right: too much of a good thing can be wonderful. Doug is a master. The sausage was rich and robust with duck flavor; the moutarde was thick with flecks of black truffle, and the hearty chunks of goat cheese sprinkled atop the dog mirrored the texture of the foie gras without overpowering it.
Before living in Paris, such a meal might have posed problems for me. I would have eaten slowly and lacked confidence, worried about the impending gastronomic implications of eating so much fatty stuff. But now, after my Olympic food training, I knocked back that dog in about five minutes and snarfed down way more than my fair share of cheese fries, even though the cheese topping was of the inferior variety that I kvetched about in an earlier post.
I vaguely recall that Randy ordered a chorizo sausage topped with mole and chihuahua cheese. I'm sure it was great, but my tastebuds were too riveted on my meal to notice.
What did I order again? Oh yeah. FOIE GRAS AND SAUTERNES DUCK SAUSAGE WITH TRUFFLE SAUCE MOUTARDE, GOAT CHEESE AND FOIE GRAS BUTTER.
Ohhh yeahhh.
This was only my second visit to Hot Doug's, but it's the kind of place where you sit down, take one bite of your food and begin wondering whether it might be possible for you to undertake a thoroughly researched and highly scientific study of exactly everything on their menu. Could I do it? I think so, yes, if one of my loyal readers is willing to underwrite the cost of a lifetime supply of Pravachol.
Speaking of which, the foie gras levels in my system had grown perilously low since my departure from Paris (seriously, my hands were shaking, my breathing jagged, etc.), so I felt obligated to replenish my body's fatty duck liver stores by ordering the weekly special: Foie Gras and Sauternes Duck Sausage with Truffle Sauce Moutarde, Goat Cheese and Foie Gras "Butter".
Let me repeat that. Foie Gras and Sauternes Duck Sausage with Truffle Sauce Moutarde, Goat Cheese and Foie Gras "Butter".
I admit, I was skeptical. I thought it sounded overdone, too Baroque, too embellished, too American. Sort of like that last sentence. But in this case, Mae West was right: too much of a good thing can be wonderful. Doug is a master. The sausage was rich and robust with duck flavor; the moutarde was thick with flecks of black truffle, and the hearty chunks of goat cheese sprinkled atop the dog mirrored the texture of the foie gras without overpowering it.
Before living in Paris, such a meal might have posed problems for me. I would have eaten slowly and lacked confidence, worried about the impending gastronomic implications of eating so much fatty stuff. But now, after my Olympic food training, I knocked back that dog in about five minutes and snarfed down way more than my fair share of cheese fries, even though the cheese topping was of the inferior variety that I kvetched about in an earlier post.
I vaguely recall that Randy ordered a chorizo sausage topped with mole and chihuahua cheese. I'm sure it was great, but my tastebuds were too riveted on my meal to notice.
What did I order again? Oh yeah. FOIE GRAS AND SAUTERNES DUCK SAUSAGE WITH TRUFFLE SAUCE MOUTARDE, GOAT CHEESE AND FOIE GRAS BUTTER.
Ohhh yeahhh.