While plenty of establishments will offer plenty of Irish-aimed cheer, I can’t imagine celebrating St. Paddy’s Day anywhere other than Sean Cummings Pub. No green beer, and traditional Celtic music playing all day long. What could be more Irish than that. And since I have substantial Irish heritage, it would be a sin to celebrate any other way.

The pub recently moved, and the wake that rang in that occasion was a fantastic time. Co-worker Dave Morris caught some phenomenal video of the event. Check it out here. If tonight’s festivities are a fifth of that chilly January afternoon, it will be a truly memorable occasion.

I hate to miss it, but if you make it out please drop a comment to let me know how it was.

Great corned beef and cabbage with Irish potatoes starts with corning your own beef.

If you really want to improve your luck with future corned beef preparations, consider corning your own beef. I know it sounds a little profane, but it’s really just another way of saying brining, or even marinating.

Start with a simple pickling brine then cure the beef in it for a couple weeks, 10 days at the very least. Not difficult, but certainly takes some advance planning. You’ll also want to flip the meat daily, which means you’ll need to commit two weeks to the operation.

If you have a vaccuum sealer, you can brine the beef in about half the time. Or you can use the two weeks to develop an even deeper flavor.

When choosing the brisket, consider how you want to serve it. Some people like their corned beef in neat slices; other like it in delicate hunks that easily tear apart with a fork. Either way tastes great, but the point-cuts do take a little longer to cook. That said, they’re a little easier to convert into hash the next morning. Speaking of hash, next week I’ll share a recipe for that leftover classic.

Corned Beef

Ingredients

• 2 quarts water
• 1 cup kosher salt
• 1/2 cup brown sugar
• 2 tablespoons saltpeter or 1 cup of celery juice
• 2 cinnamon sticks, halved
• 2 teaspoons black peppercorns
• 1-1/2 teaspoons yellow mustard seeds
• 10 whole juniper berries
• 6 whole cloves
• 6 whole allspice berries
• 3 dried bay leaves, crumbled
• 2 pounds ice
• 1 dried red chile like cayenne or de arbol
• 1 3 to 5 pound trimmed beef brisket, flat-cut for sliced or point-cut for shredding

Directions

1. Heat water in a large stockpot.
2. Add salt, sugar, saltpeter, cinnamon sticks, mustard seeds, peppercorns, cloves, allspice, juniper berries, bay leaves and chiles.
3. Cook over high heat until salt and sugar have dissolved.
4. Remove from heat and add the ice.
5. Stir until the ice has melted.
6. Cool water to 45 degrees, place it in the freezer for a short time if need be.
7. Place brisket in a 2-gallon resealable bag and add brine.
8. Seal and lay flat inside a container, cover and place in the refrigerator for 14 days.
9. Check daily to make sure the beef is completely submerged and stir the brine.
10. After 14 days, remove brisket from the brine and rinse well under cool water

Guy Fieri logo on the wall inside Nic's Grill, 1201 N Pennsylvania, in Oklahoma City. Photo by Paul B. Southerland, The Oklahoman

Six local restaurants hit the jackpot by drawing a visit from Food Network’s “Diners, Drive-ins and Dives” last year.
Click on the restaurants below to watch host Guy Fieri visiting Ingrid’s Kitchen, The Diner is Norman, Nic’s Grill, Eischen’s Bar in Okarche, Mama E’s Wings and Waffles and Cattlemen’s Steakhouse.

But this wasn’t the first time Fieri has set foot on the Red Earth. He previously visited Leo’s, The Rock Cafe in Stroud, and Clanton’s in Vinita.

Been to any of these places? Tell me what you thought.

This painting of The Cellar Restaurant was made for a magazine article in the 1960s.

The Cellar Restaurant at Hightower closed five years before I moved to Oklahoma City, but thanks to the memories the historic restaurant left in the hearts of its devoted patrons, I’ve been blessed to view the city’s first fine dining establishment through their eyes.
Magical is the word that keeps popping up when I speak to those that remember the place, even those who spent enough time around it to get sick of it.
Dannie Bea Hightower, widow of restaurant owner Frank Johnson Hightower, told me that she could see things as they were in her mind as if it was yesterday.
“I remember when the Arts Festival was outside the Civic Center and we set up a Parisian-style sidewalk cafe along the perimeter. My father, who owned the Skirvin Hotel, even came over and helped us work.”
She told me the cooking classes and events they hosted were every bit as important to the community as the dining.
“Edith Gaylord never missed a class,” she told.
Johnson Hightower told me the thing he remembered most about his father’s relationship with food had more to do with dinner than dining out.
“I grew up thinking dinnertime was at eight o’clock or later. Dad closed up about 5:30, and he’d come after that and unwind with a cocktail for at least an hour.”
Then, Johnson said, he would prepare dinner pretty much every night. With help of a cook to do all of the prep work, Frank Hightower would make the sauced and the final preparations.
“By the time he was done, it was pretty late,” Johnson said as we spoke in his father’s old office, not far from a James A. Beard doll that looks like the progenitor to the Cabbage Patch Doll.
When chef John Bennett talks about The Cellar, he beams with pride. He still refers to his ex-boss as “Mr. Hightower” when he speaks of him. And anyone who knows John knows that to get him to say anything nice about an old boss is a Herculean feat. So the reverential tone he uses to discuss Frank Johnson Hightower is substantial proof that the man was truly one of a kind.
Has the city seen a more devoted patron of the arts than this man who served on the Mummers Theatre board, the Oklahoma City Symphony board while introducing the city to Baccarat in his retail store and Escargot in his restaurant?
If you’ve got a memory of The Cellar Restaurant or Frank Hightower you’d like to share, leave a comment below.

Each month when I share a new taco recipe, you can be sure I will have a vegetarian version. That’s life with a vegetarian wife, which I’ve found rewarding on many levels.
The vegetarian challenge to a card-carrying carnivore is to produce a level experience with the dish. When I conceive a dish, flavor is the first consideration but texture is right behind it.
Texture is integral to the carnivore experience, though it’s often taken for granted. Most carnivores mistake the craving for texture as a craving for something salty.
Salt plays a role but breaking down a protein with ones teeth to earn the lucious release of natural juices is what it’s all about.
That’s why fungi and nuts are my favorite ingredients to build a vegetarian dish around.

For this, the earthy flavor and toothsome texture of shiitake mushroom matched with the chewy, sweetness of cashews were the foundation. Mirin, soy and sambal bind them together with the usual array of onions, garlic and green pepper. A little ginger in that pool draws completes the attempt to nod to Asian cuisine while maintaining it’s tacosity, which as we all know is key.

Shiitake-Cashew Tacos

Ingredients

• 8 oz small shiitake mushrooms, sliced
• 1/4 cup cashews
• 1/4 white onion, sliced
• 1/4 green pepper, sliced
• 4 teaspoons sesame oil
• 2 cloves garlic
• 1 knob of ginger, about a 1/2-inch by 1/2-inch, peeled
• 2 teaspoons kosher salt
• 1 tablespoon sambal oelek (chile sauce)
• 2-3 teaspoons soy sauce
• 1 teaspoons mirin
• 10 corn tortillas
• 2 tablespoons peanut or vegetable oil
• Sriracha
• Hoisin Crema

Directions

1. Heat 2 teaspoons oil in a wok until oil begins to stir.
2. In a mortar and pestle, combine garlic, ginger and salt. Mash together into paste. You may also do this on a cutting board, using the back of a fork or a meat pounder with a flat face.
3. Add mushrooms and stir fry about 2 minutes, until they’ve changed color. Might need to do this in batches.
4. Remove mushrooms from heat and set aside. Wipe wok clean, heat remaining oil.
5. Add onions, green peppers and stir fry one minute.
6. Add ginger-garlic salt and toss another minute.
7. Return mushrooms to wok with sambal and toss.
8. Add soy sauce and toss for about 30 seconds.
9. Add cashews and green onions, toss togetherfor 30 seconds and add mirin.
10. When mix is well combined, remove from heat.
11. Wrap tortillas in a water-soaked papertowels and microwave on high heat for 1 minute.
12. Heat skillet and add enough peanut or vegetable oil to coat the bottom.
13. Put two heaping spoonfuls of mixture in a tortilla and toast in the skillet.
14. Repeat until you run out of filling, choose from these garnishes: carrot and daikon matchsticks, sliced jalapenos, watercress, diced avocado, radishes, hoisin crema and Sriracha sauce.

These chicken tacos are inspired by Asian cuisine.

I’ve been eating and talking Asian cuisine all month, thanks to the Lunar New Year. I’ve talked long and learned a ton from Max and Sindy Chow as well as Thai and Kathy Tien of Grand House. I’ve also been inspired by Fung’s Kitchen and Pho Lien Hoa to come up with these two tacos.
Ginger is added to the mix to give it that fresh, bright flavor so common in Asian foods. For the garnish, I went with the julienned daikon and carrots found in Vietnamese banh mi and some watercress. Tacos live and die with the sauces they’re paired with, so I’ve infused salsa verde with ginger, mixed Mexican crema with hoisin sauce, and when all else fails, go with Sriracha.

To give the tortillas a dumpling feel, I’ve steamed them then pan-fried them with a small amount of oil.

Check back tomorrow for a vegetarian taco with Asian inspiration.

Ginger Chicken Tacos

Ingredients

• boneless, skinless chicken breasts
• 1 teaspoon grated ginger
• 3 cloves garlic, minced and mashed
• 1 bunch of green onion, sliced. White parts only
• 3 tablespoons sesame oil
• 1 lemon
• 1/4 cup soy sauce
• 1 tablespoon of Mirin (rice vinegar would work, too)
• Salt and pepper to taste
• 12 corn tortillas
• 1/4 cup peanut or vegetable oil
• Daikon and carrott matchsticks
• sliced radishes
• sliced fresh jalapeno
• watercress leaves
• 1 cup salsa verde with ginger (recipe below)
• 1/2 cup Hoisin Crema (recipe below)

Directions

1. If the chicken is thawed, put it in the freezer one hour so that it’s partially frozen before slicing it thin and then chopping it into bite-sized pieces. Then set aside in a bowl, adding the juice of one lemon and some zest and a tablespoon of the soy sauce. Let stand at least 30 minutes. Make the crema and salsa while chilling and marinating chicken.
2. Heat a wok to medium high, then add sesame oil.
3. When the oil is rippling, add chicken and toss till both sides are browned. You might need to do this in batches.
4. Add ginger and garlic, tossing frequently.
5. Add remaining soy sauce and stir fry until it’s mostly cooked off.
6. Add mirin, salt and pepper. Toss one more minute then remove from heat.
7. Soak 4 to 6 papertowels with water, wring lightly then wrap them around the tortillas. Put in microwave on high for 1 minute.
8. Let cool, while you heat a skillet to medium high and add 3 tablespoons of peanut or vegetable oil.
9. Place two heaping spoonfuls of chicken in the steamed tortilla, and pan fry on both sides until toasted. Repeat until you’ve run out of filling.

Serve with daikon, carrots, sliced jalapenos, radishes, salsa verde with ginger and hoisin crema.

Salsa Verde with Ginger

• 5 ripe tomatillos, husked and rinsed
• 3 cloves garlic
• 1 knob of ginger, about a half inch by a half inch, peeled.
• 2 large jalapenos
• 1 tablespoon cilantro leaves.
• 1 bunch green onions, greens only
• 1 teaspoon salt

Directions

1. In a pot of boiling water, add all ingredients except salt and green onions.
2. Blanch for five minutes.
3. Move ingredients plus salt and half cup of liquid into food processor and blend until smooth.
4. Add onion tips and pulse 5 to 6 times, until consistency is how you want it.

Hoisin Crema

• 1/2 cup Mexican cream or creme fraiche
• 2 tablespoons hoisin

Mix thoroughly and serve.

Variation: If you can’t access Mexican crema or creme fraiche, substitute sour cream and 2 teaspoons of mirin.

Source: Dave Cathey

Last Valentine’s Day, Gene and Kim Leiterman’s Coco Flow on Western Ave. was duly emptied as it was every Feb. 15. Another success on their most important day of the year.

Fast forward a year and everything is changed.

Coco Flow is now in Bricktown where he says he feels “much safer.”

How is that? Not long after Valentine’s Day 2009, Coco Flow was robbed. Yes, robberies happen a lot. But this was an armed robbery in the building where Gene and Kim’s children were present, including an infant.

For a couple looking to live the Willy Wonka life, this is about as far from that goal as they could’ve been taken.
But here they are now in the Mieneke building, preparing for another onslaught of procrastinating men looking for, as Gene put it, anything Coco Flow is willing to sell.

“I could dip my shoe in chocolate and sell it on Sunday.”

To celebrate the new location, Coco Flow will be open Saturday and Sunday night with bistro tables and live music available in the common area adjacent to the store.

Welcome back, Gene and Kim, we missed you.

The fact that two of the city’s best Chinese restaurants are in old pancake houses might be a red flag in most culinary circles. Those who would judge our thriving collection of Asian eateries poorly based on the ingenuity and efficiency of two of its leaders are fate’s fools as they would never know the profound privilege of eating at Chow’s Chinese Restaurant or Grand House. While along with Fortune Chinese, 12314 N. Rockwell, these are my go-to spots for wok-induced wonder, after spending some time with Max Chow my view of what authentic Chinese cuisine will never be the same.

First, know Oklahoma City’s Asian community is a prosperous and growing a mix of Chinese, Vietnamese, Japanese, Korean and Thai peoples. Regardless the signifying culture depicted on the marquee of any local Asian restaurant, each of the aforementioned cultures play a role in the food that comes out of the kitchen. Purity is rare, but was there an eleventh commandment I didn’t hear about, proclaiming that cooks and chefs be jailed for caving in to influences outside their ancestry? If there was, then I don’t want to be a saint.

The Mid-Del area is home to a number of Korean restaurants. The Asian district north of Midtown is populated primarily by Vietnamese and banh mi and pho shops are strongly represented there and on the south side of Oklahoma City. Pho has even leaked into the suburbs, popping up from Norman to Bethany and in Edmond.

A handful of solid Japanese restaurants can be found, including Tokyo House, Sushi Neko, and Stillwater’s shabu shabu specialists at Tokyo Pot. Then there are fusion specialists like Saii Bistro and Sushi Bar that offer all things to all diners.

Photo by John Clanton, THE OKLAHOMAN: Chow's Chinese Restaurant opened in 1982 in an old A-frame International House of Pancakes building.

Chinese restaurants predate them all. However, the earliest worked hard to build an audience. To do that, traditions began in San Francisco and New York that placated Western tastes were represented on the menu. Not until the Vietnamese population took root did a handful of old-school Chinese restaurants decide to get out of the buffet business and consult their inner crispy duck. That said, Chow’s Chinese restaurant owner Max Chow admitted his restaurant, which switched from American-style Chinese cuisine to more authentic Chinese cuisine in the early 90s, doesn’t mirror exactly what would be found in his hometown of Hong Kong. Influences from the other Asian communities are clear on his menu and on those of his fellow Asian restaurateurs.

“The available ingredients are not the same,” he said. “There are things in Hong Kong that cannot be exported to the U.S.”

Max says his food is a communion between Chinese, Vietnamese and Thai traditions.

 His daughter Matty, who earned her Masters Degree in Hong Kong,  said during her time in China the dining experience is completely different than anything in the West.

“Everything there is government owned,” she said. “The sense of urgency to profit doesn’t exist.”

She said that lack of free-market-fueled ambition leads to long waiting times and leisurely service because their is no eagerness to turn over diners. That’s great if you’ve got a table, but not if you’re waiting for one. 

This kind of authenticity we can gladly do without.

After spending a number of hours with the Chow family and eating Max’s heartfelt offerings, I came away with the inclination that the authenticity Chow’s and others who strive for a truly Chinese experience like Dot Wo, Fung’s Kitchen and Grand House, has to do with tradition.

Max Chow is the most humble, generous and gracious chef I’ve come across. He has no discernible ego as a chef. Perhaps drawing from their communal upbringing, both Max and Sindy take enormous collective pride in what they do and its place within their community. Not many years ago, the Chows sold their restaurant. But when the couple heard grumblings that the quality of the food had suffered, they bought it back to right the ship. But there was at least one caveat.

“We used to be open for lunch,” Sindy explained. “And we were very busy all the time, so we hired a cook to help out in the kitchen.”

But Sindy said when Max wasn’t manning the wok, customers noticed a dip in the quality. With their nest emptied, Sindy said they opted to shut down lunch service because, “My husband only has two hands.” And she admitted they were both ready to spend at least a little time outside the kitchen.

When asked about his cooking style, Max is practically sheepish. He shrugs and talks about learning a simple style, an ancient style, which requires close attention to heat maintenance and fresh ingredients. When Sindy Chow talks about fresh ingredients, she’s serious. She doesn’t use the word fresh the way it’s used in marketing slogans or advertising jingles. If you order crab or lobster at Chow’s, it will be alive when you do. That’s why if you’re planning a visit to Chow’s and are thinking crab or lobster, you better call ahead.

Ba Luong, executive vice president of Super Cao Nguyen Market, told me he sees the Chow’s almost every day.

“They’re always in, checking out the produce, picking up live crab or lobster,” he laughed.

Max’s aim is simple: find the aroma of the ingredient and release it into the dish when it’s most capable of lending its flavor. He achieves that with high heat and a discerning eye. Spices are secondary.

“If the ingredients are not fresh, you will get very little flavor,” he said.

Sindy said, “We only buy the best ingredients because if we don’t, the food will not taste right.”

Authentic Chinese dining isn’t so much about specific dishes, it’s about connection. No matter how many times I asked Max to make a traditional chinese dish, he simply could not move forward without knowing my preferences. Spicy? Salty? Crispy? Beef? Chicken? Pork? Seafood? Dessert?

Chow’s is true family dining in the sense that a trip there, is as close as you’re going to get to inviting yourself over to somebody’s house and not only being welcomed in the door but asked what food will please you. It’s the best of a culture that doesn’t glorify the individual. Yes, the individual is consulted, but dinner is served by committee. Your flavor profile, fresh ingredients and a technique passed down over thousands of years to a gentle soul from Hong Kong who once dreamed of building audio equipment.

To proclaim one restaurant is better than another goes against what I’ve learned from Max, Sindy and Matty Chow. If you want a buffet, by all means find one and enjoy it. The good folks at August Moon, 2142 SW 74 St., do a great job as does Panda Garden in Norman, where I once witnessed Oklahoman sportswriter extraordinaire Berry Tramel eat 100 mushrooms before begining his lunch.

Chow’s, in fact, offers well-known American-style favorites like General Tso’s Chicken and Sweet and Sour Pork. Max said he would do his best to make a chicken-fry if that’s what a customer asked for. 

I’ve always felt music and food were similar art mediums, used subconsciously by people to mark time and solidify memories. After eating Max Chow’s food and listening to his family’s philosophy, I realized there’s an even stronger parallel: Just as there are songs, styles and musicians for every mood, so too is there food, chefs and restaurants.

While I might listen to The Clash more than I listen to The Kinks, they are both British rock bands who play song-driven rock with various cultural influences. Do I have to say I like one better than the other? No, I can love them both. Ray Davies has my left ear, Joe Strummer has the right. My brain is in between firing impulses down my spine that, when the mood is right, make the hair on my neck stand up. Because they can both have this effect, they are equal in the end. The happiness created in me connects us all.

Kind of equalizes us as human beings, which just feels a lot more like how this little thing called existence was intended.

Just as Ray Davies draws a song from soul when he asks, “Where have all the good times gone?” so too does Max Chow make me close my eyes, scrunch my toes and smile when I take a bite of his Ginger-Scallion Crispy Chicken. And just as Joe Strummer compels me to crank the volume when he asks, “How’d you get so rude and reckless? You been drinking brew for breakfast?” So too does my adrenalin race and energy jump when I take a bite of Shrimp-Stuffed Jalapeno or Salt and Pepper Shrimp from Grand House.

Authentic Chinese cuisine occurs when desire sparks imagination interpreted by technique. It’s impossible to say that exists in one place or in one dish better than any other because it’s subjective. And while it might begin with a simple understanding between one diner and one chef, the cuisine expands with each hungry person who pays a chef to cook. While that might sound a little chaotic, tradition and technique keep the whole thing in harmony. And why else would Max Chow have ever dreampt of building speakers if not to amplify harmony?

When I was approached by Nicole Thomas to become a judge in the first-ever Best in Show competition for Chocolate Decadence, it was hard to conceal my enthusiasm. 

When I joined Louisa McCune-Elmore and Carol Smaglinski at the Hudson-Essex building for the annual Automobile Alley fundraiser, my enthusiasm was brimming like Gene Leiterman’s chocolate fountain at the CoCo Flow booth. However, that enthusiam flagged somewhere between samplings 15 and 20.  I was, however, able to, umm, gut it out. No pain, no gain…took one for the team…insert your favorite cliche, you get the picture.

The Best of Show was not too difficult. While the tortellini with white chocolate sauce from the Skirvin, the chocolate tortelonni and white chocolate zuppa from Trattoria il Centro and the lamb chop with balsamic-chocolate reduction from Mickey Mantle’s were all sensational, CoCo Flow was king. With the aforementioned fountain as a dipping bowl for accompanying kabobs of fresh fruit and cakes, Gene also had as fine a bread pudding as I’ve ever tasted and a collection of bite-sized chocolates so that his booth examined the full potential of chocolate and its decadent nature.

Other contenders included the twin bites from Paseo Grill, the ultra-clever cotton candy from Nonna’s and accompanying carnival atmosphere and the bacon, chocolate and pistachio bites from Deep Fork. Thanks also to the Whiskey A-Cocoa from Sean and Cathy Cummings and to Iguana Mexican Grill for making chocolate sippable. Also shouts to Red Primesteak for the chile-ancho sauce and to La Luna for bringing mole to the table and making it work.

The best part of the evening was reconnecting with Nicole, who is a friend from a previous life. She’s planning events now, and based on the success of this one, I suspect she’ll be behind a lot more really cool events to come.

Thanks to Spain for the pastry, thanks to Tejas for the filling. These can be baked or deep-fried. Baked might be the better choice for the buffet table. This will fit in well with the requisite watch-party guacamole and salsa.

Ingredients

DOUGH:

• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1/2 cup vegetable shortening or freshly rendered lard
• 2 1/2 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 cup cold water

FILLING:

• 1 tablespoon vegetable oil
• 1 small diced white onion
• 1 clove garlic
• 5 dried guajillos chiles, rehydrated, stemmed and finely diced
• 1 large serrano chile, stemmed and diced
• 1 teaspoon chopped fresh cilantro
• ½ teaspoon cumin seeds, toasted and ground
• ½ teaspoon dried Mexican oregano
• 3 tablespoons water
• Kosher salt and fresh ground pepper
• 1¼ pounds ground chuck
• Juice of ½ lime

Directions

1. In a large bowl, combine flour, shortening, butter, and salt.
2. Mix lightly until the dough forms cherry-sized pieces.
3. Stir in the water.
4. Lightly and carefully knead until the dough forms a ball. Add a little more water if needed.
5. Refrigerate for at least 1 hour.
6. In a heavy skillet, heat the oil over medium heat. Add onion and garlic, and saute until soft but not browned, 3-4 minutes.
7. Add the tomatoes, guajillo and serrano chiles, cilantro, cumin, oregano and water.
8. Cook the mixture down until the consistency of marinara sauce.
9. Crumble the ground beef, mashing and stirring it to combine with the sauce. Increase the heat to high and cook, covered, until the meat has lost its pink color and the filling is moist but not liquid, about 12 minutes. The meat should be soft like meat loaf.
10. Remove from heat, stir in the lime juice, and set aside to cool.
11. Remove dough from refrigerator and let it return to room temperature, about 1 hour
12. Pinch off about half the dough. Roll out, on a floured surface, to a thickness of 1/8 inch.
13. Cut out 3-inch circles. Then, gather the scraps, add to the rest of the dough, and roll out another batch of circles. Repeat, with the rest of the scraps.
14. Place a spoonful of filling in the center of each circle of pastry.
15. Fold over the pastry and seal the edges, then crimp with a fork.
16. Let the empanadas rest in the refrigerator 30 minutes or freeze immediately.

To Bake: Preheat oven to 400. Frozen empanadas don’t need thawing. Glaze with egg wash (1 egg and 2 tablespoons milk, well beaten) and bake until golden brown, about 15 minutes.

To deep fry: Heat oil to 375 degrees and fry pastry until golden brown, 1 to 2 minutes a side.