Category: sandwich

Dunkin’ Donuts Pretzel Roast Beef and Dijon Sandwich

I hate it when my food tries to attack me. At least, that was my most naïve of misconceptions, when in the past my worries chiefly consisted of angry, snapping lobsters and the omnipresent fear of my steaks coming back to life after being seared for a full 3.5 seconds after death. Now I have to worry about plants. The dumbest of plants in fact – wheat. Now instead of inspecting my steak tartare, I’m cowering at the slightest mention of a goddamned sandwich.

I’m a firm believer in attacking things head-on—internet stalkers, daddy issues, and allergies alike. As a child, I endured test upon test to see if I had a cashew allergy after a breakout of hives while eating lo mein. After the tests, I ate a PB&J. I’m stone-cold tough, natch. So this gluten allergy, or intolerance, or irritability has been getting me down. This is the eighth beef product I’ve eaten this week. And of course, of course it would be that every single fast food establishment near me would start rolling out pretzel buns. Dunkin’ Donuts has started, but it is I who shall finish.
The new Roast Beef and Dijon sandwich is literally perfect. It succeeds on almost every front where Wendy’s new Pretzel Cheeseburger did not—a balance of savory and sweet flavors, plentiful meat, and an exceptional pretzel bun. I mean, look at that wrinkled, delicious bastard. It’s got a top as greasy as a Real Housewives of Jersey audition, and has an immediately sweet, fresh aroma. I had to run an errand before I got home, and as soon as I opened the car door to retrieve my sandwich, the Honda was filled with a bready, slightly salty scent. The sandwich has roast beef, Swiss cheese, and the Dijon spread popular in other sandwiches, most recently, the Cuban sandwich, which this seems to have replaced. The only peeve I could find was that the beef was overcooked and on the chewy side.  

Having had Nick’s of Beverly, I’m more partial to rare deli meat now. But the Dijon had a sweet flavor and surprisingly, neither the meat nor the cheese were too salty. The real star was the pretzel roll. I wouldn’t be surprised if these were from Pretzilla. The rock salt on top absolutely made it, giving each bite a little extra depth and tang, and the roll didn’t shy away from its roots, carrying that iron-heavy, honeyed quintessential flavor. I could eat one of these alone – if the first bite didn’t almost immediately give me a terrible stomachache and knock me out cold for an hour. Damn you, gluten. At least this will be a good treat for the Bedfellow. And for me, vicariously.

Sandwich Saturday

It’s kind of a slow week due to moving and preparing for it- all of my food is mainly packed away, and UPS and FedEx don’t deliver on weekends! I got a little carried away with packing, so I thought I’d give you a peek at some of the sandwiches I’ve been making for the Bedfellow and have eaten myself.

I’ve had to get a little crafty lately, as I wonder if I’m developing a slight intolerance to gluten. When I eat more than a slice or two or more than half a small roll, I end up getting very fatigued and feel depressed until my body digests it. It’s something to look into, so I’ve been trying to be careful lately and stick with more proteins and grains. But this sandwich was certainly the masterpiece, especially as of late- lavender cheese from Rogue Creamery atop sauteed chicken with honey, lime pods, and smoked sea salt.

I also bought a bit of ground beef- not my usual fare, but since I was craving a burger atop little Martin’s-esque rolls, went for it along with some American cheese.

This one was made using the slider method from Serious Eats, steamed atop sweating, grilled onions with pickles on the bottom and American cheese on top. Ridiculously messy but ultimately really tasty. More laborious than grilled burgers and not necessarily tastier in comparison, but still fun to try. The one above was done on a hot pan, and my apartment smelled like burgers for hours. Worth it!

Sometimes when I run low on groceries, I have to get creative. Luckily, I have a lady who is a whiz at making guacamole, and with a little roasted red pepper goat cheese and salsa, this was a no brainer. The best part was how grilled the guac got when it spilled out of the sandwich.

This last selection wasn’t really a sandwich at all, but was a dip that we ate with chips and little pieces of bread- so, a deconstructed sandwich. Barbecue chicken dip, but instead of using cream cheese and dressing like many recipes call for, I switched it up and used labne, a yogurt from Karoun Farms.

Dunkin’ Donuts Cuban Sandwich

Fortuitous circumstances have put me in possession of a vintage Eames chair, so now I can sit alone in the dark and watch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind in style. My part-time employment as an anime wrangler was fleeting, and I’ve taken up tutoring to supplement my lavish lifestyle. Of course, this leaves me with free days, so I’ve been thrill-seeking and friend-searching on the side to see what adventures I can get myself into.

Well, friend-seeking hasn’t been going so well. I never realized how difficult it was to be friendzoned when you actually wanted it. It’s hard to be in limbo – I’m moving from one city to another, so there aren’t many preemptive measures I can take. And humans, by nature, are frustrating, especially in this area. Apparently, there isn’t a preferred gender pronoun for people who don’t know how email works. Although I did have one extremely successful friend date, successful in part due to equal parts of good conversation and vanilla milkshake! So, thrill-seeking is the next measure. I considered taking a vacation to Florida until I remembered that I was a student. Thankfully, Dunkin’ Donuts has brought all the crushing disappointment of a real vacation to their restaurants up here, with the glamorous Miami and politically-correct Amherst-exclusive Cuban Sandwich.

The new-ban Cuban features roast pork, ham, Swiss cheese, and a Dijon pickle spread on a French roll. A tall order, especially on the pork front. This isn’t the first time Dunkin’ has tried their hand at a Cuban, following the dismal failure of the Cuban flatbread, with all the fun of a Cuban sandwich without any of the components that designate it as such. This time, they appear to be going pretty straightedge. The sandwich is tall, though in part, that is due tothe French roll, perennially fluffy.
Surprisingly, all of the ingredients looked pretty legit. There was a fairly large slice of tender pork, which, despite having doubtfully been really roasted, had a bold, savory flavor unto its own. The ham and swiss looked plentiful and appetizing, despite glistening with sweat. I mean, come on, Swiss, what is this, junior prom? And the pickle and Dijon spread tasted just like Big Mac sauce. Which is honestly pretty great. The sandwich is bland, though, due to uneven distribution of the sauce, whose acidic, brighter flavors really mitigate the basic saltiness of the meat. Only the middle bite, the exact epicenter of the sandwich, carried any acidity or semblance to pickle slices in a real Cuban.
And to be honest, that bite, had it not been lukewarm, was great. The flavors are more distinct with that little hint of brightness. Without it, it ends up tasting like a generic mixed meat sandwich. Just like Florida. And I didn’t even have to get sunburnt or sit next to a crying baby on an airplane.

Wendy’s Pretzel Bacon Cheeseburger

I am literally going to die.

I’m done. I’m dying, my insides are decomposing, and I’m going to die. And I feel so clean.

I’m on a juice fast. It’s the worst. I mean, I feel great, slightly delirious, and I fall asleep at stop lights, but I can already feel my stomach aching for a burger. Obviously, with my couture food tasting lifestyle, it’s difficult to maintain such a diet while still sticking my mouth in the latest and greatest delicacies from Chez Mac Do and Wendy’s. I enlisted the Bedfellow to help me eat this burger while I watched her, on the floor, from across the room, while I cried silently into my sweet green and lemon water.

The new Pretzel Bacon Cheeseburger features some new ingredients and some old ones- bacon, cheese, onions, lettuce, tomato, and smoky mustard sauce (from the flatbreads, I imagine) along with Cheddar cheese sauce atop a pretzel bun. Pretty intense, and at $4.89, pricier than the standard bacon burgers but hopefully worth the price. It’s a fairly weighty sandwich, and very visually appealing, with lots of sauce, veggies, and a shiny, toasted bun.

The Bedfellow liked it, though found the pretzel, which I’d consider to be the main draw of the sandwich, bland and not very tasty. It wasn’t sweet like some pretzel rolls, and had no salt on top. I would have found the inclusion of rock salt fairly audacious given the assault of savory ingredients already inside the burger, but was pleased to hear that she thought the rest of the salt balanced out the boring flavor of the bun. Though if you’re going to make a pretzel bun, why bother making it at all if it isn’t going to taste very good?

Luckily, it didn’t overwhelm the rest of the burger, which was satisfying in its composition. Although she found the cheese and mustard sauce difficult to tell apart, she liked the sweet and smoky flavors, which leads me to wonder if Wendy’s has adjusted their mustard sauce recipe after testing it in March. The arugula blend was a nice touch, too, and gave a splash of color alongside the relatively anemic-looking tomato and yellow and brown color palate of the meat and cheese. Red onions balanced out the richer flavors. The cheese provided another good boost of salt and softness atop the burger, but was overwhelmed by the thicker, gooier cheese sauce. Unfortunately, with the success of the toppings, the burger itself was dry.

When 50% of the components- pretzel and burger, are outshone by traditionally secondary items within the composition of a sandwich, cheese and bacon, it seems that it would not prove to be successful. However, it was saved by the quality and abundance of the remaining toppings. The Bedfellow said she would certainly get it again given the chance. I’d be curious to know who is supplying the pretzel buns for Wendy’s, or whether they are recipes from another company, tweaked to taste as they do. If this is a permanent addition to the menu, I would hope they add a little more of that eggy, saline flavor so quintessential to pretzels themselves. 

Yancey’s Fancy Tandoori Gouda Cheesesteaks

A few weeks ago, I retrieved a shipment of cheese from Yancey’s Fancy (retrieved as UPS and their terrible shipping policies held my cheese random) and received a selection of delicious flavors, one of which was this amazing-looking tandoori gouda.

I knew I wanted to cook something special with it, but I wasn’t sure what would do the flavor justice. Making normal Indian food didn’t seem to fit the bill, and fusing too many flavors together would overwhelm the delicate gouda’s flavor.

A beautifully serendipitous sale on brisket gave me a great idea, though- why not make tandoori brisket cheesesteaks? The cheese is the biggest player, and I’d realized I was overdue for a good sandwich. Realizing I lack the capacity to eat an entire loaf of bread is sobering, but the bliss found at being able to make an enormous sub with baguette and eat it for dinner outside, with Red, was incomparable.

I made the brisket in the slow cooker. I want to eventually do one in the oven, but the oven in this apartment is erratic and tends to dry meat out unless I check it religiously. As I started the brisket at 4AM, I figured I ought to prioritize sleep over meat-checking, so I just popped it in the cooker and took it out at 5PM the next day. The brisket had a dry rub and a wet rub, the former a mixture of tandoori spices, curry powder, salt, pepper, garlic, and chili powder, and the latter, whole-grain honey mustard, honey, and brown sugar. This was all accompanied by a few shakes of hot sauce to balance out the sweeter flavors.

When it was done, I shredded it. It was my original objective to slice it, but it was just too tender! I popped the pan in the oven to get a bit of a crispy crust on it before assembling the sandwiches. After sauteeing some peppers and onions with a little olive oil, I was ready. Tandoori mayo, meat, veggies, and cheese went atop the bread, and the whole thing went into the oven for about 20 minutes at 350 to melt the cheese. Once finished, I drizzled the sandwiches with some of the sauce leftover from cooking and we ate them.

And of course, nothing is better than a tandoori cheesesteak, except a tandoori cheesesteak omelet in the morning. It was a really fun way to get creative with my sandwiches! I have a few more cheeses from Yancey’s to try — strawberry chardonnay and maple bacon are two that I’m itching to cook with. What should I make?

Quick Suprême Foie Gras Burger

It’s been a strange, beautiful six months.

I don’t know where to start, really. So much has happened and has seemed so normal to me that when I step back and look at it from an outsider’s perspective, it just looks absurd. I leave Paris in less than 48 hours, and I’d be lying to you if I said I wasn’t a little strained, a little stressed. I’ve lost a bit of my nerve since I’ve been here, so to speak. My desires have changed and I’m struggling with one foot in the Metro door trying to determine what will transfer when I cross the ocean. I guess that’s why my posting has been erratic. The clock is ticking and I’m sitting on my suitcases realizing that there’s a world out there that I didn’t even know I wanted until I flew out and saw it for myself.

I get that this is a thing, that this is hardly an original impulse. Students do it, they are enriched, they come back with stupid assumed accents and a newfound sense of entitlement smugly wagged in the faces of their uncultured peers, they immortalize it in Instagrammed photos and Skype and eventually, there comes a day when they move on to bigger and better things and eventually allow the smoke of Paris to fade from their minds, forget the sound of crowds in London as the days pass and pass.

This terrifies me.

So here I am, on my second-to-last night, and I’m trying to grasp something, shock my body and brain into feeling and reacting by staying outside a little longer. I needed a project, so I schlepped to six Quick restaurants looking for this damned foie gras burger. I don’t know, it was my last hurrah, my last attempt at branding these streets and Metro exits on my mind. Four of the restaurants didn’t have it, having stopped carrying it after a week out of disinterest, one of the restaurants had moved and was still on the Quick website, and the last one didn’t have it when I went that afternoon and had it that night. I was discouraged but I couldn’t stop moving and as asinine as the goal felt, it was just good to have one.

This burger, for lack of a more sophisticated comparison, encompasses how it’s been here. It’s got a smear of highbrow eclecticism in between its decidedly spartan base. It’s strange, it’s elusive, and it’s downright inconceivable to people who don’t know what it’s like. I can’t say that it’s perfect, but it’s damned satisfying. It comes wrapped in greasy, stained wax paper and carries a funk of decadent sleaziness. After all, it’s French, albeit the D-grade of French, foie gras on a cheap hamburger.

I guess the prospect of the new, the strange, the ephemeral, the transitional, still intrigues me. If this burger can satisfy that for me, $5 isn’t the worst I can lose. In any case, this met my expectations and exceeded them, in a bizarre sense. I didn’t expect it to grow on me as it had, but here we are. It’s well-balanced in flavor, the extra elements- grilled, caramelized onions, an onion, poppyseed and paprika bun, and the obvious hunk o’ chunka burnin’ lobe push past the basic lettuce and burger and add a flair of exoticism to the entire package. Nothing pushes to the center, it’s graceful and natural. It’s a lot to take in, but it’s easy to get accustomed to, kind of like Paris itself.  A befitting end to a beginning, or a beginning to an end, or maybe it’s just the middle of something I’m still working my jaw through.

I will miss small, silly things like bizarre burgers.

I will miss large, grand things, like the Seine, the Metro, the tight wind of one hundred and twenty-six old stairs to a Parisian garret and a world of possibilities out a cracked window.

At the end of it all, though, I’m really, truly happy.

And I will be back.

I have had an exceptional stay here. I’ll see you all on the other side.

Guest Review: Burger King Pumpkin Burger

Foodette: An exclusive review, coming to you all the way from Japan! My study abroad friend has a sister in Nagoya, and we were lucky enough to persuade her to try the new BK Pumpkin Burger, topped with a ring of fried slices of pumpkin. Get her take here!

“The BK pumpkin burger looked very grandiose on the giant poster in front of BK, maybe even appealing, but still sounded weird, so I was skeptical going in. But after a long 30 minute walk around Nagoya in search of BK and not having eaten much for lunch, I was ready to sit down and try it. After letting Nobu, my boyfriend, order for me, he brought back the white paper wrapped burger marked “HP” for “Heavy Pumpkin”, an option Nobu chose to add extra pumpkin on top as a 100 yen (about $1.20) or so upgrade, and it was indeed heavy on the pumpkin. It was ten layers of thinly sliced kabocha pumpkin with the green skin on the outside, fried and hot. 

I knew it was too much pumpkin so I began to pull some out so I could appreciate the teeny tiny burger meat below. This was a difficult task as the pumpkin slices were covered in chopped iceberg lettuce, falling in all directions, and the pumpkin was assembled in a doughnut pattern with a hole in the middle where they squirted the bland, not so flavorful mayonnaise dressing with what I assumed were little black pepper specs mixed in with the slippy, oozing, messy white sauce. So after reassembling my bun, a typical yellowish sesame seed covered BK bun, I bit into it. I made sure to get the burger, the fatty strip of thin somewhat crispy, somewhat soft bacon, the pumpkin, the mayo, and the lettuce all in one bite. The burger tasted like a normal BK flavor, kind of dry, the lettuce was average chopped iceberg, the mayo was relatively flavorless, and the pumpkin was on the sweet side, as expected. Nobu had a bite as well and agreed that it wasn’t so yummy.

Even the salty little bacon strip couldn’t redeem the lack of flavor. However, we redeemed ourselves it with our Heinz ketchup packets (Pittsburgh represent!) and dipped it into the ketchup, a nice contrast to the sweet pumpkin. It gave it a tang, and made it taste much like sweet potato fries dipped in ketchup on a burger (reminiscent of Primanti Bros but with sweet fries and no slaw). Much better that way. Then we ate the remaining pumpkin slices on the side, still hot and soft, and dipped those in the leftover ketchup like french fries and they were much better that way as well. In the end, we decided it was bland and not very good, and that a more kicky sauce would’ve gone a long way in improving the burger. Our expectations were low going in, and they were met coming out.”

OH MY GOD PUMPKIN FRIES. This is amazing, and I wish I had been there. Until next time, Japan!

McDonald’s Le Charolais

Happy National Cheeseburger Day! Apparently, it’s also Happy Get Groped near a McDonald’s by a Guy Resembling Rob Pilatus Day, which if I’d known about in advance, would have surrounded myself with bikini models and Sinclair Sexsmith, but you live and you learn, I suppose. And get touched by strangers, but that’s all in the past now. But everyone knows that the objectification of women goes best with a side of fries, so here’s Le Charolais, McDo’s answer to the McDouble back home.

Surprisingly enough, McDo also has the McDouble and McChicken in addition to this little gem, but this is for when you’re feeling classy and want a burger to go with your McMacarons and McEspresso, both of which exist and are embarrassingly delicious. I initially thought that “Charolais” was one of those corporate neologisms designed to be a hybrid of “charred” and something Franco-sounding and chic, but to my surprise, my two-dollar burger has origin, baby, and champion origins at that, sourced from Ireland and the south of France. The Charolais cattle are a noble, prize-winning purebred line who would likely be ashamed to discover that they’ve been made into something eaten by me.

In addition to a pedigree, the Charolais has PGI-protected French Emmental cheese, lettuce, and a Dijon-pepper sauce on a fresh miniature ciabatta. This has more “local” food keywords than most Brooklyn restaurants, and it’s got the flavor to prove it. Almost every component is flavorful, with a distinct, defined sharpness unusual to fast food. Normally, food like this is enjoyed for its monolithic, consistent properties. After all, a Big Mac is the same in every language, but this is another story entirely.
For its low price point, this is excellent. Any pricier, though, and I’d have been a little peeved. The quality didn’t match up with the ingredients. The cheese stood out the most, with a very nutty, slightly sweet note. The mustard and pepper sauce was tangy and strong and despite its modest quantity, went a long way in enhancing the burger. Unfortunately, the beef was so overshadowed by its accompanying components that they swallowed it completely. Letting it stand for itself was a noble goal, but regrettably a failure in execution. It was drastically underseasoned and dry. And the components were delicious, but didn’t quite come together with the same level of syzygy of the McDouble. I’d try this again, and use it as a tool to blow people’s minds, but for a consistent sandwich, would stick to my old favorite. Sometimes the classics win out!

Alobar, Long Island City, NY

I rarely have many reasons to be in Queens. That is, until now. But if I’m ever in the mood for delicious, clever punk rock food, I’m pleased that a short travel six minutes on the 7 train out of Manhattan and walk a few blocks up is all that it takes. Alobar, a pork ‘n’ pub restaurant taking Long Island City by storm, invited Dillinger and me to check out their food and impressive cocktails, too.

 Miss Love took a look at this menu and proclaimed it was “guy food,” so I immediately decided that I would take Dillinger on a guy date. While the menu’s battered bacon add-ons and barbecued pig tails may look intimidating, there are quite a few delicate starter selections for the feminine palate, should your lady (or fastidious gentleman!) not have an immediate desire to gnaw on maple-cured ribs. That being said, I would have liked to see the freshness of their appetizers trickle into the entrees. I think that with their ingenuity, they can transform dishes for a lighter palate without sacrificing their views and values.
However, on the appetizer front, I don’t think anyone would pass up Alobar’s selection of housemade pickles. We sampled the thick tarragon carrot pickles, briny and robust with mustard seed and a little coriander for a sour, sweet Asian flair. And for your $4, you get a ton of carrots.

Also on the menu as a light, but tasty treat, is a clever twist on a bar favorite. A giant bowl of truffled maple-bacon popcorn, served hot and drizzled with sauce, was the unanimous appetizer favorite. The bacon, served in more hunks than pieces, covered the bottom of the bowl and most of the top of the popcorn as well. Glistening with truffle oil and maple, it was a crispy and sweet treat, although very gooey and impossible not to eat with a fork. Believe me, if you felt awkward eating pizza with a fork and knife before, try doing the same with popcorn.

But the main reason why we were here was for these prehistoric looking puppies. Pig tails! And no, they’re not curly or pink. I can best describe pig tails as a hybrid of the best bar wings you’ve ever had and fatty pork belly. Combining the silky, unctuous fat of the belly with the flavor of roasted dark chicken-like meat, all slathered in a sweet apple barbecue sauce, it’s a delicious snack with a gamey tang and a tempura flavor from frying. They’re fairly large, too, and have a “jointed” structure to better retrieve meat from, but the pieces are proportionately similar to wings, as well. A little effort goes a long way!

As for drinks, we started out with two very seasonally-inspired cocktails, the smoked peach with mezcal, tequila, peach nectar, jalapenos, and honey, and the cactus cooler, with passionfruit, vodka, cactus fruit, and lime juice. Both were refreshing and tinted with a sweetness that blended well with each respective liquor. I would have liked for the peach to have a little more heat and even an extra splash of color from fresh jalapeno! The cactus cooler didn’t particularly taste like cactus, but it had a great, fruity flavor.

Our entrees couldn’t have been more different, but we agreed on one thing: they were crazy good. As soon as I saw Kentucky-fried rabbit on the menu, it was all that I could think about. And with red-eye gravy, hash browns, and bacon-braised cabbage? Sign me up, no questions asked. The rabbit was crispy and crunchy, with a thick, flaky crust and a tender texture. It was similar in texture and color to a chicken breast, with a stronger, sweeter natural flavor and juicier center. I absolutely loved it. With the colorful purple cabbage, studded with some soft chunks of bacon like the popcorn from before, it was the perfect savory and sour combination. The hash browns and gravy were unfortunately less impressive, the former simple and underseasoned, and the latter drizzled on as an afterthought, a bummer as I was looking forward to the interplay of coffee and bacon with Southern specialties.

Dillinger went for the most massive burger I’ve ever seen, made even more gargantuan with two thick slices of battered, deep-fried bacon. Now, understand this: Dillinger is my go-to adventure friend for multiple reasons, one of which being that he is very, very tall and big. Seeing him put down the burger halfway through and push his plate away was like seeing a UFO. It just doesn’t happen! My point is, this burger kicked our collective asses. Covered in the aforementioned bacon, smoked onions, butter lettuce, and served with fresh fries, it was absolutely delicious and so savory. The salted frites on the side were the perfect crispy accompaniment to such a bold sandwich.

With our entrees, we shared two more cocktails. Dillinger’s was a basil and blackberry cocktail with vermouth and lime juice.While the freshness of the ingredients was abundantly apparent, the seeds from the muddled berries made this impossible to drink from the provided straw. The flavor was perfectly balanced and pleasantly sweet. My cocktail was another stunner- a special house bacon-infused bourbon whip with orange and egg whites. Really deep and delicious, with a heavy clove and cinnamon flavor like liquified Christmas and a sweet, frothy top. I was surprised that the bacon flavor was so light and airy on the palate. It was definitely a unique drink.

And yes, we had to do dessert. A fluffernutter inspired treat was a no-brainer, with homemade fudge sauce, peanut butter sauce, marshmallow fluff, and thick griddled pieces of white bread. Everything came together exactly as it should have. While the buttery bread may have been a little rich with the sweetness of the three sauces, each piece was just soaked with flavor and the hint of salinity balanced out the dish impeccably.
We also shared a few after-dinner drinks, a hot apple brandy drink, super strong and hot with intense black tea and honey flavors, and a glass of Churchill’s port. Both perfectly complimented our desserts, including this stunner, the salted caramel bread pudding. The dark spots you see on top (as the Queens sun was quickly fading) are part chocolate chunks, softened by the hot pudding, and a crisp, crunchy brulee of sugar. The caramel notes were subtle, but enhanced by the other ingredients as well as the pool of sauce at the bottom. A dessert unfettered by whipped cream or gelato, this was simple, well-prepared, and delightful to eat. Not unlike its creator, Alobar itself. I think the rough-hewn atmosphere of the restaurant is fun and clever, and that they have a lot of potential in the space they’re in and with their dishes.Thanks again to the Alobar staff and team, especially our kind, prompt server, and to Alobar’s PR team for facilitating our write-up. It was truly a wonderful evening.

Three Pepper Smoked Turkey Sliders en Papillote

We don’t have a TV. Trust me, it’s better off that way. It’s a dangerous habit to ease into the swelling waters of bayou billionaires and extravagant birthday parties. There are a few shows I love the concepts of, though, like Chopped. It’s fun to think of what a random combination of ingredients could be incorporated into a dish and how the flavors could come out in any number of ways. I did my own miniature version of Chopped the other night, using some fun ingredients I’ve received over the last few weeks. Without further ado, here are my Three Pepper Smoked Turkey Sliders en Papillote.

I came up with this idea in part in homage to a classic Connecticut treat, steamed burgers, and also as a result of having some spectacular spicy ingredients around the house. I received some spice-infused salts in the mail from The Spice Lab a few weeks ago, and picked up some fantastic Cypress Grove peppered goat cheese and parchment bags from PaperChef at the Fancy Food Show that I’d been dying to use. These sliders are small, but they’re packed with flavor and are moist and tender from steaming in the oven.

Three Pepper Smoked Turkey Sliders en Papillote
Ingredients (makes 8 sliders)
8 slider rolls
1/2 lb ground turkey
1/2 onion, thinly sliced
1 jalapeno, minced
1 pimento pepper, minced
1 habanero pepper, minced
1/2 teaspoon of smoked sea salt (smoked jalapeno salt found here)
1/2 teaspoon of olive oil
1/2 round of goat cheese, approximately two ounces

1. Chop and prepare your ingredients. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Mix the salt, sliced onion, and half of the peppers together. Toss with oil.

2.  Mix the remaining peppers into the ground turkey and shape into eight small sliders, roughly 1/8th of a pound apiece.

3. Layer the onions and peppers on the bottom of the parchment bag in a single layer, evenly distributing the ingredients. Place the patties on top with a blob of goat cheese and seal the bag tightly, crimping the edges over twice to ensure that it doesn’t open while cooking.

4. Bake for 15-20 minutes. Let the burgers cool for five minutes, and open the bag from the top. Spoon burgers and onions onto buns and devour!

We served these with a cantaloupe basil agua fresca, a drink we’ve enjoyed before. It was a really refreshing treat and definitely quenched the heat these baby burgers brought! Even if the ghetto three-hour fresca drip and Death Star melon husk (pictured below) didn’t quite work out.

I’m excited to experiment with parchment bags more. Have you tried out any other interesting recipes with these? I want to go past the ubiquitous steamed salmon and asparagus. What else do you think would be fun to steam in the oven?