That's Amore!

I always associate this Italian sandwich masterpiece with Baltimore. I first had one of these at an Orioles game. I also had something similar at a Cub's game at Wrigley Field. As I was walking to my seat with my food, a drunk woman in her 50's made a pass at me by saying: "you've got a huge sausage!"

These are really easy to make and you'd be hard pressed to find anything more delicious in the hot dog food group. What you need is:

6 mild Italian sausages
6 fresh hoagie rolls
3 peppers (red and yellow work best)
2 yellow onions

Chop up the onions and peppers and sautee them in olive oil.

They need to cook down a lot, plan on 20-30 minutes until the onions are translucent and a little brown.

Throw the sausages on the grill.

Serve the sausage on the fresh roll with the onions and peppers on top.

Very Annoying

I've gotten to the point where I usually don't eat at restaurants if I haven't seen good reviews, don't see movies without good reviews and don't try recipes without seeing reviews.

Most of the restaurant and recipe reviews are done by laymen and the aggregate opinion is what I usually go on.

Here's what I've found: good places have an overwhelming majority of good reviews. Inevitably with restaurants with tons of great reviews, there's some snob who posts something like: "I'm from ____ and this is NOT authentic ____!"

Especially in Utah, there are a whole class of people who live here that think they are too good for the state. Even if something is good, they are from _____, so they are the expert and what passes for ____ food in Utah is total crap.

Even more annoying are people with recipe reviews. There is always someone who gives the recipe 3/5 stars and says: "Haven't tried it yet, but it looks good."

There are also people who give it 2 or 3 stars and say: "Didn't follow the recipe and baked instead of fried and it did not have any flavor and I couldn't eat it."

Why the he## would you review something you hadn't tried or why would you blame the recipe if you had not followed it?

Turn Your Kitchen Into an Industrial Grade Smoker

This weekend I had a hankering for some pulled pork sandwiches. I made this recipe, which is a winner for so many reasons.

The pork shoulder is a cheap cut of meat, under $2.00 a pound. It pulls apart so easily and the liquid smoke makes it taste like the real deal.

There are a few requirements for this recipe.

First, only use white bread or potato rolls. That is a must.

Second, is the sauce that you put on top. This is where the battle is won or lost.

Last year we went to Charleston, SC and stopped at this unbelievable barbeque joint. We bought a bottle of the mustard-based sauce and had it with the sandwiches. It was amazing, and it added just the right amount of sweet, tang and kick to the succulent pork.

What are your favorite barbeque sauces and barbeque places from around the country dear readers?

When at Home, as in Rome

If any of you have been to Italy, you will know that there is one thing that makes travelers put up with transportation strikes, pickpockets and gypsies who wash your car and demand payment: GELATO.

Gelato is available in the U.S., but if you've had the same experience I have, you usually pay $8.00 for a portion the size of a Costco sample.

If you own an ice cream maker, try this recipe, it's amazing. Chocolate hazelnut gelato, but it is imperative that you add the roasted hazelnuts on top.

Stay tuned for upcoming tiramisu and pistachio gelato recipes.

Always Trust a Broken Down Car

Last night, after a rough day in the salt mines, the whole family went to Lone Star Taqueria in Salt Lake City (near Fort Union).

This place was featured on Diner's Drive-ins and Dives and I think it lives up to the hype.

I had the carne asada burrito and Mrs. Fabulous had the fish tacos (what they're known for). Both were off the charts.

The ski bum/yuppie crowd definitely dominates the joint, but they were cordial and no one tried to pick a fight when Felix Jr. put out the vibe in his highchair.

You know--lots of puffy jackets and cars in the parking lot with Save Our Canyons stickers and people who think of their lab and or malamute as their child.

One of my favorite Mexican places, and they have many bottled Mexican sodas, another bonus.

In Cherche of Jambon

France has a very bad name in America. Granted there are many problems with the country, not the least of which is that every man must wear a striped sweater and beret and must always be rude to American tourists.

For those who have been to France, you will know that it is impossible to find a bad ham sandwich there. You can buy one from a vending machine at the train station and it will be delicious.

Unfortunately, it seems just as difficult to find a good ham sandwich here in the land of the free. Most ham tastes like maple-flavored rubber. I don't know when ham and honey glaze were married, but the two have been inseparable ever since.

I like very salty ham. The kind that tastes like real pork and not like maple/honey glaze.

Today I have been craving the croque monsieur. What in the heck is a croque monsieur--you ask (typical American idiot). It is a grilled ham and cheese sandwich. However, you must have all of the finest ingredients, especially the right ham.

So, I will make it my quest to find delicious ham, come hell or high water. I will keep you, dear readers, apprised of any finds.

Sneaky Sneaky

To me part of the joy of going to a movie is sneaking in outside food. I don't know why, but I get a strange thrill from sticking it to the man by not buying over-priced concessions.

We reached a new height last week when Mrs. Fabulous and I attended The Fantastic Mr. Fox (highly recommended by the way) and Mrs. Fabulous was able to smuggle in a full Chinese take out meal, complete with egg rolls, fried rice, orange chicken and kung pao chicken -- I've never been more in love with her.

Contraband food always tastes better in the theater and I like to think there is total outrage when my outside food is discovered in the trash after the show. Sadly, I suspect the kids in the the oversized maroon polo shirts or neon bowties who work at the theater don't really care . . . at least not as much as I would hope they do.