Frugal Floozie Friday - The Bread Basket Deli

Craig and I both grew up eating exceptional deli food - he in Southfield (a Detroit suburb with a large Jewish community, for those who don't know the area; it even has a kosher Dunkin' Donuts!) and me in New York City. We're kinda snobs about it.

Fortunately, Ann Arbor has a number of great delis, including today's Frugal Floozie Friday feature - The Bread Basket Deli.

There are so many sandwiches to choose from that easily come in under our $5 per person budget (and many of them are deli classics: pastrami, tongue, chopped liver). And yes, we're sharing today - the portions are so generous that a half sandwich is very filling and more than sufficient. Eat the entire thing, if you want to; but you'll certainly be satisfied with a more reasonable serving.

Craig and I split a regular corned beef on rye with a schmear of mustard, which cost $8.99. (A small sandwich is only $6.99.) Thinly sliced meat which was exceptionally tender, a good chewy bread with a crisp crust ... sigh. We both felt right at home, and happy.

We also split a small order of onion rings, which were nice and crunchy. A small order costs only $2.75, and could make a great snack or side dish.

Craig and I decided to enjoy some dessert, as well - a thick, dense slice of cheesecake for a mere $3.79. This is so rich that it could have been a single-serve lunch! It was definitely an ideal portion to share with a loved one. Dry, almost crumbly - as a proper New York cheesecake should be - and not too sweet, this was a fabulous indulgence.

All of the Bread Basket Deli's desserts - which are enormous - cost less than $5 each. Vegetarians can order vegetable or egg salad sandwiches. You can even find a knish, one of my favorite foods, for $4.25. The deli has something for everyone!

So, for good food and a great value, head over to The Bread Basket Deli.

The Bread Basket Deli
4003 Carpenter Rd.
Ypsilanti, Michigan 48197
734-677-7717



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Reuben Mina and a Cute Story

Jeremy loves Passover, but not for any spiritual reasons.

First of all, there are sodas made with pure sugar, since corn - and thus corn syrup - is forbidden during the holiday.  (I almost never buy soda, but it's an annual holiday tradition.)  Secondly, my friend Michele makes the most amazing coconut chocolate chip macaroons; she generously gives me a supply each year.

And Passover is also when I serve my Reuben Mina [MEE-nuh], a lasagna-ish dish made with matzah instead of noodles.  This isn't kosher, since it mixes meat and dairy products, but it's incredibly good!  Let me tell you a little story to show just how good.

As faithful readers know, Jeremy is a connoisseur of Reubens.  He will order one if he sees it on a menu, and can rate and rank every one he's eaten in terms of flavor, portion size, tenderness of meat, generosity of ingredients, etc.  Just ask, and he'll tell you which ones are his favorites; he'll also tell you which one was the very worst ever (which would surprise many people, but he could rant for days about how it was overpriced and overrated, virtually inedible).

So one day, years ago, when I found rye matzah sitting among the Passover groceries at the store, I bought a box.  I had instinctively thought of a Reuben casserole.

I layered the matzah, sauerkraut, Thousand Island dressing, Swiss cheese and corned beef; I poured egg over it all to bind it together.  I baked it until it was golden, melted, and luscious.  I served it to Jeremy and to his friend Doug.  They loved it.

Then I told them there was some more left in the kitchen, and that they could help themselves to seconds.

Jeremy and Doug looked at me and then looked at each other.  The leapt up, they ran to the kitchen.  They managed to get stuck in the narrow space between one kitchen wall and the extended countertop.  They pushed.  They shoved.  They were laughing, but they still fought to see who would get to the casserole dish first.

Like something out of a cartoon, they went "pop" past the blockade and ricocheted to the stove.  They split the generous quantity of leftovers which would, frankly, have likely offered third helpings.  They were happy.

And so, although I couldn't find the rye flavor this year, I had to make a Reuben Mina while using up the leftover matzah now that Passover has ended.  How could I not?  I approximated the rye flavor with a sprinkling of caraway seeds; it's the caraway  flavor that people seem to associate with rye, anyway.  And this can be made year-round with plain or egg matzah, which is available at any time.

This dish is easy to make, rich, and satisfying.  Trust me - my son is a Reuben expert, and he says "This is (friggin') delicious!"

Reuben Mina

1 cup Egg Beaters
4 plain or egg matzot (plural of matzah)
1-1/2 pounds sauerkraut, drained
8 ounces Thousand Island dressing
1 teaspoon caraway seeds
4 ounces thinly sliced Swiss cheese, divided
1/4 pound thinly sliced deli corned beef, chopped

Preheat oven to 350F.  Grease an 8"x8" baking dish.

Pour 1/4 cup Egg Beaters into the prepared baking dish.  Place 1 matzah plus 1/3 of another matzah into the bottom of the dish.

Combine the sauerkraut, dressing and caraway seeds; place 1/3 of the mixture onto the matzah and spread it out.

Reserve half of the Swiss cheese for later.  Chop the remaining cheese and combine it with the corned beef. Distribute 1/3 of this mixture over the sauerkraut.

Pour another 1/4 cup Egg Beaters over the corned beef.  Place 1 matzah plus 1/3 of another matzah on top.

Place half of the remaining sauerkraut over the matzah and spread it to the edges.  Distribute half of the remaining corned beef mixture over the sauerkraut.

Pour 1/4 cup Egg Beaters over the corned beef.  Place the last matzah and 1/3 portion of matzah on top.  Spread the last of the sauerkraut over the matzah, and top with the last of the corned beef mixture.

Pour the last 1/4 cup Egg Beaters over the casserole, and top with the reserved Swiss cheese.

Bake for 40 minutes until golden and casserole is set.  Let rest for 5 minutes before cutting into 4-6 portions.

Makes 4-6 servings.

Reuben Latkes for the First Night of Chanukkah

Chanukkah, one of my very favorite holidays, begins at sundown tonight. It brings beautiful candlelight from the menorah, as well as permission to eat fried foods without (too much) guilt!

During the eight days of Chanukkah, Jews celebrate "the miracle of the oil" when a mere one day's worth of consecrated oil burned for eight days as the Temple in Jerusalem was rededicated in 165 B.C. In modern times, this has been turned into a tradition of eating latkes [LAHT-kuhs] - fried potato pancakes - and sufganiyot [soof-GAHN-yoht], which are similar to jelly doughnuts.

Now, don't get me wrong - I am not in any way averse to either fried potatoes or fried dough! But I kinda like to honor the traditions while tweaking them a bit.

So instead of making potato pancakes, I deconstructed Jeremy's favorite sandwich - the Reuben - and turned it into a little crispy fried patty of its own.

The familiar flavors shine through, and then they're even enhanced by the caramelization that comes from being fried until golden brown. You could also add a bit of shredded Swiss cheese to the batter; but that wouldn't be kosher (meat and dairy products can't be combined, according to the Jewish dietary laws). Although I don't keep kosher myself, I do try to respect that many of the people celebrating Chanukkah tonight do.

The Reuben latkes are also great for people - like Jeremy and my fabulous blogging buddy Michele - who follow a low-carb diet; there are only about 4 carbs per latke, as opposed to the gazillion that you'll find in the traditional potato variety.

Happy Chanukkah! Enjoy some fried foods over the next eight days, and don't make excuses - just celebrate right along with me!

Reuben Latkes

12 Triscuit crackers - Rye with Caraway Seeds
2 cups sauerkraut
1/2 small onion, finely chopped
4 ounces sliced deli corned beef, chopped
2 large eggs
3/4 cup oil
Thousand Island dressing, for serving

Crush the crackers into fine crumbs and place into a large bowl. Squeeze the sauerkraut to drain it thoroughly, then add it to the mixing bowl with the cracker crumbs. Stir in the onion, the corned beef, and the eggs; combine well.

Heat 1/4 cup oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat; drop batter by 1/4 cupfuls into the oil, making 4 latkes at a time. Cook for 4-5 minutes per side until browned, then remove from skillet to drain on paper towels. Repeat with remaining oil and batter.

Makes 12 latkes. Serve hot, with Thousand Island dressing.

And don't forget to check out some other latke recipes for your Chanukkah celebration:

Curried Latkes with Peas

Jambalaya Latkes

Corned Beef, Piled High

Now that I've got your attention ... :)

Tom and I went to The Bread Basket Deli recently, the one in Ann Arbor rather than any of the myriad ones in the Detroit 'burbs. It serves all the old familiar favorites: sandwiches big enough to feed families of 4, blintzes, matzah ball soup, knishes. They even offer foods that I wouldn't consider favorites (although I'm happy to know that there's respect for tradition), such as chopped liver and pickled tongue.

We were hearing the call of corned beef, loudly and insistently. We'd been meaning to eat at The Bread Basket for ages, so it was a perfect Saturday afternoon adventure. And we were warmly welcomed by the staff in this very informal and casual place which, I must add, just won AnnArbor.com's contest last week naming it "Best Place to Buy a Sandwich." Everyone, including me, thought the winner would be the famous Zingerman's Deli; but Jeremy is still ranting, months later, about a $15 Reuben he bought there that he claims was the worst he's ever eaten; and I had a sandwich from there last year that was fine, but nothing stellar ... certainly not worth the extortionist prices or the inflated reputation. But, as often happens, I digress ....

As we walked into the Deli, we were greeted with one of the items Michigan is most proud of: Better Made potato chips, perfect to be served with the gargantuan sandwich offerings. In the cooler, we also found another Michigan stalwart, Faygo sodas. We knew we were among kindred spirits!




The menu offered so, so many choices for sandwiches; but we'd come on a mission to devour some corned beef, and so our decision-making process was a bit easier. Rye bread is a given -- no other viable options, don't even bother debating it with me! But did we want cheese? Not really. Cole slaw? Okay, and that version (#17) comes with Russian dressing. Sometimes you just want corned beef with mustard, but that day a little extra would hit the spot. Throw in a bag of barbecue chips, and we had a complete meal!

So we sat down at one of the festive red tables, and very quickly our sandwich was brought out to us. We were planning to split it, because neither of us would have survived eating an entire one! And the sandwiches are served with one spear each of new (for Tom) and old (the only real kind, as far as I'm concerned) pickles, though both varieties are available to purchase whole if you're really feeling indulgent.

Tom doesn't normally eat anything this huge, rich and fatty; in fact, he ate about a month's worth of meat in that sitting! I, of course, am currently living in a vegetarian home, so I was thrilled beyond description to wallow in this carnivorous feast.

The corned beef is sliced so thin, and is so tender, that it practically melts. The cole slaw is perfectly seasoned to complement the meat, and is not soupy or creamy at all. In fact, with the exception of a few morsels of cabbage trickling out, the cole slaw is exactly the right consistency to actually help hold the sandwich together rather than the norm of having the filling slip every which way out of the bread. This, I must say, is an impressive feat!

And then -- as though you could possibly have room for anything more! -- there are the desserts, which are just as enormous as the sandwiches: old-fashioned Jewish comfort foods like cheesecake, as well as others such as banana pudding and sweet potato pie. Of course, you'd have to have even a heartier appetite than mine -- and I'm an excellent eater! -- to not only eat an entire sandwich, but to then polish off sweets afterwards ... oy! The folks at The Bread Basket give more generous servings than I do!

So the next time you want to throw any notions of diet and restraint away for awhile, be sure to head to The Bread Basket Deli. Indulge in a sandwich or in a sweet, or even both; and know that you'll be welcomed and well fed.

St. Paddy's Day Feasting

I tend to be a traditionalist, but one who likes to play with the tradition as well.  So yes, I cooked Corned Beef 'n' Cabbage for St. Paddy's Day; but I didn't boil my cabbage along with the meat, and I didn't add carrots, and I didn't serve spuds.  For the sake of convenience -- since Tom was coming over for dinner, and Jeremy and his friend Mitch were headed to an evening party soon after I got home from work -- I plopped the corned beast into my Mama Bear crockpot (vs. the Baby Bear one for dips or the Papa Bear one for feeding crowds) and let it simmer all day long.  Ideally, it would have cooked in a good beer; but that was not an option with this group (Anonymous rules prevent my sharing specifics), so I immersed the main course in water.  I was told by the resident expert-in-all-things-corned-beast, Jeremy, that it was the best one I've made; so clearly, my new technique and boring choice of liquid balanced each other out.

Jeremy and Mitch didn't even bother eating a sample of each item offered; they went straight to making Reubens.  Jeremy had diligently bought the ingredients himself, and prepared the sandwiches to his own specifications.  I'd show you photos of what I'm told were phenomenal specimens ... of course, that would have required someone other than 19-year-old males being involved in this venture, because no signs of these Yeti-like Reubens can be found.  But I'm told they were amazing!

I ate only one bite of the meat because sodium nitrite gives me migraines, and I wasn't going to pay extortionist prices for chemical-free slabs; ours came from Kroger, personally chosen by Jeremy, which was just fine.  Instead, what captures my heart every St. Paddy's Day -- and which, truly, is incredibly seductive -- is my handmade/home-baked Brown Soda Bread with ... sigh ... Dubliner cheese.  If I had to pick a favorite cheese -- which, of course, would be such a taxing job that my brain would explode -- it might just have to be Dubliner.  It's dry like an aged Cheddar, not too strong, with hints of Parmigiano as well ... familiar in some ways, and yet absolutely its own distinctive and delicious entity.  It is sublime eaten simply on its own or with a lovely selection of fruit (fruit and cheese being among my many food-related weaknesses, and virtually a perfect meal -- breakfast, light lunch, tea-time treat, bedtime snack, whatever); but one might almost think it had been specifically created to be served with my soda bread, because the pairing is so astoundingly "right."  My soda bread is made with King Arthur whole wheat flour, oats, rich buttermilk from Calder Dairy, and raisins (Jeremy's preference) or dried cranberries (my own choice) -- it is hearty, almost scone-like in its crumbliness, not sweet, and absolutely addictive.  Slather some good butter on a slice of bread, add Dubliner cheese ... and find bliss.  If this might ever be my last meal, I could die grinning.

I also served the traditional cabbage with my corned beast, although Tom and I were the only ones who ate it; Jeremy will eat cabbage, but only if it's been transformed into either sauerkraut or cole slaw.  I can eat boiled cabbage, but prefer to do more interesting things with my vegetables than merely soak them in water.  So I melted a bit of bacon fat -- because bacon makes everything better, and is proof that there is a God! -- in a frying pan and cooked sliced cabbage and red onion until they were softened and caramelized ... probably over-cooked to most people's tastes, but perfect for mine.

I didn't drink any green beer or Guinness, not being a) a beer drinker, b) a stout drinker, or c) much of a drinker at all.  St. Paddy's Day isn't about being a lush (and am I the only one who thought A2.com's front-page touting of a contributor's day-long attempts at drunkenness was utterly inappropriate and revolting???) -- it's about celebrating one's Irish heritage (I'm 1/4 Irish) ... and, as always, feasting!