Giusto Gusto

I’m planning a most righteous Booze of the Month report for Monday, so today’s post is more of a tribute to an even more righteous weekend soaking in what’s left of the summer heat. That’s right readers from out of town, it’s still 70+ in NC and we’re making the most of it, traversing across the piedmont to the cool breezes and salty sands of Carolina Beach.

Andyman & 5 of his college alums planned a trip to da beach and I did my civil duty of crashing the shit out of it. Lucky for me, I’ve known most of these cats for years now and we colonized the north shore of Carolina Beach like Columbus on a good day:

Night 1: Dinner at K38 Grill owned by the Tower 7 crew and equally as delicious. Drinks followed, eyed skeptically at Triangle Lounge, then less skeptically at Satellite near downtown.

Day 2: Scout camp, set up camp, entertain all of  Carolina Beach with Kubb, a Swedish lawn darts game the crew picked up during a 6-month stint in Stockholm in Industrial Design school. The cop patrolling the beach bought a set in the car while he watched, slacker. Drink in celebration of our Kubb win, chow down on Po Boys at Tangerine. Double check camp, stock up on fire wood, then head to a oyster roast for kegged home brews and piping-hot fresh oysters.

Back to the beach for epic bon fire, galactic conversations, and more high-life than I care to remember.

Day 3: Burry high-life in Neese’s Sausage, biscuits, Meg’s Pumpkin Bread, and much much gatorade. Tear down camp, pack the trucks, and head downtown for a last minute bite at Chops Deli (1/2lb of meat included).

Big Ups to the fellas for letting me tag along. I hope I earned my place fueling the fire with cosmo-convos, troublesome stories, and a general disregard for consumption levels. Carolina Beach or Bust 2012!

Our rugby team used a play deemed the “Clusterf*ck”, a chaotic barrage of bodies forced by momentum and brute force thru the opposing teams fringe. This past weekends inaugural Raleigh Food Truck Meetup in City Plaza was eerily similar. Arriving at an appropriate 7 PM, the plaza was alive with hungry Raleighites ready to nom on some noble mobile fare. But the chaos was about to begin…

As we crept closer to the alleyway of tempting smells it quickly became apparent our tastebuds would have to wait for satisfaction. Every truck, from chirba chirba dumplings to big al’s bbq, had lines twisting thru the galley. Like sheep on their way to slaughter, we waited tirelessly for the first taste of the evening. 30 minutes later we had made it, placed our order, and just as we expected to reach out in glory for our long-awaited grindz we were told, “ok, now leave us your phone number and we’ll text you when your order’s ready.”

Sauce of the weakest variety. An hour later, sustaining our hunger thru pints of beer, we were finally paged and fought our way back thru the crowd to receive our reward. The rest of the dining experience followed much the same, ending in a frantic run to any and all trucks with food left – pathetic really.

Chirba Chirba’s dumplings were on point, and realizing the owners were high school mates of ours was a welcome surprise. Klausies pizza was a serious let down – thick, greasy, and topped with uncooked pork products of mediocre quality. I’d like to say big al’s brisket was sublime, only burger’s burger was cooked to perfection, and bukogi serves up a mean korean taco but sadly the lines made that impossible.

It wasn’t a total loss, we got to enjoy a brisk evening downtown sipping winter brews, watching wikkens dance with glow sticks, and jamming out to the musical stylings of Annuals, a great Raleigh band who’s overdue for stardom.

Raleigh’s never had a Food Truck event, ever, this was the first. So I’m not all that shocked that a magnitude 8 cluster*ck ensued, but lets hope the truck owners and city alike learn from the experience and come back both guns blazing with shorter lines and faster service.

While the State Fair is littered with greasy fingered giants ready to beach themselves on the next funnel cake stand, I ventured to the Farmers Market for a bite into something fresh. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll be at the fair this week for damn sure – Paulie needs his smoked turkey leg like last year – but Fall in NC inevitably grows good eats.

The market was overflowing with the summers last rewards while the new fall crops sprang into center stage. The prices are low, the smells are intoxicating, and the midday October sun turned every basket into a lighting studio:

Globe Zucchini, tender and tiny, are killer stuffed and baked.

Summers last grape tomatoes, sweet as sugar and outlandishly cheap.

Graffiti Eggplant also great for stuffing, as well as slicing up and grilling for mozzarella sammies.

Acid-trip peppers of every variety, including these minis. Apparently all of the day’s veggies were meant to be stuffed.

Fragrant herbs and greens at a third of the super-market price. Pestos beyond pestos to be had.

Fresh, Boiled, Fried, and Salted Peanuts. I’m stocking up like a chipmunk for the next ice age.

Apples, apples and more apples. Honeycrips are my jam, but the 2lb bag I grabbed was lackluster to say the least. Note to self – try the samples next time.

You call these chiles? Someone needs to stop by Vesta Farms and see how it’s done. Can’t beat the price tho.

NC Muscadine grapes, not bad but awful for wine. People will make booze out of anything I guess.

Fresh-pressed apple cider is about as on-point as you can get during fall.

Now it’s on to the fair where I’ll devour what’s left of my pride and dignity in a sugar laden, fried on a stick and coated in bacon blaze of glory. Diabetes here I come!

Countless chiles are beginning to fall from their emerald bushes faster than tie-dyed leaves off an oak tree. The Vesta Harvest is in full swing and far more rewarding than my father and I expected. Our initial estimates  were grim, but our rugged chile plants have battled against all odds to offer a seemingly never-ending bounty of heat. With the cool winds setting in, the plants are burning off their last resources, ripening quickly and ready to be transformed into jars of fiery Vesta for the masses:

The prize of our entire garden: a legit Bhut Jolokia (ghost chile) plant from the University of New Mexico dripping with inferno-insane chiles.

One of the gnar-gnar Ghost Chiles off our beloved UNM plant.

Thai Chiles reaching towards the sun for a last taste of sweet, sweet photosynthesis.

A perfectly ripe Habanero begging to be plucked.

Our personal favorite chile, a Chocolate Habanero, with a flavor and heat unrivaled by nearly all others.

10 minutes worth of picking and our box was stocked to the brim. This will continue for the next 2 weeks…we’re gonna need a bigger boat…I mean freezer.

Pops working on a fresh batch of Vesta for a giant party on the farm, hope everyone likes it hot. (Notice we have to cook this outside to reduce lung failure or rabid mother syndrome).

It looks like our 2011 endeavor was a success after all, even if we ended up with a clusterf*ck of a farm with more weeds than plants and a last-second attack from our flamboyant friends above. Jokes on you tubby, they’re all hot as shit! Seeya in hell bugger.