Just little ol me, Underblog

Hello. I’m Eric Velasco, a lifelong journalist now plying his trade independently of daily newspapers.

After 29 years in the business I was caught in the double-whammy of an inevitable tectonic shift in my industry from newsprint to a digital platform, hastened by the lingering recession that still has us in its grip.

After Oct. 1 I will freelance as a writer, researcher, advocate and gastronome. Each skill draws on decades of experience.

For 20-odd years, I’ve covered courts, judicial politics and justice issues including capital punishment. I’ve distilled court rulings and legal briefs to their essences and picked apart campaign contributions to ferret out who really pays for our politicians. I’ve told stories from individual trials that get at larger truths about us and society.

I’ve covered the Jefferson County Commission. I’ve written about its $3.2 billion sewer rehabilitation program and the corruption and specious financing that accompanied it, eventually helping to lead the county to financial ruin. I’ve covered what may be one of the few valid accomplishments of imprisoned county commission president Larry Langford – a $1 billion school building/debt reduction program funded by a sales tax. (Admittedly, a sales tax is horribly regressive, but about 40 percent of Jefferson County’s sales tax is paid by people living outside the county who spend money while shopping or working here.)

I’ve also covered the litigation over Jefferson County’s hated occupational tax – a levy on wages for people who work in the county and use its services. Loss of the occupational tax – which provided one-third of the county’s general fund money – led to near-shutdowns of county government services and massive layoffs.

I was the first reporter to recognize that the tax litigation would have a more immediate impact on residents than the specter of bankruptcy due to county’s massive bond debt. Loss of the occupational tax is why people now spend hours in line waiting to renew tags or register new vehicles. It is why zoning is about to become practically nonexistent in unincorporated areas of the state’s largest county. It is why 1,500 people who have not been convicted of anything are packed into a county jail designed for half that number, waiting even longer for trial these days, while a brand new jail in Bessemer sits empty. It is why sheriff’s department says it no longer has enough deputies to even move a dead cow out of the middle of the road, much less work a wreck in the middle of nowhere.

I’ve covered city governments as well, including the identity struggles, explosive development and  growing diversity of Hoover (population 400 in 1967; 82,000 today), founded as a white-flight bedroom community and now arguably the biggest small town in the U.S.

I am a restaurant critic, a cook and a food writer with a lifetime craving for all things culinary the world has to offer. As a father of two young children and the husband of a vegetarian, my cooking experiences have expanded even farther. I know how to source many of the very same ingredients found in high-end restaurants in Birmingham, which is blessed with a vibrant food scene. I know my way around most of Birmingham’s ethnic and specialty markets. One of my greatest joys is sitting at a chef’s counter in a restaurant, talking food with professional cooks and fellow-travelers.

February 2013 marks my 25^th anniversary of home brewing. In the late 1990s, I also dabbled in a little pub brewing, making 210-gallon batches part-time for a brewpub in Macon, Ga. I also wrote a beer newsletter, an educational guide and reward for loyal customers of three bars in Atlanta that ended after seven years with a circulation of 7,000.

I am a native Yankee who has lived in the Deep South since age 4, mostly in Georgia, but also in South Carolina and now in Alabama. I love all sports – yes even soccer. Baseball and college basketball are my favorites and the Atlanta Braves is my favorite team.

But you can’t spend decades in SEC country without developing a healthy appreciation for college football. I’ve tried to be bi-lingual – I say War Tide. But since my in-laws all are serious Bama fans, my son has become a partisan for the Crimson Tide.  Still, he was mighty impressed when he got to try on our neighbor’s rings from playing on Auburn’s championship team in 2010 (which won the national title in January 2011).

After discovering college football in the 2009 season and seeking Alabama sandwich national championships around the War Eagle feat, my son may feel a letdown the next season a team from outside Alabama ends it crowned No. 1. Hopefully that day will not come soon.

This blog will touch on all these subjects and a few more. There will be some commentary on what’s going on around us and where we could go. But we’ll also talk about the finer things in life: the food, drink and conviviality that make life great.

Restaurant Week Blues

Once again, Restaurant Week in Birmingham will end this weekend without my participation. It’s not that I don’t like the concept. This is a great promotion of the independent restaurant scene that makes this city special and that should be cherished.

I love to eat out, and I have to be forced to eat at a chain restaurant. But for some reason I’m never in a position to take advantage of Restaurant Week (actually it is 10 days because organizers were smart enough to include two weekends in the promotion).

For those not familiar, participating restaurants offer special fixed menus at an attractive price – $5 -$15 for lunches, and $10-$30 for dinners. You can eat a three-course meal for $30 (before drinks and tip) at the best restaurant in town, where you might spend $60 or more any other night ordering three courses from the menu. It’s a great way to try a place you normally can’t afford, experience a different restaurant or check out that chef getting the raves these days.

The problem is Restaurant Week just doesn’t work for my situation. My wife, the most wonderful person in the world, is a vegetarian. She has a hard enough time finding something haute that’s not just a mishmash of side dishes; her choices are even more limited on Restaurant Week menus. But as the movie Mafia man said, “This is the life we chose to live.” It goes with the territory.

My wife and I measure time like most parents do: BK (before kids) and AK (after kids). BK, Restaurant Week would have been attractive, even if my wife would end up having to order off the regular menu. AK: the extremely limited (although thoughtful) selection of Restaurant Week kids’ menus makes it less attractive. Throw in school and aftercare in the modern double-income family and extracurriculars like piano, football and gymnastics and it’s darn-near impossible even to find the time to take proper advantage of Restaurant Week.

But mentally, I devour those Restaurant Week menus. In my fantasy world, here’s how I would have grazed this year (with extensive workouts in-between):

Saturday 1: Beer Saturday at Avondale Brewery, followed by a trip to Little Savannah for corn chowder and Alabama catfish, ending with peaches and cream.

Sunday 1: Limited choices: I’d head to Jim N’ Nicks for the brined, smoked pork chop.

Monday: Another day with limited options, but great ones. Lunch at Little Donkey for Salad Picado and tacos; dinner at VINO (where just about everything on the Restaurant Week special menu sounds good).

Tuesday: Now options are widening. Dinner plans this week would feature a tour of participating Big Dog restaurants, so why not launch with a Frank Stitt day-night double header? Bottega Café for lunch (a wood-fired pizza). Then dinner at one of the best restaurants in the country, Highlands Bar and Grill, for chilled corn soup, pork confit with Southern vegetables and what sounds like a decadent chocolate sundae dessert.

Wednesday: Lunch at Café de Paris: “gaspaccho” chilled tomato soup and Mediterranean chicken. Dinner at Ocean would bring a surprising choice from a place known for its seafood: slow-braised short ribs with (OK, so it’s not a total stretch) crawfish etouffe. That cherry, heirloom tomato, local greens and goat cheese salad sounds interesting, too.

Thursday: Rogue burger for lunch. Dinner at The Veranda for the ham and melon plate appetizer, pork duo entree (mmmmm, pork belly) and pound cake/berry dessert.

Friday: Blaze on with another Stitt double-header: Lunch at Chez Fon Fon, cucumber soup and Poulet Provençale; dinner at Bottega Dining Room where the braised lamb with eggplant probably would win out over spaghetti with clams.

Saturday 2: Here’s the chance to visit another James Beard chef, Chris Hastings, for dinner. But before there’s serious eating and drinking to be done: Lunch at JoJo’s Diner in Homewood to check out that chuck-brisket burger; Good People at the second Beer Saturday hosted by Dave’s Pub.

Then it’s time to hit Hot and Hot Fish Club for what sounds like a fascinating chilled soup that includes tomatoes, watermelon, squash, cucumber and – yes you’re reading this right – heirloom tomato sorbet. Truly an Iron Chef-style inspiration. My meal at the chef’s counter also would include the 13-Mile shrimp pasta dish and a rich panna cotta.

Sunday 2: Slices at Slice for lunch. And for dinner, haul my now-bloated body back to Little Donkey, because that tamal of the day and wood-oven braised chicken tomatillo sounds too good to miss.

Of course, I never could make it through 10 days of over-the-top eating like that – from a financial or health standpoint. If anything it’s just an exercise in vicarious pleasure.

But one day, perhaps as my children’s taste buds become more sophisticated, I hope to do more than fantasize on Restaurant Week in Birmingham.