Movie Theater Food 911: How Can It Be Salvaged?

Perhaps you'll see a film over this pre-holiday weekend, and perhaps you'll pay $4 for sub-optimal popcorn. That in itself doesn't especially irritate me. No, that's the role of the $4 soft drink and $4 candy, for a total of $12 for a snack worth about $3.50 at retail.

If the food were any good, maybe the price wouldn't be an issue. But the candy selection is infantile. The soft drinks are never mixed right and are either syrupy or weak or taste like the stuff that cleans the tubes. I have personally witnessed the unloading of giant bags of pre-popped corn at a local theater. It tasted like it was trucked in from California after a long boat ride from China.

Are you one of those people who skips the whole issue by taking your own treats? If so, Cinematical has a thought for you, which is that movie theaters aren't in the entertainment business; they're in the concessions business, so please buy concessions.

There are definitely two sides to the story. The theater deserves to make a profit. Theatergoers deserve to vote with their wallets, especially at a time like this. I worry a little that some theaters won't make it through the downturn, if it's true that 80 percent of profits come from concessions. That's a lot to ask of stale pretzels.

(After the jump, 8 ways to improve movie theater food.)

Send P.J. Tobia to Afghanistan in Style: Where Do You Get Decent Veal in This Town?

Scene investigative reporter P.J. Tobia, an adventurer in all things, has decided to vacation this Thanksgiving in sunny Afghanistan as a guest of the 101st Airborne. (That's right: P.J. is using his vacation time to chill in formerly Taliban-occupied comfort.) Before he leaves the U.S. to chow down on MRE turkey and dressing, however, he would love a send-off meal—nothing fancy, just some veal and a nice chianti.

Please, Bites brigade, help this lonely overseas traveler. Who in Nashville has the best veal, scallopini or otherwise?

(Picture cribbed from Modern Drunkard. And follow P.J.'s travels at his blog Proof of P.J.)

The Tale of the Housewife and the Party Bird, or: Can You Leave Your Chicken Soup on the Stove?

“The housewife frequently meets up with the leavings of a party bird from which a good stock can be made.”

So says my Joy of Cooking. Now, I’m not quite sure who the party bird in my house is, just as I’m not sold on exactly who the housewife is. Nor do I have a taste for bird-leaving broth. But I did shove the greasy dregs of a Harris Teeter roasted chicken into a pot last night, with some carrots, celery, onion and spices and simmered until I got what appears to be a broth acceptable to any housewife or party bird.

Here’s my question: Now that I have a giant pot of cold party bird soup on the stove and I’m headed to work for the day, can I leave it out all day and reheat when I get home, or does it need to go in the fridge? Fluffernutter, can I have a ruling?

Bleeding Economic Indicator: Check Local Groceries for Choice Cuts at Discount Rates

In today's economic news, area supermarket shoppers report the return of the Moribund Meat Bin. Long the best source for strip and sirloin for economically squeezed households and admitted tightwads, the bin vanished in flush economic times.

An i-reporter snapped this photo of a large sirloin tip steak marked down to $7. Other bargains included so-called "luxury cuts" like New York strip and a whole side of salmon.

The repository for overpriced or unpopular cuts reaching their "sell-by" date, the bin is also called the Carnivore Clearance Tub, The Chop Chop Shop, and Steak this Kebab and Stove It.

So what's in the bin at your local?

The Price Is Always Right: What's Worth Buying Only the Best?

Heard the joke about Things You Want to Pay Full Price for? I never remember jokes, so don't ask me, but the punchline involves surgery and seafood.

Because, really, what would be involved in discount surgery?

Everyone is rethinking food bills, but presumably for every household, there's an item for which it is willing to pay full price for. At our house, the list includes seafood, canned clams, coffee, and roast peanuts because the non-premium version of each isn't something to look forward to.

Moving into the larger neighborhood, one neighbor insists on fresh bread—they want it soft and fresh, so no day-old bread. And they don't buy it on sale and freeze it. Another insists on Heinz ketchup, price be darned, because the kids won't tolerate other brands.

In these tight economic times, what foods are you unwilling to compromise on?

OMG of the Week: Roast with the Most

This is a sirloin tip roast, like the label says. But it's not just an ordinary roast. It's from Robert Regg, a quirky family-run business that's one of Nashville's tiny handful of federally inspected, HACCP-compliant meat processing plants. (You'd be shocked, but strangely relieved, at the masses of compliance paperwork involved.)

And it's USDA graded "choice," not the "select" grade stocked in supermarkets. (Costco sells choice-grade meat.) Choice meat is lusciously marbled, and you could just cart this little nugget home and cut it into 12 one-pound sirloin steaks. Some will be more tender than others, but all of them could be fajitas or kebabs. For $60. I haven't done it yet; I'm just sayin'. If you do it, report back to Bites.

Robert Regg Meats, 621 Middleton. 244-1945. Opening hours vary, so call first.

A Popeye's Fried Chicken How-To

In response to a recent comment on Friday's fast-food rating post and link on Bites, it's time, I suppose, to publish this tidbit. I've been keeping it to myself, selfishly, for years. Finally, the time--and the audience--seems right.

After nearly two decades of occasional travel in the deep South, the Wood family has discovered that the trick to getting a great meal at Popeye's is to avoid Popeye's locations north of Jackson, Miss.

There's probably an exception in each town—possibly all of Memphis, for instance. In Nashville, the exception is the Popeye's on Jefferson, where we stopped recently.

Spicy, juicy, savory and greasy. It was the Popeye's you hope for every time, wherever you order it. Know of a good Popeye's location in town or in another city?

Plumgood to the Rescue

I'm not saying that Plumgood Food actually engineered the gas shortage in Middle Tennessee any more than I'm saying these people did. But when the Fox fuel tanks were on E this weekend, the purple truck sure looked like a hero, pulling into our driveway with local and organic produce, fresh chicken, and Purity milk and ice cream.

Ever since the online grocer kicked its delivery fee this summer, I've been increasingly tempted to log on and order up. So far, the service has been consistently excellent. I placed an order at 9 p.m. on Friday night and had groceries by noon the next day. Produce—specifically corn, broccoli and green beans—has been better than anything I've hand-picked in the store, and the prices on many items are comparable to the supermarket.

Originally founded as an organic grocer, Plumgood has increasingly expanded its offerings to include thousands of mainstream products, from potato chips and ice cream to diapers and paper towels. If I could make one suggestion, I would ask them to start delivering Lazzaroli's Pasta. And of course, gas.

Any other requests for Plumgood?

R.I.P. K.R.U.P.S.

I wake up long before the coffeehouses open, so I brew my own latte and cappuccino. For years I've used this ancient little Krups formerly belonging to my dear restaurant reviewing companion Thing One before he moved to the jungle where there are no electrical outlets. This week it gave up the ghost with a hideous, steaming shriek.

But I found a new way to make cappuccino until my anniversary Christmas I buy a new machine. Curious cook Harold McGee has a microwave technique for making the foamy, frothy hot milk that makes a latte or cappuccino that dairy-licious delight.

Pour the milk into a microwaveable jar, filling it about halfway full. (A 1-pint Mason jar is a good choice.) (A jam jar is good too.) (I might draw the line at a pickle jar.)

Screw on the lid and Shake.It.Like.You.Stole.It. You’re trying to break the cell membrane of something or other in the fat or sugar chains, which is key to the different texture of foamed milk and merely hot milk. So get jiggy with it and stay that way for a while, like 30 seconds.

Now microwave it until it's steaming hot. When you’re done, you’ve got frothy steamed milk made the new old-fashioned way. And you can say "Krup you!" to the deceased macchina.

It's the Sign for 'Medium Rare'

Hey kids, were you disappointed on Memorial Day that the pork chops were chewy and the steak was dry? Here’s a tip for you to pass along to the Chief Grilling Person at your Labor Day gathering (after you’ve taught him how to program the TiVo).

For tender, moist steaks and chops, here’s what Handy Mom Catherine Mayhew recommends: Touch the tip of your thumb to the tip of your middle finger.

This action flexes the palm muscle next to your thumb. Now press that fleshy part of your palm. That's the texture that Chief Grilling Person wants to achieve for medium-rare beef and for pork that's medium–done but rosy, as Mayhew says. Let’s call it 150 degrees for beef, maybe 155 for pork. Safe but still succulent.

Got that, young people? Great! Now please go download the digital photos from Memorial Day so we can shoot the Labor Day festivities.