I've been collecting little bits and pieces over the last few weeks -- bits of information and opinion not large enough in and of themselves to make a column, but of interest nonetheless. This week, we'll do a little housecleaning.

Mustard Marinade

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Anyone who's seen Barry Levenson and the Mustard Museum on FoodTV has seen his chef making mustard-marinated catfish. Thanks to David Zey, of Zy-Sauces, I've added a new dimension to the recipe.

Instead of the yellow mustard mixed with an egg used to marinate the fish, I've used a bottle of Dave's "Seriously Southern Mustard Barbecue Sauce." As I told Barry, I may never eat beef again. I may just sleep next to my deep-fryer, waking up occasionally to fry more fish.

Now, Zy-Sauce is sold in grocery stores throughout the Carolinas, but if you aren't lucky enough to live here you can find it here.

Cast-Iron On Glasstops

For those of you who missed it: I've now spoken to three manufacturer's reps and four appliance repairmen, and the consensus is that the only real danger in using cast iron pots on glasstop ranges comes if you try to move them around. You'll dig grooves.

I'd also steer clear of heaving that fully-loaded Dutch oven onto a burner. Be gentle or get out your checkbook.

Speaking Of Cast Iron ...

One weekend morning recently, I actually managed to stir myself before noon and got creative in the kitchen.

See, breakfast on weekends has never been one of my strongest points, as I'm rarely awake during the hours that most normal folk consider "breakfast" time. When you don't arise until lunchtime, it's just easier to throw a burger on the grill and call it brunch.

However, because I was awake at the ungodly hour of 8:30 a.m., I got out Junior, my 9-inch cast iron skillet, and got to pondering. I had a hunk of smoked venison/pork sausage in the fridge, about 4 ounces, a dozen fresh eggs and the ever-present sack of shredded sharp cheddar.

I set the skillet on a burner turned to medium with one tablespoon of vegetable oil in it, and turned on the oven broiler to preheat.

Trusty Henckels blade in hand, I cut the sausage into small chunks and tossed it in the skillet to brown along with two cloves of garlic, chopped. While it cooked, I cracked and beat a half-dozen eggs.

When the sausage was lightly browned, I drained off most of the fat, leaving about 2 tsp. just to keep the eggs from sticking, and poured in the eggs. I left them alone, not stirring at all.

When the top began to set just a bit around the edges, I scattered the cheese on top and put the pan under the broiler for two minutes, just to brown the top a touch.

It may not have been elegant eats, but the result was far superior to anything I would have shelled out six bucks for at a chain restaurant. Cast iron wins another round!

Restaurant Review

I don't normally review restaurants, especially chain joints, but when I see evidence of gross mismanagement that spoils an otherwise enjoyable evening, I feel the need to extend a red flag to warn you, dear readers.

Recently, I got curious about O'Charley's, a chain with 222 locations through the Southeast and Midwest. The menu looked quite varied, and from the commercials it seemed like a slightly homier version of TGIFriday's.

I wish I'd been right.

I started off ordering some hot wings, which came recommended by a reader in Georgia. They had an intriguing cornmeal-like breading that was quite tasty, but the "spicy" referred to in the menu did not make an appearance at any point. The sauce was, well, red ... beyond that I couldn't define much in the way of flavor.

Then the fun truly began. I ordered the Lemon Artichoke Chicken, which has been advertised heavily and looked quite tasty. When it was delivered (well before I was done with my salad, which annoys), I discovered that the chicken breast had been burned beyond recognition and then covered with the sauce.

I understand that every kitchen screws up a dish now and again, but what happened when I sent it back moved the experience from annoying to rageworthy.

It was over 20 minutes before the waitress, who had been very sympathetic and truly put in a good effort, told me the reorder was ready. By that time, my partner had finished her meal and I asked for the food to be put in a to-go container. That took another five-plus minutes.

Now, I've worked in restaurant kitchens. When a customer sends food back, the preparation of the replacement order becomes a top priority. You've already got an annoyed diner ... why make it worse by sitting on their order?

It takes four minutes, maybe five to cook a chicken breast on a flat-top grill. All the other items were pre-made concoctions.

You can do the math yourselves.

Oh, and the flavor of the finished product? The "lemon" flavor was undetectable and the artichoke hearts, which are a favorite of mine, were gummy and even a bit slimy on the tongue.

Like so many chains, O'Charley's operates a Web site with a very easy-to-use customer feedback interface. Apparently, it's easy to use because it's not actually connected to anything. I registered my concerns three days ago and have heard not a peep.

Tip For Deep-Fried Economy

With turkey-frying season just around the corner, preserving frying oil for multiple sessions has been much on my mind.

With all the testing taking place in the kitchen lately, I'd be going broke buying peanut oil if it weren't for a good filtering setup.

I tried colanders (didn't get all the particles), cheesecloth (WAY too expensive) and coffee filters (too small and slow-draining). I was just about at the end of my rope when I had a sudden epiphany.

In my garage, tucked inside my turkey frying pot, was a giant funnel with large, coarse-paper filters that fit inside it. I use the rig to filter my turkey oil. It was one of those inside tool/outside tool issues that trip up many a cook from time to time, and I'm just glad I got my brain in gear before I had to sell one of the dogs.

For those of you devoid of a turkey fryer, get yourself to your local sporting goods store and hit the camping equipment section. You'll find several different choices, narrowing down basically into two types: pump-based and gravity-fed. The pump rigs will cost you a pretty penny, and for the small quantity of oil in your average countertop fryer, they're really excessive. Buy a gravity-fed (funnel) type and a stock of filter papers.

The biggest trick to keeping your oil fresh is not allowing sediment to build up in the fryer. That's what burns and turns the oil into black goo that will flat ruin whatever you put into it. Filter after every serious fry session involving any sort of batter or breading. Fifty cents for a filter versus $7.99 for a gallon of peanut oil is an easy math problem, even for me.

Got a comment? Question? Recipe to share? Drop me a line anytime!

Previous Stories:

• Oct. 29, 2004: Make Simple, Fun Halloween Treats
• Oct. 15, 2004: Oniony Goodness
• Oct. 8, 2004: Edible Discoveries
• Oct. 1, 2004: Ice Cream Travelogue
• Sep. 24, 2004: Geaux Fish
• Sep. 17, 2004:In Praise Of Ice Cream
• Sep. 10, 2004: Building Your Storm Pantry
• Sep. 3, 2004: The Great Foodie Test
• Aug. 27, 2004: Leftover Surprise!
• Aug. 20, 2004: The True Greats