2150 Main Street, Waitsfield, 802-496-7555

In Burlington, when a yen for handcrafted, farm-to-table fare hits, The Bluebird Tavern and The Farmhouse Tap & Grill are obvious options. Outside of the Queen City, the choices dwindle drastically. Whether you're near Waitsfield or not, I recommend that you hightail it to the The Barn Door.

The 1824 House, right along Waitsfield's main drag, was long known as the spot to hit for a formal, European-inflected dinner. Connie and Dean Mendell — of The Village Porch Bar & Bistro in Rochester —  re-opened the inn this June with a more casual restaurant that strikes both global and local chords. Ever since I saw the menu, I had been gasping to give it a try.

I wasn't disappointed. How could I have been, given that I showed up during "beef week?" Each week, chef Luke Stone — a protegé of Maura O’Sullivan and Charles Reeves of Penny Cluse Café — plans several specials around the goods from one local farm. A small sandwich board on the side of the road trumpeted this cycle's main ingredient: Beef from Orb Weaver Farm in New Haven. Though I was tempted by homemade spaghetti with herb and shallot meatballs and garlic bread, I decided to try a couple of menu staples instead, made with meats from 1824's regular suppliers.

But first, there were rolls. Oh, the rolls! Like wheat Easter eggs with a doughy inside and chewy crust. The spritz of butter alongside was the size of my (small) fist, and was not only eminently spreadable but wonderfully creamy and salty.

The grilled bread on which the burger was served was similarly fresh, chewy, and best of all, buttery. The beef, from Gaylord Farm, was roughly ground in-house. If you don't like your burger a little chunky, this is not the patty for you. The beef flavor was strong and substantial. I would go as far as to say... manly. My first bite resulted in a gush of juice I had only experienced before when chomping on wagyu.

Though the beef was not from Orb Weaver Farm, the cheese was — the farmstead offering resembled a very mild and creamy cheddar. The cheese helped balance out-of-this-world maple-cured, house-smoked bacon and an assemblage of button mushrooms so crisp and salty that they existed merely as an extension of the bacon's awesome power.

A smattering of greens on top provided a refreshing zip, as did a trio of sweet, house-pickled gherkins. Fries were crisp and came with a container of the house ketchup. Not as fruity as the ketchups made in-house at other local restaurants, this condiment tasted mostly of tomato and onion with just a hint of spice. I also got some garlicky aioli on the side, presented in swirls, as if it had come out of a tiny pastry bag.

The house-made bratwurst came with sharp, grainy mustard, but I preferred to enjoy the well-rounded, beer-bolstered taste of the juicy pork on its own. The mild sauerkraut was also delicious and fresh-tasting. To further sweeten the deal, the plate was piled with grilled roots, including a perfectly round potato and a petite onion.

Though already full, I had to give a final salute to "Beef Week" in the form of dessert. Whenever possible, Stone tries to integrate the theme ingredient into a dessert: During cabbage week, there was cabbage and cherry strudel with Guinness-caraway ice cream. Another recent menu included candied tomatoes in vanilla syrup with lime ice cream and almond tuile. This week, it was rice pudding made with beef marrow, surrounded by ginger and anise-marinated melon. It was my duty as a food writer to try it.

Okay, it looked like brains. All rice pudding looks like brains. Get over it. Not all rice pudding tastes like beef fat. The flavor was right out of the barnyard, but still sweet and unquestionably a dessert. Did I like it? I have no idea. It was interesting. Either way, I can't wait to head back and try more Iron Chef-level creativity, using exactly what's at its prime that week.

951 Main Street, Fairfax 802-849-0265

One of the first places I ever ate in Vermont was the Country Pantry in Fairfax. The year was 1996. It was spring and kids were playing baseball in the field nearby, the scent of fresh manure drifting all around. The food was great. I was completely won over by the hot turkey sandwich, with its flavorful yellow gravy, crisp fries and colorful presentation (see top photo on right).

Over the years, the Country Pantry, later AJ's Country Pantry, remained my favorite spot for hot turkey or a huge, cheap breakfast. It closed late last year. Jack Foley, owner of another good breakfast spot, 158 Main in Jeffersonville, reopened the joint as Vermont Breakfast Company in February.

After a suitable period of mourning, I finally gave it a try on Sunday. The first signs were good: The full breakfast menu is served until 4 p.m., when abbreviated options kick in. There was a wait for a table, too, even at 1:30 in the afternoon, just like the old days.

The space was slightly spiffed up, but mostly the same. The photos of livestock, for example, were still in place on the walls. The menu promised plenty of enticing options, both new and old. I briefly considered bananas Foster pancakes or a sausage, egg, cheese and rosemary breakfast sandwich. However, I knew the best way to judge the place would be to order the same things I did when I reviewed AJ's Country Pantry in September.

For about the same price, I got a couple of thin (though wonderfully tender) slices of turkey on home-baked bread with a side of crisp fries. I missed AJ's cranberry sauce, the coleslaw, the orange section...even the light showering of parsley — basically, color (see bottom photo on right). The offering with would have been okay, despite slightly thin and over-salted gravy, if it did not compare so wanly the older and better balanced rendition.

When a place has breakfast in its name, it better be good. Luckily, the farmers breakfast at VBC stood up well to its predecessor. The big breakfast plate at AJ's included just one type of meat: At VBC, you get two juicy sausages and two hearty slabs of exceptionally smoky, peppery bacon. The two eggs were cooked to ideal over-medium. Ultra-thick french toast can be made from any of the six home-baked breads on the menu. We went with white, and the centers of the well-soaked slices reminded me of a light, moist soufflé. The outside was crisp, with a pleasant hint of cinnamon that paired deliciously with maple syrup. The home fries appeared to be baked, despite their name. They were lightly dusted in Cajun seasoning, and acted as a slightly spicy foil to the sweet and salty breakfast items.

All in all, I learned my lesson: Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and when eating at VBC, I shouldn't skip it.

2176 rue St-Catherine, Montréal, QC, 514-932-7565

It's not an exaggeration to say Korean barbecue is my favorite thing in the world. I have been absolutely obsessive about the grill-it-yourself meat meal since I was a small child. My license plate says 'BULGOGI' — the word for my favorite, thinly sliced, marinated beef.

My life changed for the better a couple of years ago when I discovered the subculture of all-you-can-eat Korean barbecue (AYCEKBBQ) in Los Angeles. Until this weekend, I had yet to find a satisfying Korean barbecue experience in Montréal, let alone an all-you-can-eat version that kicked ass. Then I came across 5000 Ans.

The name of the restaurant refers to the Korean creation myth, in which Dangun Wanggeom asked his heavenly grandfather, Hwanin, to grant him rule over the Asian peninsula. That was roughly 5000 years ago. I would not be surprised if Hwanin had a celestial glimmer in his eye when he pointed me down St-Catherine on Sunday.

For $21 Canadian and change, I was treated to a feast.

1160 Williston Road, South Burlington 802-862-1211

We all know the story — friends who have known each other for a decade suddenly realize it's love. While I've always enjoyed what I've had with Charlie's (still known as Chicken Charlie's to most of us), we recently took it to the next level. And it's serious: I've eaten there three times in the last three weeks.

Why the change? This is going to sound stupid, but even though the place specializes in rotisserie chicken, I had never ordered it. A few weeks ago, that changed. I had an intense pollo a la brasa craving, and though I knew I couldn't get the Peruvian bird in Burlington, I figured Charlie's would be the next best thing. It easily surpassed my expectations.

The half chicken that I tried was juicy inside, but it was the crisp, fantastically seasoned skin that made the dish. I don't usually go crazy for the taste of unadorned poultry, preferring it as a vessel for sauces. Not this one. Though it's great dipped in a little bit of the sweet and slightly creamy-tasting housemade balsamic vinaigrette I put on my salad, anything else simply overwhelms the delicious natural flavor.

I like to forgo the coleslaw and starch (and the tomato-soup-like concoction called "Charlie's Gravy") in favor of a big, fresh salad, with a tub of the aforementioned balsamic dressing on the side. No brown fast food lettuce here — everything is fresh and flavorful. Even the tomatoes, so often tasteless even at high-end restaurants, have a strong, properly tomato-y flavor.

Last night, I was really hungry, and decided to spring for ribs with my chicken. According to the menu, I was getting four meaty baby back bones with my quarter chicken for $13.49. It turned out to be six-and-a-half bones, which would probably cost $13.49 on their own most places. They were tender inside with a light layer of crisp char outside, and once again, surpassed my expectations. The tomato-based, sweet-and-tangy sauce brushed on them was nice, too.

My feelings have also been sparked anew by the jumbo tenders. Most really flavorful fried chicken is speckled with herbs and pepper. Not at Charlie's, where the light breading is a pure amber color. I don't know why the meat tastes so great, but I suspect a brine. Whatever the answer, the things are addictive. No matter how many I get I want more, and once again, I think they taste better without sauce. It must be love.

106 West Street, Rutland, 802-786-8080

I've written a fair amount about the rich history of ethnic food in Rutland: The city has had a Chinese restaurant for more than 70 years, and Vermont's first pizza was served in Rutland in 1949. Last weekend's Ethnic Food Festival included dishes with roots in the Republic of the Congo and Korea — rare commodities in the Green Mountains, even in this day and age.

I couldn't make it to the festivities, but after an awesome afternoon at Wilson Castle in Proctor, I figured a good meal in nearby Rutland would be the icing on the cake. The menu at Tokyo House was promising. A range of noodle soups from nabeyaki udon to sukiyaki shared menu space with sushi dishes, including one simply called "peanut roll."

The sushi I saw looked promising, but I was starving after walking the castle's historic halls and wanted something more substantial. I started with an appetizer of chicken and vegetable tempura. At first glance, the tiny shards clinging to the chicken looked like panko, but it was indeed a very fine, supremely airy batter. The meat, as well as zucchini, eggplant and yam slices were cooked to optimal doneness, and paired perfectly with the warm soy-based dipping sauce.

Things went downhill from there.