It will take forever for me to write about everything we've eaten and cooked over the last week or so, but here is a really quick recipe that resulted from arrving back at home after the holiday to a fairly empty kitchen except for leftovers...I didn't write a recipe while making it, so I hope this is about right. We were looking for something with a little less fat in it!! The boy liked it so much he insisted I try and write it down so I could make it again. I swear, I am trying to practice to write for other cooks. It's hard, most of the time I just improvise. Well, here goes!
Impromptu Black Bean Soup
Saute in 4qt pot:
1 small onion chopped
1 tb olive oil
After 3-4 minutes add:
4 cloves garlic chopped
3 gentle shakes of chili powder
1.5 tsp ground cumin
After 1 minute add:
1 can black beans drained
1 can creamed corn
1 can diced tomatoes with green chilies
1 can H20
2 bouillon chicken cubes
Bring to boil then cover and reduce to simmer for 30-45 minutes.
Turn off heat and puree ½ of mixture + 2tb neufchatal/cream cheese
Return to pot and stir.
Add and stir:
¼ Meyer lemon squeezed
3tb chopped fresh cilantro
Salt and Pepper to taste
Garnish with any of the following
Sr cream, cilantro, slivers of Monterey jack or cheddar
Gently squirt a little more Meyer lemon over top before serving.
YUM!
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Monday, December 17, 2007
French Kissing a Mexican
Intriguing title no?
What really happened was Belle Bleue and her husband and the boy and I visited Mi Barrio the other night in Grant Park. It came to us with great reviews. The kissing reference alludes to some fantastic tongue I had. I had never had tongue...well beef tongue... and I am glad I have now.
In the interest of time I will review what the boy and I ate since I did not taste our friend's meals. We had:
Guacamole
Good! Simple! Not crammed with stuff that belongs in salsa, picante or pico de gallo. Just avocado whipped to its sexy personal creaminess and a hint of lime and salt.
Beef Tongue and Steak "Soft" Tacos
I loved both these tacos. They are the simple, real Mexican style taco with cilantro, a little onion and lime juice. The tongue was rich and moist; the steak flavorful. The tortillas are hand made, and I wonder if they are white corn because they tasted like corn, but were not the pale yellow of regular corn tortillas. They were delicious and light in any case.
Pork Tamale
Too dry and tasteless. Steaming these babies should keep them moist and flavorful, especially if they are not slipped out of their corn husk embrace until right before serving. I used to buy some from the guys in my old neighborhood in Chicago for $1. They would pull them steaming from the pockets of their coats, and I would unpeel the corn husk and nibble on moist tenderness while I waited in the snow for the train...that was good tamale.
Coctel de Camaron (small)
Bizarre and very huge. Especially for a small. It was layered cilantro, tomatoes, onions and shrimp in faintly lime scented watery stuff. The shrimp were the right firmness and tasted fresh; they just bored me. But perhaps it is my own fault for sharing this and not getting the ceviche...I was craving the crisp burst of lime marinated seafood and the floral dance of cilantro around firm flesh, but this was hardly the coctel. Though to be fair, the boy liked it and so do Bleue and hubby.
Beverages: A Tecate and a Modelo
The service left something to be desired. It was very busy and confused. Every table was filled, and we had four different people attending to us, but none of them seemed aware of the other. I have no idea whom we tipped at the end. Sadly all of us had eaten most of our supper before the boy's chile relleno even arrived. I am assuming the place is just having growing pains as they seem wildly popular, and this could explain some of the disappointing dishes as well as the haphazard service. Neither were bad per se, just nervously ill prepared. I wish them luck and may be back for another little kiss sometime in the future.
What really happened was Belle Bleue and her husband and the boy and I visited Mi Barrio the other night in Grant Park. It came to us with great reviews. The kissing reference alludes to some fantastic tongue I had. I had never had tongue...well beef tongue... and I am glad I have now.
In the interest of time I will review what the boy and I ate since I did not taste our friend's meals. We had:
Guacamole
Good! Simple! Not crammed with stuff that belongs in salsa, picante or pico de gallo. Just avocado whipped to its sexy personal creaminess and a hint of lime and salt.
Beef Tongue and Steak "Soft" Tacos
I loved both these tacos. They are the simple, real Mexican style taco with cilantro, a little onion and lime juice. The tongue was rich and moist; the steak flavorful. The tortillas are hand made, and I wonder if they are white corn because they tasted like corn, but were not the pale yellow of regular corn tortillas. They were delicious and light in any case.
Pork Tamale
Too dry and tasteless. Steaming these babies should keep them moist and flavorful, especially if they are not slipped out of their corn husk embrace until right before serving. I used to buy some from the guys in my old neighborhood in Chicago for $1. They would pull them steaming from the pockets of their coats, and I would unpeel the corn husk and nibble on moist tenderness while I waited in the snow for the train...that was good tamale.
Chile Relleno
Aiight. The poblano probably should have been charred a little more or blanched a little longer. It was a little too al dente and was still more hot than roasty rich spicy poblano-ey.Coctel de Camaron (small)
Bizarre and very huge. Especially for a small. It was layered cilantro, tomatoes, onions and shrimp in faintly lime scented watery stuff. The shrimp were the right firmness and tasted fresh; they just bored me. But perhaps it is my own fault for sharing this and not getting the ceviche...I was craving the crisp burst of lime marinated seafood and the floral dance of cilantro around firm flesh, but this was hardly the coctel. Though to be fair, the boy liked it and so do Bleue and hubby.
Beverages: A Tecate and a Modelo
The service left something to be desired. It was very busy and confused. Every table was filled, and we had four different people attending to us, but none of them seemed aware of the other. I have no idea whom we tipped at the end. Sadly all of us had eaten most of our supper before the boy's chile relleno even arrived. I am assuming the place is just having growing pains as they seem wildly popular, and this could explain some of the disappointing dishes as well as the haphazard service. Neither were bad per se, just nervously ill prepared. I wish them luck and may be back for another little kiss sometime in the future.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
No, they don't pay us
This morning, I received this message in my inbox from the proprietors of Bacon Salt reminding me that a gift of Bacon Salt is a gift of love! It's perfect for everyone on your gift list: no calories, no fat, vegetarian, kosher, and, the best part -- it makes everything taste like bacon!
From Bacon Salt HQ:
The holidays are rapidly approaching and buying gifts for all of your family members, friends, co-workers and acquaintances can be a challenge.
Here's a stocking stuffer that we know they'll all love - Bacon Salt. After all, is there anyone in your life doesn't love the taste of bacon (and if so, can you really count on their love)?
It may have been awhile since you bought Bacon Salt, so we just wanted to make you aware of some special holiday packages we're offering on our website for last minute shoppers, stocking stuffers and holiday gifts. These include a "12 Days of Stocking Stuffers" package and an "8 Days of Kosher Bacon" package, and are perfect for all of the bacon-lovers in your life.
We hope you and yours have a happy, safe and delicious holiday season!
Justin and Dave
Bacontrepreneurs
passthebacon@baconsalt.com
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
A modest celebration with Kevin
Last night, my boy and I had a lot to celebrate, but as one of the things we were celebrating was the fact that we are likely buying a house that is slightly more expensive than we can comfortably afford, we were torn. The other thing we were celebrating was me receiving an offer for my dream job today -- a huge, huge deal. What to do?
So, we decided to cheap out on a fabulous place instead of heading to a loud, unwashed masses kind of place. First, we tried to eat at the bar at Shaun's -- everyone else raves about it, but the one time we went it wasn't that great. I'm hoping it was just an off night for them. Well, turns out that Shaun's is closed on Tuesdays, apparently, so we headed for Rathbun's, the original, one of our mainstays.
We chose to sit on the patio, rather than at the bar. Their patio is both covered and enclosed on the sides, so that it was quite comfortable in the balmy December weather even with the heaters off. It's also quite a bit quieter and less claustrophobic than the inside. Two thumbs up on the patio, Kevin!
We came with the intention of sharing small plates, but there are so many delicious and decadent things to choose from. What to have? We settled on:
First course: Garlic Fennel Soup -- this soup was creamy, flavorful with just a hint of fennel flavor (I am not a licorice person, so subtle fennel=good fennel in my book). Extremely delicious. We were soaking up every last drop with our bread.
Second course: Eggplant Steak Fries with Confectioner's Sugar Tabasco Dipping Sauce and Krog Street Mozzarella with Hot Cotto and Black Olive Vinaigrette. We had one order of each of these. The eggplant fries were divine, as usual. These fries never fail to make the boy say "But I don't like eggplant!" The dipping sauce sounds scary, but the combination of the sweet spiciness and the crisp eggplant is genius. The server had the kitchen split the cheese dish into two portions which were beautifully plated. The cotto (which is sort of like salami) was a nice complex, not-too-spicy flavor that complemented the mild, creamy mozzarella well, and the black olive vinaigrette pulled it all together by adding a little moisture to both loosen up the cotto and hold it all together.
Third course: Dark Chocolate Flourless Cake with Coffee Ice Cream and Raspberries. This was beautifully presented, and quite tasty. Moist, not-too-rich. I only had a bite of it, but the boy, the sweets connoisseur in the family, was very happy.
Libations: A bottle of Vina Robles, Syrah, Paso Robles, California ‘03. This wine was in the cheapest category of reds on the menu, but it was utterly respectable, especially once it opened up and lost its tartness. Luckily, it dropped the tart note while we were eating the creamy, creamy soup, which stood up to the wine just fine in its pre-mellowing moments.
Initially, I wasn't sure if what we had ordered was going to be enough food, but we were thoroughly satisfied, and even left 3 or 4 eggplant fries orphaned on the plate. We were also very pleasantly surprised by how inexpensively we were able to have such a satisfying, delicious meal with such wonderful service and atmosphere. The bill came to about $55; so for under $70 (including tips for the server and the valet), we achieved our celebratory goal at one of our favorite restaurants in town. I think we've spent more at the Vortex before. Wow! Thanks, Kev.
So, we decided to cheap out on a fabulous place instead of heading to a loud, unwashed masses kind of place. First, we tried to eat at the bar at Shaun's -- everyone else raves about it, but the one time we went it wasn't that great. I'm hoping it was just an off night for them. Well, turns out that Shaun's is closed on Tuesdays, apparently, so we headed for Rathbun's, the original, one of our mainstays.
We chose to sit on the patio, rather than at the bar. Their patio is both covered and enclosed on the sides, so that it was quite comfortable in the balmy December weather even with the heaters off. It's also quite a bit quieter and less claustrophobic than the inside. Two thumbs up on the patio, Kevin!
We came with the intention of sharing small plates, but there are so many delicious and decadent things to choose from. What to have? We settled on:
First course: Garlic Fennel Soup -- this soup was creamy, flavorful with just a hint of fennel flavor (I am not a licorice person, so subtle fennel=good fennel in my book). Extremely delicious. We were soaking up every last drop with our bread.
Second course: Eggplant Steak Fries with Confectioner's Sugar Tabasco Dipping Sauce and Krog Street Mozzarella with Hot Cotto and Black Olive Vinaigrette. We had one order of each of these. The eggplant fries were divine, as usual. These fries never fail to make the boy say "But I don't like eggplant!" The dipping sauce sounds scary, but the combination of the sweet spiciness and the crisp eggplant is genius. The server had the kitchen split the cheese dish into two portions which were beautifully plated. The cotto (which is sort of like salami) was a nice complex, not-too-spicy flavor that complemented the mild, creamy mozzarella well, and the black olive vinaigrette pulled it all together by adding a little moisture to both loosen up the cotto and hold it all together.
Third course: Dark Chocolate Flourless Cake with Coffee Ice Cream and Raspberries. This was beautifully presented, and quite tasty. Moist, not-too-rich. I only had a bite of it, but the boy, the sweets connoisseur in the family, was very happy.
Libations: A bottle of Vina Robles, Syrah, Paso Robles, California ‘03. This wine was in the cheapest category of reds on the menu, but it was utterly respectable, especially once it opened up and lost its tartness. Luckily, it dropped the tart note while we were eating the creamy, creamy soup, which stood up to the wine just fine in its pre-mellowing moments.
Initially, I wasn't sure if what we had ordered was going to be enough food, but we were thoroughly satisfied, and even left 3 or 4 eggplant fries orphaned on the plate. We were also very pleasantly surprised by how inexpensively we were able to have such a satisfying, delicious meal with such wonderful service and atmosphere. The bill came to about $55; so for under $70 (including tips for the server and the valet), we achieved our celebratory goal at one of our favorite restaurants in town. I think we've spent more at the Vortex before. Wow! Thanks, Kev.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Green and Sprightly
Well perhaps inappropriate in what should be the cool weather of December, coddled and comforted by thick meaty stews, chowders and creams...the celery soup I made yesterday and ate today was green, light, and sprightly. The recipe was a surprising riff on celery soup, and I've made more than a few. I found this illuminating. And served with one of the best canned dolmades I have ever had.The dolmades were Aegean Brand, I think we bought them oddly enough in the Blue ridge mountains at an apple orchard. They are much better than the canned variety sold at the Farmer's market, and the fresh versions at fancypants intown Krogers (yes a bit of bitterness sensed there) and Whole foods.
The soup was very easy to make:2-3 small Potatoes, chopped
1 bunch Celery, chopped
1 Onion, chopped
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 tablespoon Curry Powder
1 tablespoon fresh Ginger, chopped
1 teaspoon Cayenne Pepper
1/2 Chilipepper
1 1/2 quarts Broth (chicken, veggie or bouillon)
Salt -- Pepper
3/4 of a fresh Lemon
2 tablespoons Butter
Saute the onion and potatoes in the butter, add the seasonings. Stir well till soft. Add celery and everything else up to salt--pepper. Simmer, covered for 30 minutes. Carefully puree warm soup. Finish by squeezing the 3/4s of lemon over soup and mix in the butter. Serve.
Sunday, December 9, 2007
Feels Good:Inside and Out
Today was a nice day. It's been a while since I have been able to get back in the yard and do what I need to do. With today's beautiful balmy weather...for December...I was able to go out, turn the compost pile, pull all the old plants out of the vegetable garden, compost it and pull a nice warm blanket of leaves and mulch over it for the winter's rest. The garden surprised me with a last gasp harvest of chives, sweet potatoes, green peppers, arugala and jalapenos. Interesting, as I haven't watered it in months, and goodness knows I haven't tended it, thinking it was "done" for the season. In any case, Otto the pitbull hung out with me in the yard all morning, and we both came in happy, tired and sweaty in that "yard labor earthy" way that is so satisfying.I cooked up a storm this weekend as well, but I will tell that story piecemeal. Right now I want to talk about the banana bread I made for breakfast and the empanadas (photo) I made for dinner.
The Banana Bread
I am not a fan of banana bread. I prefer non-sweet items in the morning and as you know, usually make savory items, even with bananas, such as my banana soup...when I have overripe bananas to deal with. Today I decided I would do the bread thing. Well, I came up with a highly successful, low fat, low calorie, moist result. I honestly could care less. It was almost too rich for me, but the boy raved, and I am sure others who like this sort of food would really love this recipe. Here goes:
INGREDIENTS
1/4 cup white sugar
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 cup butter & 1/2 cup applesauce
1/4 cup white sugar
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 cup butter & 1/2 cup applesauce
1 1/2 cup sugar & 1 1/2 cup Splenda or Aspira (Generic Splenda)
3 eggs
6 very ripe bananas, mashed
1 (16 ounce) container reduced fat sour cream
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon salt
3 teaspoons baking soda
4 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup chopped walnuts (optional)
DIRECTIONS
Preheat oven to 300 degrees F (150 degrees C). Grease four 7x3 inch loaf pans ( I used 1 giant loaf pan and 1 giant muffin tin, having nothing else). In a small bowl, stir together 1/4 cup white sugar and 1 teaspoon cinnamon. Dust pans lightly with cinnamon and sugar mixture.
In a large bowl, cream butter, applesauce and sugar/splenda. Mix in eggs, mashed bananas, sour cream, vanilla and cinnamon. Mix in salt, baking soda and flour. Stir in nuts. Divide into prepared pans.
Bake for 1 hour, until a toothpick inserted in center comes out clean.
3 eggs
6 very ripe bananas, mashed
1 (16 ounce) container reduced fat sour cream
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon salt
3 teaspoons baking soda
4 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup chopped walnuts (optional)
DIRECTIONS
Preheat oven to 300 degrees F (150 degrees C). Grease four 7x3 inch loaf pans ( I used 1 giant loaf pan and 1 giant muffin tin, having nothing else). In a small bowl, stir together 1/4 cup white sugar and 1 teaspoon cinnamon. Dust pans lightly with cinnamon and sugar mixture.
In a large bowl, cream butter, applesauce and sugar/splenda. Mix in eggs, mashed bananas, sour cream, vanilla and cinnamon. Mix in salt, baking soda and flour. Stir in nuts. Divide into prepared pans.
Bake for 1 hour, until a toothpick inserted in center comes out clean.
The Empanadas
It occurred to me in retrospect that empanadas have always been part of my history, and it is bizarre that I would try to make them now. Bizarre, yet timely. You see, we have always had Christmas dinner at my parents' house in Cleveland my whole life. Christmas consisted of some 30+ extended family members, children and the Torres family. The Torres, Dr and Mrs., shared a duplex with my parents when all four of them were young married couples. Ever since then, having no stateside family, the Torres spent Christmas with our family. My parents had three daughters who practically mirrored their two boys and one girl. My parents kids grew up to be a lawyer, doctor and an advertising professional...so did their three kids...Weird huh? In any case...Every Christmas, Mrs. Torres always made empanadas for Christmas dinner. This was the only time of the year we had them. And we always fought over their exotic richness. The hints of latin american spices, the combination of the sugary sweet crust, the light dough, and the savory filling. Getting an empanada for breakfast, the day after Christmas, was an honor like no other. That is, if there were any leftovers.
Last year was the last Christmas at my parents' house. The little ones who sat at the kids table are all in their thirties and have children of their own, so my mother has passed our tradition on to my oldest sister who welcomes it with much enthusiasm. I look forward to our first Christmas in Charlotte this year...and we start there with 15 people for five days...so that should be interesting. But I also realize, I will probably never have Mrs. Torres empanadas again, and possibly may never see the family I have known for the past, ahem, 30 something years.. This makes me overwhelmingly sad, but is probably why I decided to try and make these now, two weeks before Christmas, for the very first time ever. I am happy and proud to report they were wonderful. They did not taste like Mrs. Torres', but they taste like Aunt Ree's (Me).
Black Bean, Sausage and Cheese Empanadas
12 oz. ground spicy Italian (or chorizo) (turkey , pork or vegetarian) sausage in a tube
1 small onion, chopped
1 15 oz can of black beans
3/4 cup grated jalapeno jack cheese
3 tablespoons fresh cilantro chopped
1 15oz package pre-made pie crusts (soft, from the canned biscuit section)
1 egg, beaten
1/8 cup sugar
I cooked the turkey sausage on the foreman grill and set it aside. Saute the onion for a few minutes till soft and add the can of beans, and the bean liquid. Cook over medium heat, stirring and mashing the beans a bit till the mixture is thick, about 10 minutes or so. Remove from heat and let it cool completely.
Preheat oven to 400. Take two shallow baking sheets and spray with nonstick or grease.
Grate your cheese and chop cilantro. Mix both into the cooled sausage mixture.
On a lightly floured surface, roll out one of the crust circles as thin as you can. Using a 4 1/2 inch bowl (standard small soup bowl) press out circles on the dough. Between the two crusts in the package you should be able to get at least 12-18 circles.
Place about a heaping tablespoon of mixture onto each circle. moisten the inner edge of the circles with water and fold over half of the circle to make a crescent. Press gently to seal. Use a fork to crimp edge of seal. Place on prepared cookie sheet. After they are all done brush each with the beaten egg and sprinkle with the sugar. Bake for 20 minutes and let cool for 5. Eat!
It occurs to me, as the boy moaned and groaned while he ate both breakfast and dinner, that I made him feel good in his tummy, but also in his heart. I like to cook for him and others, as well as myself because for me, it is my gift. I love to please people. I love to make them happy and content and smiley. I remember eating those empanadas and being sooo smiley. I remember dozens or Christmas pasts...And I remember smiling in the garden this morning, smelling the air and gazing over at my Otto von rolling in the grass. Marveling at the worms squirming about as I got to "the black gold" of the compost pile and took it bucket by bucket to the veggie garden. I felt like today I smiled and gave smiles inside and out to me, to Sam, to the puppies, to the garden, to my memories. And I hope with this new recipe to Christmas family memories for years to come.
Tapping into the Simple
I have been to Highland Tap, hid away on Highland Avenue underneath the little strip containing Fontaines, Mitzi and Romano's and other's, for multiple reasons over the years. I have had family meals in the dining room, but mostly it has been the bar that has brought me in out of the light and into a very very dark cozy bar. You almost feel like you stumbled into a private club or something. And some of the patrons certainly act like it is a private club...The first time I came here I made a young little friend of mine try escargots for the first time; her recently post-vegetarian self was horrified and excited at how good snails could taste. The last time I was here, the escargots were ordered again, honestly, they always are. I'm reviewing this slightly from memory as I found my notes in the bottom of my purse from a month or so ago. I believe this time Belle Bleue and I were having a post shopping high drink/pre meeting friends at the bar bite. A perfect place to recover, and brings one's pulse back to normal after an exhilarating afternoon of sales and purchases. Bleue is great as she and I always order small plates and share it all.
To drink:
Me, a Pimms Cup, because this is also a place that has Pimms!
Bleue is a wino.
We nibbled on:
Escargot in puff pastry, scampi butter and crusted in asiago
I always order this, because it is (a) very rare to get escargot in puff pastry in this town and (b) rarer still to have cheese involved....and it really is sooo good, especially when you are picking the burny/crisp cheese off the edge of the escargot dish...mmm.
Shrimp & Lobster "Corn dogs" with House Honey Mustard
I had to order these simply because they sounded deliciously bizarre. They were both. And the seafood was surprisingly not over cooked; the batter was that luscious corn dog puffiness you forget about when you leave the world of cordogs and baloney around age 12...
Serrano Ham and Arugala Salad with Asparagus,
tomatoes, crispy potato croutons and aged sherry vinaigrette
We always order a salad of some sort to pretend to cancel out the other high calorie things we indulge, but it is also a way to calm and cleanse the palate and refresh the appetite. This particular choice was very nice, and if I remember correctly I adored the potato croutons.
Highland Tap is weird, I never seem to plan to go there, but sometimes just end up there. And each time, it is the perfect choice. I haven't talked about it here, but they are a steakhouse, and the steaks and sides are quite good as well. Great place for an illicit meeting, sexy date, break from the harsh cheeriness of the holidays or a steak without the steakhouse attitude and glitz so prevalent these days.
To drink:
Me, a Pimms Cup, because this is also a place that has Pimms!
Bleue is a wino.
We nibbled on:
Escargot in puff pastry, scampi butter and crusted in asiago
I always order this, because it is (a) very rare to get escargot in puff pastry in this town and (b) rarer still to have cheese involved....and it really is sooo good, especially when you are picking the burny/crisp cheese off the edge of the escargot dish...mmm.
Shrimp & Lobster "Corn dogs" with House Honey Mustard
I had to order these simply because they sounded deliciously bizarre. They were both. And the seafood was surprisingly not over cooked; the batter was that luscious corn dog puffiness you forget about when you leave the world of cordogs and baloney around age 12...
Serrano Ham and Arugala Salad with Asparagus,
tomatoes, crispy potato croutons and aged sherry vinaigrette
We always order a salad of some sort to pretend to cancel out the other high calorie things we indulge, but it is also a way to calm and cleanse the palate and refresh the appetite. This particular choice was very nice, and if I remember correctly I adored the potato croutons.
Highland Tap is weird, I never seem to plan to go there, but sometimes just end up there. And each time, it is the perfect choice. I haven't talked about it here, but they are a steakhouse, and the steaks and sides are quite good as well. Great place for an illicit meeting, sexy date, break from the harsh cheeriness of the holidays or a steak without the steakhouse attitude and glitz so prevalent these days.
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Che bella appetito Nino!
For la belle's b-day, she chose a special little place nestled amongst the peep shows and sex shops of Cheshire bridge...the old school Italian gem that is Nino's. Opened in 1968, it is Atlanta's oldest Italian restaurant.
I loved it. I do not think I have been in a restaurant in Atlanta that felt like it had hardy roots. Nino's reminded me of the Italian restaurants in Chicago. The decor was understated, if a bit out of style. The lights low. The paintings on the walls had age to them. There was no techno music playing, no model thin waitresses carrying minuscule portions on triangular trays...no "scene" to be spoken of. Now if you want Italian and scene, go to Pricci, the food is great and everyone wears Dolce & Gabbana..If you want food that is delicious, a comforting "part of the family" atmosphere, and a charming, well aged waiter who knows the difference between a chianti and a sangiovese and whether one goes better with the veal stuffed olives than the other....go to Nino's.
Our waiter was wonderful. I swear he made all three of us blush, and it wasn't because he was wearing the latest skin tight Diesel jeans...no, he was probably a 50ish gentleman about half my height, but he spoke of the specials as if he was making love to them. He squealed with delight as he put down our dishes in front of us, murmuring "bella! bella!" Could have been an act, but it felt good to us. When we asked about how they made the veal stuffed olives, he actually knew they were stuffed inside and out and said the breadcrumbs were from the very rolls on our table. He KNEW the food. Only once have a met a waiter so in love with and knowledgeable of his food, in New York's Rockefeller Center restaurant, The Sea Grill. (And I swear we had to warm him up before he would trust us with his knowledge and love for the menu! But when he did! Oh Boy!) I digress...we had:
Pre dinner cocktails: 2 vodka/1 gin martinis up, dirty with olives
Amuse bouche: tiny warm crostini with fresh tomato and herbs
These were perfect! Warm! Petit! Fresh...the best I have have. You could taste just the ingredients for their pure individual flavors.
First course:
Fried green olives stuffed with veal
These were amazing. So crisp, not a bit oily...the firm tang of the olive contrasting with the rich, moist veal...mmm I thought I had a recipe for these...Olive all'Ascolana...I found it and will have to try and make now...maybe for new years.
Main course:
Fish Special
Fresh Grouper in tomato broth
She cleaned the plate...a rarity for this ami.
Fettucine alla Michela
Fettuccine with fresh shrimp and scallops in a light Pernod and saffron cream sauce
Holy doodoo I liked this. It was not a ginormous portion...for pasta it was the most approachable of quantities. The creaminess was not heavy and rich. It was light, savory, transporting... and the saffron and Pernod gave it the most delicate escalation of flavor. The seafood was cooked perfectly: the shrimp firm and the scallops heart wrenchingly tender (and huge).
Vitello Saltimbocca
Veal sautéed in seasoned white wine sauce, fresh sage, topped with prosciutto di parma
Also a clean plate member...the birthday girl adored this, and I found it rather rich and delicious myself.
Dessert:
Cappucino, tiramisu and a special birthday trio of desserts, including the most wonderful, moist marzipan I have ever tasted. I didn't know they made it like that.
Wine:
A carafe of the house red, a Montipulciano.
Nino's was a surprising delight for me. A hidden gem. It just felt different than most restaurants in Atlanta. It wasn't all sparkly. I like sparkly, but I love different, interesting and charming. I had always heard of Alfredos...a mere stone's throw from Nino's, but will happily pass on by, sight unseen, for another table at Nino's.
I loved it. I do not think I have been in a restaurant in Atlanta that felt like it had hardy roots. Nino's reminded me of the Italian restaurants in Chicago. The decor was understated, if a bit out of style. The lights low. The paintings on the walls had age to them. There was no techno music playing, no model thin waitresses carrying minuscule portions on triangular trays...no "scene" to be spoken of. Now if you want Italian and scene, go to Pricci, the food is great and everyone wears Dolce & Gabbana..If you want food that is delicious, a comforting "part of the family" atmosphere, and a charming, well aged waiter who knows the difference between a chianti and a sangiovese and whether one goes better with the veal stuffed olives than the other....go to Nino's.
Our waiter was wonderful. I swear he made all three of us blush, and it wasn't because he was wearing the latest skin tight Diesel jeans...no, he was probably a 50ish gentleman about half my height, but he spoke of the specials as if he was making love to them. He squealed with delight as he put down our dishes in front of us, murmuring "bella! bella!" Could have been an act, but it felt good to us. When we asked about how they made the veal stuffed olives, he actually knew they were stuffed inside and out and said the breadcrumbs were from the very rolls on our table. He KNEW the food. Only once have a met a waiter so in love with and knowledgeable of his food, in New York's Rockefeller Center restaurant, The Sea Grill. (And I swear we had to warm him up before he would trust us with his knowledge and love for the menu! But when he did! Oh Boy!) I digress...we had:
Pre dinner cocktails: 2 vodka/1 gin martinis up, dirty with olives
Amuse bouche: tiny warm crostini with fresh tomato and herbs
These were perfect! Warm! Petit! Fresh...the best I have have. You could taste just the ingredients for their pure individual flavors.
First course:
Fried green olives stuffed with veal
These were amazing. So crisp, not a bit oily...the firm tang of the olive contrasting with the rich, moist veal...mmm I thought I had a recipe for these...Olive all'Ascolana...I found it and will have to try and make now...maybe for new years.
Main course:
Fish Special
Fresh Grouper in tomato broth
She cleaned the plate...a rarity for this ami.
Fettucine alla Michela
Fettuccine with fresh shrimp and scallops in a light Pernod and saffron cream sauce
Holy doodoo I liked this. It was not a ginormous portion...for pasta it was the most approachable of quantities. The creaminess was not heavy and rich. It was light, savory, transporting... and the saffron and Pernod gave it the most delicate escalation of flavor. The seafood was cooked perfectly: the shrimp firm and the scallops heart wrenchingly tender (and huge).
Vitello Saltimbocca
Veal sautéed in seasoned white wine sauce, fresh sage, topped with prosciutto di parma
Also a clean plate member...the birthday girl adored this, and I found it rather rich and delicious myself.
Dessert:
Cappucino, tiramisu and a special birthday trio of desserts, including the most wonderful, moist marzipan I have ever tasted. I didn't know they made it like that.
Wine:
A carafe of the house red, a Montipulciano.
Nino's was a surprising delight for me. A hidden gem. It just felt different than most restaurants in Atlanta. It wasn't all sparkly. I like sparkly, but I love different, interesting and charming. I had always heard of Alfredos...a mere stone's throw from Nino's, but will happily pass on by, sight unseen, for another table at Nino's.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Food Studio
I have so many things to write, but haven't had time to. I guess I will start with a birthday dinner for the boy and his parents as the preamble to our Thanksgiving gluttony. We chose the Food Studio located in King Plow Arts Center. We had early reservations and they were decidedly empty, but the service was ready and the ambiance was lovely. It was a little bit dark on entry...leaving us grasping for the nearby hand rail, but once seated, I felt kind of enveloped and warm. A fireplace flickered in a nearby hearth, casting shadows on the rough walls and aged industrial design...somehow it made the two story ceiling seem not so tall. The service included, to my delight, not only crumbers and gentlemen who pulled out chairs, but also upon seeing we all wore black, the waiter brought us black napkins instead of white ones!
While the boy's father, not accustomed to high falutin' dining, was a bit uneasy upon entry, he quickly assimilated and began an animated discussion about football with our waiter while we waited for the first course. He relaxed for the rest of the evening and I dare say enjoyed himself.
We had:
Amuse Bouche
Mini brie toasted cheese sandwiches
First Courses
Duck Confit Agnolotti with porcini mushrooms and truffle oil
This was rich and luscious, the broth was eagerly and unashamedly soaked up with bread
An Artisan Cheese Tasting
While this was nice, I was not wowed by any cheese.
Almond Dusted Foie Gras with roasted plums and sticky bread
This was also just nice. The lobes were large, but a bit too firm. The consensus was that we had had better. I don't think it came with plums, more like a fig cake, but I could be wrong. The little cake was good, but didn't seem to want to play with the foie gras. on the plate the items just seemed too big, there was no visual balance inviting you to pair the flavors.
Main Dishes were:
Roasted Monkfish with fennel, leeks, shitakes and a coconut-curry broth
I felt this was too bland and and the monkfish a bit overcooked. I am used to it melting in my mouth.
Atlantic Salmon with celery root puree, bok choy and soy ginger butter
The mother enjoyed this very much. She commented that the fish was perfectly cooked.
Braised Pork Belly with smoked gold potatoes,Tuscan kale and tomato vinaigrette
The boy moaned and groaned over it. I thought it was pretty good as well.
Maple Glazed chicken with chestnut-chorizo bread pudding and caramelized onion jus
The chicken was nice, but the bread pudding was the sort of dish I like...something that surprises and excites you. It was rich, spicy, firm and creamy all at the same time. Very good.
Dessert was:
Pressed Coffee
An assortment of mini creme brulees
Wine was:
A Cote de Rhone I can't remember the name, but we got it at the Farmer's market for $7 the next day!
We had a glass of sauternes with the foie gras as well. Still lovely.
Overall I think everyone really enjoyed themselves. The service was great, the atmosphere great, the food good, just not stellar. I just am okay with this place.Probably about three ***.
While the boy's father, not accustomed to high falutin' dining, was a bit uneasy upon entry, he quickly assimilated and began an animated discussion about football with our waiter while we waited for the first course. He relaxed for the rest of the evening and I dare say enjoyed himself.
We had:
Amuse Bouche
Mini brie toasted cheese sandwiches
First Courses
Duck Confit Agnolotti with porcini mushrooms and truffle oil
This was rich and luscious, the broth was eagerly and unashamedly soaked up with bread
An Artisan Cheese Tasting
While this was nice, I was not wowed by any cheese.
Almond Dusted Foie Gras with roasted plums and sticky bread
This was also just nice. The lobes were large, but a bit too firm. The consensus was that we had had better. I don't think it came with plums, more like a fig cake, but I could be wrong. The little cake was good, but didn't seem to want to play with the foie gras. on the plate the items just seemed too big, there was no visual balance inviting you to pair the flavors.
Main Dishes were:
Roasted Monkfish with fennel, leeks, shitakes and a coconut-curry broth
I felt this was too bland and and the monkfish a bit overcooked. I am used to it melting in my mouth.
Atlantic Salmon with celery root puree, bok choy and soy ginger butter
The mother enjoyed this very much. She commented that the fish was perfectly cooked.
Braised Pork Belly with smoked gold potatoes,Tuscan kale and tomato vinaigrette
The boy moaned and groaned over it. I thought it was pretty good as well.
Maple Glazed chicken with chestnut-chorizo bread pudding and caramelized onion jus
The chicken was nice, but the bread pudding was the sort of dish I like...something that surprises and excites you. It was rich, spicy, firm and creamy all at the same time. Very good.
Dessert was:
Pressed Coffee
An assortment of mini creme brulees
Wine was:
A Cote de Rhone I can't remember the name, but we got it at the Farmer's market for $7 the next day!
We had a glass of sauternes with the foie gras as well. Still lovely.
Overall I think everyone really enjoyed themselves. The service was great, the atmosphere great, the food good, just not stellar. I just am okay with this place.Probably about three ***.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Zen and the Art of Cooking
I am a member of the Unitarian Universalist Congregation of Atlanta and I had the pleasure to write and deliver this reflection as part of our worship service this morning. Eventually there will be a podcast and audio here.
Julia Child noted in her delicious memoir My Life in France that she often encountered many a sophisticated American who was too busy to spend his or her precious time preparing food only to have the fruits of this labor devoured within moments. "How quaint," I imagine them saying to all 6'2" of her as they witnessed her sweating over the groundbreaking Mastering the Art of French Cooking. Of them Julia said, "Noncooks think it's silly to invest two hours' work in two minutes' enjoyment; but if cooking is evanescent, well, so is the ballet."
Julia Child knew the power of preparing a good meal by hand. When I cook, this power flows through me in waves like the spiritual energy I feel in my body during meditation. Well, not just LIKE the energy of meditation. For me, cooking is meditation. When I'm cooking, I breathe in peace and I breathe out love. It is, in a lot of ways, easier to let go of the noise in my bustling brain when I'm guiding an 8-inch-long, razor-sharp, forged piece of steel millimeters from my knuckles; when I'm carefully trying to flip a delicate fillet of fish; or when I'm watching for the exact moment when the broccoli turns that perfect shade of brilliant green. When I'm cooking, my mind, body and heart are one, like the Holy Trinity. The idea, the flesh and the spirit. I breathe, chop and season my love into even the simplest of dishes. I remember and fully experience the fact that I -- my true self -- am not just a brain-in-a-jar. (I think that this is an important reminder for UUs everywhere.)
Cooking is also teaching me two important lessons. First, releasing my ego; that is, letting go of the importance of the judgments I place on myself based on my perceptions of how others view me. Parker Palmer writes in his book Let Your Life Speak that he once heard Dorothy Day say this: "Do not give to the poor expecting to get their gratitude so that you can feel good about yourself...Give only if you have something you must give; give only if you are someone for whom giving is its own reward." Or to paraphrase for my purposes, "Cook only if you are someone for whom cooking is its own reward." Palmer goes on to write "When I give something that I do not possess, I give a false and dangerous gift, a gift that looks like love but is, in reality, loveless -- a gift given more from my need to prove myself than from the other's need to be cared for."
The action and all I receive from it are the rewards, not the outcome. When I cook my love into a dish, it is a gift that I need to give, not a hollow, needy cry for attention, compliments or thanks. I love to hear them, of course, and I even enjoy constructive criticism, but, you see, this is why my grandmother (and grandmothers everywhere) insisted, when I entered her home, that she make me a plate. No matter how recently I'd eaten lunch, how soon it was till dinner or the fact that her next sentence often was "Honey, you sure look like you've put on a few pounds."
"Yeah, thanks for the pie, Grandma."
The thanks aren't the point. If it were about the pay-off, cooking wouldn't be worth it because sometimes the potatoes are too salty, the yeast doesn't rise, the sauce is too spicy, or the meal takes waaaay longer to cook than I was expecting. Sometimes I intuitively know the exact instant that I put too much pepper in the soup, but that way has closed. I can't take it back. I have to accept that too much pepper is now a part of my soup and move on. Sometimes I can make it better, but whether the end result is delicious or we end up ordering take out, the response of others to my products does not dictate the quality of the way I cooked my life that day. It does not diminish what I got out of the act of mindfully preparing the food: the peace I breathed in and the love I breathed out.
This leads me to the second -- and the hardest -- lesson cooking is teaching me: I have to set aside some of that love I'm breathing out for myself. Through cooking my life, I suddenly realized not long ago why, for all these years, food prepared for me by someone else always tasted so much better than when I made it myself. In restaurants, of course, it's the butter. But in the case of my grandma's enchiladas, my dad's grilled cheese, my mom's lasagna, it's because I couldn't, wouldn't taste my own love when I replicated these dishes. This awareness shattered a kind of glass ceiling in my spirit that is slowly, slowly letting me become generous, gentle and loving with myself. Bite by bite, I'm learning to taste not just a pale shadow, a remembrance of my Great Grandmother's love when I recreate the warm blackberry cobbler she made for me as a child. I'm learning to open up my awareness to taste the vast ocean of love that generations of mothers and fathers have passed on -- the love that is now MY love. I'm working on keeping just a little, sweet, savory bit of it for myself.
The beautiful thing about cooking, too, is that you don't have to be a child-prodigy-raised-in-ballerina-boot-camp to do it. Julia Child didn't learn to cook until she was nearly 40. You also don't have to stage a full-blown production of Swan Lake to give this gift: while I advocate fresh, sustainably grown, seasonal food, you can breathe as much love into a box of macaroni and cheese as you can into your annual Thanksgiving blowout if only you feel the love flowing through your mind, body and heart, the holy trinity of your true self.
Julia Child noted in her delicious memoir My Life in France that she often encountered many a sophisticated American who was too busy to spend his or her precious time preparing food only to have the fruits of this labor devoured within moments. "How quaint," I imagine them saying to all 6'2" of her as they witnessed her sweating over the groundbreaking Mastering the Art of French Cooking. Of them Julia said, "Noncooks think it's silly to invest two hours' work in two minutes' enjoyment; but if cooking is evanescent, well, so is the ballet."
Julia Child knew the power of preparing a good meal by hand. When I cook, this power flows through me in waves like the spiritual energy I feel in my body during meditation. Well, not just LIKE the energy of meditation. For me, cooking is meditation. When I'm cooking, I breathe in peace and I breathe out love. It is, in a lot of ways, easier to let go of the noise in my bustling brain when I'm guiding an 8-inch-long, razor-sharp, forged piece of steel millimeters from my knuckles; when I'm carefully trying to flip a delicate fillet of fish; or when I'm watching for the exact moment when the broccoli turns that perfect shade of brilliant green. When I'm cooking, my mind, body and heart are one, like the Holy Trinity. The idea, the flesh and the spirit. I breathe, chop and season my love into even the simplest of dishes. I remember and fully experience the fact that I -- my true self -- am not just a brain-in-a-jar. (I think that this is an important reminder for UUs everywhere.)
Cooking is also teaching me two important lessons. First, releasing my ego; that is, letting go of the importance of the judgments I place on myself based on my perceptions of how others view me. Parker Palmer writes in his book Let Your Life Speak that he once heard Dorothy Day say this: "Do not give to the poor expecting to get their gratitude so that you can feel good about yourself...Give only if you have something you must give; give only if you are someone for whom giving is its own reward." Or to paraphrase for my purposes, "Cook only if you are someone for whom cooking is its own reward." Palmer goes on to write "When I give something that I do not possess, I give a false and dangerous gift, a gift that looks like love but is, in reality, loveless -- a gift given more from my need to prove myself than from the other's need to be cared for."
The action and all I receive from it are the rewards, not the outcome. When I cook my love into a dish, it is a gift that I need to give, not a hollow, needy cry for attention, compliments or thanks. I love to hear them, of course, and I even enjoy constructive criticism, but, you see, this is why my grandmother (and grandmothers everywhere) insisted, when I entered her home, that she make me a plate. No matter how recently I'd eaten lunch, how soon it was till dinner or the fact that her next sentence often was "Honey, you sure look like you've put on a few pounds."
"Yeah, thanks for the pie, Grandma."
The thanks aren't the point. If it were about the pay-off, cooking wouldn't be worth it because sometimes the potatoes are too salty, the yeast doesn't rise, the sauce is too spicy, or the meal takes waaaay longer to cook than I was expecting. Sometimes I intuitively know the exact instant that I put too much pepper in the soup, but that way has closed. I can't take it back. I have to accept that too much pepper is now a part of my soup and move on. Sometimes I can make it better, but whether the end result is delicious or we end up ordering take out, the response of others to my products does not dictate the quality of the way I cooked my life that day. It does not diminish what I got out of the act of mindfully preparing the food: the peace I breathed in and the love I breathed out.
This leads me to the second -- and the hardest -- lesson cooking is teaching me: I have to set aside some of that love I'm breathing out for myself. Through cooking my life, I suddenly realized not long ago why, for all these years, food prepared for me by someone else always tasted so much better than when I made it myself. In restaurants, of course, it's the butter. But in the case of my grandma's enchiladas, my dad's grilled cheese, my mom's lasagna, it's because I couldn't, wouldn't taste my own love when I replicated these dishes. This awareness shattered a kind of glass ceiling in my spirit that is slowly, slowly letting me become generous, gentle and loving with myself. Bite by bite, I'm learning to taste not just a pale shadow, a remembrance of my Great Grandmother's love when I recreate the warm blackberry cobbler she made for me as a child. I'm learning to open up my awareness to taste the vast ocean of love that generations of mothers and fathers have passed on -- the love that is now MY love. I'm working on keeping just a little, sweet, savory bit of it for myself.
The beautiful thing about cooking, too, is that you don't have to be a child-prodigy-raised-in-ballerina-boot-camp to do it. Julia Child didn't learn to cook until she was nearly 40. You also don't have to stage a full-blown production of Swan Lake to give this gift: while I advocate fresh, sustainably grown, seasonal food, you can breathe as much love into a box of macaroni and cheese as you can into your annual Thanksgiving blowout if only you feel the love flowing through your mind, body and heart, the holy trinity of your true self.
Friday, November 23, 2007
Thanksgiving: No Knead Bread rising to new heights and "Oh, the squash is IN the mac and cheese?!?"
Thanksgiving is my second favorite holiday after my birthday, which is not yet recognized by the federal government, so I guess Thanksgiving is my favorite bank holiday. The getting together with family, the celebration of all that we have to be grateful for, the food... We should have Thanksgiving every month, I think.
This year, we went to my sister-in-law's house in the wilds of the exurbs, Cumming, Georgia, a place where people only choose to live if they either work somewhat north of Atlanta or value shoddily constructed megasubdivisions more than hours that could be spent with their families instead of in the car. I imagine there are also some folks who have lived there since the pre-sprawl era when it was actually a separate town, but every time we make it up there there's another strip mall, so I imagine the rows of corn and the livestock will be replaced by Starbucks and 5,000 square foot homes "From the high 300s" soon enough.
My in-laws are in the former category, happily, and their home, though it looks pretty much the same as all the others on the street, is really quite lovely. Not lovely enough to convince me that in-town living isn't the way to go, but it's certainly a better venue for Thanksgiving for 15 than our "cozy" 1,200 square foot, 1 bathroom place.
I "helpfully" volunteered Alton Brown's turkey how-to from the 2003 Thanksgiving issue of Bon Appetit which last year yielded the most delicious, juicy turkey I've ever eaten. Happily, my sister-in-law, who at age 32 had to consult Dr. Google to find out what the "self-clean" function on her oven did, accepted the gospel and ran with it. Down to even accepting the difficult verse: "Stuffing is evil!" Much to the chagrin of a few in the kitchen, but to the delight of my, and soon the other guests', taste buds. It was truly a beautiful bird. The other side dishes were also deliciously and competently prepared from terrific recipes. We'll turn sister-in-law into Martha Stewart yet. :)
Sadly, this was my first Thanksgiving of all time without mashed potatoes, but the carbohydrates that I provided more than made up for that oversight. I think I can forgive her.
So, my contributions. La belle mangeuse and I have been obsessed with No Knead Bread, a genre of recipes tweaked in the last year after Mark Bittman introduced the world to the secret of making great bread at home over a year ago in his New York Times column. Its creator insisted that it is so easy to make a 4-year-old could do it, and Jaden over at SteamyKitchen.com proved it recently. So, I knew that this bread needed to grace the Thanksgiving table this year, and, intriguingly, the folks over at America's Test Kitchen had been toying with the recipe and put their "best" version of it in the January/February issue of Cook's Illustrated that arrived in my mailbox on Tuesday. Given my obsession with both the bread and the Test Kitchen, I knew I had to try it even though they did add a brief kneading step and some additional ingredients. For Thanksgiving and delicious bread, I can knead it 10 times. And any excuse to buy beer is a good one in my book. I adjusted their recipe slightly, but the basics are the same.
5. Combine pasta and cheese sauce in a large bowl, toss to coat evenly. Transfer mixture to an oven-safe dish. Mix remaining cup of cheese with 2 T melted butter and breadcrumbs to form topping. Sprinkle mixture evenly over the macaroni. Place macaroni under a low broiler until topping is nicely browned - about 2-4 minutes. Let stand 10 minutes before serving.
This year, we went to my sister-in-law's house in the wilds of the exurbs, Cumming, Georgia, a place where people only choose to live if they either work somewhat north of Atlanta or value shoddily constructed megasubdivisions more than hours that could be spent with their families instead of in the car. I imagine there are also some folks who have lived there since the pre-sprawl era when it was actually a separate town, but every time we make it up there there's another strip mall, so I imagine the rows of corn and the livestock will be replaced by Starbucks and 5,000 square foot homes "From the high 300s" soon enough.
My in-laws are in the former category, happily, and their home, though it looks pretty much the same as all the others on the street, is really quite lovely. Not lovely enough to convince me that in-town living isn't the way to go, but it's certainly a better venue for Thanksgiving for 15 than our "cozy" 1,200 square foot, 1 bathroom place.
I "helpfully" volunteered Alton Brown's turkey how-to from the 2003 Thanksgiving issue of Bon Appetit which last year yielded the most delicious, juicy turkey I've ever eaten. Happily, my sister-in-law, who at age 32 had to consult Dr. Google to find out what the "self-clean" function on her oven did, accepted the gospel and ran with it. Down to even accepting the difficult verse: "Stuffing is evil!" Much to the chagrin of a few in the kitchen, but to the delight of my, and soon the other guests', taste buds. It was truly a beautiful bird. The other side dishes were also deliciously and competently prepared from terrific recipes. We'll turn sister-in-law into Martha Stewart yet. :)
Sadly, this was my first Thanksgiving of all time without mashed potatoes, but the carbohydrates that I provided more than made up for that oversight. I think I can forgive her.
So, my contributions. La belle mangeuse and I have been obsessed with No Knead Bread, a genre of recipes tweaked in the last year after Mark Bittman introduced the world to the secret of making great bread at home over a year ago in his New York Times column. Its creator insisted that it is so easy to make a 4-year-old could do it, and Jaden over at SteamyKitchen.com proved it recently. So, I knew that this bread needed to grace the Thanksgiving table this year, and, intriguingly, the folks over at America's Test Kitchen had been toying with the recipe and put their "best" version of it in the January/February issue of Cook's Illustrated that arrived in my mailbox on Tuesday. Given my obsession with both the bread and the Test Kitchen, I knew I had to try it even though they did add a brief kneading step and some additional ingredients. For Thanksgiving and delicious bread, I can knead it 10 times. And any excuse to buy beer is a good one in my book. I adjusted their recipe slightly, but the basics are the same.
Nearly No-Knead Bread
Makes 1 large round loaf (two were plenty for 14 folks)
3 c bread flour
1/4 t instant dry yeast (the "Rapid Rise" kind)
1 1/2 t kosher salt or sea salt
3/4 c plus 2 T water (that's 7 ounces)
1/4 c plus 2 T mild-flavored lager (I used Amstel Light)
1 T white vinegar
For whole wheat variation: Replace 1 cup of the flour with whole wheat flour and add 2 T of honey.
1. Mix all the ingredients in a bowl with a wooden spoon or rubber spatula 
until a shaggy, messy dough forms. Cover with plastic wrap. At this point, I advocate drinking the 9 ounces of beer that you have left. Let the bread sit on your counter for 8 to 18 hours. The blue bowl is white and the green one is wheat just after being mixed.
until a shaggy, messy dough forms. Cover with plastic wrap. At this point, I advocate drinking the 9 ounces of beer that you have left. Let the bread sit on your counter for 8 to 18 hours. The blue bowl is white and the green one is wheat just after being mixed.2. Put a piece of parchment paper inside a 10 inch skillet and spray the paper lightly with oil. Flour your work surface (I like to use a big tray instead of the counter because it's easier to clean up), wet your hands and dump the dough out on the work area. 
Knead 10 times, rewetting your hands if necessary. By "knead" I mean to smush the bread with the heels of your hands, then fold it over on itself to get it back to its original size. Kneading helps to develop the gluten, long stringy chains of goo that will make the bread chewy. While part of the appeal of this bread is the no kneading aspect, 10 times didn't even make me break a sweat. I can handle this. Pull the edges of the dough into the middle to form a ball and lay it seam-side-down on the parchment paper. Lightly spray the top of the bread with oil and cover it loosely with plastic wrap for a two-hour nap on the counter.
Knead 10 times, rewetting your hands if necessary. By "knead" I mean to smush the bread with the heels of your hands, then fold it over on itself to get it back to its original size. Kneading helps to develop the gluten, long stringy chains of goo that will make the bread chewy. While part of the appeal of this bread is the no kneading aspect, 10 times didn't even make me break a sweat. I can handle this. Pull the edges of the dough into the middle to form a ball and lay it seam-side-down on the parchment paper. Lightly spray the top of the bread with oil and cover it loosely with plastic wrap for a two-hour nap on the counter.
3. With about 30 minutes left in the dough's beauty nap, adjust the oven rack to its lowest position, put in a large oven-safe pot with a lid and preheat the oven to 500. I use my 8 quart stainless pot. In a pinch (when baking 2 loaves at once), I've used my 3 quart casserole and it worked fine, though all the recipes say to use a bigger pot. If you're lucky enough to have a beautiful enameled dutch oven (which I don't), that would be just perfect too.
4. When it's time to wake the dough, remove the plastic wrap, lightly flour the top of the dough, spray a sharp knife with oil and make a 6 inch long, 1/2 inch deep slit in the surface of the dough. Carefully remove the screaming hot pot from the oven and, using the parchment paper as a sling, put the dough in the pot and cover it. You should hear sizzling when the dough hits the pan. Mmmm...crusty. Return the pot to the oven and reduce the heat to 425. Bake covered for 30 minutes.
5. Remove the lid and bake uncovered for another 20-30 minutes until the crust is deep brown and the internal temperature of the bread reaches 210. I usually go by look and sound (the dough will sound like a hollow drum when you tap on it), but it's a good idea to use a thermometer if you're baking more than one loaf at a time. When I made the T-day bread, it was only to about 204 after 30 minutes uncovered, so I baked it an additional few minutes until it reached the proper temp. Carefully remove from the oven, and place the bread on a wire rack to cool for at least 10 minutes before you slice it.
The verdict? I think the small amount of kneading and the beer is worth it. It's just as easy as the truly no-knead recipes, and it tastes even better. That there is a beautiful loaf of bread.
My second contribution was butternut squash macaroni and cheese, a recipe that is widely renowned among a group of imaginary internet friends of mine that I adapted and, I think, took to new heights yesterday.
When I told my sister-in-law I was making butternut squash mac 'n' cheese, she assumed that it was 2 separate dishes, despite the fact that she knows I have a superior command of punctuation. It's not. And despite the Boy's protestations over my adulteration of macaroni and cheese with a vegetable, it is one dish full of cheesy, savory deliciousness that ultimately won him over. Mac 'n' cheese for grown-ups, though the kids really liked it too. Everyone wanted the recipe, and I, unfortunately, forgot to take a photo before it was almost entirely devoured (and then we ate the small amount that was left for breakfast this morning). I'm thinking of trying this with canned pumpkin in place of the squash to see if it could be a reasonable weeknight creation.
Ms. Saveur's Yes, the Squash Is in the Mac 'n' Cheese
Makes a very full 13" x 9" dish: can be halved successfully, but it makes really wonderful leftovers so why bother?
1 large butternut squash, cut in half lengthwise and seeded
1 lb gruyere, shredded (about 4 cups)
1 lb macaroni of your choice (I used cavatappi, which are like little 1-inch spirals. The traditional elbow would be just fine, but Your Dekalb Farmer's Market didn't have any. I liked the grown-upness of the cavatappi.)
Nonstick spray (I use grapeseed oil in a pump-action mister)
1/4 c butter (1/2 stick) plus 2 T for the topping
1/2 c flour
2 c milk
1 T dijon mustard
1 3/4 c chicken or vegetable stock
1 c breadcrumbs (I threw 1 big wheat sandwich roll we had in the bread box into the food processor, and it yielded slightly more than a cup of crumbs. I used all of it, and I think that the fresh crumbs were superior to packaged ones. No need to toast first because the topping gets browned under the broiler at the end.)
salt
pepper
cayenne
nutmeg
1. Preheat the oven to 350. Spray the squash and a rimmed baking sheet with oil, sprinkle with salt, pepper and a pinch of nutmeg, and place the squash cut-side-down on the sheet. Roast for 50-60 minutes until it looks pretty squishy and the skin wrinkles up. Set aside.
2. Cook the macaroni according to the package directions in heavily salted water. The water should taste flavored, but not salty. This is probably a lot more salt than you usually put in your pasta water, but your macaroni are going to suck up this water: you want it to taste good. Disclosure: I usually put in a good shake of bouillon to flavor the pasta water. It makes a big difference in the flavor of the pasta. In a good way. Drain the macaroni, and set it aside.
3. Peel the skin off the squash and mash it with salt, pepper and another pinch of nutmeg.
4. Melt 1/4 c butter in a large saucepan and slowly stir in 1/2 c flour to form a paste. Off heat, SLOWLY whisk in 2 cups of milk. Return to medium low heat until the sauce fully blends and thickens. SLOWLY whisk in the mashed squash, wait for sauce to thicken again. Add mustard and a large pinch each of salt, pepper, nutmeg and cayenne. Stir in 3 cups of cheese (set aside 1 cup for the topping) and 1 3/4 cups of stock, alternating cheese and stock by cupfuls. Stir slowly and taste sauce frequently until it warms up and the cheese melts smoothly. Adjust seasonings -- it should taste slightly spicier than you want the finished dish to taste because the spice will get diffused when you combine with the macaroni.
5. Combine pasta and cheese sauce in a large bowl, toss to coat evenly. Transfer mixture to an oven-safe dish. Mix remaining cup of cheese with 2 T melted butter and breadcrumbs to form topping. Sprinkle mixture evenly over the macaroni. Place macaroni under a low broiler until topping is nicely browned - about 2-4 minutes. Let stand 10 minutes before serving.
Notes on traveling with this dish: Don't broil before you leave the house if your destination will have an oven. Cover the dish with foil and a lid (if your baking dish has one). Warm the dish covered with foil for 15-20 minutes in a 350 degree oven (we just stuck it in there with the dressing), then remove the foil and broil for a few minutes to brown the topping.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Rustic Potato Leek Soup
After my folks were here for the weekend, I ended up with a leftover leek and some potatoes, so I decided to make soup. Incidentally, I always put leeks sauteed in butter in my mashed potatoes for special occasions. SO good.Anyway, my soup adventure started with cleaning and chopping the leek. This resulted in streams of tears running down my face. I have never before experienced leeks that made me cry like onions! See those pesky suckers above on the right. I made it through, but it was rough.
Once I had the offensive leek chopped, the rest of the soup came together brilliantly and relatively quickly. The leftovers also froze really well (don't add cream before you freeze). Leeks and potatoes are such a perfect couple...like Fred and Ginger or Bert and Ernie. I served with leftover No Knead Bread for a delightful light supper which we were able to eat out on our porch. Quite a nice cap to an otherwise blah Monday, though it just seems wrong that we can eat on our (unheated) porch in November.Rustic Potato Leek Soup
This recipe is the love-child of The New Best Recipe and Alice Water's The Art of Simple Food.
6 good sized servings
1 big leek or 2 small leeks, white and light green parts only, washed well and chopped
2T butter or extra virgin olive oil
2 sprigs of fresh thyme
1 bay leaf
1.5 lbs of potatoes, coarsely diced (I oppose peeling potatoes generally, but you can if you want)
5-6 c of broth or water
salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
optional: 1/3 c heavy cream or evaporated milk
Melt the butter over medium heat in a heavy-bottomed saucepan. Add the leeks, thyme and bay. Add a fair dusting of salt. Saute until the leeks soften, about 10 minutes. Add the potatoes, salt them and cook for about 4 minutes. Add the broth/water and bring it to a boil, then turn the heat down to a simmer. Cook until the potatoes are tender, but not quite mushy, about 30 minutes. Remove the bay leaf and the thyme sprigs. Using either an immersion blender in the pot or ladling the soup into a blender in batches, puree about half of the soup and return the puree to the pot. Stir in the cream if desired, taste the soup and add salt and pepper until it is just right. You can see in the photo that my soup had a little bit of pepper and red sea salt as a "garnish" (really, it was because I didn't put enough in the soup before I served it!)
Enjoy! This is especially good sopped up with delicious warm bread.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
A Hot Fuss
Last night the boy and I embarked on #2 of our opera series to see Hansel and Gretel. The production was just wonderful. It was a whimsical, new, refreshing, harmonious, surprising, and well priced evening of entertainment. Much like our second meal at Muss and Turners.
Well, I know for sure now, the place is not a one hit wonder. It was just as spectacular as the last time we were there. The staff was as friendly, just as helpful. Beer explorations were fun prior to sitting down to dinner. The cheese counter was enchanting. Our meal choices exciting.
As usual we over indulged, but this time our senses were only aided by wine in moderation rather than obliterated by gluttony. We had:
Wagyu Beef Tartare - Fresh, raw ground beef, capers, shallots, chives and mustard oil.
This was absolutely the best beef tartare I have ever had in my life. It sang in my mouth. So piquant. So lively. We swore it was laced with wasabi, but perhaps it was the mustard oil kicking the flavor into high gear. It was the boy's first beef tartare ever, and he declared it a permanent addition to things he like to eat. I was pleased that his "first" was so good. Gawd know that is rare... (heh heh)
Antipasto - Meditterranean Pasta Salad, Greenless Greek Salad, Shrimp Remoulade and Mushroom and Hobb's Smoked Bacon Salad
Pave Sauvage -French goat's milk cheese with peppercorns, tarragon and Black pepper truffle honey
I swear, this should be the year of the milk if there was a food zodiac. I have never had so many innovative, fresh, inspiring cheeses in one year! This one was so grassy and fresh while still creamy. And the truffle honey is going on my christmas wish list. It is SOOOO good with cheese.)
Hudson Valley Camembert - New York cow and sheeps milk cheese with fruit preserves
While this was very mellow, creamy and had the most delicate rind, the Pave still shone brighter. The HV soothed, the Pave swooned.
Grilled Lamb Tenderloin - Medium rare with local radish, celery root, frisee, house made bacon and red wine sauce
Perfectly prepared. The naturally herb flavor of the lamb danced gently with the earthy root vegetables. The frisee was a warm and interesting surprise. ( I love cooked and braised greens when done well.) The sauce was supremely dark and rich with almost a hint of coffee in its complexity, or bitter chocolate...a pleasant contrast to the grassy lamb and perfect for sopping up with Pommes Frites.
Muss and Turners is officially in our top three with Rathbuns and Shauns. It is different as it so much more casual, and has the added bonus of the deli. I wish only that I could (a) eat lunch there, and (b) buy cheeses and meat there. Alas we live too far away to partake on a regular basis. Though as we drove from M&T's to the opera, the boy and I found ourselves wondering how much it costs to live in that neighborhood...It think it is Vinings? Surely this could only have been inspired by the fantasy of living in close proximity to such a wonderful place. The neighborhood is a little too "new" for our tastes and erm...pocketbooks we surmise.
Again...Cold Sassy Tree as an opera in February...Muss and Turner's we will be back! And a good thing as the menu is seasonal!
Well, I know for sure now, the place is not a one hit wonder. It was just as spectacular as the last time we were there. The staff was as friendly, just as helpful. Beer explorations were fun prior to sitting down to dinner. The cheese counter was enchanting. Our meal choices exciting.
As usual we over indulged, but this time our senses were only aided by wine in moderation rather than obliterated by gluttony. We had:
Wagyu Beef Tartare - Fresh, raw ground beef, capers, shallots, chives and mustard oil.
This was absolutely the best beef tartare I have ever had in my life. It sang in my mouth. So piquant. So lively. We swore it was laced with wasabi, but perhaps it was the mustard oil kicking the flavor into high gear. It was the boy's first beef tartare ever, and he declared it a permanent addition to things he like to eat. I was pleased that his "first" was so good. Gawd know that is rare... (heh heh)
Antipasto - Meditterranean Pasta Salad, Greenless Greek Salad, Shrimp Remoulade and Mushroom and Hobb's Smoked Bacon Salad
Pave Sauvage -French goat's milk cheese with peppercorns, tarragon and Black pepper truffle honey
I swear, this should be the year of the milk if there was a food zodiac. I have never had so many innovative, fresh, inspiring cheeses in one year! This one was so grassy and fresh while still creamy. And the truffle honey is going on my christmas wish list. It is SOOOO good with cheese.)
Hudson Valley Camembert - New York cow and sheeps milk cheese with fruit preserves
While this was very mellow, creamy and had the most delicate rind, the Pave still shone brighter. The HV soothed, the Pave swooned.
Grilled Lamb Tenderloin - Medium rare with local radish, celery root, frisee, house made bacon and red wine sauce
Perfectly prepared. The naturally herb flavor of the lamb danced gently with the earthy root vegetables. The frisee was a warm and interesting surprise. ( I love cooked and braised greens when done well.) The sauce was supremely dark and rich with almost a hint of coffee in its complexity, or bitter chocolate...a pleasant contrast to the grassy lamb and perfect for sopping up with Pommes Frites.
Muss and Turners is officially in our top three with Rathbuns and Shauns. It is different as it so much more casual, and has the added bonus of the deli. I wish only that I could (a) eat lunch there, and (b) buy cheeses and meat there. Alas we live too far away to partake on a regular basis. Though as we drove from M&T's to the opera, the boy and I found ourselves wondering how much it costs to live in that neighborhood...It think it is Vinings? Surely this could only have been inspired by the fantasy of living in close proximity to such a wonderful place. The neighborhood is a little too "new" for our tastes and erm...pocketbooks we surmise.
Again...Cold Sassy Tree as an opera in February...Muss and Turner's we will be back! And a good thing as the menu is seasonal!
Love in Manchester's Arms...
I don't often venture this close to the Perimeter, or to the southside of town, but I met some girlfriends at the Manchester Arms pub for a weeknight dinner last night. I am now intensely envious that this place is in College Park.
The pub is housed in a really lovely converted Tudor house with a large patio nestled between a wooded area, a church and a residential neighborhood on Virginia Avenue. The atmosphere is as charming as the architechture (which includes a stunning arch-shaped entry door). I walked in to find a small bar, cozy tables and friendly, laid-back, attentive staff.
We were seated in the upstairs space which has exposed beams, but, somehow, feels cozy and not at all echoey. We ordered beers which came quickly (impressive considering how many times the poor server had to climb the stairs!), and then ordered fish and chips and the steak-and-Guinness pie. Our dishes arrived quickly, and they were hot and delicious. The fish was crisp on the outside with just the right proportion of breading to cod and not too greasy. The chips (i.e. fries) were also crisp on the outside, but soft and steamy on the inside. The fish needed a little salt for our taste, but it was perfect with a drizzle of malt vinegar. I haven't had fish and chips like this since I was in London.
I didn't try the steak-and-Guinness pie, but it looked and smelled amazing, and my companion's plate was nearly licked clean, so I think it was also excellent. We then ordered the bread pudding and the Guinness brownie, the two desserts our server reported are prepared on-premises. The bread pudding was decent. The Guinness brownie was transcendent. Soft, chocolatey, not-too-sweet. I'm not a sweets person, but this brownie is everything that a brownie should be and more. The kind of brownie that two bites is enough to satisfy because it's so rich and gooey and perfect. *drool*
Our server happily split our checks, and the meal was more than reasonably priced for the excellent service, the homey atmosphere and the high-quality food. I was skeptical about the experience I would have venturing down south, but I left with a happy belly full of delicious food and happy memories of a place that is ideal for a get-together with good friends. Even if it is nearly OTP. ;)
The pub is housed in a really lovely converted Tudor house with a large patio nestled between a wooded area, a church and a residential neighborhood on Virginia Avenue. The atmosphere is as charming as the architechture (which includes a stunning arch-shaped entry door). I walked in to find a small bar, cozy tables and friendly, laid-back, attentive staff.
We were seated in the upstairs space which has exposed beams, but, somehow, feels cozy and not at all echoey. We ordered beers which came quickly (impressive considering how many times the poor server had to climb the stairs!), and then ordered fish and chips and the steak-and-Guinness pie. Our dishes arrived quickly, and they were hot and delicious. The fish was crisp on the outside with just the right proportion of breading to cod and not too greasy. The chips (i.e. fries) were also crisp on the outside, but soft and steamy on the inside. The fish needed a little salt for our taste, but it was perfect with a drizzle of malt vinegar. I haven't had fish and chips like this since I was in London.
I didn't try the steak-and-Guinness pie, but it looked and smelled amazing, and my companion's plate was nearly licked clean, so I think it was also excellent. We then ordered the bread pudding and the Guinness brownie, the two desserts our server reported are prepared on-premises. The bread pudding was decent. The Guinness brownie was transcendent. Soft, chocolatey, not-too-sweet. I'm not a sweets person, but this brownie is everything that a brownie should be and more. The kind of brownie that two bites is enough to satisfy because it's so rich and gooey and perfect. *drool*
Our server happily split our checks, and the meal was more than reasonably priced for the excellent service, the homey atmosphere and the high-quality food. I was skeptical about the experience I would have venturing down south, but I left with a happy belly full of delicious food and happy memories of a place that is ideal for a get-together with good friends. Even if it is nearly OTP. ;)
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Free and Easy
So I was doing my shopping this weekend and my checkout gal turned out to be my neighbor. In neighborly fashion she pointed out to me that pumpkins were free if I wanted one. At first I hesitated, and the bag-girl said "I'll get it!" and so I decided why-not. I suppose I could do something with it. Keep in mind (a) I have already made no less than 8 pumpkin related dishes from canned pumpkin over the past two months. I was not sure how the boy would react to more pumpkin. (b) I had never tackled a raw pumpkin, and this one was of rotund waist. After a little bit of online research and a little bit of questioning from the boy, I began my free food journey with his critical eye hovering near. I decided to make pumpkin seeds and roast pumpkin flesh. Turns out both were pretty easy, but required a bit of perseverance and upper body strength.
Pumpkin Seeds
Preheat oven to 400. Then I cut open my pumpkin jack-o-lantern style and pulled the guts out, separating the guts from the seeds. I rinsed the seeds a few times in a colander, brought a 4 qt pot of salted water to boil and threw the seeds in for about 10 minutes. Then I drained them. I drizzled some oil over a shallow baking pan, threw the seeds in there and messed them around with my hand till they were coated and spread evenly across the bottom in one layer. As for seasoning, I chose a few sprinkles of smoked paprika, sea salt and fresh ground pepper. Bake for about 10 minutes, but really keep an eye on them. Let cool before you eat, and save the rest in air tight container.
Roasted Pumpkin
The boy and I really really enjoyed this. The flavor is very different from canned and puree...Closer to sweet potato plus squash. Plus I have enough for the whole winter.
I started out by struggling to cut the big vegetable up and was quickly brushed aside as my "man" made short work of the pumpkin. He then proceeded to show me how he would clean the remaining guts from the pieces if HE was going to do it. Prep work not being my favorite, I cooed and encouraged while I made myself a drink. When he finished, I handed him a drink as well.
We placed the pumpkin pieces flesh up on baking pans and rubbed them with olive oil. I seasoned with crushed dried rosemary, sea salt and ground pepper, but I bet thyme would be good too. We put this in the same 400 oven as the seeds and let it cook for about an hour. Stick a fork in the flesh to see if it is tender. After it cooled off, I pulled the skins off the large pieces of pumpkin (easy) and roughly chopped them into large chunks.
I portioned away a bunch in ziplocs and put them in the freezer. When I served them with dinner last night I sauteed the chunks to warm them up in a tablespoon of butter with a dash of olive oil so it doesn't burn. Then I sprinkled with more salt, rosemary, pepper and the juice of one 1/4 lemon. MMMMMMMM good. I think there is caramelizing going on somewhere, and then the comforting rosemary, the rich texture of the pumpkin, the freshness of the lemon juice...good. I think I will serve with some roast chicken and potatoes later this week.
We were grateful for: The boy was grateful he had a friend who would come help him figure out a problem for school. I was grateful I didn't have to run an event for work tomorrow.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Delicious Mushy Goo (with Kale)
The Boy had a come-to-Jesus moment about a month ago when he had a guest speaker in his philosophy class. The speaker discussed the ethics of the corporate food industry and the political and nutritional implications of eating meats produced on industrial farms. The major take away (that I learned about as he sneered at the delicious meal of pork tenderloin I put on the table that evening) was that there are a lot of really terrible things happening in the world -- poverty, famine, genocide, torture, war -- that we really can't do much about in our day-to-day routines, but we do have control over what we eat, we can choose to eat differently, and eating ethically makes a difference. The environmental impact of meat-eating is dramatic and appalling no matter what your take on the animal cruelty angle. In fact, some researchers recently calculated that meat-eaters going vegan would reduce America's greenhouse gas emissions more than car-owners going hybrid. Yikes!
"So, what are you trying to tell me?" I ask. "No more meat?"
This possibility isn't much of an issue for me as I was vegetarian and pescatarian (fish only) for about eight years, but the Boy...the Boy is a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy; I was pretty shocked (and delighted) at what this could mean for my mostly ineffective attempts to open his eyes to the delicious world of plants. Getting five-a-day in him has always been a struggle.
I see bacon cheeseburgers flash before his eyes, and he hedges, "Weeell, more like significantly reduce, but yeah."
Since, I've been expanding my repertoire of meat-free dishes for the meat lover. The Boy, on the other hand, keeps mentioning that he wants to find a local farm where he can kill his own chicken. Kind of a gruesome twist on picking your own apples, I guess. As long as he dresses and plucks the thing too, more power to him.
Anyway, on to the point of this post: the Mushy Goo. I got turned on to an Orangette recipe by a friend last week that sounded interesting so I thought I would try something like it. What I made is a modified, slimmer version of this recipe, if you're interested in the original. It calls for chard, not kale, and more oil and cheese.
Kale, Onion, and Gruyère Panade
Makes about 5 main-dish servings and takes about 2.5 hours start-to-finish.
1 1/2 lbs. onions, thinly sliced
About 1/4 c. olive oil
6 cloves garlic, slivered
Salt and pepper
1 lb. dinosaur kale, thick ribs removed, ripped into manageable bits
Water (2 c. plus enough to drizzle on the kale)
10 ounces day-old yummy bread (i.e. not WonderBread), cut into rough 1-inch cubes
2 c. vegetable broth
1 c. of grated gruyère cheese
To prepare the onions:
Place the onions in a large, deep saucepan, and toss with about 1/8 cup olive oil. Cook on medium-high heat, shaking the pan occasionally, until the onions on the bottom start to turn golden on the edges, about 3 minutes. Stir and cook until all the onions start to color. Reduce the heat to low, and add the garlic, about 1 t. of salt and pepper to taste. Let cook, stirring occasionally, until the onions are golden and tender, another 20 minutes or so.
Preheat the oven to 325.
To prepare the greens:
Place handfuls of kale in a large nonstick skillet sprayed with olive oil, mist greens with olive oil, and sprinkle with water and a few pinches of salt and pepper. Set the pan over medium heat until the leaves begin to cook; then reduce the heat and stir and fold the leaves until they are all just wilted, 2-4 minutes. Set aside.
To prepare the bread:
Toss the cubed bread with 2 or 3 T. olive oil, ¼ cup of the broth, and several pinches of salt.
To build the panade:
Using an oven-proof and stovetop-safe casserole dish or dutch oven (I used the 3 quart stainless casserole that I use for almost everything), assemble the panade in layers. It's all going to get mixed up, so it doesn't have to be pretty or exact. You should end up with 2 or 3 layers of each ingredient, so each layer should be 1/3 to 1/2 of the total amount you've got. You'll want the top to have a little of each ingredient showing. Start with onions, followed by bread cubes, greens and cheese. Lather, rinse, repeat until you have no more ingredients or no more space in your dish (mine was full to the top). It's okay to pack it down at the end.
Bring the remaining 1 ¾ cups broth and 2 cups water to a simmer in a pan of your choice. Orangette used a medium saucepan, I used the skillet I wilted the greens in to cut down on dishes. Whatever works for you. Pour the warm liquid slowly, in doses, over the assembled panade, drizzling it down the sides of the dish so you don't lose all the cheese on the top into the casserole.
Set the dish over medium heat on the stovetop, and bring the liquid to a simmer. Cover the top of the dish with parchment paper, then loosely cover the top again with aluminum foil or the lid to the dish if it's not too full. Place the panade on a baking sheet to catch drips, slide it into the oven, and bake it until hot and bubbly, about 1 hour.
Uncover, raise the temperature to 375, and bake for 10-20 minutes to brown the top. Once out of the oven, give it a couple of minutes to calm down before serving. Enjoy!
Several reports indicate that it is also delightful when reheated.
We served it with an earthy, fruity Carmenere/Merlot blend, courtesy of Trader Joe's Chilean Collection ($4.49), and it was a wonderful meal.
"So, what are you trying to tell me?" I ask. "No more meat?"
This possibility isn't much of an issue for me as I was vegetarian and pescatarian (fish only) for about eight years, but the Boy...the Boy is a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy; I was pretty shocked (and delighted) at what this could mean for my mostly ineffective attempts to open his eyes to the delicious world of plants. Getting five-a-day in him has always been a struggle.
I see bacon cheeseburgers flash before his eyes, and he hedges, "Weeell, more like significantly reduce, but yeah."
Since, I've been expanding my repertoire of meat-free dishes for the meat lover. The Boy, on the other hand, keeps mentioning that he wants to find a local farm where he can kill his own chicken. Kind of a gruesome twist on picking your own apples, I guess. As long as he dresses and plucks the thing too, more power to him.
Anyway, on to the point of this post: the Mushy Goo. I got turned on to an Orangette recipe by a friend last week that sounded interesting so I thought I would try something like it. What I made is a modified, slimmer version of this recipe, if you're interested in the original. It calls for chard, not kale, and more oil and cheese.
My version was delicious, and the bread comes out tasting exactly like saltines crushed into soup, one of my all-time top comfort foods.
Kale, Onion, and Gruyère Panade
Makes about 5 main-dish servings and takes about 2.5 hours start-to-finish.
1 1/2 lbs. onions, thinly sliced
About 1/4 c. olive oil
6 cloves garlic, slivered
Salt and pepper
1 lb. dinosaur kale, thick ribs removed, ripped into manageable bits
Water (2 c. plus enough to drizzle on the kale)
10 ounces day-old yummy bread (i.e. not WonderBread), cut into rough 1-inch cubes
2 c. vegetable broth
1 c. of grated gruyère cheese
To prepare the onions:
Place the onions in a large, deep saucepan, and toss with about 1/8 cup olive oil. Cook on medium-high heat, shaking the pan occasionally, until the onions on the bottom start to turn golden on the edges, about 3 minutes. Stir and cook until all the onions start to color. Reduce the heat to low, and add the garlic, about 1 t. of salt and pepper to taste. Let cook, stirring occasionally, until the onions are golden and tender, another 20 minutes or so.
Preheat the oven to 325.
To prepare the greens:
Place handfuls of kale in a large nonstick skillet sprayed with olive oil, mist greens with olive oil, and sprinkle with water and a few pinches of salt and pepper. Set the pan over medium heat until the leaves begin to cook; then reduce the heat and stir and fold the leaves until they are all just wilted, 2-4 minutes. Set aside.
To prepare the bread:
Toss the cubed bread with 2 or 3 T. olive oil, ¼ cup of the broth, and several pinches of salt.
To build the panade:
Using an oven-proof and stovetop-safe casserole dish or dutch oven (I used the 3 quart stainless casserole that I use for almost everything), assemble the panade in layers. It's all going to get mixed up, so it doesn't have to be pretty or exact. You should end up with 2 or 3 layers of each ingredient, so each layer should be 1/3 to 1/2 of the total amount you've got. You'll want the top to have a little of each ingredient showing. Start with onions, followed by bread cubes, greens and cheese. Lather, rinse, repeat until you have no more ingredients or no more space in your dish (mine was full to the top). It's okay to pack it down at the end.
Bring the remaining 1 ¾ cups broth and 2 cups water to a simmer in a pan of your choice. Orangette used a medium saucepan, I used the skillet I wilted the greens in to cut down on dishes. Whatever works for you. Pour the warm liquid slowly, in doses, over the assembled panade, drizzling it down the sides of the dish so you don't lose all the cheese on the top into the casserole.
Set the dish over medium heat on the stovetop, and bring the liquid to a simmer. Cover the top of the dish with parchment paper, then loosely cover the top again with aluminum foil or the lid to the dish if it's not too full. Place the panade on a baking sheet to catch drips, slide it into the oven, and bake it until hot and bubbly, about 1 hour.
Uncover, raise the temperature to 375, and bake for 10-20 minutes to brown the top. Once out of the oven, give it a couple of minutes to calm down before serving. Enjoy!
Several reports indicate that it is also delightful when reheated.
We served it with an earthy, fruity Carmenere/Merlot blend, courtesy of Trader Joe's Chilean Collection ($4.49), and it was a wonderful meal.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Ruhlman in Atlanta tomorrow
Michael Ruhlman, author of lots of books including the new The Elements of Cooking, is coming to Atlanta tomorrow to do a demo at Viking. It's pricey (therefore I'm not going), but rumor has it that he may be making an impromptu appearance at the Borders near there to sign books around 4:30-5:30ish. I'll try to confirm tomorrow whether this is actually happening (as I've been harrassing him about it).
I got my copy of Elements yesterday, and it's an opinionated run-down of everything the home cook should know about the stuff that they teach people in culinary school: the Strunk and White's Elements of Style for cooks. I've read the first 15 pages or so, and I've already learned about things that I will definitely try in my kitchen, and I haven't even gotten to the encyclopedia bit. He's also funny and doesn't take himself too seriously, two qualities that I appreciate greatly in both writing and life. I'll post a review once I'm done reading it.
Ruhlman is also one of the judges for the Next Iron Chef America on the Food Network. I would know what that is if I watched television and had cable, but I figured that some of you might be less popular-culturally challenged than me.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
The Zen of Cooking
For me, even when I come home from work very late (resulting in 8-10pm dinners) I usually take off my coat and head straight into the kitchen. I usually have general meal ideas built out per shopping, but often when my work schedule is overwhelming, like in the fall/winter season, I am often facing frequent creative approaches in the kitchen with bleary eyes, a sad tired back, and quite frankly an exhausted brain. I have several burns and cuts on my hands from minor cooking incidents over the past few months to show for it. Though I think I am either developing "chef's hands" or I am just drinking too much while cooking since these minor emergencies rarely cause me physical pain anymore, though they do cause bleeding and blistering!
Tonight was a wonderful marriage of fresh and convenience. Quick, flavorful and just enough chopping to soothe me. Just enough experimentation to satisfy. Quiet rhythms in movement and music. My stress melts away.
I played Imaad Wasif, a great artist we discovered as an opening act for a Yeah Yeah Yeahs concert. He is brilliant, a sort of nouveau Bob Dylan sort without the bizarre voice. I sat drinking wine post dinner at the dining table by myself just unwinding, thinking, melting. Good stuff.
But I put him on to begin my tai chi movements through the kitchen...
I made:
Trader Joes Masala Burgers - A wonderful veggie burger that had a lovely light masala flavor as well as the flavor of all the individual vegetables in it. More like a potato pancake than a soy based burger...in fact almost no soy in it at all...and only 120 calories a piece...even the boy loved them. They came well reccommended by belle bleue as well. We grilled them on the indoor grill.
One small zucchini and one small yellow squash - Sliced and tossed with fresh ground pepper, sea salt, and olive oil and then cooked in foil packet on grill (easy cleanup). Cook burgers and veggies together for 10 minutes. (Flip burgers once).
Basmati rice cooked as usual, but garnished in a new way. Right before serving tossed with pepper, salt and a drizzle of dark sesame oil...soooo lovely.
That's it. Good. Tasty. Quick. Simple. Healthy.
Our wine wasn't so hot though...Sicilia Nero d'Avola...drinkable, but nothing to write home about. Not sure where I got it, but I think Trader Joe's.
We are grateful for: The boy did well on an exam. I was grateful for the boy. I couldn't stop thinking on the commute home how happy I was to have him to go home to.
As an aside: Trader Joe's brand edamame is the best I have had. Much better than Kroger's, DeKalb Farmer's Market and Whole Foods' brand. The soy beans are plump, crisp, and pratically bursting with healthy green joy. Not to mention they cost half as much. Now I am listening to Traveling Wilburys, and I am happy even though I have to do some work now...
Pleasant High Calorie Dreams Y'all...
Tonight was a wonderful marriage of fresh and convenience. Quick, flavorful and just enough chopping to soothe me. Just enough experimentation to satisfy. Quiet rhythms in movement and music. My stress melts away.
I played Imaad Wasif, a great artist we discovered as an opening act for a Yeah Yeah Yeahs concert. He is brilliant, a sort of nouveau Bob Dylan sort without the bizarre voice. I sat drinking wine post dinner at the dining table by myself just unwinding, thinking, melting. Good stuff.
But I put him on to begin my tai chi movements through the kitchen...
I made:
Trader Joes Masala Burgers - A wonderful veggie burger that had a lovely light masala flavor as well as the flavor of all the individual vegetables in it. More like a potato pancake than a soy based burger...in fact almost no soy in it at all...and only 120 calories a piece...even the boy loved them. They came well reccommended by belle bleue as well. We grilled them on the indoor grill.
One small zucchini and one small yellow squash - Sliced and tossed with fresh ground pepper, sea salt, and olive oil and then cooked in foil packet on grill (easy cleanup). Cook burgers and veggies together for 10 minutes. (Flip burgers once).
Basmati rice cooked as usual, but garnished in a new way. Right before serving tossed with pepper, salt and a drizzle of dark sesame oil...soooo lovely.
That's it. Good. Tasty. Quick. Simple. Healthy.
Our wine wasn't so hot though...Sicilia Nero d'Avola...drinkable, but nothing to write home about. Not sure where I got it, but I think Trader Joe's.
We are grateful for: The boy did well on an exam. I was grateful for the boy. I couldn't stop thinking on the commute home how happy I was to have him to go home to.
As an aside: Trader Joe's brand edamame is the best I have had. Much better than Kroger's, DeKalb Farmer's Market and Whole Foods' brand. The soy beans are plump, crisp, and pratically bursting with healthy green joy. Not to mention they cost half as much. Now I am listening to Traveling Wilburys, and I am happy even though I have to do some work now...
Pleasant High Calorie Dreams Y'all...
Sunday, November 4, 2007
A Visit to the Georgia Aquarium
They say Japanese Spider Crab...Auntie Saveur says delicious! Can you say crab bisque, Bug?Turkey Day, Three Weeks Early.
My family was in town for the weekend, so I decided, since the Boy and I aren't making it up to see them at Thanksgiving this year, that I would prepare a mini-turkey day meal on Friday night. Yes, because when you are looking forward to housing six adults and an 18-month-old in a 1200 square foot house with only one bathroom, cooking a big, labor-intensive meal is obviously the most logical choice. [insert self-directed eye roll here.] It was a huge success, as you can see from the happy Bug photo at right. The cranberry sauce was her favorite, and it was super easy. I made it in the morning while I was eating breakfast. I sort of made it up as I went along, using the basic proportions for the cranberries, water and sugar from The New Best Recipe Basic Cranberry Sauce as the base. Proportions weren't exact, though, because the original recipe calls for 12 ounces of cranberries, and I had 16, so I multiplied a bit. In the recipe below, I'm sticking with the original recipe proportions to avoid confusion. Once you read past the cranberries line in the ingredient list, you can blame me for anything that goes wrong with your sauce.
Cranberry Sauce
makes enough to cover a 22-lb. baby from head-to-toe
3/4 c. water
1 c. sugar
1/4 t. salt
12 ounce bag of fresh or frozen cranberries, picked over to remove any that are bruised, bloated, soft or otherwise yucky. White ones can stay. Do not thaw if you use frozen; you'll just have to cook for a bit longer.
1/4 to 1/2 t. freshly grated nutmeg
1 cinnamon stick
7 or 8 allspice berries
1/2 t. whole cloves
2 T. brandy or cognac (I used extremely cheap stuff)
Put the allspice and cloves in a tea ball or tie them up in a pouch of cheesecloth. Bring the water, sugar and salt to a boil in a nonreactive saucepan over high heat, stirring occasionally to dissolve the sugar. Stir in the cranberries, nutmeg and cinnamon stick, and dunk the sachet of allspice and cloves in too. Return to a boil, reduce heat to medium and simmer until saucy, slightly thickened and about two thirds of the berries have popped open. TNBR says this should take about 5 minutes, but in my experience, it's more like 10-15. Your mileage may vary. Transfer the sauce to a nonreactive bowl, remove the sachet and the cinnamon stick, stir in the brandy and cool to room temperature. You can make this up to a week ahead of time -- an excellent idea for actual turkey day! You could also replace the brandy with Grand Marnier or Triple Sec. The orange flavor works with cranberries too.
We started the meal with a curried sweet potato soup, recipe courtesy of la belle mangeuse. I changed it a bit because I was experiencing an onion shortage, and I forgot to put in 2 c. of milk that her recipe called for... I first tasted this recipe at our cabin extravanganza in early October. It's easy and a lovely blend of fall flavors. Everyone, including Bug, loved it and asked for the recipe. Okay, the kid didn't ask for the recipe, but her mama did.
Curried Sweet Potato Soup
serves 6 1/2 small servings, 4 normal servings
4 T. unsalted butter
1 medium yellow onion, chopped
3 or 4 cloves of garlic, minced or pressed through a garlic press
1/8 to 1/4 t. crushed red pepper
2 t. curry powder
1/2 t. ground coriander
2 1/2 lb. sweet potatoes, peeled, sliced, boiled and mashed
5 cups of vegetable broth
1/2 cup heavy cream
Sea salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
Melt butter in a large saucepan over medium-high heat. Add onions and garlic and cook, stirring often, until softened, about 4 minutes. Add spices and stir for a minute more. Add potatoes and broth; blend well. Bring to a boil and reduce heat, simmer for 10 to 15 minutes. Transfer soup, in batches, to a blender or food processor OR blend with an immersion blender in the pot (much easier. I love my immersion blender!). Blend until smooth. Return soup to saucepan. With the soup on low heat, add cream. Adjust seasonings to taste. If a little too spicy, add more cream to cool it down. Add salt and pepper to taste.
The centerpiece of the meal was delectable, moist turkey. I brined and roasted an almost 5-lb. turkey breast using Alton Brown's fabulous recipe/how to from the 2003 Thanksgiving issue of Bon Appetit. I used his techniques last year and ended up with the best turkey I've ever eaten, bar none. It's good stuff, folks. I divided the recipe, of course, and the main deviations I made to accommodate the needs of the breast-only roast were to put 1 c. of water in the bottom of the roasting pan before I stuck dear Tommy in the oven and to cook for 30 minutes at 425 and then turned the oven down to 325 until my probe thermometer registered 161 degrees.
A probe thermometer with a wire that goes in the oven or a wireless set up is a godsend for preparing wonderful, perfectly done meats. I use mine all the time, and it was under $20 at Target. Now, you'll read that white-meat turkey needs to cook to 165, so isn't it dangerous to remove it at 161? NO. It's very important to the flavor and moistness of your turkey. As the bird rests out of the oven (for at least 30 minutes), it continues to cook with residual heat, and the juices redistribute throughout the meat. You can expect that your meat will rise in temperature at least 5 degrees -- sometimes as much as 10 -- so, if you wait to remove Tommy from the oven until his internal temperature hits the "safe" mark, you're going to be eating a dry, overcooked bird by the time it hits the table.
The roast took about 1.5 hours once it was in the oven. Definitely a great alternative to doing a whole bird if you're short on time and aren't expecting an army, and you don't have to deal with the challenge of the temperature-requirement differential between dark meat and white meat.
Our meal was rounded out with my mom's cornbread dressing (made with day-old fresh cornbread), green beans sauteed in olive oil, no knead bread and mashed potatoes with leeks. We served it with a lovely not-too-sweet German white wine and a needed-a-few-minutes-to-wake-up Zinfandel.
This early-bird Thanksgiving, I'm very grateful for my family, preparing and eating delicious food, and the abundance of joy in my life.
Baby Loves Bacon Salt
This is my sort-of niece, Bug. She loves Bacon Salt too! She got very angry when I tried to take it away from her. Goes to show you: EVERYONE, even toddlers, knows that everything should taste like bacon!
Thursday, November 1, 2007
MMM Headcheese. Thanks to Diana Kennedy.
1/2 pig's head weighing 5-6 pounds, cut into 4 pieces
1 1/2 tbls sea salt to taste
Water to cover
1/2 med onion, finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, peeled and finely chopped
1 cup dry white wine
2 tbls good dijon mustard
2 heaped tbls roughly chopped misxed fresh herbs; baisl, marjoram. thyme, tarragon, parsley
A lot of fresh ground pepper
1 rounded tbls green peppercorns, drained.
Cornichons
Rinse the pig's head well, changing the water 3 times. Singe off any remaining coarse hairs on the pig's head. Put the pieces of head in a large saucepan, add the salt, cover with water and cook until tender but not too soft about 2 1/2 hours. The meat should come away from the bone faily easily. Drain the pieces reserving the broth, and set aside to cool. Strain the broth, return to saucepan and reduce to 3 cups.
As soons as the meat is cool enough to handle, remove the eye and discard. Take all of the meat (rind, tongue, brains, and ear, etc.) off the bones and chop roughly. Put the meat into the reduce stock, ad the onion, garic, wine, and mustard, and cool over a fairly high flame for 15 minutes. Add the herbs and pepper and cook for 5 minutes mor. Adjust the seasoning. Stir in the peppercorns. Pour the mixture into a 7 cup mold, cover, and refrigerate until set into a thick jellied texture. You can eat it right away, but it is even better if allowed to ripen for another day before cutting. Serve with cornichons and hot mustard.
1 1/2 tbls sea salt to taste
Water to cover
1/2 med onion, finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, peeled and finely chopped
1 cup dry white wine
2 tbls good dijon mustard
2 heaped tbls roughly chopped misxed fresh herbs; baisl, marjoram. thyme, tarragon, parsley
A lot of fresh ground pepper
1 rounded tbls green peppercorns, drained.
Cornichons
Rinse the pig's head well, changing the water 3 times. Singe off any remaining coarse hairs on the pig's head. Put the pieces of head in a large saucepan, add the salt, cover with water and cook until tender but not too soft about 2 1/2 hours. The meat should come away from the bone faily easily. Drain the pieces reserving the broth, and set aside to cool. Strain the broth, return to saucepan and reduce to 3 cups.
As soons as the meat is cool enough to handle, remove the eye and discard. Take all of the meat (rind, tongue, brains, and ear, etc.) off the bones and chop roughly. Put the meat into the reduce stock, ad the onion, garic, wine, and mustard, and cool over a fairly high flame for 15 minutes. Add the herbs and pepper and cook for 5 minutes mor. Adjust the seasoning. Stir in the peppercorns. Pour the mixture into a 7 cup mold, cover, and refrigerate until set into a thick jellied texture. You can eat it right away, but it is even better if allowed to ripen for another day before cutting. Serve with cornichons and hot mustard.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Food Adventure #1: LA
Last week, I took my first trip to the Left Coast for a work conference in Los Angeles. Conferencing usually presents sparse opportunities for experiencing the local food scene, but this trip far exceeded my expectations. I stayed at the historic Biltmore hotel in downtown LA which is an absolutely spectacular, over-the-top building (seriously, every surface of this place is carved, gilded and frescoed to within an inch of its life) where the Academy Awards were once held. There are photos all down the hallway to the ladies' room of celebrities in the times that celebrities were classy: Clark Gable, Shirley Temple, Bette Davis... *swoon*
Well, I arrived in this grand location mid-afternoon (Pacific time) on Sunday having left Atlanta on a 10:30am flight and having eaten nothing but "discount airline pretzels" and Biscoff (which I hate) since about 8am (Eastern time). I was ravenous, but was meeting up with a friend from college later in the afternoon, so I needed something light. Not ravenous enough to go to Quizno's, the first place I walked past, or to Domino's, Quizno's next-door neighbor. I approached a tiny shop labelled a "superconvenience" and wrote it off as a candidate for my first meal ever on Pacific time, but as I walked by I spotted a large refrigerated island that appeared to have sushi and prepared sandwiches and I thought, "Famima!!, we have a winner!"
Famima!!, she is amazing. Part convenience store (one aisle of minitoothpaste and one-sleeve packs of Oreos), but the rest... Famima!! is to organic-eating young urban professionals what Sheetz is to rednecks and frat boys. Seriously. They have the largest array of unsweetened, calorie-free beverages I've ever seen. Having recently sworn off of aspartame after reading this book, this was key to my late lunching happiness. They've got Diet Coke too, mind you, but I have -- literally -- dozens of choices that won't put holes in my brain. I selected a delectable-looking seaweed salad, a brown rice cucumber roll and a bottle of "green tea drink" with no English on the label and 160 percent of my daily allowance of vitamin C. Other options included lovely premade salads (southwestern, greek, chef, etc), minimally soggy-looking sandwiches and Indian dishes which the Famima!! clerk will heat up for you behind the counter. At the counter, there was also a case of "steamy buns" filled with concoctions of pork, veggies or chicken. I decided that I would have to come back to try one of these delights (this will have to wait until my next excursion out west).
I settled down at a bistro table on the sidewalk to tackle my lunch. (Finally!) My (admittedly fish-free) sushi was phenomenal. The rice was moist and sticky with a slightly sweet hint of mirin, the cucumber crunchy. The seaweed salad was delightful: spicy and crisp with none of the sliminess I associate with seaweed salad. The "green tea drink" was great too. Famima!!, I think I love you. You should move to Atlanta!
I returned to the hotel and finally managed to corral my old friend, and we met for a drink at the Gallery Bar, a contender for the nicest hotel bar in America, I think. I had a gimlet; he ordered a Negroni (which Dr. Google informs me is a fancy concoction of gin, Campari and sweet vermouth). The bartender was subtle, classy and mixed a damned good cocktail. A far cry from my usual digs, but I could get used to this! I learned later that this bar is the last place the Black Dahlia was seen alive... so, the good, the bad and the ugly of Hollywood are all connected to this hotel. Way to go, conference planners!
From the bar, College Friend and I drove around town. LA is really quite beautiful, especially in the dark, but it has a certain plastic, groomed quality about it that I associate with model train villages. LA's beauty is all lights and sparkle and kitsch, not the older, wilder beauty of the East Coast places I'm used to.
Well, I arrived in this grand location mid-afternoon (Pacific time) on Sunday having left Atlanta on a 10:30am flight and having eaten nothing but "discount airline pretzels" and Biscoff (which I hate) since about 8am (Eastern time). I was ravenous, but was meeting up with a friend from college later in the afternoon, so I needed something light. Not ravenous enough to go to Quizno's, the first place I walked past, or to Domino's, Quizno's next-door neighbor. I approached a tiny shop labelled a "superconvenience" and wrote it off as a candidate for my first meal ever on Pacific time, but as I walked by I spotted a large refrigerated island that appeared to have sushi and prepared sandwiches and I thought, "Famima!!, we have a winner!"
Famima!!, she is amazing. Part convenience store (one aisle of minitoothpaste and one-sleeve packs of Oreos), but the rest... Famima!! is to organic-eating young urban professionals what Sheetz is to rednecks and frat boys. Seriously. They have the largest array of unsweetened, calorie-free beverages I've ever seen. Having recently sworn off of aspartame after reading this book, this was key to my late lunching happiness. They've got Diet Coke too, mind you, but I have -- literally -- dozens of choices that won't put holes in my brain. I selected a delectable-looking seaweed salad, a brown rice cucumber roll and a bottle of "green tea drink" with no English on the label and 160 percent of my daily allowance of vitamin C. Other options included lovely premade salads (southwestern, greek, chef, etc), minimally soggy-looking sandwiches and Indian dishes which the Famima!! clerk will heat up for you behind the counter. At the counter, there was also a case of "steamy buns" filled with concoctions of pork, veggies or chicken. I decided that I would have to come back to try one of these delights (this will have to wait until my next excursion out west).
I settled down at a bistro table on the sidewalk to tackle my lunch. (Finally!) My (admittedly fish-free) sushi was phenomenal. The rice was moist and sticky with a slightly sweet hint of mirin, the cucumber crunchy. The seaweed salad was delightful: spicy and crisp with none of the sliminess I associate with seaweed salad. The "green tea drink" was great too. Famima!!, I think I love you. You should move to Atlanta!
I returned to the hotel and finally managed to corral my old friend, and we met for a drink at the Gallery Bar, a contender for the nicest hotel bar in America, I think. I had a gimlet; he ordered a Negroni (which Dr. Google informs me is a fancy concoction of gin, Campari and sweet vermouth). The bartender was subtle, classy and mixed a damned good cocktail. A far cry from my usual digs, but I could get used to this! I learned later that this bar is the last place the Black Dahlia was seen alive... so, the good, the bad and the ugly of Hollywood are all connected to this hotel. Way to go, conference planners!
From the bar, College Friend and I drove around town. LA is really quite beautiful, especially in the dark, but it has a certain plastic, groomed quality about it that I associate with model train villages. LA's beauty is all lights and sparkle and kitsch, not the older, wilder beauty of the East Coast places I'm used to.
After a turn through the jazz section of Amoeba Records (the most amazing/overwhelming record store I've ever been in), we settled into an adorable seafood restaurant called the Hungry Cat near the corner of Sunset and Vine. The decor was hip, and Loretta Lynn's Walk-of-Fame star was just a few feet outside the door. (Disclosure: Harry Carey's was too, but that doesn't sound nearly as hip as Ms. Lynn in her Jack-White-produced renaissance.) We immediately ran down the cocktail menu -- LA seems like a cocktail kind of town -- and I ordered the cucumber martini, a traditionalish gin martini blended with cukes. College Friend ordered the Hot Tamale, confidently selecting the "On fire" option rather than the less manly "Hot" version. This drink was a mixture of chile-infused tequila and some other stuff. HOT HOT stuff. They weren't joking with the "On fire" moniker. We discovered that the cool cucumber martini was an excellent chaser, and eventually ordered a second round of cuke-tinis (yum!).
This cat was pretty hungry at this point, so everything on the menu sounded even more delicious than usual. We had College Friend's odd (and lifelong) refusal to eat fruit to accommodate, so that took a few choices off the table. After rolling our eyes at the folks around the restaurant eating burgers at a seafood joint, we settled on sharing both the scallops and the ling cod. Entree #1 arrives, roasted scallops with fregola sarda, Smithfield ham and harissa aioli. OMG. The scallops were succulent and tender, perfectly paired with the spicy, tomatoey sauce and the fregola sarda, which are little puffs of pasta that roughly resembled chick peas. We were practically licking the plate by the time entree #2 arrived, ling cod with merguez sausage, potatoes and kale. This dish was just as delightful as the first, and by the time I placed the last forkfull in my mouth and lapped up the last drip of cucumber martini, I felt the internal sigh of the culinarily sated. If it hadn't been after midnight in my brain, a cat nap would have been in order (ba-dum-bum).
I went on to put away lots of fish (including some amazing happy-hour-special sushi at the Monsoon Cafe in Santa Monica), surprisingly good hotel/conference food and some middling microbrews. All in all, LA is a place that I would like to visit again. Maybe next time without the talking about education data to distract me from the food. ;)
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