Angelini Osteria... Viva l'Osteria!

My dad loves to eat out, perhaps even more than I. He also loves to cook, but when he visits me we essentially design the itinerary around each meal. If dinner has not been plotted yet, we discuss it and decide during lunch. 

Yesterday, before an afternoon movie, while we noshed on a simple, French lunch of country paté and merguez sausage sandwiches (and maybe a glass of Bordeaux) we discussed - what else, but - that night's dinner plans. Dad was concerned that it was a Saturday night and we had nary a reservation.
 
After tossing a few ideas around and being denied any reasonable reservation times we settled on a 9pm reservation at the counter at Angelini Osteria. I had been there once previously with little fanfare, but it was years ago - and I have always heard great things. I also have such a love for Ita-Cho, right next door, that I have often ended up running in there, even when I intend to go to Angelini.
Things have changed, however.
 
Dad and I rolled in right on time, at 9pm and were immediately led to our two spots at the counter. The space is intimate, warm and happy - every table filled. At first I was a little bummed we didn't get a table, but after a few moments, Dad and I both agreed, we had the best seats in the house. There are only 6 seats at the counter, making it very intimate and easier dealing with sound levels. We were able to see back into the kitchen, which is always fun. We also received lots of attention since we were in a lot of the staff's faces. But not too much attention. You know what I mean.
 
We immediately ordered a couple of glasses of Prosecco to sip while we perused the menu. Along with an enormous bread basket with an assortment of breads, we were handed their regular menu in addition to the menu of specials - an entire page. We opted to start with the Fegatini Chicken Liver with Green Beans and Traditional Balsamic Vinegar ($10) followed by the Beet and Burrata Salad. Both were simple and perfect but the chicken livers were DIVINE. We actually were blown away at how delicious this dish was. It was very rich and set my taste buds into high gear, but yet such a simple dish, with so few key ingredients.

 
The burrata was very fresh and wonderful - always paired fantastically with some slightly sweet, fresh beets. This dish was simply finished with a fine olive oil, coarse sea salt and fresh chives.


At this point we had also ordered a nice bottle of 1998 Vietti Barolo "Castiglione di Falleto" ($57) which was working impeccably with everything.
 
For entree time Dad opted for the Whole Branzino, Roasted in Sea Salt with Aromatic Herbs ($29). The warm and friendly manager, Gino Rindone, brought the fish out, with it's accouterments, and proceeded to deftly and ceremoniously liberate it from it's salt shell, filet it and then present the ready-to-eat meal in front of my dad, all with a smile. The Branzino was exceptionally moist, delicate and seasoned to perfection. Dad loved it.


I went with the Wild Boar Tenderloin that was on the specials menu. It was served with sauteed mushrooms and a potato puree. The wild boar was drizzled with a port-balsamic reduction with a sprig of fresh rosemary on the side. This dish was very rich and very decadent. I delighted in this dish, which while I devoured - I savored every bite. I even took the littlest bit I couldn't eat home with me for a midnight nosh. The boar was cooked rare and thinly sliced. It melted in my mouth. I swirled the meat, a mushroom or two, and some potatoes around in the reduction to make each bite complex and divine. As you may imagine, this dish was great with that Barolo as well.
 

We had a blast sitting at that counter, sipping our red wine, chatting with the servers and the manager - who even gave us little tastes of this and thats coming out if we oohed and ahhhed. We chatted for a moment with the couple sitting next to us, talked about the food, life, the universe and everything to each other - and even that time I wouldn't eat the f*%!#ing spaghetti squash when I was a little girl, and had to sit at the table all night until I did.
 
I love my dad.
 
We really had a great time and a great meal at Angelini Osteria. You can count on my return, and I will request a seat at the counter when I do.

Angelini Osteria
7313 Beverly Blvd
Los Angeles, CA 90036
Phone: (323) 297-0070
http://angeliniosteria.com/

Yang Chow. Not my cup of green tea.

 
Okay, I will first state that while I do consider myself to have a somewhat educated and discerning palate - that I am a veritable neophyte in the Chinese cuisine arena. I have always enjoyed the occasional Chinese food night which conjures thoughts of either a delivered dinner where I eat with my chopsticks straight out of the takeout containers while watching the ABC Sunday night movie in my cozies OR dining out in a dimly lit restaurant with neat streams, bridges and fountains inside that serve dishes with words like happy, lucky, delight and family in the title (which I miss... where did those go??).

Since I've grown up (ahem) and no longer indulge in the ABC Sunday night movie and I haven't encountered any wonky, little spots with water features inside, I've found that Chinese food night has taken a major hit. Even now I very rarely order Chinese food, but do occasionally enjoy an evening at Mandarette. I love their scallion pancakes and bbq pork flat noodles. And once in a blue moon I'll have the weekend morning Dim-Sum times in Chinatown - but not near as often as I should. I think maybe the problem with the Chinese food deficit in my life could be that it is difficult to find a good glass of wine with my meal. Food for thought...

With that said I'll get on with my story. Last Friday night Dixon & I were to attend the Collecting Collections opening at MOCA. I figured since we were heading downtown - and rarely are in the area - we should try something new. I was thinking Chinatown. I did my research, weighed my options, and settled on Yang Chow. And so, with visions of their famed Slippery Shrimp dish that I had been hearing so much about swirling about in my mind, we headed downtown.

Yang Chow is right in the heart of Chinatown, on Broadway at Alpine. It has an unassuming facade with a sign that's hard to miss. Upon opening the door one is led into a bustling environment. There appear to be three separate dining rooms, all on the small side and intimate enough. The wall above our heads was plastered with 736351971 8x10s of various celebrities and politicians who have come through the place at some point (I guess it's good to know where the politicians spend their money). The decor is modest, understated and straightforward, slightly sterile - and a bit too bright for me with my pre-MOCA opening, Friday night make-up. I noticed that there were not a lot of locals in the place - more of a bridge and tunnel crowd.

Upon being seated we were greeted with a pot of tea - a blend of oolong, jasmine, and green. We promptly ordered a couple of Tsing Taos and checked out the menu. Dixon was feeling a little under the weather (and was a bit of a kill joy, I might add) so we didn't order a zillion things. For Dixon, we began with a soup - which actually turned out to be the star dish of the evening. The soup was Spicy Szechuan Wonton and it was fantastic. It was on the appetizer list (surprisingly not listed with the other soups) and was more than enough for two. The wontons were soft and yet chewy with a nice give and stuffed with pork. The broth was thin in consistency but incredibly robust and packed with szechuan spice and some sesame oil. We both enjoyed it immensely.

 
We also had an order of the steamed pork dumplings which were perfectly plump and tender, Dry Sautéed Vegetable Delights (asparagus and green beans with (tons of) chopped garlic and ground chicken)) and, finally, the famed Slippery Shrimp, a neon batch of slightly sweet, slightly spicy, slightly crispety crunchety butterflied shrimp.

Fun fact: The dish was introduced at the original Yang Chow, which opened in Chinatown in downtown Los Angeles in 1977. I hear the dish got it's name during it's first preparation. The corn starch coating made the partially cooked shrimp very slick causing them to slip off the plate.

The green bean and asparagus dish was quite good - not overcooked - with a snap to the beans. The shrimp was fine, but honestly I don't understand what everyone is jumping up and down about. Really it was a bit silly and too sweet an entree for my taste.

I will add that the staff was fast and friendly enough and the food came out at a clip. The portions were ginormous and the prices were great.

But really the experience caused something between confusion and disappointment for me. We make the trek to Chinatown. I read all about this being the definitive Chinese food spot. It has a dish with a STORY. But I couldn't find anything exceptional about the food. While I felt it was Westernized and a bit heavy and oily, it certainly wasn't the bad, cheap, greasy Chinese food we all have experienced at some point. But it wasn't SPECIAL. In fact it very much reminded me of the food in the restaurants from my youth with the toys in my Shirley Temple, and the fountains and streams and bridges. If they added those elements I'd make the effort to return as often as possible and probably try everything on the menu just for the fun, kitch factor. But until then I remain on a quest for the exceptional and sparkly Chinese food night.

Yang Chow
819 N Broadway
Los Angeles, CA 90012
Phone: (213) 625-0811
http://www.yangchow.com/

A toast to toast

At the farmer's market today I was very excited to buy some fresh herbs to plant, specifically chocolate mint. My foodtastic roommate, Madeline, and I began a love affair with chocolate mint last Summer when my mom was in town and planted us an herb garden with purchases from the Sunday market. Madeline would make the most wonderful snacks and treats accented with the bounty from our little garden. She especially loved the chocolate mint - which I believe was a new discovery for her. She put it in and on water, tea, coffee (yes, coffee), salads, and toast to name a few. I quite liked it in a Summery pasta salad or chopped up and sprinkled over ice cream.

Chocolate Mint

Well, we have since moved from the house with our herb garden. We actually tried to bring the chocolate mint that was potted but it was never the same and very recently I decided it was truly over for our special, transplanted treat. So you can imagine my sorrow when I was told by my favorite herb guy at the market that chocolate mint won't be in season and available for another two months - and that his spearmint was only just now available. I did purchase some nasturtium however - another favorite at our house - which I planted this afternoon. Nasturtium is great. It has a slightly peppery and very fresh taste reminiscent of watercress. I've found it to be wonderful in salads and cold pasta dishes - perhaps a nasturtium pesto or even risotto... I imagine it would be a great compliment with salmon.
 

Nasturtium

I digress...

Let me begin by mentioning that Madeline has this way of taking very simple dishes and making them magical. She makes this insanely thick, strong coffee with raw milk, sugar and a bit of salt (salt?!). The coffee is fantastic. I'm not really a scrambled egg person but whatever she does to hers is so special and yummy, decadent, rich and perfectly, slightly underdone. I've tried to emulate both of these morning delights of hers with varying success. She still does them best. One night for a small gathering of our friends she made one of the most delicious, tender and juicy roast chickens (with perfectly crisped skin) I've ever had - all of our friends were in agreement. We're talking about coffee, scrambled eggs and chicken here, not Babette's feast. It's amazing.

This brings me to the toast.

During Summer, 2007 (a season that will go down in history/infamy for Madeline and me for numerous reasons) my concept of toast changed forever thanks to Miss M. It's also one of the few things I've gleaned from her that I feel I have confidently mastered. Today - with thoughts of chocolate mint - I returned from the market, put away my produce, put fresh flowers around the house, planted the nasturtium, and decided to make some toast to eat while I did the Sunday crossword.

The freshness and seasonality of the ingredients are key here...

(My favorite) Ingredients:

1 batard or rustic loaf with good crust
1 heirloom tomato (red, yellow, orange or "black" are all fun for colorful times)
1 hass avocado (ripe)
1 clove of garlic, peeled
approx. 1 tbsp of super nice extra virgin olive oil
fresh basil leaves
chocolate mint
some nasturtium
1/2 Meyer lemon
fresh cracked black pepper
coarse sea salt


Preparation:

Slice the tomato and avocado and sprinkle salt over them. A squeeze of lemon is nice as well.
Simply cut (or tear) yourself a chunk of the bread and toast it to crispyness.
Take your clove of garlic and rub it all over the toast.

Drizzle the oil over the toast.
Layer the herbs, tomato and avocado in an aesthetic and user-friendly manner over the toast (so you get all the flavors in each bite).
Salt & pepper to taste.



Other ideas:
You can't go wrong with a smattering of all sorts of fresh herbs you may have around.
Add shallot or red onion thinly sliced.
Add splash of balsamic vinegar.

I know it seems simple, maybe too simple. But try it. It's great in the morning with coffee and eggs, as an afternoon snack with a glass of Lillet, or perhaps a preamble to dinner. And although I may be jumping the gun a little, nothing tastes more like Summer.


“No bread. Then bring me some toast!”
Punch, 1852

Tasca

 
I love wine.

I love graze-y, noshy, snacky, wine-filled, conversation-heavy evenings. On frequent occasions I love a destination that is not my or one of my friend's houses that can accommodate such an evening. Surprisingly there are fewer options than one may imagine - especially with quality food (I am not talking about a glass of "house red" and wings here). Obviously A.O.C. is a great option but it usually ends up being a whole THING - kind of dressy, kind of expensive, kind of a scene. There is Vinoteca, in Los Feliz, which is lovely. But it's more of a wine bar in a literal sense - a bar that serves primarily wine with an extensive wine list. They do serve food and it's not horrible - but it's not so great either. Mediocre at best.

Late last Summer I learned about Tasca. I went on a date (I know... it's rare, but it does happen occasionally) with someone who seemingly frequented the place. We were there for dinner. We sat at a table. Date ordered a bottle of wine (after we had a couple glasses of prosecco) and then proceeded to order a slew of menu items, primarily small plates, that came out staggered at a nice pace. We had the Artisan cheese plate with fig & quince paste and fruit & nuts ($12), the charcuterie plate ($14), white anchovies (man do I love an anchovy) served with tomato, hard boiled egg & aoili on crostini ($9), the Boudin Noir - black sausage with sauteed apple & onion ($12), Gambas Al Ajillo - sauteed shrimp in garlic sauce ($11), charred rapini ($5) and a salad of Burrata, heirloom tomatoes, Serrano ham & watercress in a balsamic reduction ($12). I guess we ordered a lot.

The food was perfectly fine if not wildly memorable. I did particularly like the white anchovies and the Boudin Noir. The cheese and chartcuterie plates were just a little weak - uninteresting cheeses that were not entirely ripened, Spanish-inflected but still mediocre choices of cured meats, etc. The shrimp was a little drowny in the (slightly heavy) sauce. The salad was great but I have become admittedly alarmed that it has remained on the menu to this day - when heirloom tomatoes are not in season.
 
The wine list is quite nice. Simple, clean and well priced with a wide selection available by the glass and quite a few nice bottles in the $50 range.

The space is intimate, warm and inviting with nice, subtle lighting and lots of candles. There are about a dozen tables lined along one side of the room with a bar that stretches the entire other side of the room. The music is a little abrasive - or maybe just not my style (Eurotrashy beats) but isn't too loud. The staff is delightful and obliging. The crowd is varied, local, casual, happy, and - it would appear - regulars.

I've been back to Tasca quite a few times since the date last Summer with different people in different contexts - friends, chef-y roommate, Madeline, a possible romantic interest, and even by myself. The more I go the more I dig it. I prefer to sit at the bar and try different wines by the glass with different dishes. On one of my recent visits with - who else, but - Dixon, we tried their roasted tomato soup ($8). It had a beautiful presentation, in a terrine, but was somewhat lacking intrigue and a bit sweeter than I would have liked.

 
We then ordered the baby artichoke salad served with "heirloom" tomatoes over arugula in a Meyer lemon vinaigrette with shaved parmesan ($11). This was a very simple, fresh salad that I quite liked.

 
The most exciting menu item of the evening was the braised short rib served with butternut squash agnolotti ($12). The meat was rich and tender and the agnolotti was decadent, soft and sweet with a brown butter sage sauce drizzled over it. Yum.

 
We tried a few medium to heavy reds throughout the evening. I was fond of the '04 Chateau Le Fleur Bibian Bordeaux ($7) while Dixon went a bit heavier with the Parrone Cabernet Sauvignon ($6). When they have it in stock the Tempranillo ($5) is a great choice as well.

It's nice. I can roll in in my jeans or in a fancy, girlie ensemble. I can be with a friend, multiple friends, a date (ahem), or solo. I can sip and snack. I can graze. I can eat a proper dinner. Hell, last night I just stopped to meet a friend for a couple of glasses of wine. I'm not saying I've found my Regal Beagle, but Tasca has something I've found rarely in LA and something I very much appreciate - a sense of place.

Note: Parking is a bitch but there is valet.

Tasca
8108 W. 3rd St. (at Crescent Heights Boulevard)
Los Angeles
(323) 951-9890
tascawinebar.com

The Hungry Cat, Santa Barbara

 
My mom and her friend, Katie were in town last week. Mom was hell bent on seeing Michael Pollan speak at UCSB, so that's what we did. 8pm, Saturday night, Santa Barbara... But where to eat beforehand? This decision actually had me dithered out for a few days. I am not that familiar with Santa Barbara. I have only driven past it on the way to Los Olivos with the exception of one afternoon, last Summer, where I did tool around the city on a bit of a driving tour. But we moved onto Ojai by dinnertime. I heard of a fantastic taco stand which actually sounded like a really cool idea. However about halfway through the drive there in rush hour traffic on the 101 I realized wherever we were to dine I was going to need at least one glass of wine. The taco stand idea wasn't going to work. Then I remembered that the good, ole Hungry Cat had opened up a sister restaurant in Santa Barbara. Fresh seafood in an oceanside town, great wine list, in a central location, perfect. So we programed our little GPS (whch Mom and Katie named Serena) to guide us to our meal and that - ever growing with importance - glass of wine (or two).

The Hungry Cat here in LA is good. Wonderful, fresh oysters, innovative and seasonal menu, great wine list, and ZERO ambiance. In fact while we were dining there once my mom commented that she felt as though she was IN an oyster. It's very cold, hard and sterile. A lot of concrete. But the food and the cocktails (made with top shelf liquor and fresh squeezed juices and fruit) make it a worthwhile destination regardless. The Hungry Cat in Santa Barbara is another world altogether. It's lovely! In an old building on a corner lot, lots of (casement) windows, beautiful lighting, and much more intimate, this Hungry Cat was already the perfect choice.

We began the way I always begin at The Hungry Cat - with a dozen mixed, raw oysters on the half shell. They always have very fine and fresh oysters and tonight was no different. I could easily have a meal of only dozens of oysters and wine. Yum. I noticed on the fruits of the sea platters there was sea urchin (Uni is my most favorite item to order at sushi) but it was nowhere else on the menu. After inquiring I learned that for a mere $16 a sea urchin could be mine to enjoy! I've never had it served any way except over rice, wrapped in nori. Wow. This crazy, spindly, imposing creature appeared in front of me served over ice with house-made crackers, lemon and sea salt. It was so fresh and so delicate - such a contrast with it's armored and dangerous exterior - so decadent, so wonderful. Also such an experience! Both my mom and her friend, Katie were fascinated and impressed, had never had sea urchin before. I am so Team Sea Urchin...

 
I paired the oysters and the sea urchin with a glass of Chateau Durasse Bordeaux Blanc ($38, $9) which was nice if a little powerful for the food it accompanied (I should have just had a glass of prosecco or Sancerre).

I then ordered the grilled flatbread, smoked veal and confit tuna remoloulade ($15), my mom had the local halibut ($12) and Katie ordered the famed Pug burger ($14). Honestly my flatbreads were kind of heavy, salty and oily, Mom's halibut was fresh and delicious but the portion was tiny - almost a sashimi-style presentation. Katie's Pug burger was great. It's really a fantastic burger - enormous, and served with avocado, bacon & blue cheese. This burger, named after chef - owner David Lentz's dog, Pug, is hugely popular and has received much press as one of the best burgers in LA.

We all enjoyed our experience and our food quite a bit. I still think The Hungry Cat is most ideal for raw bar items and cocktails, but this branch in Santa Barbara has the ambiance factor down as well.

The Hungry Cat
1134 Chapala St
Santa Barbara, CA 93101
(805) 884-4701
www.thehungrycat.com

My mom and the Meyer lemon tree.

I recently noticed I have a Meyer lemon tree growing in my yard. I'm not as dense as that makes me sound. I just moved into a new house a few months ago that has a lot of grounds and quite a few nooks and crannies. I did notice the lemon tree at first but as it's not really in my daily path, kind of forgot about it. Then one day I needed a lemon and remembered... the lemon tree! Then when I went out to it I looked closely and saw it was Meyer lemon tree. I was elated! Even more exciting is that right now is smack in the middle of Meyer lemon season. Bliss. Big, grandiose plans, ideas churning, thinking cap on. Meyer lemon ice cream or Meyer lemon tart a la Alice Waters? A steamed artichoke with a Meyer lemon aioli? Meyer lemonade? 

So many choices. So many lemons.
 
Before I could realize this romantic notion of spending two days straight dressed in my cozies, listening to jazz in the kitchen, with the lemons and my elaborate plans for them, my mom came to town. Not to make Mom coming to town sound ominous in any way - she actually loves to cook and bake and we even had plans to bake bread while she was here.
After settling in, some shopping, and some Chateau Marmont time we hit the Sunday market and settled in for a day of KITCHEN.
 
On a very rainy Sunday night, with myself having suddenly fallen all sicky, icky, coldy and fluey (and I never get sick, seriously) we baked the bread which turned out fantastic, I prepared bacon-wrapped dates for noshing, some sauteed kale, and a roast chicken with fennel and Meyer lemon. Some friends flitted in and out during the cooking and eating (everyone loves my mom) and we all had a snuggly, cozy, rainy, Sunday night filled with food, friends and family. Everything was delicious.
 
After Mom left to return home (with the bug she caught from me) I threw what was left of the chicken into a pot and made a wonderful stock that put me on the path to wellness. This dish is truly one that keeps on giving.

Roast Chicken with Meyer lemons

Total time: 1 hour, 10 minutes

Ingredients
1 small chicken (3 1/2 lbs), washed and dried
4 Meyer lemons, divided
2 tsps. kosher salt
3 medium fennel bulbs, trimmed and sliced thinly crosswise
8 garlic cloves, peeled and halved
2 Tbsps. olive oil
Black pepper

1. About an hour ahead, remove the chicken from the refrigerator and bring to room temperature.

2. Heat the oven to 425 degrees. Slice 2 of the lemons paper thin with a knife or a mandoline. With your fingers, carefully loosen the skin from the meat on the bird. Insert 5 or 6 lemon slices underneath the skin. Put any unused slices and the ends of the lemons into the cavity, and rub the salt over the chicken.

3. Cut the remaining 2 lemons into 8 wedges and scatter them in the bottom of a shallow baking pan with the fennel and garlic. Place the chicken on top of the fruit and vegetableness. Pour the olive oil over the bird, then season with a few grinds of black pepper.

4. Roast chicken in the oven for 30 minutes, then lower the heat to 350 degrees and roast for about 20 minutes longer, or until the meat is firm, the skin is golden and the juices run clear (a thermometer placed into the thickest part of the bird will register 180 degrees); the vegetables and fruit will have started to caramelize.

5. Let rest 15 minutes, then serve with the roasted lemons and fennel.


"We are living in a world today where lemonade is made from artificial flavors and furniture polish is made from real lemons." ~Alfred E. Newman

Koraku Restaurant

Dixon and I had a hankering for some Japanese noodles last week. We headed to Little Tokyo where we were really excited to try out Daikokuya. Sadly, they were closed that evening to celebrate the Japanese New Year. We poked our heads in a little saloon a couple of doors down to have some sake, regroup, and perhaps get some advice from the locals for a backup plan. We were advised to check out Koraku for the ramen - and on our way we went.

Before I continue let me state that neither Dixon nor myself are connoisseurs of ramen world but are rather beginning our exploration and education.
I quite liked the interior and it's ambiance - open kitchen, orange, vinyl booths, 70's wood paneling - a little dingy and totally charming.
 
We started with the hakusai tsukemono (Japanese style pickled nappa cabbage) ($2.75) to start followed by the goyza ($4.25). The hakusai tsukemono was refreshing, crisp and perfectly pickled in a light rice vinegar. The gyoza were tasty but a little oily - I prefer them a bit crispier.
 

hakusai tsukemono


gyoza

My big-bowl-of-noodles-choice was the shoyu ramen. The ramen is in pork based soy sauce soup with seasoned bamboo shoots, a piece of hard boiled egg, bean sprouts and two slices of pork. The ramen itself was a decent and chewy egg noodle that was absolutely delicious. The broth was somewhat uninteresting and one dimensional.

 
Dixon however hit gold with his choice, the gekikara miso yasai ramen ($8.25). Full of beef, egg shreds and vegetables, this was hearty and spicy - just the right amount of burn while the miso provided a velvet texture.



We had some cold sake and a big Sapporo with our meal - and a hundred glasses of water with Dixon's dish! The servers were sweet, responsive and helpful, the food came out swiftly, the prices were right. I was pleasantly surprised with our almost - arbitrary restaurant selection this evening and anticipate returning to explore more of the items on the menu.

Take note:
They are open until 3am
Cash only

Koraku Restaurant
314 E. 2nd St.
Los Angeles 90013
(213)687-7178

I miss the South right now, y'all.

Although I now tout myself as a Southern Californian I sometimes forget that I was born and raised in the South - the Capital of the Confederacy, the Old Dominion - Richmond, Virginia. 

I was raised by two culinary talents, both with their distinct (and very disparate) kitchen super powers. While Dad embraced the 80's haute cuisine scene with meals like seared swordfish steaks over broken rice and schezwan string beans , Mom went the way of the almost Asian macrobiotic. Honestly I don't even know what was in some of those dishes of hers - I know we jokingly referred to some item as "babydoll" as it seemed similar in texture to the rubber from which dolls are made, and "wet dog" - bulgar. But don't get me wrong, there were excellent things too. She is a fantastic cook and baker (and it is near impossible to be both).
 
All of their fads aside they both had their Southern staples passed down from generations - people who turned cooking from hard work to creative work. It's also interesting to note that the South created the only cuisine in this country.
 
Sometimes I miss the comfort of home and my family - eating fresh mint on the front stoop with Dad while he waters the yard and chats with the neighbors in the Spring, the most perfect Falls with all the trees turning to bright oranges, reds and yellows in symphonic unison, Winters waking up to a pink sky in the middle of the night and knowing I will awaken to snow in the morning (no school!), late-Summer afternoon thunderstorms and cicadas singing for the sunset, tubing down the James River, Hanover tomatoes, real barbecue (Los Angeles just can't seem to get it right)... Wow. 

This is when I can call either of them for recipes for cheese grits, tomato aspic, oyster stew, pimiento cheese, deviled eggs, fried chicken livers, creamed chipped beef on toast, sausage biscuits, Brunswick stew, Aunt Babe's mashed potatoes, crab cakes, spoon bread, apple crisp, etc., all of which they are able to tell me right off the top of their heads. I imagine it gives them as much pleasure sharing these recipes, their history and pride as it does for me to prepare and eat them.


Oyster Stew:
 
4 Servings

A couple of weeks ago I called both Mom and Dad within an hour of each other for this recipe. As expected they were each prepared to relay it to me, and of course they differed ever so slightly. Mom kept it pretty simple and succinct while Dad had to throw brie and worcestershire sauce in. This is the version I prepared with a few of my own ideas. It turned out to be fantastic.
Serve with crusty bread and a smooth, hearty red wine, perhaps a Margaux or a Bordeaux.

4 tablespoons butter
2 pints shucked oysters including their liquor
1 teaspoon grated onion (I used a zester to almost liquify the onion)
1/4 cup of brie (with the rind removed)
1 1/2 cups milk
1/2 cup cream
1 tablespoon of cream or medium-dry sherry
1/2 teaspoon salt
a dash of worcestershire sauce
1/2 teaspoon white pepper
1 tablespoon finely chopped parsley (or chives)

In a heavy pot over medium-low heat saute onion in butter.

Add oysters with their liquor, milk, cream, sherry, worcestershire sauce, salt and pepper. 

Add brie in small pieces and stir until it dissolves.
 
When the oysters float, the butter has melted and the milk and cream are hot.

Garnish with parsley or chives and serve immediately.


Printable Recipe

"What is patriotism but the love of the food one ate as a child?" ~Lin Yutang

Let's talk some Savoy Cabbage

I was listening to Good Food this morning on KCRW and was very interested in Mark Peel's (chef-owner of Campanile restaurant) chat about the super-in-season-right-now, Savoy Cabbage.

Idea #1. He slices the cabbage into ribbons, chiffonade style, about the slice of cole slaw, and sautes it with garlic and onions in olive oil. Once it's softened, he suggests that you can add 2 quarts of chicken stock to make a soup. You can also add cubed potatoes, chopped carrots and fresh noodles.

Idea #2. If you want to eat the savoy cabbage as a side dish, saute the cabbage, onions and garlic and thin slices of apple until softened. Add salt and pepper to taste.
(Or even try the recipe with kale...)
One can find savoy cabbage and other fresh and in-season delectables at the Hollywood Farmer's Market or any of the other great markets around town.

* Fun fact time!
What distinguishes California's certified farmers’ markets from supermarkets is that the former are operated in accordance with regulations established in 1977 by the California Department of Food and Agriculture. In order to pass muster as a CFM, the county agricultural commissioner must certify that farmers sell only agricultural products they grow themselves. Certification does not imply produce is organic, though some CFMs may tout “organically grown” produce and some, like the Berkeley CFM, pride themselves on their abundance of organic produce. In California, the use of the term organic is restricted by law to crops grown on lands where no synthetic pesticides or fertilizers have been applied in the previous three years.

Welcome to the Church of the Holy Cabbage. Lettuce pray. ~Author Unknown

Suehiro Cafe

My frequent dining companion, Dixon, a mutual friend of ours and I went downtown last night to see Point Break, LIVE!, the absurdist stage adaptation of the 1992 Keanu Reeves/Patrick Swayze extravaganza (don't ask).
We figured since we were downtown and it was a bit later than than the normal dinner hour that Suehiro Cafe was the perfect choice. I had been to Suehiro a handful of times but not in several years. I would find myself there late at night with a group of people after a couple of cocktails and an art opening or two. My memories of it were good but blurry to say the least.
Suehiro is essentially a diner with vinyl booths, be-aproned waitresses and simple, Japanese comfort food. It draws a loyal group--Little Tokyo locals, museum/Gallery Row patrons, artists from the loft districts nearby, and even the post bar-closing crowd (Suehiro is open until 1am during the week and until 3am on the weekends). There are usually one or two people waiting in front of the Please Wait to be Seated sign but tables turn quickly, there is often room at the bar, and the two servers regularly working are very fast, kind and accommodating.

Last night I ordered the Okonomi Plate ($9.60) which is served with rice and miso soup. With this dish one may select one item from three lists.
For example:

Column A: -Ginger Beef -Pork or Chicken Katsu -Broiled Saba (Mackerel) or Sanma (Saury)
Column B: -Gyoza -Shumai -Edamame or Natto
Column C: -Cold Tofu -Lightly Boiled Spinach -Two Eggs Over Easy

I chose the broiled Saba, shumai and cold tofu. It was presented on an actual compartmentalized cafeteria-like plate along with macaroni salad and a shredded cabbage salad.
The miso soup was very well executed with abura-age -- a nice surprise to the soft tofu one normally finds in this dish. My Saba was a definite highlight, marinated in soy glaze and broiled masterfully. I just love the saturated, crispy under skin paired up with a dollop of daikon. The cold tofu was exactly what one would expect and did not disappoint. I only craved a bit more saltiness in it, perhaps some ponzu or soy. It's topped with grated ginger, green onion and bonito flakes. Simple. Absolute. The shumai was steamed superbly and very tender but was wholly unremarkable in my opinion. I found that adding a tiny drop of the extremely spicy mustard helped bring some intrigue to it. The two salads that accompany the meal are very strange, unexpected and fun. I am admittedly a big macaroni salad fan and somehow - in this wacky little Japanese diner - this wacky little accoutrement is a delicious adornment in it's ideal place.
Dixon ordered the Combination Plate of sashimi and tempura ($14.00). The tempura was deftly prepared - light and crisp; melted in my mouth. He particularly liked the pepper. The sashimi is cut thick, and is very fresh (it is "chef's choice" but always tuna). This is also served with miso soup, rice, shredded cabbage salad, macaroni salad, daikon, pickled cucumber, and your choice of ice cream for dessert. We opted for both the green tea and red bean.
Our friend also ordered the Combination plate but with chicken teriyaki and sashimi and was very much pleased. We paired our meal with a couple of large Sapporos as they offer a large beer and sake selection. People are always fond of their Ramune as well (A 7Up like soda, served in a glass bottle with a marble in it).
Lamentably, I forgot to order the House Special - a sweet miso based stir-fry of eggplant and green pepper which is reputed to be a major hit. It's slightly premature to be writing this review never having had the noodles, which ostensibly make Suehiro a destination point for many. The menu offers soba, udon, unagidon, shoyu ramen, katsu curry, suriyaki, gyoza, and much more. I've even heard rumor that they've got the best katsu-don found outside of Japan. I promise to visit again very soon and order a cross section of said items with words to follow. With prices like theirs I could probably order it all and still not break the bank.
Suehiro has good food, a homey feel, solid service and amazing value. I don't have a Japanese mommy, but if so I imagine the food would be like this.

Suehiro Cafe
337 E. First St.
(213) 626-9132

Michael Pollan Speaks!

How very special that Michael Pollan will be speaking at University of California, Santa Barbara on Thursday, January 17, 2008 @ 8:00 PM, Campbell Hall. I think my mom and I will be attending while she's visiting me here in sunny California for a spell. Let's all go!

Michael Pollan is the author of In Defense of Food: An Eater’s Manifesto, to be published in January 2008 by The Penguin Press. His previous books include The Omnivore's Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals, named one of the ten best books of 2006 by the New York Times and the Washington Post; The Botany of Desire; Second Nature; and A Place of My Own, pictured here. Pollan is a contributing writer to the New York Times Magazine and is a Knight Professor of Journalism at UC Berkeley.

Click here for information and to buy tickets

Ricotta Puddings with Glazed Rhubarb

So I have made this dish once before when I was hell bent on using every ounce of the rhubarb (which I had never cooked with before) that I had purchased at the farmer's market. I have to say that out of the multiple rhubarb variations I tinkered with, including a balsamic rhubarb compote, this was my biggest success. I plan on revisiting it around April when the rhubarb season returns.

Active time: 15 min Start to finish: 1 hr

Servings: Makes 6 dessert servings.

You will need a muffin pan (preferably nonstick) with 6 (1/2-cup) muffin cups

Ingredients:

For puddings:
1 cup whole-milk ricotta (8 3/4 oz)
1 whole large egg plus 1 large yolk
1/4 cup sour cream
2 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons heavy cream
2 tablespoons mild honey
1/8 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon finely grated fresh lemon zest

For glazed rhubarb:
31/2 tablespoons sugar
1/2 teaspoon cornstarch
1/2 lb fresh rhubarb stalks (about 2), cut diagonally into 1/4-inch-thick slices

Preparation
Make pudding batter:
Put oven rack in middle position and preheat oven to 325°F. Lightly oil muffin cups.

Blend together all pudding ingredients in a blender until smooth, then divide batter among muffin cups.

Prepare rhubarb:
Stir together sugar and cornstarch in a 9- to 10-inch glass or ceramic pie plate. Add rhubarb and toss to coat, then spread in one layer.

Bake puddings and rhubarb:
Bake puddings and rhubarb, side by side, carefully turning rhubarb over once halfway through cooking, until puddings are just set and edges are pale golden, 35 to 45 minutes. Remove puddings and rhubarb from oven at the same time. Set rhubarb aside and cool puddings in muffin pan on a rack 5 minutes (puddings will sink slightly).

Run a thin knife around edge of each pudding, then invert a platter over pan and invert puddings onto platter. Transfer puddings, right side up, to plates and serve topped with rhubarb and its juices.

Scarlet Runner Bean Salad

Let me begin by stating that I used dried beans instead of fresh (the recipe calls for fresh if you can find them). I soaked them for three days and then simmered them in water, salt, chicken stock and a chilé de arbol for the better part of a day before allowing them to cool, peeling them, and splitting them lengthwise. After all of this tedium, they still were not the tender creatures I had anticipated. 

But I had never dealt with the scarlet runner bean before. If you can't find this variety of bean I suggest cannellini beans. (Dixon LOVED this recipe!)

This turned out to be pretty tasty. Very fresh and summery. I would serve it with some olives, a crust of bread, and a glass of crisp, sauvignon blanc (I recommend the Brander, 2006 Sauvignon Blanc, Santa Ynez Valley).

4 Servings

Ingredients

1 lb scarlet runner beans
1/2 md red onion; thinly sliced
1 cup of cherry tomatoes, cut in half
1 bunch of watercress
3 cloves garlic; minced
6 tb olive oil
2 tb red wine vinegar
2 ts balsamic vinegar
juice of 1/2 of a lemon
1/2 ts coarse sea salt
1/2 ts freshly ground black pepper
1 ts prepared mustard

Wash the beans, snap off the ends, and French-cut into lengthwise strips. Steam briefly, until just tender; drain thoroughly, and place in a large bowl with the onion, tomatoes, watercress and garlic. Toss well. Combine the remaining ingredients to make a dressing. Pour over the beans, toss well, and refrigerate for an hour or two before serving to blend flavors.

Printable Recipe

A|O|C - I still love you.

Let me begin by stating that AOC has been one of my top favorite restaurants in LA since it opened its doors in 2002. Co-owned by Lucques partners Suzanne Goin and Caroline Styne, AOC takes its name from appellation d'origine controlée, the French system governing the origin and authenticity of wines as well as regional foods of quality. The menu (manned by chef Goin) consists of Mediterranean small plates and the wine list (overseen by wine guru and front of the house overseer, Styne) boasts over 50 by the glass in their cruvinet.

I revisited AOC last week with Dixon after at least a six month absence. We always like to sit at the wine bar where we can go at it a bit more casually, graze, taste lots of wines and chat with the knowledgeable and conversant bartenders.

The menu is divided into six sections.
It is suggested that you should order approximately three dishes per person.

Cheese:
One cheese ($5)
Three cheese ($15)
Five cheese ($25)
There are 4 or 5 selections of each; goat, sheep, cow, and blue.
Charcuterie
Salads
Fish
Meat
From the wood burning oven

Upon being seated one is presented with bread served with harissa and olives. The harissa is wonderful and one of Goin's signature elements, chile de arbol is a prominent accent.
To get started we ordered the Echo Mountain Rogue Creamery Blue from Oregon and the roasted dates, stuffed with parmesan and wrapped in bacon ($6). The cheese was divine - firm, smooth, earthy and subtle. The dates, an ordering staple no matter the season, are split, pitted and stuffed with a tiny wedge of Parmesan, then tightly mummified with bacon. They are served hot, hot, hot, so try to be patient or you won't be able to taste the remainder of your meal. Even if you do burn your tongue these dates are absolutely sublime - crisp, smoky, salty, and sticky-sweet. So far, everything is divine.

Next we selected the foie gras terrine with quince jam ($21). I admittedly love, love, love some foie gras. Man, do I love it. Can't get enough. With absolutely no rancor to their charcutier's skill (whom I hold in great admiration) I admittedly was underwhelmed. The terrine, while perfectly pink, billowy and succulent - I found to be overly smothered with the quince jam.

The Rabbit ragoût with dijon, chestnuts and tarragon ($15) actually gave cause for me, and the normally appeased (and always sated), Dixon, to raise our eyebrows and question. My main beef was the fact that just about the only stand out flavor in this dish was mustard. It was seemingly a dish consisting of (not awesomely braised) rabbit swimming in watery mustard. I couldn't even necessarily decipher the chestnuts and other delectables in there. We asked our server the official definition of ragout as we thought we may have been mis-educated somewhere along the way. I have to assume this was just a bizzare, one-time, oopsy. I do know Suzanne Goin was not in the kitchen that night...
The chanterelles, ricotta gnocchi and sherry cream ($15) showed up last and were good but not exceptionally memorable. I love chanterelles. I love sherry. The gnocchi were a wee bit more al dente than I would have preferred. No big deal. It was good enough but maybe just an unfortunate closer to the meal.

Don't get me wrong, I love AOC. Forget Clive Owen - I sweat Suzanne Goin (well, and Clive Owen, but you get the point). I dream about her Brussels Sprouts With Pancetta and Toasted Bread Crumbs, the haricots verts with hazelnuts, proscuitto and burrata, the pancetta-wrapped trout with grapes and sorrel, braised pork cheeks with fava bean pesto, and anything she does with skirt steak. I have her cookbook (Sunday Suppers at Lucques) and refer to it often. I respect her creativity, her technique, her love and respect for food and the land from which it comes, and how it all arrives out on the plate in front of me. She is the consummate artist.
I will never stop going to AOC or Lucques for that matter. This was just unfortunately an off night.

A|O|C
8022 W. 3rd St.
Los Angeles, CA 90048
(323) 653-6359