Out Like a Lamb.

The end of March is nigh, and thus is Easter. Passover is happening right now. It's a big time for a lot of people. And plants. Plants are having a blast right now. And people are having a blast with plants. Or, at least, Fred and I are.

When we last spoke, I had mentioned having chatted around to get a feel as to what food things meant to people with regard to Easter. I ended up settling on chocolate and lamb, though not necessarily together – which might not be a bad idea, come to think of it. So I shared a chocolate recipe.

So you probably know where we will be going with this. Lambville.

Coming from completely non-religious parents, other than the Easter Bunny covertly surprising me with an Easter basket each year at my mom's house, Easter meant little else. I don't even recall a special meal. So after sifting through people's responses to my query about what Easter represented, culinarily, to them, I went about figuring out what it meant to me. And I decided to embark on the most traditional Easter supper I have ever had. First order on the agenda: order a giant leg of lamb.

I like lamb just fine, now, but as a child it unnerved me a little. I think it was just the gamey-ness of the meat. It wasn't on the dinner table too often at home, but I know Dad loved it. He always ordered it at the Greek restaurant in our neighborhood. He loved their Lamb Guvetsi.

As I mentioned, years ago, like 2005, I heard Nigella Lawson interviewedon NPR around this time of year. She was promoting her then new book, Feast, a cookbook devoted primarily to celebrations, holidays and entertaining. I vividly recall her discussing her favorite Easter meal, and the great detail with which she described a saffron roasted leg of lamb and some sticky, crispy garlic potatoes. Obviously it stuck with me if eight years later that was the first thing to pop into my head when I decided to make my first, big Easter dinner. So I started planning the menu, the flowers, the dining room look, and called some friends.

Easter dinner was so happening.

Two days before the event I put the lamb in its marinade and refrigerated it. The day before, while Fred went out to get all of our groceries, flowers and the like, I poked around on the computer to find out why lamb in the Spring, and why lamb on Easter. Why throughout the entire world the most popular Easter symbol is the lamb. I'm sure, as usual in this department, everyone else already knows this stuff, but I'm new here.

The roast lamb dinner that many eat on Easter Sunday goes back earlier than Easter to the first Passover of the Jewish people. The sacrificial lamb was roasted and eaten, together with unleavened bread and bitter herbs (a Seder) in hopes that the angel of God would pass over their homes and bring no harm. As Hebrews converted to Christianity, they naturally brought along their traditions with them. The Christians often refer to Jesus as The Lamb of God. Thus, the traditions merged.

In the 7th century the Benedictine monks wrote a prayer for the blessing of lambs.

A few hundred years later the pope adopted it and a whole roasted lamb became the feature of the Pope's Easter Dinner, and has been ever since.

I wasn't going to roast a whole lamb, of course. Just one of its legs.

Now this lamb recipe involved saffron, which I absolutely love. I know a lot of people do not, however. It seems to be one of those ingredients like cilantro: people either love it or hate it. And I understand. Also, like cilantro, it has an unmistakable, very distinct aroma and taste. The thin, delicate, muted red hair-like strands are fragrant, floral, earthy, and honey-like with a bit of bitterness. Saffron also happens to be the most expensive spice in the world. Use too much and that will be the only thing you take away from that dish. With saffron, the words 'a little goes a long way' have never been more accurate. A little dab will do ya.

It's no surprise that you will find a wealth of recipes with saffron and lamb together. Kind of like chocolate and peanut butter, they just make sense. They are also both prominent elements in a lot of Middle-Eastern cuisine. Actually, it's funny, lamb takes me back to eating Greek food with my dad, and I used Greek saffron with my Easter lamb.

Yesterday, on the event of my Easter dinner celebration, once the lamb went into the oven after two days of marinating, I went about the décor of the dining room. I hand-picked each and every piece of silverware, plate and glass, dug through the linens to find the right napkins – I went for the fancies – and began meticulously arranging the bundles of daffodils and hyancinths into little vintage creamers and jelly jars while listening to my go-to soothing sounds: Explosions in the Sky. All the while the house was filling up with the entrancing smell of lamb, lemon and garlic fusing together in the oven. I dare say it was beginning to smell like Easter. Or, at least, really, really good. The air smelled like family and friends and the promise of festivity and future fond memories.

Everything was coming together perfectly. The food was on schedule, the room looked great, I had the perfect wines; some lovely rosés from a tasting the day before, and just moments before the guests arrived, as I was lighting the candles, Fred and I got our Easter baskets in the mail! I guess the Easter Bunny is trying to help out the US Post Office in their time of need... Nevertheless, that took care of dessert; Cadbury Creme Eggs!

As we all sat down to the table, we raised our glasses of rosé and toasted to a happy Easter. And as I looked around the room, I took stock. The smiling faces of my friends, the table looked beauteous, the food was delicious, the wine went perfectly with the saffrony lamb, the flowers smelled wonderful, and best of all we were all so happy to be with each other. Good friends, together, on our Easter, eating, drinking, smiling, talking, sharing Easter memories and laughter.

SAFFRON ROAST LAMB WITH STICKY GARLIC POTATOES

(recipe adapted from Nigella Lawson's book, Feast)

Serves 6

1 leg of lamb (4.5 lbs)

1/3 cup olive oil

3 cloves garlic, bruised

6 scallions

2 bay leaves

juice of 1 lemon

small bunch mint, 1 1/2 oz including stalks, torn roughly makes 1 cup

1/2 teaspoon saffron threads, steeped in 1 cup very hot water

1/3 cup rosé wine

 Put the lamb in a large freezer bag, pour over the olive oil and then throw in the garlic, trimmed scallions and bay leaves, squeeze in the lemon juice and throw in the squeezed-out lemon halves too, then add the torn-up bunch of mint. Seal the bag and marinate in the fridge overnight.

Bring the lamb to room temperature before you even think of putting it in the oven, and preheat that to 425 degrees F when you take the lamb out of the fridge.

Pour the entire contents of the freezer bag into a roasting pan and roast for about 20 minutes a pound, or until the lamb is cooked a perfect, à point pink; you will just have to pierce it with the knife to see. Just before the lamb is due to come out of the oven, put the saffron strands in a measuring cup and pour over the hot water so that it can get on with steeping.

Remove the lamb to a wooden carving board to rest. Pick out the lemon rinds, and then place the roasting pan on the stove over medium heat, and stir until it starts bubbling. Stir in the saffron in its water and add 1/3 cup rosé – tasting for seasoning as you go – as needed to let this bubble into a small amount of ungloopy gravy. 

Carve the lamb on to a large warmed plate and strain the saffrony juices, stirring in any liquid first from the carving board, over the pink meat.

Read the sticky garlic potato recipe now so that you can coordinate your movements. And, to go with, I'd want no more than a bowl of green peas, turned in some butter.

STICKY GARLIC POTATOES

Serves 6

1 1/2 lbs small fingerling potatoes

8 cloves garlic (more if you like)

1/2 cup olive or other vegetable oil 

Coarse salt & freshly cracked pepper to taste.

Bring a saucepan of water to the boil and add some salt, add the potatoes and cook for 30 minutes. Drain, and put back into the dry pan.

Peel the garlic cloves by squishing with the flat of a knife so that they bruise slightly and the skin slips off. Put them in the dry pan with the potatoes, and then bash potatoes and garlic  so they are cracked and split. You can do this ahead and leave them in the pan – though with the lid off, so that they don’t get watery – until you want to roast them.

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F and slip a roasting pan in to heat up at the same time. Once the oven’s hot, pour in the oil and let it, in turn, heat up for 10 minutes.

Carefully tip the potatoes and garlic into the hot oil and cook for 15 minutes. Turn the potatoes over and then give them another 15 minutes. 

Salt & pepper to taste.

Serve on a platter with the lamb.

Printable recipe.

One year ago: Rustic Cremini Mushroom Soup with Chives & Basil Oil
Two years ago: Nutter Butter Cookies
Three years ago: The Grill 'Em All Truck

Blame It On the Rain.

Yesterday was another rainy Sunday. That’s fine, really. We’ve had the driest Winter that I can recall for some time. The city, and my garden, could certainly use the moisture beating. But I’m so anxious for sunshiny days and hitting the streets on my new, extremely cool, bike (with a basket!).

When it’s chilly and it rains, especially if you’re an Angeleno, accustomed to arid, sunny days ninety percent of the time, ordinary tasks turn into intrepid endeavors: letting the dogs out, checking the mail, getting gas. I get especially miffed when I’m all out in it, physically huddled inwards, scurrying towards cover, and then that One, Humongous, Drop of Rain hits me square in the one exposed inch of my skin, on the back of my neck. It’s just a drop of rain, but it really gets my goat. It sends chills throughout my entire body.

When the weather is like this we also tend to turn inward. It beckons a fire, a crossword and a stack of magazines. Jammies and a ceramic mug of hot tea. Spontaneity is unrealistic and gatherings must be deliberate. And although I knew Sunday was going to be crazy pouring rain, I also had a couple of events I knew I wanted to attend, rain or shine.

The first engagement was a stop at La Weekend for coffee, quiche and lumples - and to support my Mom. So after sleeping in as much as we could, letting the dogs out, and checking the mail, Fred and I bundled up, scurried out to the car (during which time the One Humongous, Drop of Rain hit me square in the one exposed inch of my skin, on the back of my neck. It sent chills throughout my entire body. It got my goat.) Then, of course, we had to stop and get gas as well. And a newspaper.

But then, drenched and wilted, we arrived at La Weekend, and suddenly entered a space that restimulated our sense of smell and reminded us of color and tastes: of rich coffee and sweet pecan pie. As we peeled off our wet coats and shook off our umbrellas my mom greeted us both with a kiss. While we sipped our coffees we shared a healthy slice of quiche baked with bacon, gruyere and spinach and a lumple filled with creamy pimiento cheese. The room was warm and the air danced with jazzy sounds from the stereo. 

And a few hours later, after braving the flooded blocks of Melrose, and bad drivers with too much bravado, we arrived at our second engagement: Domaine LAfor their Rosé and oyster tasting. We weren’t even certain that it would still be happening, the rain was coming down so hard. But Fred and I opened the door to see a room filled with happy, smiling and welcoming people - everyone was full of fresh oysters and tipsy from rosé. Now, together, undistracted by the sounds of the street, the pouring rain, we were all committed to our present time. We were enlivened by community. This day, this rain had become a recognition of a season and, moreover, that we need each other.

So stuffed with wonderful snacks and wine, Fred and I went back to his house to finally turn inward. Though the rain had actually stopped and the city's skyline was crisp, clear, bright and saturated with color, we put on our cozies, cranked up the heat, and, while we worked on the crossword together, I made a soup.

I love Sundays.

Rustic Cremini Mushroom Soup with Chives & Basil Oil

Serves 6

1 large shallot, peeled and diced

3 stalks celery, chopped

3 large cloves garlic, peeled and thinly sliced

3 tablespoons bacon drippings

2 tbsp butter

1 lb cremini mushrooms, wiped cleaned, ends trimmed and thinly sliced

¼ cup cream sherry or Madeira

6 cups chicken stock

1 tbsp fresh lemon juice

salt & pepper to taste

basil oil and chopped chives for garnish

Clean the mushrooms by wiping them with a dry paper towel. Don't wash them! Separate the stems, trim off any bad parts, and coarsely chop.

Heat the bacon drippings and 1 tablespoon of the butter in a large pot. Add the shallot, garlic, celery, 1 teaspoon salt, and 1/2 teaspoon pepper and cook over medium-low heat for 10 to 15 minutes, until the vegetables are soft. Add mushrooms and continue to sauté for another 10 minutes.

Add chicken stock and cook down on medium-low heat for 30-45 minutes. Turn up the heat and add the sherry.

Using an immersion blender puree soup until smooth.

Add lemon juice, remaining butter and salt & pepper to taste. Using a sparse amount of sifted flour, thicken to your liking.

Ladle into bowls and garnish with finely chopped chives and a drizzle of basil oil.

Printable recipe

One year ago: Nutter Butter Cookies

Two Years ago: The Grill 'Em All Truck

Mozart. Music. Flowers & poetry.

 
It’s Sunday morning, we’ve just gained an hour, and it’s pouring down rain. It’s perfect. The next Dinner at Eight is creeping up and I’ve been testing recipes like it’s nobody’s business (or definitely like it’s my business). I’m very pleased with the creamy chestnut soup, though I haven’t settled on its garnish. The only problem with the soup is that I gave all my friends samples of it and completely forgot to take some to Jill so she can assess an appropriate paIring. So I’ll be making that again today.

Maggie is infusing the vodka with kabocha and acorn squash for her cocktail and Esi just dropped off her first go at the pumpkin bread pudding with bourbon-vanilla sauce. And I have made two, overly massive, rounds of the short-rib stew with mushroom and parsley dumplings. The second one pretty much nailed it. 

Save for the anxiety dream in which I told the guests the wrong date resulting in no one showing up, I think everything is on course.

It seems things are going well in my universe. Things are stable. Work is picking up, I finally caught up on Sons of Anarchy and sleep, and an old, college friend, Frampy, stopped through town for a visit. That was nice. Mostly.

But let’s get back to the stew. And the dumplings. You see, I had never made dumplings before this whole project. I didn’t really know exactly what to expect. The recipe I used is from The Colony Club Cookbook: one of the dozen old school cookbooks I brought back from my recent trip to Richmond. The recipes in this – and many of the cookbooks from this place and time – are very archaic and very, very simple. They are made for people who were already familiar with the techniques and ingredients that they require and also with how the end result should look, feel, smell, and taste. They are short and sweet.

But for someone like me, who is accustomed to Sunday Suppers at Lucques, with recipes that are pages long, these old school cookbooks are so simple that they become complex.

For instance, with this stew (recipe originally from Gloria Brahany), after searing off the short ribs in their flour mixture, I am supposed to combine four cups tomatoes, some garlic and a little Worcestershire, simmer for and hour and a half and pour over ribs. Fresh tomatoes? Canned tomatoes? This is my stock?  No red wine? No chicken or beef stock? The rest of the directions instruct me to add sliced carrot, onion, potato, and simmer for forty-five minutes. Well, that’s hardly enough time to get the veggies all soft and smushy. Where’s the bay leaf? Where’s the thyme? Hell, where’s the salt and pepper?

Apparently the good folks using this cookbook needed only some bare bones, a skeleton off of which they could riff. And it’s true, a basic beef stew is not rocket science. But what’s the point of a cookbook then, right?

So first off the lack of anything except tomato that would create liquid bemused me.  But the tomatoes quickly became a viable stock, if a bit too sweet. And too tomato-y. Also, Maggie thought that we should do mushroom and parsley dumplings rather than just parsley dumplings. Without thinking I followed the recipe for parsley dumplings and did not compensate for the amount of moisture the mushrooms would add. The dumplings fell apart if you merely looked at them too hard.

Okay. Round two. This time I began with marinating the short ribs in red wine, salt and pepper overnight. I then used about half the tomatoes but added two cups of home made chicken stock and a quarter cup of the marinade wine. I doubled the garlic, added a bay leaf, a sprig of fresh sage, a little thyme and a generous amount of salt and pepper. For the dumplings I compensated for the moisture by adding a great deal more flour, less milk and a drop more salt. I also made the dumplings considerably smaller as they poof up twice their original size once they steam up. They still looked weird to me, but after I did some research online, they looked exactly the way they were supposed to. 

Another example of how stripped down the instructions in the cookbook are. There is no description of how things are supposed to turn out.

The fact that I used LindyGrundy’s meat the second go ‘round also made a world of difference. I would have used theirs the first time but they were closed on the day I needed to get started. Of course, their meat will be used for the stew at the dinner party.

So, in the time it’s taken me to write this, the sun has come out and the sky is clear and bright blue. I’ve still got that extra hour. It’s perfect.

But we are full-on in the throes of Fall and Winter is three weeks away. The holidays are not far off. It’s time for stew.

Short Rib Stew with Mushroom & Parsley Dumplings

Serves 6

Cut 2 lbs beef short ribs into serving pieces. Marinate in red wine overnight.

Combine 1/4 cup all-purpose flour, 1 tbsp salt, 1/4 tsp pepper; dredge ribs in mixture and brown on all sides in 2 tbsp hot fat.

Combine ribs with 2 1/2 cups chopped Roma tomatoes, 2 cups chicken or beef stock, 1/4 cup marinade wine, 4 cloves of chopped garlic & 1 tbsp Worcestershire sauce. Cover and simmer for 2 hours. 

Add 4 sliced carrots, 2 medium onions, chopped, 1 medium potato, peeled and chopped, 1 bay leaf, a sprig of fresh sage and a tsp of thyme. Cover and simmer, stirring occasionally for 2 more hours.

Skim off the fat and season with salt & pepper to taste.

Mushroom & Parsley Dumplings

Sift together 1 1/2 cup sifted all-purpose flour, 2 tsp baking powder, 3/4 tsp salt. Add 1/4 cup chopped parsley and 3 tbsp chopped mushrooms. Combine 1/4 cup milk and 2 tbsp vegetable oil, and add to dry ingredients. Stir just until flour is dampened. 

Form small, large-marble sized balls atop bubbling stew. Cover tightly and bring to a boil. Reduce heat (do not lift cover!) and simmer for 15 minutes longer.

Printable Recipe

One year ago today: SugarFISH
Two years ago today: Scallops with Wild Mushroom Risotto & Rosé Fonduta

We Still Are What We Once Were. Always.

My oldest and dearest friend, Paz, visited recently. She was here for ten (10) days. I was concerned, briefly, that ten (10) days would be a skosh too long. It wasn’t. It actually wasn’t nearly long enough. Well, maybe it was just right.

Although it has been many years since we’ve spent much, or any, time together, we fell right back into our stuff. Our nicknames, catchphrases, running (for a long time now) jokes. You know, our patterns.

When people visit Los Angeles they want to have (and we want to provide them with) two things: celebrity sightings and sunshine. Fortunately for both Paz and myself, we had both. Great sightings and great weather. We ate at some fantastic restaurants but we also cooked at my house on a few occasions.

It’s interesting – while Paz was here she asked me, “So, when exactly did this whole food thing happen with you?” And so I thought. And I continued to toss the question around for quite a while. The more I thought about it, as unromantic as it sounds, I realized that I don’t believe there was a defining moment. Of course, as I’ve mentioned more than once, my parents both cooked quite a bit and I did a lot of cooking and learning from Dad. Then there was the food co-op in college in which Paz was a major player.  And then there was the Atlanta period after college when Paz and I lived together on and off for about six years. This was a time when we had little to no money; certainly none to spend on eating out a whole bunch.  Even more rare was a fancy dining out night. We cooked. A lot. But it wasn’t like back home, with our parents. And it wasn’t like college in our food co-op with our friends. We cooked because we needed to eat – breakfast, lunch and dinner. And so we experimented. We flexed. I learned about dishes from her past, like tostones, tortilla de papas, and obviously her world famous rice and beans. I showed her dishes from mine, like broccoli and cheese sauce, creamy mushroom soup, rice pilaf and scallops and shrimp over linguine with baked feta. I feel like there was a lot of stir fry action as well.

And then it hit me – maybe the Atlanta era wasn’t the defining moment of all things food for me, but I sure would say that it was the defining moment for me, the cook. The cook that cooked my own meals, cooked for other people, cooked with people. The me that found my footing in the kitchen.

How about that for an answer, Paz?

So, of course, while Paz was here we had a couple of pretty fantastic meals that we collaborated on, in my kitchen, or in this case, grill. In keeping up with Paz over the past year or so, when we would chat on the phone, or text, or what have you, we would often share our culinary exploits with one another. Some of hers included cooking Gassy Larry (a lobster), and a whole snapper she named Charles. No, I don’t know why on either count. You should hear the cornucopia of names she’s coined for me.

So, needless to say, I was pretty geeked to get back in the kitchen with her after a decade or more.

The recipe I am sharing with you here is from a part of a magnificent dinner we made one night during her visit. This was a meal that we collaborated on in every way, from conception to execution to consumption. Besides Paz deciding that she was Bobby Flay in the grill mastery department (insert eye rolling here), she also found an alluring recipe for a Meyer lemon relish. She was pretty psyched about all the produce that we are fortunate enough to have here and was particularly interested in the Meyer lemon (always a favorite of mine). Although the recipe suggested it be served with pork belly or some such thing, we thought it would work beautifully with a mesquite-grilled Cornish game hen (grilling courtesy of Paz Bobby Flay).

 

We Bobby also grilled some fennel and onions, and I did up my stellar sautéed broccolini. We had a potato but Ms. Flay didn’t get that one quite right in time for the rest of the meal. We dined out on the patio, under the stars, and paired the meal with a luscious Donkey and Goat red wine blend (courtesy of Domaine LA) among a number of, ahem, other wines.

What a beautiful meal and what a beautiful night. Yep, we covered a lot in our ten (10) days together here in sunny California. What’s crazy is how much more there was to cover. There is just not enough time in the day, you know? But as sad as I was to see her and her little rolly suitcase walk out of my car and into the airport, I also felt really good. And I still do. Because rather than it seeming like we are thousands of miles apart, I feel like, now, we’re right next to each other again. After all these years here in LA figuring out who and what I am, as this little fish in this big sea, along comes one of the few things that reminds me exactly who and what that is. And now I see it’s never changed. And nothing can change it. That and it - is Me. 

And, I guess nothing can change our friendship either. And this makes me soften. This makes my heart swell. This makes me smile. And for this, Paz, I thank you and I love you. Always.

Not too much as changed from us, 15 years ago.

 Meyer Lemon Relish 

Recipe adapted from Food and Wine magazine, May, 2011

Makes about 1 cup

Ingredients

1 large Meyer lemon—peeled, peel very thinly sliced
1 shallot—1/2 minced, 1/2 very thinly sliced
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 tablespoon orange muscat champagne vinegar (you can also use white wine vinegar)
1 garlic clove, minced
2 tablespoons minced chives 

1 tablespoon chopped mint
1 tablespoon finely chopped parsley
1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil
Pinch of crushed red pepper
Salt and freshly ground black pepper 

Directions

Finely chop the lemon pulp, discarding any seeds, and transfer to a bowl. Add the lemon peel, minced and sliced shallot, lemon juice, vinegar, garlic, chives, mint, parsley, olive oil and crushed red pepper to the bowl. Season with salt and pepper and serve.
 

*The relish can be refrigerated for up to 3 days.

34. Get Your Lardon at Domaine LA’s Second Tasting

Note the ominous look of the sky with the ocean layer rolling in. I love it.

A week ago, last Sunday, along with my usual posse, I attended Domaine LA’s second wine tasting. This one was structured a little differently than the first, and all for the better in my humble opinion. First, it was scheduled a couple of hours later in the day: from 4-7pm. This seems a wiser time frame than from 2-4pm, as it enables people to settle into their evening a bit and have a few more sips. I’m sure you get the idea. Additionally, there were nine wines to taste as opposed to three: four whites and five reds ($15). Another very cool element to this affair was that the wine makers were in the house, pouring and chatting. And did I mention that the Get Your Lardon truck was there?!

This was considerably more populated and lively than the first one – which is saying a lot since the first one was pretty spirited as well. And so along with Maggie, Chris, Doug and I welcomed Wine O’Clock.

White wines:

Domaine de la Pepiere, Muscadet de Sevre et Maine Sur Lie, 2009 (Melon de Bourgogne is the grape, appellation is Muscadet-Sevre-et-Maine (Poured from a magnum) About this wine, Jill says, “Many people assume the grape is Muscadet but it's not.” This was actually my favorites of the whites. I have become a big fan of the Muscadets since my trip to France a few years back.

Peillot Altesse de Montagnieu Bugey, France, 2009 (Altesse is the grape)

Alice & Olivier de Moor Bourgogne, Chitry, 2008 (100% Chardonnay, from very close to Chablis)

Mayr Nusserhoff Blaterle, Sudtirol Vino de Tavola (2008 -- bottle has a code to indicate this even though the wine is not legally vintage dated)

Red wines:

Thierry Puzelat Le Tel Quel, Loire Valley  (2009 -- but as with the Blaterle this is a Vin de Table, so not vintage dated but this does come from the 09 vintage)

Cascina Tavijn Ruche di Castagnole, Monferrato, 2009 (Ruche is the grape) This one was my favorite of all of the wines I tasted. Maggie and I actually bought a few bottles to take home with us.

Eric Texier Cotes du Rhone Vaison-La-Romaine, 2007 (100% Grenache)

Arianna Occhipinti SP68, IGT Sicilia, 2009 (blend of Frappato and Nero d'Avola)

Jean-Paul Brun Terres Dorres, Beaujolais L'Ancien, 2009 (100% Gamay) 

The structure of this tasting was very casual. You could pretty much begin and end in whatever direction you desired. Everyone was everywhere. Everyone was happy. Kudos, again, Jill!

Let us now talk bacon.

I have been really, really excited to sink my teeth into the Get Your Lardon truck. They’re one of the newest kids on the block, but have still managed to hit the streets with a lot of fanfare. I mean, who doesn’t like bacon? Hell, one of the girls at the tasting who claimed to be a vegetarian “most of the time” still housed the Frisee Lardon Sandwich and the Lark Brownie in a New York minute.

And, as I always say, that’s why they call it bacon.

I was introduced to Get Your Lardon at Thrillist’s Best of the Food Truck Rally and sampled their Baco (pronounced like Taco): Potatoes and Cheddar in a Bacon Shell Served with Horseradish-Bacon Sour Cream ($4). It was essentially a deconstructed baked potato taco with the bacon literally serving as as the taco shell. It was divine and the perfect food to eat on the move. I had high hopes for everything else on the menu.

After we had pretty much finished the tasting Maggie excitedly raced out to the truck to gather up our bacon-filled supplies. Upon her return, she glowed with a smug comfort as she carted in what looked like one-of-everything. She even had a sticker with a star on her hand to symbolize her claim on the last Bacone the truck had to offer. Score!

So here we go.

The Bacone: 3 Strips of Bacon, rotating inclusions ($4) We had duck, boar and hickory smoked. The duck was both of our favorites. It was less fatty than the others and had a wonderful, almost jerky-like texture. The boar was great, but certainly the fattiest (not a problem if you’re bacon, of course). The hickory smoked is exactly what you’d want and expect it to be. Doug thought, “The cone of bacon was fun. I was surprised by how I couldn't tell the wild boar from the pork.”

 Note the "last Bacone" badge on Maggie's hand.

The Frisee Lardon Sandwich with a Fried Egg and Vinaigrette on Toasted Brioche ($6): I had a couple of bites of this sandwich and Maggie pretty much ate the rest. We both liked this as well. The egg was delicately fried with a super soft yolk that ran all over the place upon the first bite. A little messy? Yes. A lot luscious and deelish? Also yes. 

Lark Brownie with Bacon Nutella Spread ($3.50): Well we have all discovered, recently, the joy and wonder of the bacon and chocolate marriage, thanks mostly to the boys at Animal. And not unlike their Bacon Chocolate Crunch Bar; this was rich, savory, sweet and tremendously satisfying.

Doug and Kendra ordered “The Lardon” BLT: Nueske’s Peppered Bacon, Butter Lettuce & Heirloom Tomatoes with St. Agur Blue Cheese Served on a Toasted Baguette ($6). I did not try this, but Doug says, “The BLT was complex with thick, crusty bread, juicy tomatoes and blue-cheese spread that set off their trademark bacon.” I do think this was one of the most visually appealing items I have seen from the menu. I mean, look at those tomatoes!

I’d say everyone was happy with Get Your Lardon. I went out to say hi to the gang in there at the end of the whole affair - they were elated with the turnout and pretty much sold out of everything.

So, another happy, wine (and bacon) fun times Sunday at Domaine LA. I see this becoming a habit...

33. The Ludo Truck at Domaine LA’s First Tasting

You know I love Sundays. Most recently I had an exceptional one. And one that involved a lot of decadence and, in varying ways, a lot of food truckness. It all began early on in the day when Maggie and I realized that the final episode of The Great Food Truck Race would be airing later that night and that they would be marathoning the season throughout the day. We had only seen the first episode and kind of forgot to keep up – so, DVR: set. Woo hoo!

12:30pm – Watching episode 2 of The Great Food Truck Race. Getting excited about food trucks, in general. Even more excited about Ludo Truck being at Domaine LA’s first wine tasting in a mere hour and a half.

1:30pm – Hell. Wanting to watch more food truckery, as the television is quite addictive, but must hustle to Domaine LA for tasting and Ludo’s truck chicken.

The scene in Domaine LA: sipping, crunching and mingling.

2pm – At Domaine LA. Right on time. Chris, Maggie and I all have our first glass of bubbly. This was a 2008 Francois Pinon Vouvray, Non-Dosé, Methode Champenoise Chenin Blanc. This was to be my favorite of the three. I actually bought a bottle to take home at the end of the affair.

2:45pm – Second tasting while keeping an ever watchful eye on the line situation out at Ludo Truck. Looks okay. Doable. Currently tasting the 2009 La Grange Tiphaine Rosé Rosa Rosam, Pet'Nat Blend of Cabernet Franc, Gamay, Grolleau, Cot (aka Malbec). Hmm. This one is not as much my style. Billed as dry read as jammy to me. I think this was Chris’ favorite, however.

3:15pm – Last pour. Number three: 2009 Vigneto Saetti Lambrusco Salamino di S.Croce. We really got bigger and bigger throughout our journey in bubbles. This one was downright esoteric. It dares you. It begins so tart you pucker, but later becomes round and soft.

Check out Jill’s words on these wines here.

3:30pm – Ludo Truck O’ Clock. The line was short. The shortest it had been all day. Go time! Oh, and did I mention that, as Maggie and I were among the first 20 people to purchase tickets to the tasting, we received little coupons that entitled us to a FREE 2-piece chicken meal with a side from Ludo-land? Yes. That mere $12 gave us three champagnes and full tummies. Jealous much?

Okay, now. Time to chat about chicken.

As you know, I’ve tasted Ludo’s fried chicken one time prior to this banner day. At the Foundry, with Eric Greenspan. I loved it. And really, today was no different. I still loved it. 

 

 

A great thing about having Maggie and Chris with me: we were able to order everything off the (already small and precise) menu. I went for a Provencal Pepitte: Juicy boneless chicken balls prepared over three days. Infused with rosemary and herbs de provence and a Chicken Strip: white meat, chicken breast strip. These both were complimented with the Piquillo pepper sauce and served with a side of Ludo Slaw: A freshly hand-sliced concoction of savoy cabbage, celery, red onion, chives, and Italian parsley leaves dressed to the nines with a jalapeño kick.

 

 

Note the moist towelettes! 

 

Both Maggie and Chris also ordered the Honey-Glazed Garlic Wings and Perfect Fries (hand-peeled and hand-cut). Maggie freaked out over those fries. In fact, I believe she said, “Upon reading the menu claiming “Perfect Fries” I was skeptical. But I would have to agree that they accomplished a pretty perfect marriage between a kettle cooked potato chip and French fry. No grease. All crunch!” 

 

 

I thought my chicken strip was just fine; clean, crunchy, succinct, if not extraordinarily exciting. I had ordered the Piquillo pepper sauce on the salesgirl’s suggestion, but I really wished I had the Béarnaise sauce for that one. But let me tell you about that Provencal Pepitte… Holy delicious! It was like all of Thanksgiving wrapped up in a little ball. It didn’t need any sauce and every element, flavor and texture just danced together brilliantly. Chris thought, “The wing was the best (and the messiest).  Delicious marinade.  I was not the only one licking my fingers after this one. No sauce needed at all." And we all loved that slaw. It was inspired and had a surprising zing to it. Cut through all the fried-ness of everything else.

 

Kudos to Ludo! (I felt I had to do that.)

 

Tipsy with lovely bubbles and full of yummy deliciousness. Sigh.

 

And the icing on our perfect Sunday, you ask? We then headed home to re-boot and watch all of The Great Food Truck Race episodes. Then we were off to a bar on Hollywood Boulevard to watch the live airing of the season finale with the posses from both Grill ‘Em All Truck and Nom Nom Truck! I congratulate both finalists for a race well played. It was also a proud moment for our fair city and our awesome truckitude.

 

And then there was sleep.