Cognizance.

In our lives, when an era passes, we are not usually cognizant of its immediate occurance. We usually reflect and are then able to qualify the beginnings and endings of these eras. Most of the time. I think.

I mean, I recall leaving for college which, in hindsight, was a clear end-of-one-era-beginning-of-another time. But all I can remember thinking is ‘get me the hell outa here.’ I’m sure for my parents it was a different feeling entirely. I imagine for them it was very bittersweet - very sad, very relieved (“We kept her alive this long, and now it’s up to her!”) and very, very aware that nothing would ever be the same again. I can’t really think of any moment in my past where I was that present and aware of that moment happening at the moment. Not even when I have fallen in love or gone through a break up. Even then I’m just feeling what’s happening at that time. I don’t think I ever recognized it as a beginning or an end of a part of my life.

And then yesterday happened. My mom moved away. And as the weeks, days, hours and minutes approached that led up to the goodbye hug, curbside at LAX, I was enormously aware, painfully cognizant that something very big was happening - something bittersweet. The end of an era. And as Fred drove me home from the airport, I cried. But when he asked me what I was feeling I realized it was not so simple to answer. I was sad, yes. But I was also happy, relieved, comforted and confident that it was the very best thing. I maybe kind of even felt a little bit like she did when we hugged goodbye before I drove away to college. Maybe?

While my mom and I have always been close, and no one could ever deny that the woman is an incredible mom, an amazing nurturer, the queen of positive reinforcement and encouragement, we have definitely had our struggles with each other.

I think it all started when I was about thirteen. I was going through puberty right about the time she started to go through menopause. Talk about a hormone extravaganza. And two women at opposite ends of the hormone extravaganza spectrum. Double yikes. And you know, mom wanted to, like, mother me so much, and Dad, Dad was always so chill. I could get away with anything at Dad’s house. You get the idea...
 

Mom and I have always talked on the phone a ton, visited each other regularly and all the normal stuff. But we have always bickered. When she moved out here I realized that we had not spent so much physical time around one another since I moved away to college. When I was eighteen.

And so, for the first three of the four years she lived here, in The City of Angels, we treated each other like anything but angels. Everyone from my friends to my Dad had to either listen to us bicker or listen to one of us talk about it. We made each other, and everyone around us, crazy, mad, sad, and exasperated. And tired. Ourselves included.

And then, about a year ago, the tide changed. I don’t know what happened, I really don’t. But we have been closer than I can ever recall. We talk (too) many times a day, run errands together, cook together, cry together, share our laughter and fears, all of it. And then she left. And I wanted her to. She needed to. And though I’m sad and all the other stuff I already said, I am so happy to know that in the time she was living out here we fixed it. We fixed us. And now we have a truly enviable mother-daughter relationship. And I already miss her so much. And I’m so glad I do.

The week before she left, she practically lived with me and Fred. And during that time we cooked a lot of food. As I’ve mentioned many times, we have very different kitchen super powers. For instance, she can bake. So this last week we made a lot of things that I normally shy away from: banana/rum/pecan bread, a honey-lemon tart with salted shortbread crust, granola, and bagels. She has been making her own bagels since forever and they are really good - crisp and lightly brown on the outside and dense and chewy on the inside. They are extraordinary when eaten within a couple of hours of coming out of the oven. By the next day they are mostly only good as anvils or anchors for large ships.

So she showed me how to make them. The funny thing is, she made the bagels while I merely kneaded the dough for about thirty-eight seconds. And even though she made them, she told everyone how proud of me she was because I did such a good job on my very first bagels. That is so Mom.

And here is how to make her bagels.

Bagels

Yield 8 medium-sized bagels

Ingredients:

2 teaspoons of active dry yeast
1 heaping tablespoon of brown sugar
1 cups of very warm water (you may need ± ¼ cup more)
3 ½ cups of bread flour or high gluten flour (will need extra for kneading)
1 ½ teaspoons of salt
1 eggwhite
Cornmeal

Optional Toppings:

Coarse salt, minced fresh garlic, minced fresh onion, poppy seeds, or sesame seeds. 

Preparation:

In 1 cup of the warm water, stir in the sugar and yeast. Let it sit for five minutes, until frothy.

Add flour and salt.

On a floured countertop, knead the dough for about 10 minutes until it is smooth and elastic. 

Roll the dough into a tubular shape and cover with damp dish towel. Let rise in a warm place for 30 minutes.

Carefully divide the dough into 8 pieces. Shape each piece into a round. Now, take a dough ball, and press it gently against the countertop (or whatever work surface you’re using) moving your hand and the ball in a circular motion pulling the dough into itself while reducing the pressure on top of the dough slightly until a perfect dough ball forms. Repeat with 7 other dough rounds.

Coat a finger in flour, and gently press your finger into the center of each dough ball to form a ring. Stretch the ring to about ⅓ the diameter of the bagel and place on a lightly oiled cookie sheet. Repeat the same step with the remaining dough.

After shaping the dough rounds and placing them on the cookie sheet, cover with a damp kitchen towel and allow to rest for 30 minutes. Meanwhile, preheat your oven to 375f.

Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Reduce the heat. Use a slotted spoon or skimmer to lower the bagels into the water, 2-3 at a time.. Keep them in for 20 seconds on each side.

If you want to top your bagels with stuff, do so as you take them out of the water, you may use the “optional toppings” (listed above) to top the bagels, but before hand, you will need to use an egg wash to get the toppings to stick before putting the bagels into the oven.

Once all the bagels have boiled, give them a light egg wash (and have been topped with your choice of toppings), transfer them to a lightly oiled baking sheet that has been dusted with cornmeal.

Bake for 30 minutes, until golden brown.

Cool on a wire rack. 

Printable recipe.

One year ago: Cheebo

Two years ago: Cremini Mushroom & Meyer Lemon Risotto

Three years ago: Chicken Pot Pie

Five years ago: Oyster Stew

SugarFISH: Would Still Be A Deal at Twice the Price.

My dad was in town visiting a couple of weeks ago so I packed our schedule with all things food. I also scheduled October’s Dinner at Eight to coincide with his visit. So maybe I was showing off a little bit.

A few days prior to his arrival I received an email from the peeps at SugarFISH, inviting me and a guest for a meal. They were having a soft opening at their new location in a prime spot downtown, a stone’s throw from Bottega Louie. They officially opened on October 28.

I have been loving Nozawa’s sushi for the better part of a decade. Heather took me and my ex to Sushi Nozawa before we even moved out here and I have returned many times hence. I had not, however, ever been to any of his SugarFISHeseses – or, for that matter, heard a whole lot about them.

Oh, something to mention: my dad doesn’t like sushi. Or so he says. Yet, only the night before, I witnessed him happily devour a healthy slab of uni – an item that even many sushi lovers are wary of. So I figured, if I show Dad the freshest, most wonderful stuff I can think of and he still “doesn’t like sushi”, then that’s fair.

And so we begin.

Based on the website images of the other locations, I was expecting a big, open, si moderne sort of atmosphere (which is just not my cup of tea). Designed by Glen Bell of DEX Studio, to reflect the neighborhood which it inhabits, this SugarFISH is actually a fairly small space. And while it is design-y and conceptual, it maintains a certain intimacy. I dug it. The sleek combination of metal, wood and concrete, along with a smattering of clear, glass, pendant lamps suspended at different lengths from the ceiling actually give the effect of being at the bottom of the ocean with air bubbles rising to the top.

Oh, and while there is a bar, there is no sushi bar at this sushi bar. The chefs are back in a proper kitchen.

Immediately upon walking in we were greeted with a warm smile by one of the founders, Lele Massimi, who actually joined us for our meal. As we dined Massimi explained to us the driving force behind the SugarFISHeseses.

I mentioned Nozawa above. What I have not yet mentioned is that which is Sushi Nozawa. Number one, it’s exceptional. The quality of the fish is almost unparalleled. It can also be prohibitively expensive, especially to go on the regular. And then there is Kazunori Nozawa himself. At times referred to as the “Sushi Nazi”, Nozawa has become both lauded and feared for his omakase-style “Trust Me” menu and his extreme disdain for requests for California Rolls, cell phone usage in his establishment and any soul expecting special treatment (insert any number of A-list celebrities here).

And so the birth of SugarFISH: a streamlined menu hinging around three fixed price options with the same quality of fish without the same price tag. Nozawa still handpicks all of the sushi as the first in line at the fish market each morning (5am!). And while Nozawa himself is not preparing your meal, his son, Tom, is manning the kitchen. Additionally all players back in that kitchen have been directly trained by Nozawa.

As my dad and I looked between the “Trust Me” ($28.50), the “Trust Me / Lite” ($19.50) and the “Nozawa” ($35-$38), Lele decided to take matters in his own hands and told our sever that we were all getting the “Nozawa” (and then some).

And so, with my small bottle of Nozawa Super Dry sake ($9), and Dad with his Sapporo Light ($5), our gracious host, and dining companion, Lele, we dove into the food…

We opened with small plates of cold, organic edamame, which was light, lovely and crisp. This was followed by big eye tuna sashimi, which was drizzled with a delicate house-made ponzu and topped with thinly sliced bright-green scallions: diaphanous. 

Our next plate had a trio of sushi items: albacore, salmon and yellowtail. These were all supple and rich with Nozawa’s signature warm, vinegary rice (which I adore). I believe these were followed by an order of halibut sushi and an order of large scallop sushi. The scallops were plump with a beautifully sweet brine.

Next up was the toro hand roll followed by the crab hand roll. Sigh. So amazing. And we were informed by Lele to EAT IMMEDIATELY! Or the smartly crisped nori would no longer be smartly crisp. Noted. Always a favorite at Sushi Nozawa, and these did not disappoint tonight.

The item following the rolls was a surprise even to me: halibut fin sashimi. This is something I have never had before. The fin was firm and toothsome and swimming in that lovely ponzu. This was followed by salmon eggs, which were like big salty, oceanic bursty bubbles.

Oy. As you may well imagine, we were getting pretty full at this point. I was anticipating my usual ‘dessert’, uni. And so Lele had a couple of orders brought to the table. I often tend to judge a sushi restaurant by their uni and this did not disappoint. The Catalina sea urchin was creamy, briny and decadently delicious. Fortunately for me, Dad was getting so full that he could only eat one of his uni. More for moi!

We capped off our culinary adventure with the more traditional sushi “dessert”, unagi. There’s was just right: sweet, savory, warm and crunchy. Ooh, la la.

And so there you have it. SugarFISH has achieved their goal. They are serving up quality fish at a deal and a half. And guess what? Dad’s a convert! He loved it!

 All food and drinks were hosted.

Photos courtesy of SugarFISH.

A Wolf By Any Other Name.

 Dining table, kitchen, guests and Carson Daly's film crew.

Last night I found myself deep within the Wolvesden; at the home of Craig Thornton. Formerly at Bouchon and currently private chef to Nicholas Cage, Thornton, or Wolvesmouth, his handle, has given birth to an underground, intimate supper club at his home, high up the Hollywood Hills. With only his “crazy friend, Cortez” to assist, Thornton serves eight guests between 12-16 courses each week.

The intriguing thing about these dinners, aside from the visually, stunning, exceptional and entirely conceptual food, is the beauty within its structure. Firstly, these are BYOB. With the exception of water, you’re on your own. Second, there are no servers. Cortez (I like this guy) does a lot of the putting down and picking up of the plates, but everyone chips in if so compelled. And really, after about course number six, one almost needs a reason to get up for a moment. Third, and most enchanting, diners are given an envelope at evening’s end to pay what they deem appropriate. It’s like the dining equivalent of the Summerhill School. It’s food communism.

This is beautiful to me. It is simultaneously the most exclusive and inclusive environment I can imagine. Plus, that view. That house. I felt like I was in a Michael Mann film.

Although I have nothing to compare it to as it my first time attending, I imagine this was an unusual night, even for the Wolf. Carson Daly’s crew was there, filming. While I found the lighting offensive, both in general and for my nighttime makeup, it was great for shooting the food. Anyway, everyone was pleasant and added an (even more) interesting vibe to the affair.

I will not do a dish by dish breakdown. Those of you who read me regularly know that would turn this post into a Tolstoy novel. Plus, I can’t think of a single person that shouldn’t/wouldn’t attend one of these dinners for themselves (not that the menu would be the same). Admittedly, I rarely even write about dining out or other people’s food all that much anyway. But I do think this evening deserves mad ink. Hell, I haven’t been able to get it out of my head all day.

I guess it’s time to discuss the food, no?

Menu.

This man loves food. Actually, this man loves a lot. But I can really see his love for food and all that that entails: the Earth, animals, vegetation, growth, energy, life, beauty, change, history, people. He is welcoming, interested and irreverent. I guess I’m telling you that I think Craig is an artist. Oof.

Let's do this.

chicken liver. poached pear. compressed asian pear. pear gel. brioche.

 

corn soup. pickled chili. crab.

clam. mussel. tobanjan. clam mussel jus.

primal. bone marrow. roasted sweetbread. pickled onion. chive.

tomato. bacon powder. bacon. baby romaine. various tomatoes. blue basil.

arctic char. beet. olive oil.  tarragon.

 pork belly. cornbread buttermilk puree. huckleberry. chervil.

turbot. whole roasted. its own sauce.

peach.

rabbit saddle. rabbit glazed chanterelle. lobster mushroom. doug fir. vermouth.

pork cheek. black vinegar. kecap manis. chili. chewy rice noodle. pluot.

ants on a log. celery gin ice. peanut powder. raisin leather.

boar. red wine. orange. tagliatelle. gremolata. pecorino.

mexican wedding cake. bitter caramel banana. cajeta. nopales glass. lime styrofoam. mexican chocolate.

doughnut ice cream. coffee pop rocks.

Yes. You just saw 15 courses of food. And you know what? Everything was sublime. 

A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.  To me, this means the names of things do not matter, only what things are. Wolvesmouth. Craig. Beauty. Food. Art. 

I only hope we can join forces at some point for some fun kitchen concoctions...

Topography

My friend, Brandon, recently told me that when we are born we have smooth brains. As we get older, acquire knowledge, information and experiences, our brains become wrinkly. I guess as we get older everything gets wrinkly and crevice-y. Not unlike rivers, valleys, and land in general. The Grand Canyon is a very good example of this. Here we have nearly two billion years of the Earth's geological history exposed as a result of the Colorado River and its tributaries cutting their channels through layer after layer of rock.

A week or so ago I was riding out to Malibu with Ryan.  As we were zipping along the PCH, listening to Metallica very, very loudly (is there any other way?), I was suddenly overwhelmed with a flood of visceral memories. As we drove along we passed The Reel Inn where I took my Dad for a dinner while it was so misty and foggy we couldn’t even see the water from our table. It was beautiful. Or Topanga Canyon where I spent most Sunday brunches when I lived out here for a Summer while I was in college. I remember those days being with Emma and Sam. Or that house where I was sent to photograph a brother and sister portrait for their parents. Turns out Heather and Danielle actually pranked me for a Girls Behaving Badly episode. Or that wonky motel on the left where I ended up at 1am with a friend and a backpack filled with wine. We watched episodes of I love Lucy on the little TV and ran around the property like wild animals.

Remembering and feeling all of this again made me happy, sad, longing, empty and completely full. And a little bit old.

I think sometimes about the places we live. The walls we live within. What has happened here? If these walls could talk sort of thing. I wonder about who has loved here, lost here, died here. What sort of wild parties, famous and infamous people have been here? What babies, songs or paintings have been born here?

When I was younger (young enough to still be living in Richmond, Va.), my dad and I were driving down the street and stopped at a light in front of a random, lonely little house in The Fan. He looked at it wistfully and told me about an awesome party, a wild night, he had spent in that house in his twenties. Wow. This little old house? I’ve never even noticed it. And yet every time he drives by it he is taken back to some specific night in his past. How many other people in the world have attachments to that old house for whatever reason? And now I have an attachment, albeit vicariously, to that house.

Much like brains filled with information, causing their physicality to change or actual land changed over time, water, and air - buildings, streets, and places also have a tactile memory for us. They, too, are topographic. All of the traffic over time in all these places makes them their own kind of wrinkly. It somehow reminds me of the Family Circus cartoons. You know, the maps with trajectory using dotted lines?

Obviously food has a special place in our hearts and minds. Restaurants, kitchens, dining rooms, dishes, flavors, smells and textures. The dish I’m sharing with you here is another one of the first ones my dad taught me how to cook. It can be as simple or as complex as you want it to be. 

Sort of like that drive out to Malibu, I don’t have this dish very often. As a result, each time I do I am taken right back to my kitchen on Grove Avenue and I can hear my dad explaining how to prepare it while sharing with me the stories of the times he had made and the guests who partook.

This version has been wildly modified from the original. My dad doesn't even remember how he prepared it initially. The relish he made was Asian-like and incorporated very different produce than I have used here. So, while, over time and use, this dish has changed - become wrinkly, even - its taste and the memory it elicits remains steadfast.

Grilled Salmon with Market Relish over Jasmine Rice

Serves 2

2 ½ lb. salmon filets

3 tbsp olive oil

1/4 cup dry white wine

dash of fish sauce

1/2 lemon

½ cup chopped shallots

1 large clove of garlic, chopped

½ heirloom cherry tomatoes, halved (different colors, if possible)

1/4 cup chopped Hungarian Frying peppers

1/4 cup tomatillos, quartered

1/2 cup cucumber, peeled, seeded & chopped

2 tbsp fresh basil

1 cup Jasmine rice

2 cups water

salt & pepper to taste

For rice:

Wash rice in several changes of cold water in a bowl until water is clear, then drain in a sieve. Combine with water and salt in a 1 1/2- to 2-quart saucepan. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to low and cook, covered, until rice is tender and water is absorbed, 10 to 12 minutes. Remove from heat and let stand, covered, 5 minutes. Fluff with a fork.

For salmon:

Brush salmon with oil and lemon and sprinkle with salt and pepper to taste. Grill salmon on an oiled rack set 5 to 6 inches over glowing coals until just cooked through, about 5 minutes on each side.

For relish:

Heat oil in sauce pan, add shallots and peppers. Sauté for about 5 minutes, until somewhat soft. Add garlic, cucumber, wine and fish sauce. Cook down for another 5 or so minutes. Add tomatillos, tomatoes and basil. Salt and pepper to taste.

See photos for assembly and serve with a smooth Sancerre or a dry rosé.