Greenspan to Ludo: I believe I Can Fry. Ludo to Greenspan: Let’s Fry Away, Together.

Typo on the date above, fyi.

Last night, to add a little intrigue to Bluesy Tuesdays at The Foundry on Melrose, the famed Ludo Lefebvre shacked up with Foundry chef Eric Greenspan to fry up some chicken. Interestingly, the genesis of this chicken dinner came on Friday, when Lefebvre swung by The Foundry for dinner, only to find that Greenspan had been called away from his stoves (apparently Greenspan was moving a couch at the time). A Twitter exchange later, and Lefebvre had booked himself for a night of cooking.

As is de rigueur these days, word spread like wildfire via the Twitterverse, causing foodies, bloggers and critics alike to scramble for a coveted reservation to experience two great chefs play chicken. And I was one of them.

Brandon and I arrived promptly at 9:30pm, as per our reservation time, and were seated immediately. It wasn’t nearly as nutso in there as I would have thought – it was quite calm, actually. We were originally seated in the back dining room, but I requested we move to the front room, which was a bit more spirited with the live music. And I could watch the chefs and the kitchen from my new perch. Not a problem. Our server happily accommodated us (me).

Men at work.

Brandon and I ordered a smattering of items from the Bluesy Tuesday menu and a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. But let’s cut to the chase. The chicken. One plate, 2 pieces of chicken from each chef, $6.

 Greenspan's in the foreground. Ludo's in the background.

Ludo’s fried chicken (LFC) was in the form of nuggets, with brined dark meat. The crispety, crunchety, rosemary and herbs de provence seasoned skin (which is really the most important facet of fried chicken, right?) was simply fantastic. And was this fried in duck fat? Oh, hell yes! These were accompanied by a tangy, sweet and spicy piquillo sauce that I could have done shots of. Ludo’s chicken was overwhelmingly robust and flavorful - and the meat was exceptionally moist and tender. Mr. Gold is right: this may be one of the 99 things to eat before you die. Perhaps that’s also why he sauntered through the door moments after us last night…

Greenspan’s chicken was a force to be reckoned with, however. He offered up a drumstick and a thigh with a buttermilk crust and meat that literally fell off the bone. I was impressed that he re-imagined the chicken and waffles concept by accompanying his chicken with maple syrup and goat cheese waffle segments.

Interestingly, while I preferred Ludo’s chicken – primarily because of the dark meat, Brandon opted for Greenspan’s – primarily because of his chicken and waffles concept. He felt that while Ludo’s chicken was “the tenderest chicken I’ve ever tasted”, that it was otherwise uninspired without the accompanying piquillo sauce (which, he also thought, by the way, completely changed the taste of that chicken into something new and magical.) We did agree, though, that both were fantastic.

And I must mention a special, little gem about our plates of chicken. They each came with moist towelettes! I cannot possibly express how happy that made me. There should be more moist towelettes in this world.

Another standout item of the evening, and something worth mentioning, was Greenspan’s Cornbread Pudding with crème fraiche ($8). It usually is also accompanied with a jalapeño jam, but they had run out. As a Texas expat, Brandon ordered the dish solely because the word jalapeño was inserted into the description. But this dish was so moist, both savory and sweet, and divine, that even he didn’t miss the jam.

So, a bottle of wine, an amuse bouche from Ludo, fried green tomatoes with watermelon and blue cheese, a potato soup with a soft egg, cornmeal pudding, the fried chicken and $70 later, Brandon and I were sated, happy, and full of warm fuzzies. Nothing beats a fantastic meal with a friend.

And I have to give him big ups for humoring my excited anticipation for two days, making us move tables, having to witness me geeking out over seeing the chefs in action, and worst of all, taking pictures with the flash at the dinner table. Well, at least I paid.

27. The Dogtown Dog Truck

After leaving the Reggae Jerk Chicken Truck, I headed west on Wilshire and spotted the Dogtown Dog truck. Woo-hoo! I whipped a U-ey and secured a parking space directly behind the truck. Score! It was about 2:30 and I was surprised to see such a cluster of folks around the truck. After my truck experience less than an hour before I decided this was a good sign. But as I sidled up to the window I realized that all of these people had already ordered and were waiting on their food. Curious.

I almost didn’t even have the chance to order as the man in the window said they were closed. But wait – no, not closed. I got the last order of the day. The menu consists of 6 different styles of hot dogs and some cute sides: tater tots, buffalo tots and fennel slaw. I would have preferred to order their California Dog ($6), but opted for their signature Dogtown Dog ($5). Gotta order the namesake, right? 

So, I turned around, walked over to a low wall to sit and wait. As I glanced around at the folks around me (about 8 people), I realized they were all still waiting for their food. Nothing had come out of the window of the truck yet. For hot dogs? I can’t imagine any other food that would come out of a truck faster than hot dogs - especially if there are only 6 varieties. This began to concern me.

The guy that took my order even came out and began to close down the truck while we were all waiting. Why wasn’t he helping the food come out faster?

So, seriously folks, I waited about 20 minutes. I ordered one (1) hot dog. Were they actually putting the meat in the casings in that truck?? Needless to say, this hot dog had a lot to live up to at this point.

Where's the beef?

Well and so. The dog was okay, but there wasn’t a whole lot of it. I liked its flavor but again, it was a pretty skimpy dog that was eclipsed by both the soft bun and the toppings – fennel slaw, roasted red peppers and Dijon mustard. I enjoyed the fennel slaw (but there was a bit too much of it) and peppers, but my mustard was nowhere to be found. The menu brags of a snap. My dog was not that snappy. Which is really not a big thing to me anyway. But for $5 and a curious wait, I want a big-ass dog. I want something more like what Let’s Be Frank is doing. Their dog was a meal. This dog was really my second lunch and I still wasn’t stuffed. And I stuff easily.

After 2 months of staying relatively truck free, today ended up being somewhat disappointing. I will say that in the past couple of months I tried Komodo, Louks and Fressers, and found them to all be quite good. I plan to return to each of them to provide a more thorough review. So keep checking in!

26. Reggae Jerk Chicken Truck

It has been a while, gang.

Although I was pretty trucked out, as it were, by the end of last year, I have still been visiting a few here and there. And yes, of course I attended the LA Street Food Fair a couple of weeks ago. I just haven’t been wearing my truck hat as much as my chef hat lately. So no reviews recently.

But today, dear readers, I had a wild hair. I squeezed in two (2) food trucks for lunch!

I have been pretty excited since I heard about a jerk chicken truck hitting the streets a few weeks ago. I love jerk chicken and plantains and beans and rice. Yum! While, undoubtedly, there are quite a few brick and mortar establishments that serve this fare around town, I have not been clued into them. I guess it’s not been on my radar.

There was this amazing restaurant in my neighborhood in Atlanta where I ate at least once week. They had excellent jerk chicken and fried plantains. I think it was called Bridgetown Grill. Also, Eats, a wonky little spot, had a jerk chicken that just blew my mind. Actually, that place was tremendously cool. And cheap. Check it out if you visit the ATL.

Well, I hadn’t thought about any of that in ages - until I heard about this truck. So today, I took a small detour in my route to check them out. They were on Wilshire, in Koreatown. Why is the stretch of Wilshire from Fairfax to Koreatown so exceptionally windy all the time? Anyone?

Ok. Zero line. I never know if that’s good or bad. It was nearing the end of the lunch phase, so I’m sure it was just timing. The menu was super bare bones, which I appreciate. Concentrate on what you do well, right? Basically, I had my choice of a big plate of jerk chicken over rice or fries, a small plate of jerk chicken over rice or fries, a jerk chicken burrito, a beef patty (?), and a smattering of sides, including plantains.

They also had a few little tripod-y chairs in front of the truck. God is in the details.

I ordered the small jerk chicken plate over rice & beans ($4) and a bottle of water ($1). You have to admit: the price is right. The food came out immediately. I mean, immediately. This made me happy as I was parked in a loading zone. So I scurried to a little wall near my car (to keep an eye on it) and dove into lunch.

Okay. I have read some other reviews of this truck, and they are all glowing. I also read that chef Anthony Robinson, a Jamaican native and recent L.A. transplant (via England), earned his chops making jerk chicken that he sold to clubgoers on the streets of London. So I am confused.

My chicken was unlike any jerk chicken I have experienced before. The actual meat was chewy and fatty. It reminded me of the caliber of meat you get in those Chinese spots in food courts at the mall. The meat itself had little flavor and had “jerk sauce” glopped on top of it. Said sauce was thick and reminiscent of bbq sauce. There was zero heat, actually it was fairly sweet (the dish was warm in temperature, however). I liked the rice, but would have preferred a coupla more beans in there. I also had a hard time eating off of the shallow tray the food sits upon. I lost a lot of rice to the sidewalk. This dish requires a bowl, or something deeper.

Sigh. I want to chalk it up to being an off day. Or, perhaps jerk chicken is a different beast on the west coast. But admittedly, I was really bummed out about this. In no way did it satisfy any of the flavors, spices and textures I was anticipating hitting my tongue.

So, still hungry, I headed west on Wilshire to see what other treasures would pop up… And there, in the food truck zone that is 5700-5900 Wilshire, I saw the Dogtown Dog truck, another truck that has been on my radar for quite some time. 

Stay tuned…

Dear Diary,

I have kept journals almost all of my life. I only stopped a few years ago (probably because of this blog), but I still have boxes of them. I don’t often go back through them – or, at least, it’s been quite a while. The other night, knowing I was going to have a busy week of work, I stole a night to myself and treated me to a dinner at Cheebo. With one of my old journals. And a few glasses of sauvignon blanc, a bowl of creamy artichoke soup and their signature chopped salad. Before I continue I will say that the food was very, very good. In fact, I will try to recreate the soup at home soon.

Here’s what’s wild: while reading my words from over a decade ago, it didn’t seem that I’ve changed as much as I would have hoped, or at least thought. Don’t get me wrong – I’m a really good person. What I noticed, though, is all of the things that got me dithered out, all of the promises I used to make to myself – are all the same dithers and promises of today.

Yet reading the entries still makes me miss something. Staying up until dawn? Dying may hair a new color and not to cover grays? Being able to do shots? Looking good in spandex?

I imagine it would be youth. Or at least the version of youth that allows us to fear little. The feeling of being invincible.

I wonder why that changes as we get older. Don’t get me wrong – I have no interest in going back in time. I don’t feel a need to recreate or relive any of the moments of my past. I am happy with the present and look brightly into the future. But I do find it interesting that, while looking through my words from all the years past that the more things change the more they stay the same. I can’t tell if I take comfort or concern in this little phenomenon.

I still spend too much time worrying about boys, friends, money, success and my hair. At least I don’t feel compelled to pierce anything or toy with the idea of getting a tattoo anymore. I’ve never liked doing shots, so I’m glad the pressure is off there. And I have little to no interest in wearing spandex (although it would be nice if it looked better on me).

Some of my old journals are filled with stories of my life, some are filled with watercolors, some have little taped scrawls and scraps from friends and the world, and some are simply filled with lists. Some parts are sad and some are happy, but they all mirror the trajectory of my life. They track the people who have moved in and out of my life, who have stayed, who have passed on. There is love, loss, elation, heartbreak, failure and triumph. I found them all to have beauty.

Last night, as I was trapped in the canyon, with my car needing a jump, my only phone dead and in a majorly crabby mood, I decided to make something that made me comfortable. Cozy. Something we all have eaten all of our lives in some form or another. A dish that, the more it changes, the more it stays the same. Something that can be colorful or monochromatic. Something that can be ornate or bare bones. Something that can taste both simple and complex.  Something that everyone perceives differently. Something that most of us have an opinion about. Something that, like the phases of our lives, seems to be ever morphing – moving forward while suspended in time.

Chili.

I have never used a recipe for chili. Rather, I like to toss all sorts of things in there each time and see what comes out. I never measure spices or concentrate very hard on it (except this time, so I could document the recipe for you). This go ‘round, I sautéed the onion in rendered bacon fat and kept the smoky bacon bits in. I always like to use lots of different kinds of beans for color and texture. It turned out great: thick, bold, good heat, smoky and rich. The sour cream and green onion on top add a splash of bright color and round out the spice.

And then I wrote everything you just read.

Chili with Beef & Bacon

2 strips bacon, cut into small pieces

1 red onion, chopped

1 lb. ground beef

4 cloves garlic, smashed

2 tbsp cayenne pepper

2 tbsp chili powder

1 ½ tbsp ground cumin

1 ½ tsp Hungarian paprika

1 bay leaf

15 oz can of tomato sauce

15 oz can of plum tomatoes

1 tsp Worcestershire sauce

1 tbsp red wine

20 oz can of red kidney beans

15 oz can of pinto beans

15 oz can of cannellini beans

Salt

Sour cream and chopped scallions for garnish

Directions
1. In a large, heavy-bottomed pot over medium-high heat, cook bacon, stirring until it just begins to brown, about 4 minutes. Add onion, lower heat to medium, cover, and cook, stirring occasionally, until translucent, 4 to 7 minutes. Uncover pan, stir in garlic, and cook 1 minute.
2. Increase heat to medium-high and add ground beef; break it up with a wooden spoon and stir gently until it loses its raw color, 6 to 8 minutes. Stir in spices and 1 tsp. salt and cook 1 minute. Add tomatoes, tomato sauce, bay leaf, and Worcestershire, wine and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium-low, cover partially, and cook 30 minutes.
3. Add beans and cook 30 minutes, uncovered. Season to taste with additional salt. Serve warm, with toppings on the side.



*This post is part of the Denny's and/or Foodbuzz BACONALIA challenge and is an entry.

Strata

We all have so many interesting layers. We all have so many interesting phases within ourselves - with how we understand others, and with our relationships. I had a friend that referred to my dog as an onion – you had to peel back the layers, she would say. As he is a Chihuahua, I would say he’s more like a shallot. While she is correct about Besito, it’s also a really fantastic phrase.

Yes, upon first meeting Besito he will bark at you until he is hoarse. It’s immensely irritating. But once he gets to know you he will squeal and scream and pee pee on you – because he loves you! I don’t know which is worse.

Me: upon meeting me a lot of people think I’m too serious. Or crabby. Or British. But in reality I am quite silly and happy and fun. And obviously both Besito and I have more layers than those, but you get the idea.

Relationships, in any context, are no different. In fact, they are even more complex, constantly morphing and often appearing different each time you look at them from a new perspective.

One of my best friends for the better part of a decade and I met each other when I first moved to Los Angeles. We had so much in common at the time. We were also both younger, more energetic, more adventurous, were having an absolute blast learning about each other, and always had a cooking night about once a week. We would take turns cooking or just cook together. We also loved the wine. Well, we still both love the wine.

Lamentably, while I see him regularly enough, it’s not the same. It’s more formal, less inspired, hardly adventurous, and we don’t cook together much anymore. Anyway, I’m sure it’s a phase. We all grow together and apart at times.

Last night he came over to my house for dinner. I actually don’t think he’s ever been to this particular house of mine for one of our old-school cooking nights. Day of, he mentioned that he was tired and that he probably wouldn’t be up for a “whole cooking thing”. So I said I’d cook and he could just kick it.

He showed up an hour late, sans wine, and appeared bedraggled. This is unusual. He proceeded to passively denigrate many of the things of importance to me: this blog, photography, art, you name it. He just seemed like such the downy clowny. I guess it just felt like he really didn't want to be there. Which, of course, made me feel the same.

Worst thing, he hardly mentioned anything about the Persian cucumber salad, cream of broccoli soup with Parmesan croutons - or the lasagna Bolognese I spent about 5 hours making (which was DELICIOUS). Stinker.

He probably stayed about 2 hours. Once the red wine was gone so was he. He didn’t even want to take any leftover soup or lasagna with him. Double stinker.

It’s fine. Well, it’s sad, but it’s also fine. He’s going through one of his layers, his phases. Perhaps I am as well. And so must we. Kind of like an onion. Or lasagna.

I know he’s not going anywhere. I know we’ll find our groove again. Until then, I’m going to hang back and let it figure itself out along the long road that is our future. Our friendship.

And when we do, we will have yet another layer peeled.

My Lasagna Bolognese

Serves 10-12

Bolognese Sauce

1 ½ tbsp olive oil

2 tbsp butter

1 clove garlic, finely chopped

1 onion, diced

1 stalk celery, diced

1 large carrot, peeled & diced

1 cup Crimini mushrooms, chopped

1 lb ground sirloin

2 cups milk

1 cup red wine

¼ cup tomato paste

¼ cup tomato sauce

1 cup beef stock

1 bay leaf

1 ½ tsp salt

¾ tsp pepper

2 tbsp crème fraiche

Heat the butter and olive oil in a large cast-iron or enamel pot over medium heat.

Add the onions, and cook until they begin to soften, about 10 minutes. Add the garlic, celery, carrot, and mushrooms, and cook until they are tender, about 10 minutes. Add the ground sirloin, and cook, stirring occasionally, until the meat is no longer pink. Add the milk, and cook at a gentle simmer, skimming fat from surface, until the liquid has reduced by half, about 45 minutes.

Add the wine and bay leaf, and simmer until liquid is reduced by half again, about 30 minutes.

Add stock, tomato paste, tomato sauce, salt, and pepper; simmer gently until sauce thickens, 30-40 minutes. Stir in crème fraiche.

Lasagna

Bolognese sauce

1 16 oz container ricotta cheese

3 egg yolks

1 cup grated Parmesan

½ cup grated mozzarella

1 ½ tsp coarse salt

¼ tsp freshly ground black pepper

¼ tsp grated nutmeg

Pinch of cayenne pepper

2 tbsp olive oil

1 box of no-boil lasagna noodles

2 cups mozzarella cheese

Preheat oven to 400.

Bring the sauce to room temperature. In a large bowl, whisk the ricotta, egg yolks, Parmesan, salt, pepper, nutmeg, and cayenne pepper. Chill filling until ready to assemble lasagna.

Spread about 2 cups of sauce on the bottom of a 9x13 baking dish. Place a single layer of noodles over the sauce, overlapping them slightly. Spread about 2 more cups of sauce over the noodles, and about ½ of the ricotta mixture over the sauce.

Top with a layer of noodles, again slightly overlapping. Repeat with more sauce and the remaining ricotta mixture. Top with a final layer of lasagna noodles. Spread a layer of sauce over the noodles, and finish with the grated mozzarella.

Bake until the sauce is bubbling and the cheese is melted, about 45 minutes. Cover with aluminum foil if the cheese starts to brown to early. Let lasagna stand 10-15 minutes before serving.