Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Cauld Gyn



As evidenced by the stark martini glass on my banner, I cover the finer drinks as well as the finer food. The monarch of all alcoholic drinks is the martini. It represents a rich history of alcoholic enjoyment without the negative connotation of being a mere street drunk. Its regality is reflected by the sleek contours of the glass. The elegently slim stem balancing a wide cone, crystal clear, yet frosted by condensation.

There is also no division of sexes with this drink. On the contrary, it helps bring them together. The martini is gender-neutral, enjoyed by men and women alike, without being called fu-fu or shi-shi, girl drink or gay drink [insert favorite Seinfeld cliche here].

On the contrary, it is a hard hitting, unadulterated drink. I like both vodka and gin martinis, but I am going to focus on gin, since that is the original drink.

There is good natured dissention on whether to shake or stir a martini. James Bond set the worldwide precedent of shaking a martini, but many believe it 'bruises' the alcohol. Bruising is when you get too many ice chips in the alcohol, lending to a watered down flavor. I agree, a stirred martini has more punch.

Fill a mixer up completely with ice. Fill your martini glass with ice and water and let stand. This will chill the glass nicely. Do I freeze my glasses? Not anymore. Freezing a glass is overkill, and melting ice gets all over everything you put the glass on. Better to just chill the cone.

My personal preference is Bombay Saphire, and I really can't think of another premium gin worthy of drinking straight. It has a complex citrusy flavor that you have to taste for yourself, it is really indescribable compared to other gins.

Timing is important. You need to rim the glass with some vermouth, so dump the ice water and quickly pour a couple of drops of extra dry vermouth into the glass and swish it around.

While that rests, pour a heavy two shots into the shaker, but instead of shaking, use a chopstick or other stirrer to swirl the gin 40 times. When it is through quicky dump the vermouth and pour the gin into the glass.

I think it's more appropriate to garnish a gin martini with a lemon or lime twist, to compliment the citrus flavor of the gin. Olive tends to add salt and is perfect for vodka, but not gin.

Put on some Esquivel and get swank!

Monday, February 27, 2006

Quick and Dirty Turkey Chili

Yes I know, turkey chili. It evokes images of intolerably tasteless, rubbery gruel that promises health and flavor, and delivers neither.



You can forget those hippy stereotypes. This is serious chili, and frankly, the turkey was only an afterthought as the ground meat of choice. You can substitute almost any meat and still result in a hearty, meaty tasting dish that can be healthy if you choose it to be so.

I start with two pounds of ground meat. Go crazy and mix your meats, like lamb, pork and turkey. For this chili I used two pounds of turkey meat. I rough chopped two shallots, two anaheim peppers and tomato.

I hate most beans. I know, I'm being a foodist. The thought of grainy kidney beans killing the texture of my chili is repellent. I substitute cubed portabello.

Brown the meat in one pan while you're sauteing the vegetables in another. Start with shallot, then throw in the peppers and finally the mushrooms.

Drain the meat, place it back in the pan and throw in 2 tablespoons of chili powder and paprika. Toss in a tablespoon of onion and garlic powder. Do an over the shoulder dunk of 1/2 tablespoon cumin. Salt to taste. Add hot pepper to taste.

Now that is something I am going to leave up to you. You can make it watery bland or enriched uranium hot. Cayenne delivers a nice burn in the throat, but you can half a jalapeno for a rough roasted tongue, or all out conflagration through your solar plexus with a diced habanero. I used to like molten chili, but lately I make a mild batch and let people season it to their taste.

Once you have liberally spiced the meat, add all the vegetables to the pan. Stir virgorously. Stir frantically. Stir like a maniac. Now, add enough chicken or beef broth to cover the ingredients. Splash a few glugs of wine or beer to cover another 1/4 inch of the ingredients. I likes beer, its all about campfire.

Simmer everything for 1 or 2 hours, the longer the better. Throw in a bay leaf, toss in some sage or thyme. Whatever! It's a chili, after all. Keep tasting as you go along, make sure it is salted properly. I cannot stress that enough.

About 15 minutes before it is done, sprinkle in some masa flour, or if you don't have that, regular flour. About a tablespoon. This will thicken it. You know what I did? I had some demi base and stirred in about two teaspoons. It attacked it with bold vealish flavor.

Once its done simmering, plop some in your bowl and shred a tangle of cheese and watch it melt into goo. This is rainy winter food!

Sunday, February 26, 2006

God's Greatest Convenience Food

You can believe in evolution or intelligent design or spaghetti monster theory, I don't care. Someone or something created the shrimp. It comes complete with its own package, it can be steamed or, forget it, go rent Forrest Gump for a list of shrimp's versatility. This is how we lay it down on the East Side. Ocean City, Maryland, Baby!



Tonight, I steamed it, tossed it with Old Bay seasoning, then lovingly rested it on a bed of shaved ice with a couple of succulent lemon wedges and a homemade cocktail sauce of 1/3 prepared horseradish and 2/3 catsup.
That's it. Step back and bask in the glow.

Saturday, February 25, 2006

Teach A Man To Fish



Again Whole Foods did not let me down. Their unsurpassed capacity to get fresh seafood year round justifies the 15 minute commute. This night I made trout dusted with almond and pine nut flour, steamed primal artichoke and littleneck clams in champagne broth.

I bought slivered onions and pine nuts from the bulk section and buzzed them in the mini-food processor. I added salt, tiny bit of sugar and some dried thyme and basil. Put it in a bowl for later.

The fillet was about a pound, center cut (which is hard with a trout since filets don’t run that huge). Take extra care to remove as many pin bones as possible. You do this by running your hand against the grain on the flesh, and that will poke the bones up. You can extract them easiest with tweezers. You can also use the toaster as a mirror, and take care of your eyebrows while you’re at it.

To cook, sauté flesh side down for about 3-4 minutes, flip over and transfer to a 400 degree oven for another 5 minutes or so.

To prep the artichoke, I cut the very tip of the stalk off, and strip off some of the outside skin on the stalk. Bisect the artichoke and cut the top hemisphere off and discard. Take a spoon and pretend its your sword enemy and scoop the ‘choke’ out of the middle, scraping around until all the hair is gone.

Store in cold water with lemon or lime juice to prevent oxidation. When you cook it, steam for about 12-15 minutes, and please keep checking to make sure you don’t run out of water and burn the bottom of the pan. Burnt artichoke is so unbecoming.

Whole Foods pre tests their clams for life by tapping them, so if you trust your fishmonger you don’t need to repeat the process. I sautéed a couple of shaved shallots and later added tomato.

When sufficiently stewed (little brown on the shallots) pour in a cup of chicken broth and a cup of champagne. When it comes to a rolling boil, add the clams and keep simmering on medium until the broth is reduced by half. I added sprigs of fresh thyme.

If you like, cut the other liquids in half and add a cup of cream and reduce until it nappes the spoon. Clams in cream broth are silky and indescribable. Serve with crusty bread.



Butter, Butter, Butter! Both items on the plate cry for butter so melt down half a stick. Set one half aside for the artichoke, the other half you will add lemon juice and capers. Pour that over the fish.

This is really a quick meal that times very well. You start the clams first, then steam the artichoke, and prepare the fish last, it all comes out as a brilliantly healthy meal. Except all the butter.

You Gotta Love It

I love irony. Here are a couple of decorations from my kitchen that remind us how far we've evolved the last fifty years. At one time, these books served to actually make food less appealing.







Mmmm. I would subscribe to CheeseWorld by The U.S. Department of Agriculture, wouldn't you?


Further economic development has reconstituted the production of curds in the southwest region of Canton of Glarus, Switzerland. Trade pressures and the depletion of grasslands due to residential overdevelopment, had led to a lessening of substantive protein in the aging process. Therefore, the Swiss adopted new enhanced environmental controls in the aging facilities... Riveting.

Thursday, February 23, 2006

My Secret Avenger



Nothing peels away the rivets of a four-alarm hangover like a Bloody Mary. Paradoxically hot and cold, it evokes memories of gazpacho, fire and the whispy longing of what you forgot the night before. If however, Bloody Marys remind you of Sunday morning, maybe it's time to not only curtail your drinking, but start re-thinking what you know about the Bloody Mary.

The Bloody Mary was invented by Fernand Petiot, a bartender at Harry's New York Bar in Paris. The basic recipe was tomato juice and vodka, nothing elaborate. It wasn't until he defected to the King Cole Bar in New York that he started doctoring it up for local New Yorker's hard hitting tastes.

I'm going to avoid talking about a specific recipe because I think the best part of a Bloody Mary is how changeable it is. I never really make the same drink twice.

The only consistent ingredient is vodka. In my opinion, you can go premium if you want, but this will be masked heavily by the other ingredients so there is no need to blow a ton of money on Chopin or Belvedere.

Now, for the tomato base you can use tomato juice if you want, but I start with V-8 because it has a much more complex flavor. Chances are, you'll garnish it with one of those eight vegetables. Another chic twist comes south of the border, Clamato.

Clamato is tomato juice and clam juice. When I first heard about Clamato, I proclaimed it natures greatest autrocity. It just seemed too bizzare. But after thinking about it, and later drinking it, the appeal was instantly overwhelming. It is the perfect Bloody Mary base. I've seen recipes that call for a dash of clam juice, and it really adds an extra dimension to the drink.

My preference is to add clam juice to V-8, but usually it is more convenient to keep a bottle of Clamato.

Now comes the fun part, all the additives that make each Bloody Mary her own unique personality. First are the sauces and heat. I like a dash of soy, dash of worchestershire, couple spurts of Tabasco. Soy? Yeah, I like a savory Mary. We've already gone down that road with a briny clam additive, so it naturally goes.

If you don't like a 'soupy' tasting Mary, I'd suggest sticking with the straight tomato, worchestershire and Tobasco. It is light and sweet, with just the right heat.

Don't restrict yourself to Tobasco, I'm just using that as a convenient name brand. The hot sauce you use depends on what your spirit, resilience and hangover dictate you want. Some like tongue-charring habanero sauce. Others like garlic flavored mild sauces. I like something right in between, like Shiracha or Louisiana Hot Sauce. To really throw things for a loop, I dash in liquid smoke and sometimes aromatic bitters. It's like drinking barbeque sauce.

Mix this up well, the last part is a nice kick to finish off. I like a tiny dallop of prepared horseradish and a quick rim of wasabi paste. They lend a nice texture when twirled into the mix. You can shred ginger, garlic or even sprinkle in cumin or dried parsely.

Your only other mandatory ingredient is pepper. Fresh ground is best, but use what you've got. It doesn't even have to be black. Pink peppercorn is delicate, so is white, but I like a mix for nice coloring.

Finally, your garnish. Celery is traditional, and it is more aesthetically pleasing to keep the leaves on the stalk. You can use a bell pepper wedge, or really any mild pepper like solano or anaheim. An uncut jalapeno looks nice, but if you're a masochist, but it on a bias. Live a little. Any vegetable is suitable, from zucchini to pumpkin wedge.

Experiment a little, but avoid pre made mixers. Even straight V8 and vodka makes a quick, competant Mary. You don't really even have to stick to vodka. Whiskey adds an extra woody, smoky flavor to compliment the overall taste. Have you ever heard of a Ruddy Mary? That uses beer as the base. It is a good light alcohol drink.

You want to know the truth? Almost any liquor can be substituted, because the strength of the other ingredients masks it anyhow. Of course, it won't be a Bloody Mary, but it will be a hearty, eye opening drink. Lighter, sweeter Bloody Marys are good for brunch, while the more heavy, complex ones go well with cheese appetizers and sun dried tomato dip. No matter how you like it, hopefully it will be something you're drinking voluntarily, and not medicinally.

Monday, February 20, 2006

A Night At The Mansion



If there is a man who walks through the world as if it were his own creation, it is Joel Robuchon. If you don’t know who Joel Robuchon is, stop reading right now and Google his name. You have no right reading a site devoted to food until you understand the gravity of the Chef I am talking about.

Few chefs in the world command the gastronomic respect that Joel Robuchon possesses. He is culinary royalty. Named Chef of the Century, Robuchon had retired in 1996, leaving to speculation that he was tiring of cranking out masterpieces, and that the pressure and relentless pace was taking its toll. He emerged from retirement to quietly open L’Atelier in Tokyo. If you want to eat at a Robuchon restaurant in the United States, you can now go to Las Vegas.

So, is there a bigger story here than just our dinner at The Mansion? Sort of. Las Vegas has steadily lured all the top chefs and celebrity chefs from around the world, and positioned itself as one of the dining destinations. No longer do you need to travel to Paris or New York to be overwhelmed by a culinary master, Las Vegas has culled all that talent into a 2 mile stretch of The Strip. MGM nailing Robuchon was the stunning Coup of the Century.



What about his only American foray? Well, I tried going to his official site, to read more on his background, but it was in Japanese. So, we see his international focus does not necessarily start with the U.S.

We arrived a bit earlier than our reservations, entering through two massive glass and mahogany doors situated off the casino floor in a corner of the MGM, right next to Robuchon’s other restaurant, the more casual L’Atelier. L’Atelier is a French influenced tapas bar.

The Mansion is a museum, an exceedingly opulent room, like any post-modern ballroom you’ve been in. The color palette is dominated by black and deep lavender. And when I say black, I mean blaque. Lalique vases punctuate the sleek architecture and play off the riveting art that adorns the wall. Truly, the Mansion is an environment to be envied. Walking through the front door, we were immediately transported to another time and place, and that place would be Paris, the time, 1923.

We were seated immediately, and there is such a sensory overload, that it takes a few moments to inhale the atmosphere.



Obviously, those are stock photos because I didn’t have enough influence to get everybody to leave the dining room. As we were admiring the soothing display of artwork, they carefully placed the menus in front of us and took our drink order.



Ahh, clean, cold and refreshing. It may be heresy to dodge wine during a proper French meal, but a martini is an acceptable substitute. Between sips, I looked over the menu, which was written in French, and offered English subtitles to describe the food.



We were essentially to be piloted through this meal, since there are only two choices for dinner. The six-course dinner and the Herculean sixteen-course Winter Tasting Menu. We opted for the smaller dinner, although after the fact I realized the portion size would have been controlled perfectly so as not to bloat us with sixteen courses. Here is a complete recounting of the Winter Tasting Menu, our dishes are pulled from the same menu, just less of them.

La Pomme: Apple pearl, vodka granite.
Le Caviar Oscietre: Osetra caviar with haricots vert salad, lemon grass.
Le Foie Gras: Fois gras, mille-feuille of smoked eel with oriental flavors.
Le Thon: Tuna tartar, cold red bell pepper confit with bergamot and dry cured ham.
La Truffle: Black truffle in a hot pastry, onions and smoked ham.
Le Parmigiano Reggiano: Parmesan and vegetable veloute with black truffle.
L’Epinard: Mille feuille of spinach, truffle and tofu, parsley coulis.
Les Aromates: Medley of aromates in a mild spicy broth.
La Grenouille: Frog leg fritter with baby chanterelles.



L’Amadai: Amadai in a lily bulb broth.
Le Turbot: Roasted turbot “on the bone” with celeriac and truffle stew.
Le Homard de Bretagne: Brittany lobster under a disappearing saffron hostie in a seafood bouillon
Le Canard: Duck confit with potatoes, truffled cappuccino
L’Epeautre: Sault wild oatmeal, black truffles, gold leaf.
Le Coing: Quince compote Amaretto, ginger ice cream, yogurt and Champagne mousse.
Le Chocolat: Warm chocolate, coffee perfumed cocoa morsels

The six course dinner is a cozy $185 per person, and The Winter Tasting Menu clocks in at a heart stopping $350, each without wine pairings. They actually do not offer a pairing menu.



It took the bread cart guy about ten minutes to describe all the various bread to us. They were delicate and vibrant, each one crusted to perfection, and using flavor combinations I never would have thought of. Some examples are gruyere baked roll, saffron bread, olive and tarragon, milk bread and sugar cheese.



The thing that looks like a lemon is, in fact, saffron bread. Saffron threads clung to the outside and permeated throughout the dough. They did not skimp on the saffron, which is easily the most expensive thing in the world, let alone compared to other food. The bread was heavy with the aroma and color of saffron, easily the most saffrony item ever to pass my lips. Of all the varieties, my favorite were the mini bacon baguettes.



I could easily write an article on the bread alone. There is simply a dizzying array of sensually crafted bread that I was afraid to eat because I didn’t want to fill up.

The plates are masterfully arranged, each dish a spectacular work of art. Small art. Our amuse bouche was La Pomme: Apple pearl caressed by vodka granite. The choreographed presentation has a theatrical quality, our servers swooping in and circling the plates in front of us, simultaneously. We were not just being fed, we were being entertained.



The single bite was a refreshing pick me up, balancing the tartness of the apple pearls with the bite from the vodka. It was incredibly refreshing, with the perfectly symmetrical apple pearls popping off the tip of my tongue, like sweet caviar. Clearly more dense, it had a nice grip on the teeth, with apple flavor bursting over my tongue, primed by the vodka. We were warned not to eat the apple. I felt like Eve.



They quickly whisked our plates away, and we were again presented with the bread cart.



One thing I did notice, and this is indicative of fine dining, is that people get very serious. Everyone in the room was pensive and deliberate. I’m not talking about the staff, they are exceedingly attentive and helpful, I’m talking about the curmudgeons next to us. We were, not surprisingly, some of the younger people, and I was having a blast deconstructing and analyzing the food, reveling in the taste, taking clandestine pictures of the food and the space, admiring the décor. Others would sit there and scowl at each other between tense bites of caviar, and I wonder if they lost their zeal for life. Old, wealthy and lifeless.



It was in that very moment, feasting on majestic and artful food, in such a glamorous setting, that I realized we are living during an American renaissance. No, not because Robuchon has opened his restaurant on the North American Continent.

It’s because I consider myself lucky enough to live in a time and a country where someone is willing to extend me enough credit that I can recklessly blow it on meaningless crap like this. But, before I could start analyzing my conspicuous consumption a nanosecond longer, the second course arrived, Le Foie Gras.



My wife’s hatred of eel and fatted duck liver is her misfortunate and my exuberant luck. I got to eat two portions, and that is a great thing. The layers of the mille fuille bound the rich creaminess of the eel and foie gras. The pairing was incredible, and it is a wonder why this wouldn’t be formally adopted by everyone, it is such a natural and obvious pairing. The sweetness of the eel and fatty richness of the foie gras was cut by the truffled foam that lightened the overall taste.



My only complaint about this dish was the oversalting of the spun apple salad. Actually, that is my biggest complaint of the entire evening. Certain vital side dishes suffered from a bit of heavy salting, which really masked instead of highlighting some of the flavors.



Things started heating up during the third course, La Parmeiano Reggiano. This had a spectacularly strong drive of flavor. The presentation was gorgeous.



Robuchon likes his foams. Now, foams have been chic for about two years, and they are relegated to the finer establishments, not having trickled down to the Spearmint Foam McFlurry. I understand the physics of foam. The airy structure of foam allows air to permeate the delicate flavor, and is released in a quick burst when it quickly melts on the tongue. Perhaps it’s been all those habaneros I’ve eaten, but the foam didn’t contribute to the flavor.



Black truffle was sprinkled liberally throughout the foam, but the skin of black truffle is not where the essence is, so there wasn’t the distinctive, nutty truffle flavor. At the bottom of the dish was a parmesan flan which really conveyed a lot of character when balanced against the foam. Maybe that was the intention, so have a hearty flavor underneath cut by the froth on top.

The soup itself tasted like parmesan rind had been simmering for hours, a solid way to imbibe strong flavor to a soup.

More bread, and another martini.



The next offering was Le Turbot, which I thought was a Transformer named “Tur-Bot.” Lo and behold it was a center cut filet of turbot, crusted nicely and adorned with microjulienned black truffle. This was a mild tasting, fresh fish swimming in a briny broth. Again, the heavy handed sous chef was a tad exuberant with the salt. It cut nicely with the fish, which is a mild fish, and offset the celeriac and sweet chestnuts.

Now, that was an interesting twist. I’ve never had chestnuts that I’m aware of, and, like garlic, becomes sweet when slow cooked. This was a very intriguing flavor that added a dimension to the overall palette of the truffle broth.



The crescendo arrived with all deliberate flair. I cannot tell you what Le Name is, because, now that I evaluate the picture, it is not reflected on the souvenir menus they provided us, along with a gift bag. I don’t know if they remembered this, but we ordered the white trash six course meal, but we received the full blown Regal Winter Tasting Menu, complete on shiny lavender 30# stock paper.

So, let’s call it L’Veal.



Caging a calf does wonders for tenderness and flavor. It was juicy and properly sauced to allow the delicate flavor of the veal to creep through. The roasted garlic pillow upon which the lavender rested was a sweet interlude from the *sigh* overly salted pesto noodles. In this case I’m glad I was underwhelmed with flavor.




Delicate flavors shouldn’t be enshrouded in a heavy sauce, so I nodded in affirmation that the light demi only hinted extensive flavor, not bludgeoned the eater over the head. Yes, the pesto had a sharp salt flavor that took away from the balance, so I saved it until the end.




As we settled into dessert, they whisked us away with a variety of chocolates. Instead of petit fours, it was petit nines.



These were spectacular tides of disparate chocolate flavors. There was an unbelievable distinctiveness to each bite that brought a great rush.



To conclude, a bassinet of caramel hugged a savory football of espresso ice cream. It was sharp and not too sweet, which paired well with the caramel.



So, did Master Robuchon deliver a masterful evening of distinctive and exciting dishes. There were certainly interesting flavors, but I felt a surprising lack of innovative flavors. I know, sometimes experiment can marry two or more ideas with disastrous consequences, but I felt they were playing it a bit safe. Shaving black truffle over everything might be a delicate touch with a nod to opulence, but if it doesn’t contribute anything to the flavor, it misses the mark.



I don’t insist that everything on the plate adds to the flavor, there are legitimate garnishes that appeal strictly to the eye, and not the palate. Overall, I thought the food was thoughtfully prepared, exquisite and artful. But it lacked the unique flavors I would expect out of the “Chef of the Century.”

The space was superlative, as was the staff. Outstanding and cognizant of every patron, there is certainly no lack of attention without veering into intrusion. They were omniscient and friendly. The design and detail are impeccable and vibrant.

The food is good, certainly above average, but didn’t achieve the spectacularly high bar I set for a chef of that reputation. It may be growing pains, it has been open less than a year, so I am certainly game for another shot. I am still looking forward to The French Laundry, and I’ll chalk this one up as a nice diversion. Give it a year, let it mature, and let’s see if it changes the culinary landscape of the West Side.

As a parting gift, they gave us printouts of the aforementioned menus and a huge brioche wrapped in lavender cellophane. I'm sure it will taste delightful.

Friday, February 17, 2006

New Gastrologica Endeavor

It must remain a mystery for now, but I am working in conjunction with Chef Dan and a few others on a new Gastrologica project. It will be big. Stay tuned for details in the near future.

Also, some show notes, to facilitate some of the topics we are covering, I will start posting pictures and explanations of items we discuss, in conjuntion with the current week's show.

This week's topics will be an article on soul food in honor of Black History Month, a discussion of kitchen essentials, and a couple of surprises.

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Enigma wrapped in mystery, open to subjectivity

This article will serve as a chronicle of my attempts to secure a reservation, or indeed, any information about Ford's Filling station, the newest restaruant to generate a buzz in Culver City.

February 5 - Read a preview on Eating LA highlighting some of the fashionable finger foods and tasting menu. Pat works for a bona fide magazine, so her information about opening for March lunch is spectacularly more accurate than my assumptions.
February 14, 2006 - Opening Day, supposedly, but again, I am contradicted by the above article. My source was a Magic 8-Ball
February 15, 2006 - 9:00 - Attempted to find contact information, again, all roads lead back to Pat's article with a phone number.
10:00 - Beginning to doubt existence of Ford's Filling Station. Will verify later if the storefront is real.
10:30 - Reached a message that offered a nebulous greeting that hints at an opening day sometime in the indefinable future. It suggests reservations be faxed in, or I can email someone for further information.
11:00 - Firewall, starring Ben Ford's father, already released on DVD due to lagging Box Office draw.
Noon - Harrison rumored to be applying for sous chef position. Calista seen falling into a pasta roller with no effect.
12:30 - Called again, and now an actual recording has operation hours (Dinner only), and instructions on getting a reservation.
12:35 - Left message to please, please, please give us reservations for Friday night.

Will follow up with another dispatch on my success thereof.

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

A Word From Our Sponsor

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Friday, February 10, 2006

Lazy Flipping Pizza

Pizza is the lazy man's food. Not the lazy man laying on a couch with a beer perched on his gut, but a truly lazy cook's best friend. The hardest part of a pizza is the dough. Everything else is simple gravity.



In my previous Article, I stole a recipe from Emeril -the master Italian chef that he is- and used that recipe for my Superbowl Pizza. You should re-read that. You'll be quizzed on it later.

This Friday night punctuated a busy week, so I wanted to throw together somthing quick. Lo and behold, there was six day old pizza dough chilling in my fridge. You can roll the dough out uniformly to a twelve inch diameter, and I'll dock it and sling it the old fashioned way. It only landed on the floor once this time.

After picking off the kibble crumbs, hair and black specks I decided anything microscopic wouldn't survive the burn. The burn is 550 degrees, or the hottest your oven can get. Pizza needs to be cooked fast.

I keep a jar of garlic oil in the fridge, so I brushed down the entire crust with it, including over the edge. Before putting anything else on, I heavily salted the outer crust, and made sure to sprinkle in the center. The oil is the only 'sauce' so I had to put some extra flavor on the dough.

Alright! So, I thinly sliced some shallots and tossed them into some of the garlic oil and caramelized the rings in a small pan. Meanwhile, back at the pizza, I sprinkled the dough with oregano, majoram and sage. I shaved gruyere and gouda liberally all over the dough. I also indulged my fetish for burned cheese by making sure the shavings layered over the outer crust.

When the shallots had a deep brown hue I yanked them off and burned my fingers while pinching them evenly over the cheese.

Now came the big experiment. This was already a competent pizza. Several cheeses, caramelized onions. Salt. But, a pizza is like a painting, a landscape. I wanted to create pockets of disparate flavors with a limited, but available canvas.

My wife wanted a Hawaiian pizza, but these weren't the best ingredients to support that, geing ham and pineapple. So, what I did was introduce small bursts of Hawaiian flavor by shredding some leftover Virginia ham carefully over the pizza.

The oven is at 450 now. Then, I took chunks of pineapple and thinly sliced them, layering each one over a slice of ham. I cooked it for 10 minutes, but I suggest standing in front of the oven and pulling it out at the precise moment you think it's brown enough. Professional ovens are timed to send the pizzas through at a uniform speed. Hell of a science.



And, yo, there it is. The pizza did taste like a painting, not meaning that it had the acrid taste of acrylic, but the different textures and flavors were distinct yet complimentary. The shallots tickled the three cheeses with its demure sweetness, the cheese laid a foundation to compliment the ham, and the pineapple slice released a burst of sugar to veer the taste off into a new direction. It's like there was a road trip in my mouth, and everybody was hitchhiking.

You Lika Da Sauce, Eh?

There's a lame SNL skit from years ago featuring Rob "Deuce Bigelow" Schneider as a cook at a Greek Restaraunt. A customer, let's say Chris Farley because he was the fattest, asks for extra sauce. Rob responds, "You lika da sauce? Yeah, you lika da sauce. It's good, the sauce, yes?" That's it. That's the entire joke, a watered down version of a previous bad skit featuring a "Cheeseburger, Cheeseburger, Cheeseburger" screeching John Belushi.

Oh knock it off, if it wasn't John Belushi you wouldn't think that skit was funny at all. Anyway, what was the magical sauce everyone is so enamored with? Tzatziki!



What the skit lacks in humor it makes up in truth. Almost everyone I know asks for extra Tzatziki with their gyro (pronounced gy-ro). And why not? It's a great sauce. But, rather than being hamstrung by The Man, learn how to make it on your own.

There are a few conventions on how to make this, and they generally revolve around extracting as much liquid out of the mixture as possible. Yet, I like mine a little runny.

The ingredients are bare and simple: 2 cups yogurt, one medium cucumber, two cloves garlic, teaspoon of olive oil, and a teaspoon of lemon juice. If you want to make it traditional use three cups of whole fat yogurt and drain it.

I don't drain my yogurt, but we'll assume you did. With the drained yogurt in a bowl, skin, cut and remove the center goop from the cucumber. Chop the cucumber and put it in a collander to drain. When everything is sufficiently drained, finely chop the garlic and add it to the yogurt. Add the cucumber, oil and lemon juice. Salt and pepper to taste, but keep it very light on the salt. If you're feeling creative, chop a few fresh sprigs of dill into the mix.

Mix it all up and Huzzah! you hava da sauce.

Thursday, February 09, 2006

Still Plenty of Places for Valentines Day

That's like saying there's still hundreds of diamonds to choose from. Yes, there are many fine restaurants still taking reservations in Los Angeles for Valentines Day, but 90% are prix fix, starting at about $75 a person, but averaging around $100 per.

If you like your Valentine's dinner like you like your New Years Eve shakedown, then there still are many places to go. Just expect to pay through the nose.

Foodz 4 Bumstec

Bumstec is a guy, just a regular guy like you or I, unless you happen to be a woman, then he sort of reminds you of Rosanne. Bumstec doesn't exist in the real world, but he embodies every lowbrow craving I desire. When I eat garbage, I am feeding Bumstec.

Bumstec is a good dude, he just has simple tastes. He's the one that forces me to watch sports if it is a playoff or championship series. He's the one that scratches myself. He's the one that loves fried cheeze. He's the one misspelling stuff like a pre-teen haX0r, substituting "for" with "4". He's the fraternity brother I never was.

I have to coexist with Bumstec, despite my educated and pseudo-cultured sensibilities. Bumstec is close to being an undisciplined miscreant, he has no social grace but he's not a bad guy. In fact, if it weren't for Bumstec, I would lack a lot of the inspiration for many of the crazy foods I come up with.

Bumstec is the motivation behind the marshmallow fudgicle. He helps me conjure edible dishes from disparate foodgroups at 3am after a night of drinking. It is he who compels me to mix granola with yogurt and add apricot jam to the middle.

Bumstec resides in all of us. Bumstec is the originator of many avant garde dishes found in posh restaurants. If you made some of the things at home that you find in restaurants, people would think you are nuts, or stoned. But, when Bumstec whispers in the ear of a cutting edge chef, he lays the foundation of a masterpiece.

Bumstec achieved a dubious pinnacle with Elvis. Elvis' fried 'nana sandwich was a Bumstec inspiration, and the stuff of legends. Two slices of white bread, creamy peanut butter and mashed banana spread between the two, then pan fried in bacon fat.



But it didn't stop there. Elvis didn't invent the Fools Gold Loaf, the Colorado Gold Mine Company took care of that, but so addictive was this arterial autrocity that Elvis flew a party from Memphis to Denver one night to regale them with 22 Loaves. As the word "Fool" would imply, this is the Statue of David for Bumstec. Hollow out a loaf of white bread. Line the inside with peanut butter, blueberry jelly and plugged with a pound of bacon. The cost for this quick excursion: $16,000.

Bumstec has far reaching influences, and should be heeded. It doesn't matter if someone shoots you a wierd look when you feel like dipping parmesian straws in boysenberry jelly.

Bumstec grows weary of always being asked "What have you been smoking?" as if innovative foods can only come from drug inspiration. Ok, in Elvis' case, that might be true, but then, what was the executive chef of the Colorado Gold Mine Company on?

Bumstec dictates your cravings, and is especially powerful in pregnant women. Oh yes, that is Bumstec's influence.

So don't dis Bumstec. He is there to offer guidance and inspiration. Yeah, he's not perfect, and many of the things he wants to try end up tasting vile. But, occasionally he creates a classic, something that redefines culture and becomes permentantly embedded as a staple. Bumstec was present when the Earl of Sandwich was stuck in the middle of a gambling binge, and requested his meat placed between two slices of bread. Bumsted witnessed a vendor at the St. Louis 1904 World's Fair place a sausage in a bun to create the first hot dog. Bumstec's spirit permeates every PB&J, Fluffernutter and the quintissential Bumstecian food: Reeses peanut butter cup.

Bumstec takes unlike foods and pairs them, and sometimes, finds a masterpiece.

Epilogue: I have uncovered a perversion of the highest caliber. Here is a recipe for vegan Fool's Gold Loaf. Why even bother...

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

The Greatest Food Ever

Fried Cheese.

Aristocrat of the Islays

A good single malt Scotch should evoke images of misty, untamed fields cut by bubbling, chilly streams grappling around moss covered rocks. Lagavulin is such a drink. I'm swirling it under my nose [with one hand, and typing with one hand], punched by the heady, wooden aroma clinging to my nose. I chew on clear overtones of a smouldering woodpile behind a rain-soaked, stacked-stone house. I can smell the earthy, leathery, damp valley. Low wisps of smoking peat and apparitions of charred oak sneak in the shadows.

The striking absence of prima facie sweetness allows all these images to project through, then it slowly reveals itself as the smoky landscape retreats to the background. The aroma itself is intoxicating. I haven't had a sip yet, but the complexities have already revealed themselves. It also reflects deep suede in color, tantalizingly clear, as if all other liquors were murky and stagnant.

Earthy, earthy, earthy. Take a chunk of Scotland and bottle it. It drinks with a warm serenity of a drizzling Scottish winter evening. Once it hits the tongue, the sweetness is paradoxically up front and quickly dissipates to uncover the earthtones huddling behind it. This gives Lagavulin an inverse relationship between aroma and taste, thereby extending the experience of each sip.

It is a full minute later, and I still have the tingling linger of damp wood on my tongue. It reminds me of a rainy camping trip.

There is no bite, no burn. Lagavulin is distilled from the waters of Solum Lochs on the Isle of Islay. Islay enjoys milder weather than most of Scotland because of the Gulf Stream.

In fact, to confirm my description, I went to their website. Here is what I found after I wrote the above.

"Lagavulin has been described as the aristocrat of Islays. It has an unmistakable, powerful, peat-smoke aroma. Described as being robustly full bodied, well-balanced and smooth with a slight sweetness on the palate."

Perfect. I'm not full of crap.

Sunday, February 05, 2006

Superbowl Bonanza

I'll be the first to admit, I don't follow football outside of the Redskins, as evidenced by the timestamp on this article. So neither Pittsburgh nor Seattle really get my attention, except that, I'll throw down for the Steelers because they rep the Eastside.

To recap from yesterday, I am highlighting three dishes from Patrick O'Connell's new cookbook:

Phyllo Straws
Wild Mushroom Pizza
and Macaroni and Cheese

I also made grilled wings, cream-cheese stuffed jalapenos with a blanket of lox, spanikopita and a disasterous feta roll.

See, this is how it happens, you buy a whole roll of phyllo and only end up using five sheets. You can't really store it again, it gets torn and dry. So what I am compelled to do is come up with a dish that uses the remaining ingredients.

...And that was a hideous, pasty, and arid feta stuffed phyllo roll. The taste was ok, but all the outer layers crumbled off, and the feta had the consistency of freshly poured concrete.

Well, so far, it's second quarter, 3-0 and the most exciting thing has been the commercials and the food. This could all change by the end of the game.

I certainly encourage everyone to buy the cookbook, but I'll synopsize how I made these dishes, and also talk about the other stuff I made.

I'll start with my recipes, and from that begin with the easiest of them. By far, the simplest dish is the cream cheese stuffed jalapenos with lox.

Buy a can of Embasa whole jalapenos. Because it was a two-fer sale, I got two cans and I didn't read the label. The other can turned out to be julienned jalapenos, so I couldn't use them. Didn't I post an article entitled 'Always read the labels?'

Superbowl update: Even though it's not yet halftime I am going to announce the award for the most incomprehensible ad of our time: The Whopperettes in a surreal ballet featuring women dressed as burger parts dancing around, singing and whatnot. I'd rather see Paris Hilton shave her upper lip.

While your cream cheese is softening, cut the stems off the jalapenos and then cut them lengthwise, creating two boats. Scoop out the seeds and dry the halves off. All you do now is take a butter knife and fill the jalapeno halves with cream cheese. Buy sliced lox and cut rectangles to blanket over each half. Garnish and serve.



The Go Daddy ad was stupid and pointless, all they could do is rehash the tired premise of last years parody. Enough with the Carmen Electra reject.

Ok, so the chicken wings are very easy, too. I use a basic rub of salt, garlic powder, onion powder, paprika, cumin and cayenne. Use equal portions of each, and keep salting until it tastes how you like it.

Dust the rub all over the wings. You can use whole wings or just the drumette portion. Grill them until good and dark. Serve with....nothing! There is tons of flavor.



I like grilling instead of frying, because grilling fuses the flavor during the cooking process. Frying cooks the meat, and gives it a good crisp, but all the flavor is absorbed by saucing it after the fact. Personally, I like the oil-free method, since I'm getting my fat elsewhere tonight.

Something is wrong with the Hi Def feed for the Rolling Stones audio, the channels are mixed all wrong. I don't like the Stones so it really doesn't matter to me.

Now for the straws. Defrost the phyllo dough and get everything prepped because phyllo needs to be maintained once unwrapped. Have a faintly damp towel handy, once you unroll the dough, you'll need to keep it covered, but not too moist.



You will need:

1 cup clarified butter
1 cup shredded parmesan

Place a single phyllo sheet on a cutting surface. Brush it with the clarified butter. sprinkle parmesan liberally over the whole sheet. Place another sheet on top and brush that down with the butter.

Cut into three even lengthwise strips. Then cut horizontally so you have rectangles that have about a three inch width. Roll each one lenghwise around a pen or pencil and place on a baking tray.

Refrigerate for about 10 minutes then bake at 375 for about 8 minutes or until golden. You can serve with blueberry jelly or some other kind of jam to offset the saltiness of the parmesan.



With the leftover phyllo, I made spanikopita. I already had a packet of feta. You can cut long strips, 6x9, put feta in one end, then triangularly fod like a flag. Seal with the clarified butter. Bake until golden. Mmmm, but mine came out a little dry.

This is some of the best homemade mac and cheese I've had, a fitting tribute to Thomas Jefferson. You'll need:

two cups heavy cream
1 bag macaroni
pinch of nutmeg
salt & pepper
1/4 cup gruyere
1/4 cup parmesan
1/4 cup gouda

That interception made the game pretty interesting.

1 teaspoon minced shallots
1 teaspoon minced garlic

Boil the macaroni, then drain. In a four quart sauce pot, sweat the garlic and shallots for about five minutes. Add the cream and bring to a rapid boil. Lower to a simmer and reduce the cream 20% until it coats the back of a spoon.

When it's there, add the nutmeg, salt and pepper to taste. Whisk in the cheese and cook until blended. Now, here's what I did. I didn't follow the recipe. The actual recipe doesn't call for a second baking, they make it a bit runny, but I like the baked kind.

Pour your creamy cheese into a bowl and start adding macaroni a fistful at a time until you have a nice coated amount. Turn it out into a casserole dish and shave more gruyere to cover the top. Shave on more parmesan. Bake at 375 uncovered until the top is browned, about 20 minutes. Don't forget to salt, the cheese doesn't add as much as you think.

The beauty of the second bake is the flavor that can be extracted from cheese when it is browned. There is a whole extra dimension, equal to a bubbling crown of gruyere on seafood crepes, when you perform a secondary melt and burn. Gruyere, gouda, jack, are all greatly suited for melting. Cheddar is actually not as desireable because it breaks down into too much oil. Gruyere takes on a nutty, fragrant essence when browned. Fantastic!

The macaroni I used was Barilla, and they perfectly boiled and expanded properly. Elbow macaroni is the perfect vehicle for the cheese. It forms perfect U joint pipes to hold the creamy sauce, and the baking solidifies and binds the sauce to each elbow. It also introduces great contrast in texture. You have the creamy underlayer cushioning the snappy crisp of the top macaroni.



Finally, the pizza. Pizza dough is:

1 package active dry yeast
1 cup warm water (110 degrees F.)
2 1/2 to 3 cups flour plus more if necessary
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
1 1/2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

In a large bowl, combine yeast with water, olive oil, salt and stir well to proof. After 5 minutes, add half of the flour and mix well to thoroughly incorporate. Add all remaining flour except 1/2 cup and mix well with your hands. Transfer dough to a lightly floured work surface and knead dough for at least 5 and up to 7 minutes, adding enough additional flour as necessary to form a smooth and elastic dough. Dough should not be sticky. Transfer dough to a lightly oiled 2 or 3 quart bowl and turn to coat with oil. Cover with a damp towel and let rise in a warm place until doubled in size, usually at least 1 hour.

That came courtesy of Food TV, which I know is droll and contrived to lift from Food TV. Look, it's a time saver.

Slap it out to about 10"-12" or so. For this, you will need:

wedge of fontina
2 shallots
Virginia ham
truffle oil
parmesan
any assortment of wild mushrooms, I used porcini.
Preheat the oven to the highest setting 500 usually, not broil.

Thinly slice the shallots and mushrooms. Caramelize the shallots on a medium heat until they produce a nice brown color, then add your mushrooms. While that is sauteeing, brush your pizza dough with the truffle oil. Lay flat shaved fontina to cover the dough.

Tear the thinly sliced ham into strips and lay on top of the cheese. Dust sage and majoram onto the pizza. Remove the shallots and mushrooms from the heat and distribute on the pizza. Lightly salt and shave parmesan on top.

Bake it for 8-10 minutes, checking regularly for browning on the edge. Remove, let it sit for a bit, and carve it up!



The contrast of the sweet shallots and ham landscapes it a great clash of flavor. The truffle oil lends an underlying nutty quality to enhance the rich taste of the cheese.

Saturday, February 04, 2006

Not Your Powdered Cheese in a Green Tube

Truly, there is nothing like Parmesan Reggiano. You know what the best part about real Parmesan is? The salt deposits.



Tonight I got some Sini Fulvi Parmesan Reggiano. I haven't had this one before, but it has more salt crystals than other Parmesan I've had. It has a sharp taste that almost hides an undertone of kirsh.

Every bite has several evolving layers. First, the dry salty skin. Then, the sharp rush, punctuated by a crunch of salt that pushes the flavor to a more intense sourness, approaching a citrus kick. If I eat a big enough chunk, the pungency almost makes my lips pucker.

I will use this as a key ingredient in the Phyllo Straws.

Always Read The Label

Have you ever bothered reading the long dissertation on the Budweiser can?

"This is the famous Budweiser beer. We know of no other, blah, blah, blah"

The vertical paragraphs of philosophical ramblings on the label of Dr. Brommer's Castille Soap are incomprehensible.

But, have you ever read the back of Angostura Aromatic Bitters? Evidentally, it has great health benefits. Come on, you've had a bottle lingering in the bar for the last 46 years.

Careful There, Prometheus

Stupidity has enriched civilization, and here is my contribution.

New Improvements to the Podcast

Bought an MXL studio mic and Berhinger mixing board. Definitely improves the vocal quality and dynamic range. I will never sound like a garden gnome again!

Sneak preview of the Superbowl lineup, pix and recipes tomorrow.

Wild Mushroom Pizza

Gruyere and Parmesian Macaroni and Cheese

Phyllo Dough Straws

Chicken Wings

I figure it's the Superbowl, there's no need to get fu fu.

Thursday, February 02, 2006

Restaurant Grade Site

A friend of mine just sent me this link, which is an incalculably useful site, specific to the Los Angeles market.

Restaurant Grade Site

This is run by the LA public health department, and houses an extensive database of all restaurants and their grades. You can search by address, grade or name. It also breaks down why they received the grade they did, and their history.