Eat Shit!

Posted on May 15, 2012 by ezealot

My father just visited and it reminded me of a post I’ve been pondering for a while. This one is completely dedicated to him and the [very pleasant] childhood memories I have of his influence on my eating habits. Dad, I will always be proud to credit your for my joyous propensity to eat shit.

I grew up in a restaurant family. My grandparents and their siblings, my parents and extended family were mostly in the business. I was surrounded by food all of the time. In New Jersey in the 70s there wasn’t much more than diners, greasy spoons, coffee shops and luncheonettes. One could debate the actual classifications of our restaurants (as my father and I did this weekend) but they’re all really just variations on similar themes.

We’re talking breakfasts of bacon, eggs, pancakes, sausages, hash browns, omelets – and, because were close to Philly, scrapple and creamed-chipped-beef. For lunch it was soups, sandwiches with house-roasted turkey and corned-beef, meatloaf, steak-fries, beef stew, spaghetti & meatballs, pies, ice cream and milkshakes. Needless to say, I wasn’t exposed to many vegetables or healthy meals in my youth.

The other factor that influenced my love of all-things-crap was growing up at the Jersey shore. The staple of our diet was the sub (please don’t call it a hoagie, grinder or other such abomination). We ate subs. Serious subs. The “regular” or “italian” sub was a concoction of assorted deli meats, including mortadella, salami, ham, capicola and provolone cheese – slathered in oil and vinegar and stuffed into a hollowed out Formica Brother’s Roll (it has to be this bread – nothing else will do). There was also great meatball, cheesesteak and tuna versions. A “half-a-sub” was about 12″ – not the healthiest proportions or ingredients. But so fucking good!

The Zolot men are lucky, beyond compare. We are graced with a metabolism that allows us to consume ungodly quantities without gaining an ounce of fat until we hit 40 and even then it’s just plain unfair what we can get away with into our 70s. This leads to many interesting habits formed over a lifetime of indulgence. My son is clearly following in our footsteps as he consumes three breakfasts daily and remains a bean pole. This explains how things go even more awry. But I digress, so back to the tales…

I first started to notice my father’s monstrous appetite at a young age when, at any dinner table, plates would be shifted in his direction at the end of the meal. Anything not consumed by anyone present would be devoured and treasured by this champion eater. He’d laugh and joke as he consumed everything we’d leave behind. There were times where you’d have to protect your plate because he would be eyeing something across the table (before you were finished) that appealed to him, a defense you’d be smart to practice even today in his presence.

I started to come into my own as our family began taking regular trips to Boston to visit relatives. Here, our prized site was Quincy Market at Faneuil Hall. This was the holy grail of food courts in the country at the time. And we would eat our way from end to end. We’d order everything from pizza to sausage and peppers to seafood to bbq and on and on. My goal was to keep up with Dad. It was our bonding moment. We did well. I grew into a champion myself.

Fast forward. I am 43 years old and I still crave the foods of my childhood. So much so that I almost feel like I lead a secret life. Even the people that know me the best don’t quite understand the depth of my compulsion towards these sorts of foods. When I was working a job that required me to travel around all of the neighborhoods in San Francisco to call upon clients, I had a mental map of the places, these special places, that satisfy my deepest cravings. I’d relish the opportunity to visit my most miserable Pacific Heights clients because of the opportunities that bordered me by both north and south. The rare call in the Mission led me into serious naughtiness. Even today, my girlfriend lives just off Polk Street and I can do some serious damage within two blocks…

With all of this buried deep inside me, it is time that I expose my inner-map and share the wonders of shitty eating in our wonderful town. As it is past midnight when I write this, I will start with the obvious. When inspiration brings me to add to the list, I will update. Certainly bookmark if you share my obsession. And if you don’t, please refrain from judgement, as I am merely a product of my genetic disposition and environment. Thanks Dad!

Bob’s Donuts – Since I am sitting a block away and can smell the frying of the apple fritter [in my mind at least] let’s start here. This is old school donuting. Nothing fancy, but seriously good. The above mentioned fritter, the crumb, the buttermilk. Try those first.

Miller’s East Coast Deli – A 1/2 block in the other direction. Here you can do damage with Matzoh Ball soup, latkes and blintzes, but what moves me to post is the breakfast sandwich. A bagel (flown in from NYC), egg and cheese with bacon or ham? Get the eggs fried so the yolks ooze onto the bread. This is the closest you’ll find to the real deal.

The Cheesesteak Shop – This small chain (my outlet is on Divis) brings everything in from Philly. But you have to know how to order. Get the meal deal with steak fries (curly fries are for girls) and make sure to get the extra meat (they tend to be weak on it with a regular order – that’s the big difference in making this authentic). Don’t forget to order TastyKakes for dessert – my favorites being Butterscotch Crimpets (my father too) and Peanut butter KandyCakes.

Lucca Deli – The one in the Marina, not on Valencia. Big difference. Here you get deviled eggs. Crazy good potato salad – I’m serious you MUST try this stuff. Try a mortadella sandwich on acme sweet with imported provolone and olive oil and vinegar. Maybe a side of their meat ravioli (eaten cold with your sandwich).

Molinari Deli – Molinari lacks in the deli case compared to Lucca in my opinion. But not to be outdone they’e got a chicken cutlet that makes me do backflips. I’ll eat them plain, but to really go for it is to get a chicken parm sandwich. Get extra sauce so you can dip. I dare you to grab a cannoli from Stella Pastry up the street. I’m not dicking around here, people.

Gaspare’s – So, while we’re talking chicken parm, there isn’t a better one on the west coast. Or a better lasagna or veal milanese. All of them are heart stoppers. But you also come for the pizza. You knew that. It’s the most satisfying non-neapolitan pie in the city. Order it with pepperoni for sure, but if you’re me, you might add meatballs AND sausage.

Russian Bakery – Did you think you’d leave Geary & 19th (just next door to Gaspare’s) without some treats to take home? How about Russian meat-stuffed donuts, also known as piroshki? They also do them with cheese. Or maybe some blintzes, or pastry of all sorts. I couldn’t tell you the names, but the thing with the poppy seeds and the napoleon-type thing. Sublime.

Flower Market Cafe – You didn’t think there were diners in San Francisco that come close to New Jersey. Well, you’re right. But I do enjoy the [lack of] ambiance and [lack of] charm of the Flower Market cafe. And the food actually isn’t so bad. I come for the corned-beef hash. It’s old school. So not fancy. Smothered in ketchup.

Pork Store Cafe – The most satisfying breakfast for me is at this Mission or Haight eatery. I ignore the entire menu in favor of bacon, eggs and hash browns (yes, real greasy crispy HBs) and a biscuit with a side of sausage gravy. You try this and tell me your day won’t include a nap and a serious bout of deep moral regret. And smiles.

St. Francis Fountain – milkshakes & french fries. Nuff said.

Hamburgers – That’s right, it’s the name of the place. 737 Bridgeway in Sausalito. I will drive across the bridge regularly for these puppies. A rotisserie grill, spinning perfect, unfancy burgers with crinkle-cut french fries. Call your order in ahead. The line can get insane in the summer.

Da’Beef – I love a proper Chicago dog. If you don’t know what this means, you might not get it. For those who do, there are two places I know of to get them. This cart keeps sporadic hours on the corner of 7th and Folsom. It’s worth tracking them down. Their italian beef isn’t bad either.

Moishe’s Pippic – If you want a more regular shot at the Chicago Dog, this Hayes Valley gem does them perfect. Plus you can get a mean Matzoh Ball soup, corned beef, pastrami, chopped liver and brisket (on fridays) sandwich. Plus Abel and Joe and two of the most affable people you’ll meet.

Gorilla BBQ – Drive down to Pacifica so you can eat solid BBQ out of a train caboose. The novelty is fun, but the food isn’t so shabby.

Memphis Minnies – But if you’re looking for decent BBQ in the city, Minnies is my pick. I like the unencumbered meat and their sauce choices. The mac and cheese is respectable.

Ok, you’ve got a great start here. More to come soon, I promise. And show me some love if you like these. I want to hear your favorites.

And more…

Arinell is what a New York slice of pizza should be (on Valencia St). It’s greasy, it’s big, it comes with tattoos, meth heads and a ton of funk. And they’ve got a proper slice of Sicilian. That is real east-coast.

McDonalds – I’m gonna go out on a limb here. Piss off some people. But at breakfast time, the unholiest of chains has the deal of deals on a satisfying tidbit. The dollar menu. Hash browns and Sausage McMuffin or Sausage Biscuit $2.17 with tax – yes I know that. There, I said it. I do this sometimes and I’m tired of hiding it. And it’s really fucking satisfying in a way for which I should be locked up. Sue me. Take away my foodie creds. You’re all snobs anyway.

Speaking of satisfying, I have to mention, with no apparent benefit to anyone, that I tried to most amazing breakfast burrito last year at my friend’s annual party in Paso Robles and I cannot wait to have it again this year. The crazy woman who made these put eggs, sausage, crispy hash browns, bits of biscuits and sausage gravy in a burrito. Never had better.

Ketch Joanne – I failed to get enough deep fried action for you. And for that, I’m headed down to Pillar Point Harbor, right where I get my crabs off the boat. Fish and chips, fried shrimp – anything fried is good here, and also clam chowder. Run down, down home, home style – all good.

Tu Lan – Continuing with fried, their fried spring rolls are nom nom times nom nom. Sure, get some ginger chicken or other such nonsense, but a proper Vietnamese spring roll (done with lettuce, noodles, carrots, sweet sauce, mint) is a thing of epic beauty. Plus it’s 6th Street. And if something is going down, it’s going down on 6th Street.

Don’t Call It A Frittata!

Posted on February 28, 2012 by ezealot

The Tortilla Espanola suffers an identity crisis here in the United States. Call it simply a Tortilla, as they do in Spain, and it is mistaken for the flat flour or corn wrap used in Mexican cuisine. Serve it at a dinner party and invariably it will be referred to as a Frittata, an Italian omelette of similar shape that is stuffed with veggies, meats and cheeses. The English translation is commonly “Spanish Omelette”, but order one of those in a New Jersey diner and you get a regular omelette with peppers, onions and other such stuff.

To me, the Tortilla Espanola shames all comparisons with it’s casual elegance. There is a rarefied space in the world of cuisine where certain dishes can achieve such elegance with only a few ingredients. It is the sum of their parts that becomes transcendent.

If there were a national dish of Spain, I’d look to the Tortilla. It’s everywhere. Pull in to a gas station in Rioja and there’s one cooling, fresh from the oven. Every cafe in Madrid has a line of them. North, South, East, West – the Tortilla is ubiquitous. Even in Basque country, where they posses their own cuisine, the Tortilla shines amidst all of the magnificent Pintxos.

In my obsession to elevate simple foods by focusing on the ingredients, I’ve crossed the Tortilla’s path many times. Anyone can make the dish. Most will be pretty good. But, in my opinion, to do it right, you’ve got to start with the finest components. Here’s how it goes.

Eggs, onions, potatoes, oil, salt and pepper. That’s it. Easy right? Yes, actually. But break it down a bit. We’ve talked about pastured eggs before. Here is one of the perfect places to let those eggs shine. The deep yolk egginess goes perfectly with the potatoes and onions. The salt takes it higher.

For the potatoes, I’m spoiled. Our farmer’s market has a stall with the most insane varieties of deeply flavored, well-cared-for spuds of all shapes and sizes. I particularly like these banana fingerlings I picked up last week. But any flavorful potato will do. Avoid waxy or watery varieties. A good yellow would do the trick. Peel and cut them to about 1/4″ thick on a mandolin or in your food processor. Make sure the pieces aren’t bigger than 3/4″ in any direction. It helps with layering the final product.

Some nice sweet yellow onions are next, sliced thinly. I picked up Dirty Girl farms onions this week. This is my favorite farm. They can do no wrong. For salt, I’m partial to Maldon Sea Salt. Oil is mostly always Bariani in our house.

Sauté the onions and potatoes slowly in a non-stick fry pan with some olive oil. Use enough potatoes to fill the pan about half way. Cover them and toss them frequently to evenly cook. Do not let them brown. They’re done when the potatoes are fork tender, al dente and the onions are golden. You’ll get the feel.

I prefer to let the mixture cool down before combining with the eggs. Salt them to taste. Whisk up the eggs with a splash of milk until fully combined. Use enough eggs to envelope the potatoes and onions, but not so much that it is soupy. Think stew’y, like 40% egg 60% potato. Mas or meno. Salt again. You’ll get the feel.

Clean out the fry pan and re-oil. Make sure it is clean so the Tortilla doesn’t stick. Return the mixture and cook on low-medium heat until the sides start to form. Run a spatula around the edges to keep from sticking. Add more oil if necessary. When the circle starts to set about 1/4 distance from the edges, transfer the pan to a 350° oven until the eggs are fully set. Just before pulling it out, turn on the broiler for a minute to lightly brown the top.

Remove from the oven and run the spatula through again. Shake the pan to loosen the Tortilla. When you’re certain it is free, place a plate on top so you can flip it out. Let it cool down to room temperature or cooler before serving. This dish is definitely better at cooler temps. Too hot just doesn’t do it justice.

Not sure how I got to 700+ words on Tortilla Espanola already, but that speaks volumes about the dish. So, stop calling this a Frittata, place it in the pantheon of your best, most trusted dishes. Serve it once a month at a dinner party, with the cheeses as a starter. Pair it with a crisp white wine and live like a Spaniard! You’ll get the feel.

Happy-Ness

Posted on January 30, 2012 by ezealot

We tend to go through our lives, head down, plugging away at the things we do to pay our bills, to entertain us, to keep in shape, to connect with our community and to stimulate our minds. This is the best way I can describe life in the modern era. We use technology to attempt to better our existence, but I believe in hindsight these will be seen as the dark ages. We’re suffering through inefficiencies in order to embrace the possibility of better living through technology, but we’re far from there.

Last year I had an idea. A clear vision, that made my heart race and kept me up at nights with child-like excitement that I may have found my way to contribute to the collective. A solution to a problem. A big problem. The right solution.

I shared my idea with a handful of my circle and it was deemed a great idea, for the most part. I enlisted my greater community to guide me is moving this idea forward and connect me to others that could help complete the vision. I sat in front of a handful of generous colleagues in the venture capital world who would help me to refine this idea and take steps towards building something.

One of my advisors put me in touch with a lovely and talented young lad named Ben. Ben is a rising star in the tech world and holds the attention of many people through his popular reporting and musings on the business of tech. Ben flipped for the idea and saw a better future as a result of it. We instantly clicked and decided to partner and get down to business.

I quickly learned that most technology startups need to be bootstrapped to create a product, any product, before any investor will talk to you. It’s the way things are done now. Ideas don’t float like in the days of bubble and bloat. You need a tangible representation of your ability to build and create. I leaned that a startup is best founded by the general personality types of a designer, a distributor and a developer. We needed a developer.

I soon learned that many of the great software developers are poached early-on to work for Google or Facebook. And those with experience often start their own projects. I went to “Founder Dating” events to track down engineering talent and realized that there are many many people who are trying to fulfill their dreams of better living through technology. I learned that most people don’t go very far with it.

Ben and I hit a wall. This idea was just too good to let it slip away, but neither of us were able to find an entrepreneurial-minded engineer co-founder. We had to pay our bills. We gently let the idea slip. I took the summer off to hang out with my son. Ben starting looking around for other things.

Whilst exploring the world of internet startups, two of my advisors told me about a similar concept that was under development by a team of young, enthusiastic and well-connected silicon valley / Berkeley minds. I was intrigued. Truth be told, after twenty years of doing the entrepreneurial heavy lifting, I was ready to consider a back seat. Perhaps my next pathway was on the shoulders of those smarter and more aggressive than I?

The idea that I had last year, the one that kept me up at nights and that offered better living through technology was essentially directed at this problem… The thing we lack most right now in our daily attempts to use technology to get what we want, is relevancy. We search, research, click, dig, read, review, filter, sort, gauge, judge, ask, refine, share, borrow, test, report, compare, and on and on. Then, after all of this, we decide. It all just seems like we’ve given ourselves information overload through the likes of Google and Yelp and we’ve complicated life rather than simplify it. Technology is not helping us.

There are a lot of people trying to solve this problem. Unfortunately, I think most of them have missed the target. I won’t get into specifics and only time will tell who floats to the top. Sure there are many ways to skin a cat (by the way, how much do I LOVE this phrase and hate cats at the same time!), so time will tell who has the secret sauce. Enter Ness.

Ness is short for Likeness (http://likeness.com) and is answering the problem in the exact way I envisioned, perhaps even better. They are using machine learning to predict human behavior and suggest solutions to the shit over which we obsess and waste time. The idea is that everybody has their own “Ness”. I have AdamNess, you have YourNess. It’s the thing that defines us. It’s what separates us from each other. Yet we overlap, we cross-pollinate, we share and influence and make similar choices. So, Ness understands who we are and who others are enough to recommend things we’ll likely like.

Their first demonstration of this technology is in the Ness Dining Guide iPhone application (link to iTunes). Check it out. See how it does for you. I’d love to hear what you think. Why? Because the Zealot is entering the workforce again. Yes, so you’ve probably figured out that this post is a pitch in support of my current employer (currently as a consultant). But I don’t shill for just any company. These guys are the real deal and I believe in this thing. So, I’m giving you the inside scoop. Go get yours.

There are many ways this technology could help us beyond food: books, movies, events, travel, etc…Ultimately Ness can change the way we make decisions. In theory, if something knew us well enough to narrow our choices, technology would actually make our lives easier. It’s a simple concept with a complicated solution. It’s the current tech holy grail.

So off I go into that goodNess. I shall continue to muse to you, my loyals. And perhaps one of these days I’ll get back to talking about restaurants or food. Or, maybe, you won’t need me anymore if Ness does its job.

The Secret Sauce

Posted on December 13, 2011 by ezealot

I’ve lived a fine life. When I was 16, as many young American Hebrews do, I took a trip to Israel to explore the motherland and deepen my connection to the religion. For me it worked in the other direction. I saw so many secular Israelis, seemingly fulfilling the Zionist mission, yet absent of piety and reverence. They just were. People connected to their history but not wrapped up in god or dogma. I never looked back.

Then came college. Somehow, I cannot recall how I wound up doing my final year abroad in Italy. Seriously, I don’t know what led me to this decision. I knew nothing abut the place, had no connection (other than my mother’s half-Italian heritage, which merely meant good spaghetti and meatballs in our house). But there I was, deep in the experience of learning Italian history, culture, language, art, archaeology… I never looked back.

After I graduated college my first and only job was in the travel industry. I stumbled upon it while looking for anything I could do after moving to Boulder, Colorado on a whim. I was planning to study nautical archaeology at CU, as there was a professor who focused on Roman ports in Israel, the perfect marriage of my passions. To pay the bills, I took a position with a tour company specializing in adventures in Southeast Asia. I was a Mac guy that could work magic on their Filemaker database. Soon I was spending months a year in Asia building their sales division and becoming a noted expert on travel in Asia. I never looked back.

I’m fortunate to say that travel is my greatest passion that I’ve continually fulfilled. It’s my familiar. I slip it on easily. Throughout the ups and downs of life, I always seek to create new experiences by discovering new lands. In fact, I really live for the next trip. No matter what I’m doing, I want to know that I have two or three weeks in the not so distant future that will recharge my batteries. It the only way I know how to accept and manage the doldrums of normal life (ok, it’s not so bad, really…but you get the point).

Now, on the road in Argentina, discovering a new place, yet again, with a life very different than my last trip to Spain in 2010 and Greece in 2009, I’ve noticed a trend. First, it doesn’t matter where life has taken us, when we travel we reconnect with ourselves. Without the pressures of our daily grind, the expectations we set for ourselves, the routine…it’s easier to get to the root and be present. Moreover, when we experience another culture a traveler will relinquish his predisposition, ignorance and fears and become more receptive to what the universe offers. We let go a little easier, we experience a little deeper.

On this trip I’ve already found a deep connection to Argentina. I know it, even after just a few days. The formula adds up – they have the secret sauce. It’s not hard for my readers to see that my favorite places in the world are Thailand and Italy. I speak both languages passably and have returned time and again, something I haven’t done in many of the other lands I’ve visited. When I look at the commonalities between the places, and now add Argentina to the mix, there is a pattern: I like places that have a broad geographical diversity, Thailand’s north and south couldn’t be more different. Italy’s have practically seceded from each other. Argentina has Patagonia and wine country and Buenos Aires and more. There’s a casual elegance about everything here. Its not Europe, but it’s got the same charm. Then there are the people, friendly and welcoming all across the board. In each of these places you really feel like you can get a sense of their true experience. They welcome you to participate.

But most importantly, and I wouldn’t be the Zealot if it weren’t so, each country reigns supreme on their continent for food. Sure, you can argue that Vietnamese is better than Thai or French is superior to Italian or the Brazilians or Chileans outdo the Argentines. But this is my blog and I’m the one ranting. So, I’ll say it. Thai, Italian and Argentine food sensibilities speak to me and I consider them the best. I dream of Thai noodles and curries. I lust after handmade pasta and regional Italian cuisine. And so far, I’m quite impressed with Argentine seafood, empanadas and of course the beef. I’m looking forward to two more weeks of exploration.

I love that there are common threads in these places. I am glad to be uncovering this secret sauce of my own. I’m positively certain we all have our own secret sauces. It helps me to understand me a little better. It gives me joy to have places that I can return and feel at home, so far away, yet so familiar. I’m loving being present. And, I’ll never look back…

It’s The Ingredients, Stupid!

Posted on December 11, 2011 by ezealot

I’ve reached the ass-end of the world, and it’s actually quite lovely! No joke…after a three hour flight to Dallas followed by a ten hour flight to Buenos Aires, then a fourty-five minute bus ride to Aeroparque and a four hour flight to Ushuaia, you just run out of room. There ain’t much further you can travel.

In fact, when looking at the expansion patterns of early man, starting in the Rift Valley, across the Bering Strait land bridge, through the Americas – this was the last place they landed. 10,000 years ago, when civilizations were starting to develop in earnest (good morning Mesopotamia!), the last place mankind reached was here. Tierra Del Fuego. Cape Horn. Bumfuck Argentina.

There’s a barren windswept quality to the place. Rugged mountains, frigid seas. Big ice-breakers and Antartica-bound cruise ships. Yet it is still Argentina, which means really-charming, European (almost), civilized, and… well-fed. Stunning, actually. And who would expect, a place to find a really good meal. Really good.

I’d read about the quality restaurants in Ushuaia, but that’s very relative and subjective. I certainly can’t trust Yelp or Tripadvisor for relevant reviews. Ness, the only recommendation resource of any worth, hasn’t expanded outside of the USA, so I’m left to my own devices. Tales of legendary fish at a place called Kaupè lured us to try, even though prices were more in line with Danko than Ushuaia. Lonely Planet ranked this place the #4 restaurant in South America. Here? Really?

We entered a lovely house-like dining room where the chef-owner was standing in his whites, talking to guests. The place had a hush to it like many temples-of-food I’d visited in the past. Not as quiet as French Laundry, but that similar anticipatory reverence. The view is lovely, with large windows opening up to the Channel Beagle. There were large hunks of pure white fish on most plates, blinding white, impossibly white. There were few accoutrements.

We ordered from a small food menu and a massive wine list of argentine varietals. Katia would have a Sea Bass in black butter. She was craving fish, singing about it, dancing at the thought after our two days of travel and airplane food. King Crab in the chef’s sauce for me. Carpaccio and scallop appetizers. Malbec.

Hot yummy house-made bread was delivered with a spinach cream in lieu of butter. Heavenly. The wine was sublime. Scallops were fresh and tasty swimming in a light interpretation of Lyonaisse. The carpaccio was outrageous, topped with a local cheese and large capers. Everyone talks about the quality of Argentine beef. My first taste was raw and it was magic.

But it was the white brick of fish we wanted. When it came to the table we nearly needed sunglasses. Did I mention it was snow white? One bite and Katia melted: “best fish I’ve ever had”. The sauce was excellent, but it really just complimented the moist and tender sea bass. It didn’t need much. We plowed through it with abandon, almost treating my wonderful king crab as a side dish.

A quick non sequitur. The one side dish we did have were some potatoes with a light mustard sauce. Any time I travel, potatoes are extremely different than home. Small in stature, deep in flavor, the non-US potato is a treat. Most US potatoes leave me flat. Why can’t we figure this one out. Even the best farmers market potatoes seem to lack that non-US depth of flavor. Maybe it’s the water?

Which leads me to the title of this post. After our meal we sat and talked with the chef until closing time. He was quiet and affable, self-taught…a local, in fact. This left me quizzical. what was his preparation of this fish, what was the technique? How did he accomplish what our trained chefs in SF seem to miss so often with fish? He smiled and said “it’s the ingredients” (I’ve added the ‘stupid’ part to reflect my own snarkiness). The fish, the beef, the potatoes – he gets them every day from the source and they happen to be very good sources.

I’ll give the man more credit for his handling of these ingredient, but as we all quest for perfection in our culinary goals it’s not a bad mantra to keep in our heads: As we murder, molest, marinade and mangle our food sometime we need to just step back, get to the root of flavor and remember that “It’s the ingredients, stupid”.

The Five Course Thanksgiving

Posted on November 25, 2011 by ezealot

I’m just scraping myself up off the floor. Literally. Last night I slept on my couch, in my bed, on my ottoman, on a storage bench and, yes, on the floor. You see, I think I’ve been very vocal about our Thanksgiving tequila tradition. Last night was no exception. In fact, it was epic. There were loving, heated discussions at decibels that can crack ear drums. There were torrid hookups and meltdowns, singing, crying and vomiting. There was also a lot of love. My family and friends came together and weren’t shy about expressing their feelings. Aided by the tequila, it was a true love fest. And I got shitty drunk.

Now, as a look back on the day, which began at noon and ended around 10:30pm, I can’t recall any stress from cooking or the flow of the night. Everything went nearly perfectly. I’ll blame the tequila for the slightly overcooked bread puddings and definitely for the full-on-burnt-croutons. Imagine how I could fuck up BOTH dishes with Tartine Country Bread? Oy.

So, I’m standing by my previous post. My preparations were spot-on and the food exceeded my expectations. Which leads me to another topic on Thanksgiving that is post-worthy. How do you plan a day of food, with a lot of attendees without suffering from cacophonous plate syndrome? Typical Thanksgiving just doesn’t work. Sweet potatoes AND mashed potatoes on the same place? Turkey, stuffing, cranberries, vegetables, bread rolls side by side? Sorry – it’s just doesn’t work. Yeah, I know, it’s your tradition – you look forward to it every year. But from a foodist perspective, it’s just plain wrong.

So, for the past ten years or so, I’ve been doing Thanksgiving in courses. Start early, plan to include some of the typical flavors in the starter courses, but eliminate some of the clutter from the main course. All tolled, I probably cook 3-4 starter dishes, small plates, lots of flavor. Then comes the main course, typically with Turkey, potato, stuffing, veggie. It’s still a lot, but works a lot cleaner than the norm. Then we have two or three dessert options.

I typically reinterpret sweet potatoes. This is a food that can have many faces and has shown up as Sweet Potato Risotto, Sweet Potato Tortilla Espanola, Sweet Potato Gnocchi and this year’s Sweet Potato Agnolotti with Browned Butter Sage Cream. I used a Thomas Keller Recipe ‘to the letter’ and it was drop-dead amazing.

This year, the menu looked like this:

Guests arrive at noon. Cousin Amy rocked a charcuterie ensemble for the ages. AND she made Gougères, straight outta Julia Child. They were stunning.

1. (1:00pm) Crab-Cake-Style Shrimp Cakes with Poblano Greek Yogurt Puree
2. (2:00pm) Sliky Celery Root Soup with Black Forest Bacon
3. (3:00pm) Sweet Potato Agnolotti with Browned Butter Sage Cream
4. (5:00pm) Cider Glazed Turkey with Lager Gravy
Savory Bread Puddings with Green Onion, Sage Sausage and Goat Cheese
Marsha’s Mashed Potatoes
Dirty Girl Farm’s Radicchio Salad with Pomegranate Vinaigrette
5. (8:00pm) Amy’s Pear Crisp with Bourbon Cream
Tartine Coconut Cream Tart and Assorted Cookies
“Baked” Red Velvet Layered Cake

The timing went off without a hitch. Because everything was prepped, it was just a matter of minor finishes and assembly for each dish. After we finished a dish it gave us a chance to clean up and mingle. It feels like you really get to catch up with people this way.

I’m happy to share most of these recipes, but frankly, you can google or search foodandwine.com to uncover many of them (my crab cake recipe is on this site). I do a lot of interpretation and adaptation of the base recipes, but it’s a good start. Some day I should share the soup recipe – I kinda rocked it.

So ditch the traditional nonsense. Go for Thanksgiving in courses. Your guests will appreciate it and soon forget the messy plate piles of portions past.

* Note: Crab season didn’t happen this year. The fisherman are in dispute with the buyers over $.50 per pound. It’s a shame, as this is our favorite tradition each year. The substitution of shrimp was a game-saver (they were quite good), but it just isn’t the same. A big shout out to Tom Borden for paddling his surfboard out in epic swells to drop traps. Unfortunately he on came up with two crabs (he believes the traps were poached).

The Four Days of Thanksgiving

Posted on November 23, 2011 by ezealot

By choosing atheism I have taken the wind out of a lot of holidays. I could easily get bogged down in a defensive posture to rally against the inconsistencies and fairytales that comprise the pandemic delusions we call religion. Ebenezer Scrooge ain’t got nothing on an atheist. With all of our crazy ‘logic’ and silly ‘reason’ we approach the holidays with skepticism and sensitivity that can suck out the joy and the merry.

Some could argue that we don’t deserve to celebrate many holidays and we should just leave the praising parties to the pious. Historically, I call foul. Atheists love to point out that many of the holidays celebrated today are actually poached from pagan traditions. Your Christmas was really winter solstice. Your easter was a fertility festival. And we all know that Hanukah is just an excuse for Jews to give presents, not to be outdone by their Christian neighbors.

Thanksgiving, while decidedly non-religious, isn’t without exception. In my twenties and thirties I would call it “the rape and pillage of the Native American homeland day”. Today, that just seems douchey. In my forties life is all about acceptance, awareness and balance. Moreover, I’d rather focus my energies on being a foodist and a hedonist. A Holiday centered around food. Sign me up!

Plus there’s this whole idea of giving thanks – what a novel concept! In the past few years I’ve undergone a deep exploration of the nature of appreciation, giving and receiving. A dear old friend and mentor, Jim Freedom recently told me “If you ask yourself what you really want from life, would that not include what we call the ‘light’; appreciation, joy, love, gratitude? And that comes with practice. The quality of our life experience is reflected in how we emotionally react to what life is offering.” Damn, that’s some good juice!

So what better way for me, the zealous epicurean, to offer thanks & appreciate to my community – to the universe, than through food! Thanksgiving is the perfect holiday for me and mine. As a child I loved visiting my relatives in Boston for Thanksgiving, who now live out here in California. We’ve re-dedicated a tradition to celebrate together with my friends and extended family here. Through college and beyond I developed many of my current Thanksgiving practices (tequila, in particular) with the Colorado contingent of my family. I miss celebrating with them and hope someday we can join forces again. And, for the past decade, I’ve become the host. I own Thanksgiving. It’s my hold-it-now. It’s my rhyme.

I hear many people get nervous about preparing the annual meal-of-meals. Like New Year’s Eve is for partying, Thanksgiving is amateur night for cooking. It’s the one time a year many people will host a dozen-twenty people and they’re stymied. The problem is in the preparation. Many people don’t allow themselves the time to tackle turkey-day tenderly. It’s a four-day event, people. No more, no less. You don’t need full days, just a few hours each to get in stride for cooking on Wed.

DAY 1 – Monday
You should have planned a menu a while ago. In my next post I will share with you my 2011 menu. I like to reinvent traditional dishes and sometimes tackle a theme. With the right preparation you can actually get creative. Go to foodandwine.com or saveur.com or epicurious.com – narrow down your choices and print out a stack of options. Plan to enter Monday with recipes in hand, raring to go.

Create your shopping list today. I find the best way is to take all of the recipes and go through them one by one, listing the ingredients on a spreadsheet. Then put the amounts of each item in the row (for example butter might have 8tbs + 2 sticks + 4tbs for multiple recipes). Then I’ll add up the amounts and round them up to cover my butt. I’ll add a column to identify which store to obtain the item (I often hit 3-4 stores for Thanksgiving). You could even break it down by sections within the store (produce, dairy). This makes it easy to tackle the shopping tomorrow.

Day 2 – Tuesday
Get your shopping done today. Everyone else is going to be clambering at the stores on Wed. go early when the shelves are stocked and the staff aren’t burnt out.

I also use Tuesday to do my most advance preparations. Anything I can cut, prep, chop or prepare and freeze today, knock it out. The more you finish today, the easier tomorrow will be.

Day 3 – Wednesday
This is your big day. If you want to actually enjoy Thanksgiving, get it done today. It is important to think about execution tomorrow and how you can utilize the available oven and stovetop space effectively. Remember, the turkey is going to take up the entire oven for most of the day. If you can prepare the other oven dishes to near finality, you can heat them up while the turkey is resting. We often plan our meals in multiple courses to avoid the major crush of turkey time. It allows us to space out the day and relax a little bit, enjoying each dish on it’s own (of course you want to have your turkey and it’s sides together, but try to keep the plate piling to a minimum).

Prepare everything so that the dishes that must be cooked tomorrow (turkey and mashed potatoes are the only ones I leave for Thursday) can be done with ease and focus. Brine or season your turkey and put it aside. Start your gravy with the neck and giblets and put it aside to add turkey juices tomorrow. Get all of your side dishes completely done and ready to finish a la minute. Your fridge should be stacked high with everything labeled and a schedule in hand of how you will execute. Moreover, you should prepare your serving dishes (with labels) and serving utensils. Don’t leave anything to chance.

Day 4 – Thursday
I put my turkey in the oven early. I cook it low and slow. Real slow. Potatoes go along side. Everyone else is busying setting the tables and decorating so I can focus on basting the bird, pulling things in an out of the oven and executing dish after dish with minimal effort. When my guests arrive (we start at noon), I want to be able to mix and mingle and only return to the kitchen to put the final touches on something before it is served.

So, on this day of Thanks – I wish my best to you and yours. Many of my readers are part of my family, my community. We’re all connected in one way or another. I revel in the glory of connection. I am thankful for the wonderful people in my life and for the opportunity to share my views and be heard. Enjoy your Thanksgiving, hopefully with some organized calm. If not, next year. Now you know.

Legendary Brussels Sprouts

Posted on November 12, 2011 by ezealot

I apologize Mom, but I’m about to throw you under the bus. Growing up we did not eat many vegetables. And if we did, they probably came out of a can. My mother will argue the point. “We ate veggies”, she protests, “carrots, peas, corn”. I do have some recollection of the canned peas and butter with mashed potatoes on meatloaf nights. Carrots were special occasion food, often glazed. Corn, well, I suppose – canned, creamed, cobbed – is that a vegetable? But my body chemistry is comprised primarily of pasta, tomato sauce, Spaghettios, meatloaf, meatballs, beef stew and Dino’s cheese tuna.

For restaurant people, this might sound strange. But we served diner food and were ashkenzaik Jews. There must not be a lot of arable land in Israel or Eastern Europe, cause the veggie seems to have escaped the ashkenazi diet (except overcooked carrots in brisket and soup). I simply don’t recall ever seeing a green vegetable. My sister, though non-confrontational when it comes to family issues, would likely concur.

As an adult I’ve gone kicking and screaming into the world of vegetables. Steamed or boiled are the worst. I mean really – these things don’t taste good naturally, so why kill the texture without adding flavor? Raw is better, but I’d opt to throw them in a juicer rather than choke down the acrid flavors of raw broccoli or chard. Give me au gratin or a puree with parmigiano or anything else to disguise or enhance.

Yet, somehow I’ve managed to find enjoyment in one of the most universally despised members of the vegetable kingdom, the brussels sprout. In the 70s and 80s the brussels sprout was the stuff of legendary tales of woe. I don’t think I ever actually saw one in person, but it was synonymous for the avoidable. Images of kids making foul faces while choking down brussels is all I needed cement my impressions.

As I have grown into eating seasonally and exploring different flavors I’ve naturally been exposed to brussels sprouts in Northern California. They’re everywhere. And people seemed to love them! Wha? Huh? C’mon. For reals, yo? Yup, true dat. So gently I wandered into that good night. And to my surprise, I loved them too! When roasted or pan fried they can gain a sugary crust and people were pairing them with bacon, well…anything with bacon works for me.

Over the years I’ve played with different recipes and massaged my favorites toward the exceptional. My dear friend, and talented designer, Jennifer Kesteloot [click to see her awesome site] claims that I make the best brussels sprouts ever. Don’t go near her at a dinner party where they are served, because she’ll eat your hand off if you linger too long by them. I recently received a request on Facebook to post a recipe from a batch I made at Sundance festival last year. Word is out.

So, here we go with my go-to recipe, and if I can muster the energy, I’ll give a newer variation at the end.

Brussel Sprouts with Pancetta and Vinegar

Preheat and oven to 350. Allow for about 5-10 whole sprouts per person. Remove any brown leaves. Cut them in half and place them face down in a sauté pan in a single layer – don’t stack them. I often have to use two or three pans to accommodate my parties. Drizzle some olive oil over top of them and in between them. Perhaps about two tablespoons per 12″ pan. Cut some pancetta into thin slivers about 1″ tall and 1/8″ wide. Spread them over top of the sprouts liberally.

Turn the flame on to medium high to high. Don’t be afraid of the heat. Let them sit. Let them sit. Let them sit. The trick here is to develop a char on them. Leave em alone and wait until they get pretty brown. The natural sugars here will seal in flavor and add sweetness. Check them by just turning one over too see and when they are all brown enough, give the pan a few shakes to loosen them all up. Once they are loose you can toss them about to get the pancetta spread around and starting to cook for a moment.

Next, grab some vinegar and deglaze the pan, while tossing the sprouts. Be liberal. I have been using Sherry vinegar lately with great success, but if you prefer sweeter try balsamic or even some of the fancy flavored ones like a citrus or pomegranate. Experiment. Then take the whole pan and put it in the oven until the pancetta crisps and the sprouts are fork tender. You can keep them warm in here by turning the oven to 200 if you want to prepare ahead.

Lastly, when you are ready to serve, toss some more vinegar, salt and pepper to taste. Serve warm.

Ok, quickly, I’ll give you number two…

Fried Brussels Sprout Leaves with Lemon

Take the sprouts and peel the leaves. This is tedious but worth the effort. Collect the leaves in a bowl. Prepare a deeper pot with about a cup of oil – olive or canola or a mix, depending on how much flavor you want to add. Get the oil to 350 degrees and toss in the leaves. Stir them and fry them until they are tender and slightly crispy. Not too much, not too little.

Drain the leaves well on paper towels and put them in a metal bowl. Add some flaky sea salt, pepper, lemon zest and juice to taste. Toss the leaves and add some freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano. Serve warm.

Become the legend within you with these recipes. Embrace your inner herbivore. My mom is coming to visit next week, so I’m bound to get an earful. Just know that you can break the cycle…my son eats his vegetables!

Thought Different

Posted on October 6, 2011 by ezealot

I’m not much for mourning. Truth is, I tend to take the cosmic view that we’re just a bunch of worthless meat-sacks that occupy a cooling lava rock with an incredibly random collection of evolutionary circumstances that keep us ahead of our ever-impending extinction. We’re always just one meteor strike shy of going the way of the dinosaur. Someone dies. Yes, and…

But with Steve Jobs I feel like I’ve been witness to the life of a historical figure that rivals the greatest that have ever occupied the planet. To me, Steve actually helped to make it worthwhile to live on this rock. He fused the realms of work and leisure into a holistic life, fueled by innovation in the exciting world of computing technology. He dared to analyze the way humans interact with themselves, each other, things – and decided to change it by enlisting some of the greatest minds of our time to simply make life better. Thousands of years from now (if the meteor hasn’t hit yet) people (or whatever evolves [x-men] or devolves [tea party] next as the dominant beings) will remember Mr. Jobs singularly. When you weed out the riff raff of potential historical potent potables spanning the centuries that comprise the American Empire, I believe that the legacy of Apple Computer and the era of Steve Jobs will be at the top of a short list of those that have profoundly had an unquestionable affect on the course of humanity.

Steve Jobs

This may sound like extreme fanboyism. I’ll allow myself such extremities. If there is one avenue that I have traveled without falter over the last 25 years, it is my unswerving dedication to all things Apple. I can proudly say that since 1985 I have not used any other brand of computer as my primary instrument of work and pleasure than an Apple. I have owned Plus, II, SE, Classic, Quadra, Powerbook, Powerbook Duo, LC, PowerMac, Power Macintosh, G3, G4, DV, iMac Colors, iMac DV, iMac Soccer Ball, iMac Silver, iBook, Mac Mini, Macbook Air, MacBook Pro, iPod, iPhone, 3G, 3GS, 4, Nano, Shuffle, Touch, AppleTV, iPad (yes, Newton is missing – so sue me). I have never had a friend, business colleague or family member that I did not attempt to convert to the Apple world (and was successful in most cases – finally Dad!). The dirty little secret that I held in my judgement of people was that if you weren’t a Mac person, you weren’t getting it. Life, as defined by PC or Mac, was the neatest little compartment I could use, above all others: Democrat or Republican, Jew or Goy, Star Wars or Star Trek, Cagney or Lacey…When I met someone new, if I determined they used Macs, we were immediately simpatico.

The passing of Steve, in itself, isn’t terribly shocking. He’s been sick for years. We’ve had time to prepare. His resignation last month was a clear indication that he received the news: your time has come. He was smart enough to step down and take his final days to pass the torch, as best he could. We should have been more prepared. But yesterday hit me, and billions of others, like a ton of bricks. Why were we so affected? I think the world took a collective gasp, not for what we will miss about Steve Jobs as he lived, but more for what we will miss about Steve Jobs had he continued to live.

What saddens me most, and I think I can speak for the billions, is that the work of Mr. Jobs isn’t done (as the iPhone 4S clearly shows). The next äppärät that changes the world is now left in the hands of lesser beings. As much as I don’t want to succumb to such reverence, I look around at the other lifestyle brands in the world and I’m actually scared. Over the past 30 years, so few companies have been able to create anything close to a product with the same impact as this one company, headed by this one man…

But hope does exist. One of the greatest emotions I experienced yesterday was a surge of enthusiasm for what I could personally do to emulate the vision of Steve Jobs and change my own little slice of the world. With the passing of Steve, I was able to finally bottle my reverence for the man and determine to put it to use in whatever path I choose to travel (drinking the proverbial Kool-Aid). I shared this with my friend who is living in Bali, trying to make his own changes, and I realized that this could be viral. He too had the same thoughts and feelings. Apparently, people around the world are processing the death of their hero by capturing some of his essence and applying it to their lives. Go figure.

So as we move into a Post-Steve era, I will remain optimistic. Apple will continue with the minds that Steve approved. They probably have a life-cycle of at least 5 years of products that Steve green-lighted before he passed. There’s more to come. But moreover, perhaps there’s a spark, a light, some vision, that has passed on to the masses that will lead to the next era of innovation. Maybe Apple’s stranglehold of superiority in industrial design, human interface and problem-solving-through-technology will find its way into the soul of a generation of entrepreneurs, visionaries and super-industrialists? Maybe we can stand on our own two feet, learn from the master and change the world ourselves. Maybe Steve’s greatest legacy is actually…us? Genius.

Where to…Eat, Now?

Posted on August 22, 2011 by ezealot

Life in San Francisco is hectic enough. Between our jobs, zumba-pilates-yoga-triathalontraining, family life, friends, fetishes and foundations who really has the time to keep on top of the restaurant scene? Obviously this is one of my greatest passions and I still find myself getting scooped or unawares of the next great food truck, pop up or dining hot spot. I can only imagine how daunting it is for people with normal time or interest.

Still, we’re a food obsessed town. Everyone wants to try out the latest Beard-nominated phenom. When your friends come to town from Paris, you just want to give them that insider experience – don’t you? But where to begin? How can you keep on top of things without spending days combing the interwebs looking for relevant information. And who can you trust?

Following is a breakdown of my favorite ways to get information about dining in San Francisco. But frankly, I think most of the resources I use are national, so if you find yourself in New York, Chicago or LA, this could easily be applicable.

THE LIST
For the aforementioned ‘friends in town’ scenario – the best place to start is at our dear old friend sf.eater.com. On the “38 Essential San Francisco Restaurants” page, superstar editor Carolyn Alburger painstakingly updates monthly the “in” places in the Bay. She even comments on why places are added or removed. It’s really the greatest resource we have for knowing where you ‘should’ be eating. There’s even a handy map if you’re trying to zero in on a neighborhood. Her list requires that a restaurant be open at least six months, so I don’t consider this the cutting edge I often seek. It’s more of a safe bet.

THE HEAT MAP
For more of the cutting edge, Ms. Alburger has created the spectacular, indispensable “Eater Heat Map” where “More often than not, tipsters, readers, friends and family of Eater have one question: Where should I eat right now?” The question is deftly answered with the places that have buzz. While this list might cause debate amongst die-hard obsessives, it’s a great resource for most enthusiasts.

THE NEWSLETTER
Tablehopper is a newsletter that is published weekly by Marcia Gagliardi, the queen bee of the Bay Area food scene. A subscription to her newsletter is an essential part of being-in-the-know. The minute something opens Marcia is there and reporting. She also keeps an updated list of 10 Places to Eat at Now that comes in handy on a search. In fact, if you compare it to the eater lists, places with overlap are a sure bet [wink wink].

NO RESERVATIONS
Opentable is not only good for getting reservations, but in many cases, I prefer the reviews here over Yelp. They tend to be concise and trend in directions that can help you make choices (I’ll comment about Yelp below). But most importantly, we often don’t plan enough in advance to score reservations at places like Flour+Water and Frances. With Opentable, you can see what is available as you comb the lists above. I will often plug in my date / time and scan the available reservations before making a decision.

MESSAGE BOARD
Chowhound is daunting. Unless you are prepared to navigate miles of message boards to find the pearl of wisdom you seek, you might want to try a different approach. If I am looking for something specific, like “Best Pizza in San Francisco” I will add “chowhound” to my google search and scan the lively debates. What I’ll often find is that a thread will go on forever, but clear consensus forms, from which I can make a pretty solid decision. This has been my savior when seeking whitefish salad in New York, Deli in LA and hot dogs / pizza in Chicago.

NO WAY, JOSE
Time to Yelp bash a little. I don’t see much value in Yelp. When people are moved to post to Yelp, I question their motivation. I’m guessing it is typically when they have an experience that moves them to action, whether positive, negative or neutral, depending on the person themselves. But, what do we know about these people? And how are their opinions relevant to us? I could try to glean information from their profile or previous posts, but thats simply too much work. I often find that I don’t get much help out of Yelp in actually making decisions. Sorry for the non-sequitor here, but I think it’s relevant.

BLOGS, GLORIOUS BLOGS
Lastly, the Bay Area is littered with media outlets and blogs, like my own, that can help you find some solid information. Here is a list of some of my favorites:

7×7 Eat + Drink
San Francisco Magazine Eat & Drink
SFGate Food
SFBG Food & Drink
SFWeekly Foodie
Bay Are Bites KQED
Grub Street SF
Cooking with Amy
Bay Are Foodie
YUM SFStation
KelsEats

Now that I’ve added to the inundation of your life, I leave you with my favorite Dr. Suess, as it relates to seeking restaurants, from “Oh, the Places You’ll Go”:

You’ll look up and down streets. Look ‘em over with care.
About some you will say, “I don’t choose to go there.”
With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet,
you’re too smart to go down any not-so-good street.

Summer Side Dishes

Posted on July 15, 2011 by ezealot

For Victoria.

I quit. That’s right, for reals yo, I quit my job. It’s a long story, and y’all knows I have no problem telling long stories, but I’d rather not get into it. In short, a year and a half ago I sold my company to a larger firm. We had big plans for the next stage. But it never really happened. I became disenfranchised, so a couple of months ago I decided to move on. Step out into the great unknown. Surrender.

As a result, life could not be better. Sure, I have real concerns about finances and building a new future. But without the heavy responsibility and [perceived] burden of work (for the first time in 20 years) I have found a level of calm and peace that has never existed in my adult life. I’m learning to listen to myself, the universe, my community. I’m diving head-first into the psyche of my 6-year old son. I’m getting caught up with the little things, taking naps, working out, lot’s of yoga and really having fun. Plus, it’s summertime.

Growing up at the beach, I always loved summer, which I suppose I took for granted. Now, living in a place where summer only peaks it’s head out on rare occasions, I’ve realized how precious summer is to me. I’ve always been the host of the backyard BBQ and show up to potlucks with my summery salads and deviled eggs. But in this state of awareness I’m noticing that it’s a deeper experience of connectivity to my childhood and freedom-by-way-of-beach-and-surf that signifies summer. It’s about getting a little high on wine and talking with friends over the grill. It’s about shucking oysters and steaming mussels, chasing waves, body surfing and time spent building sandcastles with my son. It’s about that magic hour around sunset when the heat of the day starts to vaporize off of your body, ice rattles in the glass while sweat beads down your fingers - I sink deeper into chairs, conversations, life.

I might not be able to help you get to this place. But what I can do is share with you a few recipes that will make the experience that much better if you happen to find it.

Grilled Radicchio with Anchovy Vinaigrette
I love this earthy salad that comes together so easily and wows your guests. Soak some bamboo skewers for an hour. Take 3-5 medium heads of radicchio and cut them in half along the white center. Cut the halves into thirds lengthwise. Stack 4 wedges on to the skewers and soak them in an ice bath for at least an hour (this removes bitterness). To make the vinaigrette start with some coarse mustard and 4-6 anchovies. Mash them between the tines of two forks until they are near a paste. Add some minced shallots, black pepper and some thyme. Mix it all together with some sherry vinegar, enough to get it wet but not runny. Slowly drizzle in some good olive oil while whisking with the two forks until it emulsifies. Taste as you go and odd more oil if necessary. Drain the radicchio on some paper towels. Coat them lightly with olive oil and a little sea salt. Place the skewers on a hot grill for a minute or two, turning once. The leaves should just start to char, but not be close to burning. Pull them off into a wooden salad bowl. Toss with the vinaigrette, salt and pepper to taste and serve warm.

Lime-Pepper Corn
A few tricks to making yummy corn. In fact, I may never go back to butter and salt again. Start with the husks on and soak them in water for an hour. Peel back the husks and bunch them together at the bottom (essentially turn them inside out to form a handle), wrapping and tying them with butcher’s string. Soak them a little longer until they are ready to grill. Slice some limes and have your pepper grinder handy. On the hot part of the grill, place the corn and turn so that 1/4th of the kernels get color. Don’t let it burn. You’re just looking for a little smokey flavor and sugar sweetness from the grill. Pile them on a cooler spot on the grill until they are done cooking, just a couple of minutes, if at all. Rub the corn with fresh limes and then grind pepper right on to them. Serve hot.

Deviled Eggs
Don’t expect these to sit long. I’ve never made Deviled Eggs that weren’t gobbled up before all my guests arrived. The secrets is to use farm eggs, of course. They just have a deeper egg flavor, rich and earthy. You’ll want to use eggs that are at least a week old. This allows you to peel them easier because there is a membrane that loosens over time. Put the eggs in a pot and cover with water. Turn the burner to high. After it comes to a gentle boil take your pot off the heat and let sit for 9 minutes. Remove the eggs from the water and peel while running under cold water. Hold the eggs on their side and slice a tiny segment on left and right to provide a base when they are sitting, stuffed. Cut them in half and remove the yolks into a bowl.

The fillings are endless. Much like other recipes here, a lot is up to your creativity. Your base is typically mayonnaise, but I often use greek yogurt or even ricotta to fill or substitute. One of my favorite fillings is using Boar’s Head Horseradish sauce mixed with the yolks. Plain and simple. But for a basic Deviled Egg, try this. Put a little dollop of dijon mustard, a dash of
Worcestershire sauce, a dash of Tabasco and a shot of white wine vinegar. Mix half mayo and half greek yogurt until the filling is creamy. Salt and pepper to taste. Use a small spoon or pastry bag and fill the eggs generously. Top with smokey paprika or cayenne for a little heat or chives, fried basil or fried parsley for some herbaciousness.

Enjoy your summer and these side dishes. I’ve got a ton more where this came from, so if I can take a break from actually enjoying myself, I’ll try to write more.

Radicchio Salad

Posted on April 22, 2011 by ezealot

For Katja.

I get requests to post recipes all of the time. Well, part of my life moving forward is to try to answer these requests. Incredibly good cosmic ju ju. Plus, my therapist loves my embrace of community. He thinks I light up when I speak of the time I spend with my friends, family and mostly my son. I love to cook, but more importantly, I love the experience that cooking facilitates. It creates a forum for indulgence and connectivity. It’s what makes life more enjoyable for me…

So, here’s a Radicchio Salad I often call upon. I cannot take credit other than recognizing genius and reinterpreting it. I originally learned this in a class with Chef Hiro Sone of Tera in Napa. It’s fast, simple and banging-good.

Take your radicchio (use the most light and whispy varieties – darker, denser types, like treviso, don’t work as well) and peel off all of the leaves, discarding the thicker white sections. Soak the leaves in ice water for anywhere from 20 minute to a couple of hours. This will help remove some of the bitterness. It works great!

In a wooden salad bowl, put some finely chopped shallots. Add a small dollop of mustard (dijon preferred), a squeeze of honey and handful of herbs de provence. Your choice of vinegar will alter this dressing significantly. Lately I’ve been using a nice light pomegranate from “O”. You can use a citrus, champagne or even balsamic, which Hiro used. Try them out to see which you prefer.

With a fork or wisk, beat the ingredients into a whirl and start adding some olive oil slowly, creating an emulsion as you go. Hiro and I both switch mid-way to canola oil to keep it lighter. You can use 1/2 and 1/2 or all of either if you prefer. Add salt and pepper to taste. At the end, plane some Parmigiano-Reggiano. You want to plane it to get the finest texture.

Dry your leaves thoroughly and break them up by hand, like above. Coat them with ample Parmigiano-Reggiano and toss them in the dressing. Crack some pepper on top. Croutons work well with this.

I hope this means Katja is planning to make this for tomorrow’s gathering.

Hand-Crafting Pasta with the Epicurean Zealot

Posted on April 16, 2011 by ezealot

I’m taking it to the streets… that’s right. Time for the Zealot to put up or shut up. In the coming weeks and months you will see real live food-related activity coming from this direction. Perhaps some surprises too. But for now, I’ve got a hot one that’s gonna sell out fast….

In this hands-on course at the lovely Cookhouse Kitchen you will first learn how to make a silky 7-yolk pasta dough, the gold-standard for fresh pasta. While the dough sets we’ll cook simple, yet flavorful sauce pairings to match our pastas. Then, we’ll craft a few shapes including flat and stuffed varieties.

The menu will be driven by what’s available at the farmers market. Here is an example of a recent menu (4/15/11):

Hand-cut papardelle with fatted calf toulouse sausage and saffron sugo
Spring pea and pecorino agnolotti
Fresh ricotta triangoli with tomatoes, fatted-calf pancetta and asparagus

Following the class, we’ll enjoy a family-style meal of our creations.

This course is designed for beginner to expert home chefs and focuses on the world of fresh pasta. You’ll be surprised at how simple it is to craft unique fresh pastas that exceed the quality in most restaurants. You’ll learn about what flavors and textures enhance the shapes and styles of pasta.

We’ll work in small groups so everyone can get their hands dirty and really learn the ‘touch’ associated with every aspect of the process.

Taste of Potrero

Posted on March 24, 2011 by ezealot

I’ve been a busy bee. Unfortunately I’ve neglected you. It’s not that I don’t love you. I do. Very much. It’s just that something suddenly came up (props for getting the Brady reference).

Well, lots of things came up. Divorce. Hanging with my son. Lots. And loving it. Single life. Working for the man after selling my business. Scheming and planning the next great business things (more to come on this soon, I promise). And…trying to flip the script on our neighborhood school as the PTA fundraising chairman.

That’s right, the Zealot has a warm fuzzy center and is a big community guy. I live in Potrero Hill (actually I am in the Dogpatch now, but we still own our house on the Hill). Back in the day when my little’man was a nubbin, we struggled to find a preschool. When all hope was lost and we nearly ended up in a corporate droid factory, we stumbled upon a group of parents who were saving an Elementary School slated for closure. They had a mission to create a Spanish Immersion program at Daniel Webster Elementary and open a bi-lingual preschool to act as a feeder. While we weren’t certain we wanted to be guinea pigs, the people associated with the project seemed to be determined and competent. With few options, we jumped in feet first.

The first year was rough. Teachers got sorted out. The partner organization proved to be incompetent and we decided to go independent. Our son was frustrated by having teachers come and go. But, at the same time, we were part of a community of people experiencing the same frustrations and working together, and hard, to change things. In fact, this group transformed from meetings, dropoffs and playdates to real friendships and a deep connected bond. We created a real neighborhood vibe, unlike anything I’ve seen in an urban setting. The school improved drastically in year-two and we got into a groove.

Then it was time to find a kindergarten. We were warned that getting into a San Francisco preschool was harder than getting into college. If that’s the case, then getting into a private K program is like getting into the Ivy League. Getting into your public K of choice is like…well, winning the lottery. Well hike my skirt and call me Shirley. The process just sucked. We went on interviews with all of the elite schools and made friends with the admission directors. We put on the best face possible and sought out any conditions that might help us get one of the coveted spots. But we weren’t gay, ethnic of any sort, newsworthy, notable or needy enough to pass muster. We got ‘waitlisted’. As for the publics, we were put in our neighborhood Starr King General Ed program. Ugh.

Then, in the second round of lottery in the public system we received the good news that we were accepted into Daniel Webster Elementary’s Spanish Immersion program, the very project that our preschool was built to feed. And so it was fed. Now, you might think we were ecstatic about this, but DW is no peach. Remember, the school was slated for closure and this dog has fleas. I’ve heard of schools turning around due to parental involvement, but DW was at the start of its turnaround. It looked like we were going to be guinea pigs again. But this time, I decided to step up and get involved. I volunteered to be the fundraising chair.

So, here were are, a year has nearly gone by. My son speaks Spanish, well. He’s getting awards at school and I’m the proudest dad alive. Our teacher is dedicated to her students and while there is chaos around them, the Kinders are in a warm nest of support, nurturing and learning (who knew that there was homework in K? lot’s of it. in Spanish). We’ve raised more money so far this year, than all of last year and our big event is yet to come. And so it comes…

TASTE OF POTRERO was the brainchild of a few of the parents in the school who wanted to up the ante of the bakesale fundraisers. We’re real people, with real jobs and real connections. Why can’t we have a real food event that would make the city stand up and notice. We’ve got event planners, winemakers, restauranteurs, admen and adwomen, pr types and on and on… So, on May 12th, we’re going for it. We’ve got the recently Beard nominated Flour + Water and Bar Agricole. We’ve got neighborhood gems Contigo, Piccino, Skool, Grand Pu Bah, Serpentine and Slow Club. And…we’ve got the exciting stylings of Kitchenette, Tacolicious and Hapa Ramen. Clearly not your average bakesale. Click the logo for the official website:

There will be a dozen wineries, including Spain’s best from Potrero’s own Vinos Unicos and wine with a cause Greater Purpose Wines. Batiste Rhum Agricole is going to be pouring hand-crafted cocktails.

Jane Wiedlin from the GoGos, who is always up to support a good cause is going to spin a DJ set. Some of the kids from Top Chef will be stopping by to shake hands and share some insights. There’s even an aerialist acrobat scheduled to perform.

Tickets are $50 for general admission from 7-10pm and $100 for VIP, which gets you extra tastes and exclusive access from 6-7pm. A silent auction will feature city-wide treasures so bring your credit card or check book. Buy your tickets here:

There are only 400 tickets and they’re selling quickly. Come join us for a night in support of better education. The San Francisco Unified School District projects massive deficits next year. That means already bare bones budgets will be even tighter; “non-essential”/ non-classroom teachers will be the first to go and students are the ones who will suffer most. Without outside funding from donors like you there will be:

No Art, No Music, No Dance, No Physical Education, No Computer Specialists, No Field Trips, No Literacy Specialists, No Nurses, No Librarians, No Learning Support Professionals.

We hope to see you there. And I promise I’m coming back strong, soon. You can’t keep a good zealot down.

Sons & Daughters Doesn’t Suck

Posted on December 14, 2010 by ezealot

The other day really sucked. Colossal, epic, universe is fucking with you kind of suck. Mind-numbing, are you serious, can it get any worse – yes it can suckity suck suck. Yet, looking back, I can’t help but feel like it turned out to be pretty good.

It started with the fog. Did you guys see that? Pea soup, snow-blind fog at 8am. My view is what energizes me each morning. At the worst I can see boats in the dry dock – massive creatures my son claims are “bigger than whales”. Not today! Cold, clammy and dense.

Now I love every second I spend with my son. He is the light of my world. I am guilty of being totally gay for my 5-year old boy, stealing wet kisses from his shayna punim every chance I get. He can do no wrong by me and I spoil him like crazy with divorced-dad-guilt….But the thought of another playdate at the Academy of Sciences (like the 5th time in 2 months) just wasn’t screaming fun to me that day. There’s the albino alligator, look! jellyfish, oh here’s the rainforest. Again.

I know, I suck. We are so lucky to have such an amazing museum nearby and to share it with my boy is a treasure. So, as a result of my discontent, I got karmic bitchslapped. 4:00pm we’re about to get in the car to go home and I discover my key fob has fallen off my Schneider bundle (huge points for getting the reference). Done poof, gone. Enter the mind of the 5-year old existential crisis. Quivering lip: “Daddy. If we can’t get into the car, does that mean we can’t go home and we’re homeless?” No son, we just need to go to mommy’s house and get the spare I left. “But if the cab doesn’t come, how will we get there?”.

An hour later and dozens of more questions we’ve journeyed from GGP to Potrero and back in a vomit-inducing cab ride (it was the Gypsy Kings music as much as the driving). During which, at some point, I receive text message from the sitter that she cannot come tonight. Really? Really? Mistake in her plans, so my plans are toast. I was supposed to have dinner at Sons & Daughters, a place I had already cancelled twice. I’m really not supposed to eat there.

Still during all of this, I am calm. I keep my center. I don’t lose my cool, in fact, I welcome the challenges. How can I learn from this? What am I gaining? I shit you not! The Zealot is growing up people. I’m thinking about how the little man and I are getting some amazing mind-fuck-bonding going on. We’re answering real questions. We’re getting ok with the world. And from out of the blue, a family of fairy princesses and princes decided to invite my booger to sleep over, thus solving the sitter conundrum. Right with it all. Karma restored.

So, I’m back on track and the world is pretty wide open to me. I arrive early and walk around Union Square. And I cannot stop thinking that I never go to Union Square. But how festive! Yes, I must take the boy. Ice skating. Shopping. I feel like a tourist. When we sit down to eat it turns out that my companion also had a pretty shitty day. So we’re both in the need of a drink and an experience please. In fact, I receive an “order for me” and “yes, I’d love to share” – which are two of the greatest phrases an Epicurean Zealot can hear. Why thank you, I will.

So we get the tasting menu x 2, different paths with four courses, plus amouses, totaling a bazillion dishes with wine pairings x 2. Now, mind you, I know nothing about this place. I keep up on the scene, but it escaped me. Maybe it’s the generic name. Maybe it’s the humble pedigrees of the two chefs. Maybe because it’s in Union Square (though Opentable insists this is Nob Hill). So, I consider this order a risk, having been disappointed by Commonwealth on a few occasions and, while loving Frances, not feeling the backflip-enducing praise it gets. But give it your best shot fellas.

And so it was. Course after course after course. Without a misstep. You heard me. Everything was perfect. From a celery root soup with maitake, trumpets, enoki & cauliflower mushrooms to an abalone with burdock root and castelvetrano olive (say it three times – I made the waiter) to the finest wagyu zabuton steak I could imagine. We had foie and sablefish and none of the savory courses were less than outstanding. My only complaint was that the desserts didn’t live up. The chocolate was ok and the foie seems contrived. But it was excusable in the grand scheme.

Frame of reference: I just returned from a 10 day sojourn to Basque Spain to eat. I ate. A lot. In really really good places. This region is the epicenter of modern food. And I tell you… that the best meal I’ve had in months was at Sons & Daughters. In San Francisco. My hometown. As we left the restaurant the cold didn’t seem to matter. Strolling Union Square was even more charming with the glow of 8 wine pairings and a belly full of foie. The suckfest day was a distant memory and my faith in San Francisco dining rejuvinated. Turned out to be a pretty good night afterall.

The Epicurean Zealot

An opinion-laden guide to San Francisco's culinary culture.

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