Category Archives: Making Food

Making Food

The Five Course Thanksgiving

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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

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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

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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!

Summer Side Dishes

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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

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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

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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….

Register for Hand-Crafting Pasta with the Epicurean Zealot in San Francisco, CA on Eventbrite

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. 

Register for Hand-Crafting Pasta with the Epicurean Zealot in San Francisco, CA on Eventbrite

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.

The Dinner Party Guest

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I don’t get invited to enough dinner parties. I backed myself into this corner. I believe it’s mostly because I am a food snob and a vocal one at that. I mean who would want to cook for someone that has such high expectations for every meal he eats AND might just write about it online? And frankly, my friends are justified for their sensitivity. I judge. I notice subtleties. I criticize, even if it is in my own head. Who would want that pressure?

Still, I have a dark, and very pedestrian, side to my culinary experience. I eat Spaghettios. I love Stouffer’s Creamed Chipped Beef. I have a soft spot for all things crap (in fact I have a post queued up called “Eat Shit”). So, while I wear my judges hat in many realms, I try to spare my friends the expectation of performing for a critic. If you’re reading this, I’ll be expecting an inbox filled with invites…

A few months ago I was invited to a dinner by a relatively new friend we shall now call from this point forward “the Contessa”. While technically not a Contessa by Italian aristocracy (I think), she has regal qualities, an impeccable social standing, refined tastes and a certain air of luxuriousness that follows her every move. She owns a Napa estate that makes Olive Oil for celebrity chefs. She pals around with the SF Opera elite. You wouldn’t necessarily put us together…until we start talking about food. The Contessa and I are soul mates in our zealotry for everything about food, and especially Italian. So, when the invitation came to join her at a home of some friends for dinner, I didn’t have to think twice.

Frankly, my life is so chaotic these days that I didn’t pay much attention to the specifics of the invite. I knew they were friends and somehow into food but I didn’t delve into the specifics. It was enough that the Contessa wanted me there. We’d play it by ear. My calendar invite read “Ciao Adam happy New Year!!! Tiziana wish to have confirmation you and me will go to her Piemontese dinner.”

When we arrived at the lovely loft in Mint Plaza we met our hosts Tiziana and John. It turns out that she is a photographer, who specializes in food. He is an importer of Italian culinary delights (Un Po Pazzo – click on this link to visit), particularly from the Piedmont region. Tiziana is from Piedmont and I immediately knew we were in for a treat. When an Italian is cooking with confidence I’m putty in their hands. The traditions run so deep and food is so engrained in their culture that I am almost embarrassed to claim that I cook Italian food. The mastery and skill of Italian regional chefs, including amateurs and home chefs, makes my dabbling seem Mickey Mouse.

I could see as I entered that Tiziana was organized and had put an effort into this meal, but I joked that it was probably effortless for her, even if it took her days. We started with a simple platter of the finest cheese known to man, in my opinion, Parmigiano-Reggiano. But this wasn’t just plain old Reggiano. No, it was Vacche Rosse, a special variety of the lauded formaggio made exclusively under a traditional process including prime red cows. The taste was subtly different than your average PR. It was a little more mellow, like a nice aged Cab, with a more crumbly texture (it was aged 4-years versus the 2-3 year we typically eat). I wolfed down a bunch along with some homemade foccacia that was lovely.

I watched Tiziana working her salad, which included seasonal greens topped with some poached shellfish, including squid and shrimp. She mixed in some of the fish liquid with the dressing which added a hint of seaspray to the dressing, marrying the fish and the salad. I never thought to do that, but loved the result. Otherwise, your salad would just have a topping of fish, without any real tie to the entirety of the dish. Brava!

Next came the Agnolotti del Plin. Interestingly enough, the first time I tried this dish was the night before at Flour + Water. When it rains it pours! This traditional Piemontese dish is a pasta (Agnolotti) that is pinched (del Plin) to seal it. In both cases it was stuffed with a veal, chard, pork filling and served in a light butter sauce. Flour + Water did a great job. It was light and lovely. Their pasta was incredibly delicate, which I love, but I never would have guessed it was a little too soft, by comparison. But Tiziana had the home field advantage here and brought out subtleties that you’d be hard-pressed to find in a restaurant. The sauce was simple and sparing, just enough to kiss the pasta but not overpower it. The filling bursted with flavor, surrounded by a silk blanket of pasta that retained a little bite of al dente. Brava again!

If that wasn’t enough, our next course was a brisket served with a deep, dark barolo sauce and a light vegetable melange. Her skill at cutting a brunoise was apparent and the lightly-herbed vegetables played a nice counter to the rich meat. As for the sauce, I can confidently say that I have never made such a lovely elixir myself. I find this type of sauce to be elusive for my culinary talents and I made a decision to try to add a few to my repertoire. It was rich and buttery and meaty and rich and barolo-y. I couldn’t get enough.

I must comment that John was no slouch with his additions to the meal. He paired wines impeccably, all from Piemonte. The cheese was from his import company (I’m planning to buy some hunks if anyone wants to split the wheel up). He shared some tomatoes that he claims are far superior to your average DOP San Marzanos I swear by.  And his stories of his life’s careers and capers were incredibly interesting.

Dessert was another regional treat called Bonèt, a custard with ground almond cookies. Paired with a perfect dessert wine (which I will count on John posting in the comments) the night ended on a high note.

As we walked out into the crisp night air I thought about a few things. First, I was wowed by a great meal. How lucky to share such treats with the Contessa and her friends. I cannot wait until I have the chance to visit her Napa estate or, better yet, meet up in Italy for the real thing. And…I love going to dinner parties. It’s not just the food, but the company and the opportunity to talk in small groups. And for the rare opportunity I have to score an invite, I don’t have to do the cooking.

Superhero Party + Italian Torta Recipe!

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Today was my son’s 5th birthday party. Yeah, the Zealot is a dad. And I love birthday parties. In the same way I like to shake things up for holidays, like Thanksgiving, I relish the chance to pull out something unique for my kid’s parties. Frankly, it’s mostly about feeding the adults, but occasionally I get into the kid food too.

Captain America Birthday Boy

Captain America Birthday Boy

The first year we had a May-day celebration with pizza-on-the-grill. Everyone got to make their own with crazy toppings. The hot fire on the weber was perfect for smokey crisp crusts.

Pizza on the Grill Toppings

Pizza on the Grill Toppings

Years two and three we embraced cinco de mayo, one year with cochinita pibil – a yucutan pit-pork concoction that can knock socks. The other year we did carne asada, flank style.

Little Man and His Pinata

Little Man and His Pinata

Last year I grilled some Fatted Calf sausages for a Pirate party in Ft. Mason, complete with a cannon and real live pirate actor guy.

Real Live Pirate Actor Guy

Real Live Pirate Actor Guy

This year it was superheroes. Lots and lots of superheroes. Thirty of em. Plus their parents. The food was a challenge because we were at Potrero Del Sol Park with no grilling and blazing sun. So, for the kids we decided on simple sandwiches. But since my son was going to be Captain America, I decided to use his shield for inspiration and viola, a fucking Martha Stewart moment:

Captain America Sandwiches

Captain America Sandwiches

For the adults, I threw together a faro, pasta, cherry tomato, ricotta salata and baby arugula salad. It was quick, simple and tasty. It also held up surprisingly well to the heat:

Salad with Faro, Pasta, Arugula and Ricotta Salata

Salad with Faro, Pasta, Arugula and Ricotta Salata

But the real winner, at least in my opinion was a Torta I made on a whim hoping to find something that would work well at room temperature or sweatier. Since I had never made one, I was concerned. While it didn’t rock my world, it was really quite good and I now have a better understanding of the form, to improve in subsequent tries. I’ll share with you my experience  and a recipe below.

Torta with Bellweather Farms Ricotta and Boccolone Meats

Torta with Bellweather Farms Ricotta and Boccolone Meats

So a torta is typically an Easter dish, that can include any combination of stuffings, like artichokes, cured meats, spinach, cheeses, etc. It’s baked in a double pie crust and served room temperature or cold. It sort of resembles a quiche, except that the center is denser than a custard, especially when cold.

For mine, I scoured a number of recipes and determined to go at it freestyle. For the crust, I used Food & Wine’s Flakey Double-Crust Pastry Recipe [click for link] but substituted the shortening with Boccalone Lard. I’ve been told that lard is actually better for you than the hydrogenated shortening and gives you better texture and flavor. I’ll have to try both to give my opinion, but I liked the crust with the lard and it was definitely a conversation piece.

For the fillings I took Boccalone mortadella, prosciutto cotto (cooked ham) and capicola and pulsed them a few times in the food processor. This gave a nice ham salad sort of texture. I mixed it all with an egg to bind. Next I grabbed some stellar Bellweather Farm’s Jersey basket ricotta. It has low moisture so it won’t ruin the crust. I mixed it with some aged provolone and pecorino fresco. Lastly I sauteed some baby spinach, drained and dried it and tossed it with some reggiano and a couple of eggs to bind.

The assembly was simple. After laying in the pie crust I alternated meat, cheese, spinach then cheese, meat crust. Base it in a 375 oven for an hour or so, until the crust is golden then refrigerate over night.

I think the whole thing could have used more salt. But the earthiness of the lardo crust played really well with the meats and the cheeses added some sweetness with a little sharp kick from the provolone. The spinach was sort of prosaic and I’d love to give artichokes, chard or broccoli rabe a try. But most importantly it help up amazingly well in direct sun for a couple of hours. It didn’t sweat or break down in the least.

Meatball Sunday Interlude

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I talk a lot about meatballs. I also put my money where my mouth is sometimes. Here’s some food porn of this Sunday’s concotion.

Zealot Meatballs

Photo by Greg Vargas

Check out my post about how to make meatballs for the guidelines. This version was beef, pork, veal (equal portions) with porcini mushrooms, Vidalia onions & ricotta. They are served over some lovely baby arugula, tossed in olive oil, sea salt and pepper – an warm Acme ciabatta and a mound of ricotta drizzled with more olive oil.

Veral, Ricotta & Porcini Meatballs

Photo by Greg Vargas

Meatballs, Baby Arugula Ricotta, Acme Ciabatta

Photo by Greg Vargas

Ring of Fire, Part 1

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Give me a fire and I will cook! My mantra for the summer is going to be something like this. I’ve never put it into words, but I am fanatical about cooking over a fire, ideally outdoors, even better in the wilderness. There’s something primal about taming the wild fire and coaxing a culinary concoction and the more challenging the environment, the more satisfying the results.

That said, I’m starting a short series on the subject. Upcoming posts will be about backyard grilling, followed by car camping and then backpacking. In each case, I will share some recipes, techniques, tools and tidbits on how to maximize each experience to the fullest.

But for now, I want to share a story about one of my favorite dishes to cook over fire and how I learned it…

I was working on an archaeological excavation in Israel in the early 90′s at a place called Caesarea Maritima. The location couldn’t have been more idyllic, perched on a flour-white sand beach on the Mediterranean Sea. The Israeli Olympic team had headquarters that provided us accommodations and there was a welcoming town nearby. The volunteers on the excavation were college students from across the country and you couldn’t imagine a more exciting and alluring environment to spend a summer. I often recall it as summer camp for adults.

Throughout the summer I had the good fortune of working in a trench that turned out to be one of the top archaeological finds of the year. A wonderous Byzantine mosaic floor of a marketplace scene was identified in our trench and we spent weeks carefully removing the dirt and then chipping away a layers of oxidization to reveal the art beneath.

Zealot the Archaeologist

Zealot the Archaeologist

Our average day was as follows: Wake at 4:30am and have first breakfast. Dig at sunrise and return for second breakfast around 9am. By noon the sun was so hot that we’d head to lunch and call it a day. The afternoons were spent poking through the shards and tidbits we uncovered or just hanging out on the beach, surfing or napping. Early evening was time to classify our finds and we’d spend hours underneath tents of mesh netting picking through pottery bits. In the evening we’d have classes with the professors and usually wind up at the bar to get piss-drunk. Wake up – start over.

When it was determined that our mosaic floor was of significant importance, a team of Italian preservationists were called in to take over. The site was too delicate to leave in the hands of students any longer. Because the Israelis didn’t speak Italian and the Italians barely spoke English, let alone Hebrew, I was asked to stick around and translate as necessary between the crews. It was a wonderful opportunity. And mostly because I got to hang out with the Italians!

Which brings me to the relevance of my tale. Despite having lived a year in Italy, I had never had proper bruschetta (and let’s clear this up again people – it’s pronounced Bru-Schket-Tah or Bru-Sket-Tah, depending on where you’re from – please stop with the Bru-Shet-Tah!) The Italians showed up and immediately adapted their lifestyle. It wasn’t hard for them to track down the right tomatoes, the right cheeses, the right pasta. It just seemed to magically appear, as if we were in Tuscany. And it was often cooked over fire.

When Bruschetta is done properly, it has a balance of flavors that combine to create a treat for the ages. Many cultures mimic the form, like Pa amb tomàquet, the Catalan bread where they rub tomato on toast and season with olive oil and salt. Or, Lathovrekhto, the greek style bruschetta that may include vegetable spreads or just oil and salt.  But, it is the Italian variety that reins supreme.

The origin comes from the word bruscare, which means to roast over coals. In it’s purest form the bread retains the smokiness and char from the grill, which is then rubbed with garlic and coated in olive oil and salt. By rubbing the garlic you get the essence without any bitterness. The play between the smoke and the sweetness of the oil, drawn out by the salt is just perfection.

But where it really gets interesting for me is when you top the bruschetta with some Roma tomatoes, cut to a brunoise size, tossed with olive oil and salt and heaped on top. Add some basil if that’s your thing (I like it chiffonade if so…) Of course a shot of fresh-cracked pepper is essential. The cool-sweet tomatoes add a another layer to the experience and it all just comes together. Something so simple, yet so perfectly right.

The Italians would end their day and set up their grill on a nearby golf course as we watched the sunset – drinking, singing, dancing, joking and eating. And eating. And drinking! I learned bruschetta here. It didn’t take much. It will last a lifetime.

Crab Cakes

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I am so backed up with posts that I might explode. Just because the Zealot isn’t writing a lot, doesn’t mean my world still doesn’t revolve around food. Au Contraire, Mon Fraire! But I struggle with where to being again. How do I separate the wheat from the chaff?

I think the best place to start, and the biggest disservice I did to you, was to leave you high and dry at Thanksgiving. I’ll make up for it. I’ve got some doozies. Thanksgiving is my holiday, bitches. That’s right, I said it. I own it. I consider it a personal challenge to remain inventive in the face of honoring traditions and meeting (or exceeding) expectations from TDays past. Plus, I am working to let go of my obsessive control and include others in the process. Add all of this up and the fact that I am often drunk (see below) mid-way through the evening and it is a herculean effort to rock TDay.

Epicurean Zealot Crab Cakes

Dungeness Crabs Steaming in the Pot

This year I’ve got two standout dishes that I’ll share. Today it’s my crab cakes. Later on I’ll share the sweet potato gnocchi dish I unveiled this year. Let me start by explaining my two most important TDay traditions. First, the middle of November is the start of dungeness crab season in Northern California. Some years the first crab I taste is on Thanksgiving. This year I had a week or so to revisit my sweet meat before popping out some cakes for the holiday.

My other tradition is tequila. It’s a convoluted path to tequila but ultimately I owe Uncle Lou thanks. You see, when I lived in Colorado my Aunt and Uncle (Lou’s brother-in-law) had recently moved from the east coast to Colorado springs so they could opt out of the rat race and smoke a lot of dope. Lou was a tour guide of sorts to the laid-back Colorado mountain life. He was an animated character and over-the-top personality that ultimately turned out to be scumbag. But Lou gave us tequila at Thanksgiving. Nobody was spared a shot and it really amped up the festivities.

Epicurean Zealot Crab Cakes

Traditional Thanksgiving Tequila

Back to the crab. Those unfamiliar with dungeness might not appreciate the stringy texture (compared to your average lump meat or Maryland claws). It is incredibly laborious pickings, but the effort rewards you with sweetness and a fresh sea flavor that I love. My journey starts with a call to the docks – Larry of the “Genesis” and Crabs Ahoy (408) 489-4808 or Bill of “Cricket” (925) 757-8615. The past few years have been slow for the crab fishermen so it’s best to call down to one or more of the boatmen to see if they have some catch. Then we hop in the car and drive 30 minutes to Pillar Point Harbor, outside of Half Moon Bay to buy some buggers fresh off the boat.

Back at the homestead we boil a monster pot of water with bay leaf and peppercorns and drop our friends in for 12-14 minutes. I leave them in a sink to cool down before the long task of cleaning and cracking and picking. There is an art to this and if you’re a newbie, you’ll want to google some instructions. At the end you’ll have a big pile of crab meat. I got about 30 crab balls out of six crabs. You do the math.

Epicurean Zealot Crab Cakes

Epicurean Zealot Crab Cakes

At last we make the cakes. But I said balls. What gives? I’ve discovered this year that I think I prefer a round crab cake in a ball over the traditional form. It looks better and the pent up steam inside billows as you cut into them. Moreover, the crust to crab ratio seems ideal. Here’s the drill:

In a large bowl toss your crabmeat gently (you don’t want to break it up too much so you get big hunks of claw meat in every bite) with enough good mayo and a little sour cream (this year I tried Greek Yogurt instead and it was AMAZING) to wet the crab but not drown it. Add a few dashes of worchestershire and tabasco (enough to taste but not overpower). Then some dijon mustard (a spoonful or more, depending on your preference, but again don’t overpower). Next throw in some chopped green onions, a lot of them – don’t be shy here. This is the best contrast flavor to the crab. If you are making more than a crab’s worth, I would add about an egg for every two crabs. The binding becomes necessary when cooking in quantity. Then, add some panko breadcrumbs, enough to give the batter some stick to it. It should hold it’s shape for frying. Salt and pepper to taste.

I like to use a butter and oil blend. Olive oil alone would be fine. Form the cakes into golf balls. Then roll them in panko to create a crust. Cook them over medium high flame until the brown and rotate them multiple times to get all sides brown. Handle them carefully as they will fall apart without much effort. Because you are cooking on multiple sides, as opposed to two with a traditional cake, I feel the insides cook better and have a steamy quality.

Epicurean Zealot Crab Cakes

"The Best Crab Cakes We Ever Ate!"

I served this year’s cakes on a strip of pureed red pepper and horseradish sauce. You can do whatever suits you. Make sure to have a citrus (lemon or lime) wedge. Serve em hot. At least a half dozen of our guests this year said these were the best crab cakes they ever ate. It might have been the freshness. Perhaps the recipe is that good. Maybe they were just too damn drunk to know. So, the moral of the story is to serve tequila with your crab and you too might be the star of the night!

Making Macaroni and Cheese

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This could be my most popular post of the summer. We’re talking mac and cheese. Nothing touches the souls of so many inner-children (which is the majority of my readers – that means you Murley) than a nostalgic romp around comfort food. And nothing says comfort food more than mac and cheese. And, nobody can touch my mac and cheese.

Let’s start with a tour around town. I’m expecting comments here people, cause I know you have an opinion. There are so many mac and cheese options in San Francisco it’s mind-numbing. I might venture to say that there is more mac and cheese than pizza. Every chef wants to show his pedestrian sensibilities. Everyone thinks theirs is the best. Many hit the mark. Few fail, simply because the addage applies: mac and cheese (or pizza) is like sex: even when it is bad, it is good. That is why I can’t stop shoveling in my son’s crappy Annie’s Shells and Cheddar (ugh shudder). Here are a few of my favorite versions:

macaroni-cheese

French Laundry: what can I say about Thomas Keller’s reinterpretation using Butter-Poached Lobster with Creamy Lobster Broth and Mascarpone-Enriched Orzo other than it simply elevates the form into something transcendent, Oola: it’s been a while, but I came back time and again for their cheddar mac and cheese (and bone marrow too!), Home: consistently a pleaser – this version is light on flavor and seasoning but nails texture and creaminess, Memphis Minnies: perhaps the opposite of Home – hits hard with flavor yet has a gloppy texture and the pasta is overdone, 1300 on Fillmore: I like the use of spice in this version, Luna Park: versions with broccoli and ham add a hearty twist. I know there are many many others that are worthy of praise, so leave a comment if you have an opinion.

But this is a post about how to make good mac and cheese. I’m going to give you the foundation and you’re going to run with it. I’ve been poking around with this dish as long as any other I can recall. If there is one thing I am confident I do well, this is it. And, as always, it’s about concepts. So let’s roll up our sleeves and get messy….

Pasta: this is probably one of the few times that I will tell you that good pasta (for the sake of being good) isn’t completely essential. Yes, I typically use good pasta, but I’ve had some failures with expensive varieties. I’ve found that a number of my Rustichella d’Abruzzo varieties didn’t work well. A grainy, versus smooth, texture produces significantly different results. What I am looking for is something that holds the cheese in the shape, while also keeping it’s body and not soaking up too much into the pasta itself. That’s why curly works great. Penne is ok. Campanelle, Cappelletti, Cavatappi, Gigli, Conchiglie, Pipette, Riccioli all work very well. Lower-end brands like Barilla are fine, but stay away from Safeway or other generic brands.

kinds of pasta

When you cook your pasta use heavily-salted water. Cook it 3/4 of the way and pull it from the pot. Run it under cold water to stop the cooking. Try not to let it sit too long and dry out.

The Sauce: Cheese on its own won’t cut it (easy does it inner child people). You need a sauce. To me, the best foundation is a bechamel or other white cream variety. Depending on the type of cheese you are using and desired effect you can use a simple bechamel (note that I do not use the french technique for a proper bechamel in my mac and cheese, but you certainly can for added flavor) or turn it into Soubise with melted onions or leaks for more gumption. To make my simple bechamel melt some butter and add some flour (look it up if you need proportions, but I suggest doing this sauce enough that it’s second nature) which makes a roux. Whisk in some hot milk slowly until a thick sauce forms. You can steep the hot milk with herbs to add other flavors. Salt to taste. Note: if you want a little more depth and nuttiness, you can brown your roux mixture before adding milk. Add your shredded cheese directly to the sauce. After it melts you should have a velvety-thick and glistening cheese sauce.

2008_06_16-MakingRoux

Cheese: Here is where we get to be creative. I was just telling someone that making macaroni and cheese is really more of an art-form than we give credit. Cheese making is a true culinary art, much like wine making and charcuterie. So, the act of blending cheeses in a sauce is a skilled practice that produces orgasmic results, much like blending wine. Go ahead and challenge me on this one sucka, I dare you!

Where to begin? There is so much room for creative expression here I’m at a loss. Well, no, not really. C’mon! Start at Gruyère. Why? Cause it just works. Never met a Gruyère I didn’t like, especially melted into a bath of hot milky sauce and poured over pasta. The sharpness and age of Gruyère gives you kick of earth with an elegant finish. Toss a bunch into your bechamel and see how it tastes. Always shred your cheese, BTW. If you want some creaminess without compromising the funk, add some Fontina. Want to bring it back home to America, toss in a sharp Vermont cheddar. Go Brit with some English or Irish varieties. Add bite with provolone or parmigiano, pecorino or asiago. Blue? You want blue? You got blue. Go blue! The idea here is that with a white sauce, almost any cheese can be melted and creamy. Go bistro with some goat cheese (or drunken goat for that matter). How about a truffle flavor (Cypress Grove’s Truffle Tremor is my ultimate fav)? Use your cheesemonger at the market. They’ve been down this road before. Ask them to surprise you. Surprise yourself.

rd2

Additional flavors: I’m somewhat loath to push you towards this just yet. Truthfully, not many versions are successful with additives. Stick with the pasta and cheese and you’re fine. But if you’ve got the moxie, here are some suggestions to help you out. Bacon works. Works really well. Smokiness and sweet cured meat, thick – ok. Pancetta = good. Almost any version would work with bacon (truffle excluded, unless you’ve got mad skills). Goat cheese works great with bacon.

Bread crumbs are a solid option. You can melt butter on them and saute some herbs with them to add a nice flavor pop. Try sage or rosemary. Saute the herbs to open them up. Big flavors are the key here. I like to toss some raw green onions into my bacon-goat cheese version just before serving and sprinkle some on top for garnish. Maybe some horseradish, maybe some mustard. If you’re going to put veggies in, make sure they have a lot of flavor and don’t overcook them so they become mush. Broccoli can work, sweet peas (and prosciutto, hmmm), chard or collards – sure. Meats are good too. Sausage could work. Braised meats would be heavenly – think luscious short ribs.

Once the elements are prepped I grab a massive bowl and toss everything together. A lot of sauce is good – don’t be shy with the salt either. If it seems to saucy, it isn’t. The pasta will absorb more of the sauce when cooking and nothing is worse than a dried-out brick of mac and cheese (hello Whole Foods!). Your pasta should be swimming. Toss it into a baking dish. Take a handful of the cheese and put a layer on top. Cook it till the stuff is hot inside. Then hit it with the broiler to crisp up the top. No need to cook the thing forever, just get it hot and get that crust. The longer it cooks, the drier and mushier the pasta gets.

When nobody is looking, take a rubber spatula and scrape the inside of the mixing bowl. Eat it – now. I must confess that I rarely eat my own mac and cheese at a dinner party. This is because the best time to eat it is while your cooking it. A little taste here, another there. I’m often way too full to consider eating by dinner time. Everyone thinks you’re so healthy. Ha!

So kids, with this one I implore you to experiment and be playful. Break free from the traditions and think about how flavors play together. Taste a bunch of cheeses together and see what happens. Macaroni and cheese is an opportunity for an amateur chef to play like a big dog. No risk, no reward.

Gai Yang and More About Laos

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Most people are surprised to learn that many of the “Thai” dishes they eat in the USA is actually more akin to the cuisine of Laos. Dishes like larp (meat salad, often with duck, buffalo or chicken), som tam (green papaya salad), sticky rice and gai yang (grilled chicken) are staples of the Northeast Region of Thailand, known as Isaan, which borders Laos. The region is know for being the backwater of Thailand and therefore produces hearty-rustic cuisine, unlike the more refined Royal Cuisine of Bangkok. In fact, the cultured Thais make a joke of calling Isaan “Lao”, a dig intended to distance themselves from their country brethren.

For my part, I love Isaan and Laos. I love the people, the food and the culture. They are easy-going, jovial sorts who eat with their hands, drink lots and lots of booze (Lao Lao) and welcome you as family when you visit. When I meet a new Thai person for the first time and they are surprised that I speak some Thai, I often break the ice by saying “phom pen kohn Lao”, which implies ‘I am from Isaan’. Laughter ensues.

I don’t cook Thai food often. Frankly, I leave most Asian food to Asians. There are subtleties that only evolve from submersive practice of a cuisine over a lifetime that I may never master. I can fake it with the best of them, but seeing an old woman huddled over a mortar and pestle banging out some som tam is truly one of the great culinary treasures on this earth. From the way she masterfully slices the papaya, to the exacting measure of garlic, fish sauce, dried shrimp – it’s an artform. I have a much better grasp of diner food, Continental and California techniques.

Still, when I get a hankering to throw down some Thai, I look to Isaan. The dominate flavors all come together in almost every dish: spicy, sour, sweet and salty. Fish sauce, lime juice, palm sugar and chilies form the foundation. The stuff is pretty easy to make, but wows a crowd because it is at once exotic and damn tasty.

This weekend I was in full 4-year old mode. With an only child we are hyper-sensitive about arranging for play dates. It gives him companionship and gives us a break. I was all about the play dates this weekend. Sleepover, birthday party, park, kid’s club at the gym – it was exhausting. To make matters worse, on Sunday night I offered to BBQ at my house. It was either that or play chase, hide and seek, puzzles and watch Spongebob all night. I welcomed the hoard of children that would come. The cooking, I can handle.

I grabbed some whole chickens from Avedano’s a female-owned sustainable butcher shop in Bernal. I’ve had mixed opinions about their offerings, but I’m fully on board after these chickens. At $3.79 a pound for pasture-raised birds, it was a great deal and a great bird. The birds got cut up into 8 pieces (minus the back, skin-on, bones-a-plenty) and took a soak in a bath of good fish sauce (not the crap from the Philippines), garlic, palm sugar, a splash of soy, a hint of chilies, white pepper, coriander and black pepper. I tossed and turned them four about three hours. The longer the better.

For sticky rice you need to have a special basket and pot. Look online if you don’t have a Thai grocer nearby (but I mean really, who doesn’t have a Thai grocer nearby? sheesh). The “sweet, glutenous rice” needs to soak in water for about 2-3 hours before cooking. You can find this special kind of rice from, you guessed it, a Thai grocer. Or online. You must use the right tools here – you can’t fake sticky rice. And this is the only rice you can serve with these dishes. Ya hear me? Fill up the cooking pot and put the rice in the basket to steam until it is tender and forms a nice ball when squeezed together.

Back to the chicken. Light a charcoal fire on half of your grill. Put all of the marinated chicken pieces on the other half. Let them cook with indirect heat and smoke, turning occasionally, for about 20-30 minutes. Keep checking for doneness so they don’t dry out. By using indirect heat, it is much harder to dry out the chicken. When you’re just about to pull them off, put them over the coals for a minute to get some sweet char on them.

Serve the whole mess family style. Put the sticky rice in a bowl and cover with a damp warm towel. Toss the chicken in a little bit of Thai sweet chili sauce, just to give it a light glaze. Not too much. Encourage your guests to eat with the hands and tear in. The technique is to scoop some rice and then grab a hunk of meat with the rice. The sounds of chomping and slurping an “oh that’s good” and “give me more” will follow. A true food orgy.

I served this batch with some fiery haricot verts (Dirty Girl Farms: we love you!) made with some simple roasted chili paste, a little fish sauce, ciopllini onions and a splash of soy. Saute them on high heat until slightly tender. I also cheated and grabbed a bucket of Som Tom I had Grand Pu Bah whip up for me. You try and manage a gaggle of kids running around your house for an impromptu BBQ AND make Som Tom!

For dessert, I have to give a shout out to our friend Katja who was able to pull together a honey-yogurt ice cream last minute that rocked! We topped them with the Dirty Girl Farms strawberries for a perfect end to the meal.

This dinner made me think that maybe I could go a little deeper into Thai cuisine. Subtleties be damned, the stuff is just that good. At the least every chef needs to be able to pull out some family-style Thai that shake things up from your standard ho-hum BBQ to something otherworldly.

It’s a Hit! Green Beans and Farro

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I was invited to a dinner party of a foodie friend of mine who was planning to pull out some David Tanis dishes, from “Platter of Figs”. She asked that I whip up his summer squash and squash blossom sumthin sumthin and I agreed. As the day progressed, I was faced with a dilemma – shop for said dish or take a nap. Nuff said, right?

So I peeked in the fridge to see what I could conjur. My Eatwell Farms CSA box has been dumping some major green beanage on me lately. Three pounds in three weeks. I was thinking I was going to have to pawn some, freeze some or compost some. But, lo, I hatched a plan.

Foraging my cupboards I found the remnants of a pack of Farro, a cup or so. To that I added some lovely Parmigiano Reggiano and the last of my Eatwell pastured eggs for the week. Viola – this could work. Actually, what happened was that my peeps were full of praise for this last minute ensemble. So much so, that it became post worthy. My head is still inflated from their kudos (or maybe that’s just the natural state, both literally and figuratively).

Green Bean and Farro Salad

Green Bean and Farro Salad

I do have the admit that the elements make a lot of sense. Green beans bring a heap of veggie flavor which balance nicely with the nuttiness of the farro and the creamy, yet tart parmigiano. The eggs were really just for show, but played well without getting lost (I counted at least one convert to the pastured egg, right Jodi?). Simple dressing keeps the elements together without overpowering. Our host commented that she loved how you could taste every element on it’s own, but they went well together. Here’s how it’s done.

Boil a large pot of ever-so-salty water (you’re gonna start to learn that you really need to salt your water well in most dishes if you’re ever gonna get serious here people – I keep a large box of kosher salt for this purpose). Snap the ends off the beans and toss them in the boiling water for a couple of minutes. They should still have some snap to them, but have softened a little – it’s called blanching, yo! Pull them out and put them in a bath of ice water pronto. This will stop the cooking and put a monster green hue. Let them chill completely and then wrap them in paper towels and stick them in the fridge.

Make boiled eggs. A trick I recently learned is to put them in the cold water, bring it to a boil and then cover them off the flames for 10 minutes. Roll them around to crack the shells and put them in an ice water bath till ready to peel. Boil salty water for the faro. It cooks just like pasta. When it is al dente strain it and put it in the fridge or freezer to cool off.

The Dinner Party

The Dinner Party

Cut the dried beans in half and add to a serving bowl. Add the faro. Zest a lemon on top and then add the juice of a half of the lemon. Drizzle fruity olive oil (the good stuff) and generously salt and pepper. Use a vegetable peeler and scrape small pieces of the parmigiano into the mix. I think this is important. If you grate the cheese, it will not give you the pungent pop of a small slice. Not too big, but enough to hit back, like the size of your pinky. Toss it all together and place the eggs on top for contrast.

This went really well with our host’s grilled halibut with a mango salsa.

Marcella Hazan’s Tomato Onion and Butter Sauce

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Marcella Hazan

Marcella Hazan

Marcella Hazan is the Godmother of Italian cooking. That’s Godmother with a capital “G” because she deserves some respect. I neglected to mention that after I returned from living in Italy, it was Marcella’s book “The Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking” that became my bible for many years to follow. If you do not own this book and want to improve your Italian skills in the kitchen, click in the image below and buy it now. Everyone should have this on their shelf. In fact, you should run through it an prepare every recipe once.

I don’t even need to open the book to give you the Tomato sauce recipe. It’s so straightforward and easy that even the worst cook can get this right. I memorized it after my first try. And……this sauce is one of those revelatory moments in the culinary arts where you discover the simplicity in balance flavors to create something unique. What happens here is that the sweetness and earthiness of the tomatoes gets infused by the richness of the butter. All the while, the onion imparts it’s own mojo without overpowering. Salt provides a kick at the end that brings everything to their fullest potential.

Click to Purchase

Click to Purchase

Here’s how it’s done: For every can of San Marzano (DOP only) Roma tomatoes, use a half a stick of unsalted, high-quality butter (I prefer Plugra or other European style) and a half of an onion, peeled but kept in tact. Put the whole thing together in a large pot and simmer for about an hour until the fat bubbles to the top. Mash up the tomato frequently until it gets smooth. Remove the onion before serving. Add salt to taste – I like to use a nice sea salt with this sauce. It can handle it.

Artichoke Ravioli

Artichoke Ravioli

This sauce is not for all pasta. That’s the trick for a good pasta maker – pairing is critical. What works for this sauce is: gnocchi, fresh pasta (not dried) – thick like papardelle and cheese-stuffed pastas such as ravioli (probably the best marriage because the creaminess of the cheese goes oh so perfectly). Also, I find this sauce works great on top of a frittata or polenta.

I’m expecting a lot of feedback on this one. I remember the day I discovered it myself and how I stood dumbfounded in the kitchen that I stumbled on something miraculous. Now get out there and cook!