Food Woolf – Page 12

Border Grill Taco Truck vs. Kogi

Since the beginning of the Mozza’s, Nancy Silverton has celebrated this nation’s independence day with her employees. Naturally gracious and generous, Nancy has opened her home to her dedicated kitchen staff (the chefs, prep cooks, dishwashers) and gregarious front of house employees (servers, bussers, bartenders) and invited them to eat, drink and be merry.

Every year a new challenge

The first annual Fourth of July Mozza party Nancy served trays of food from Marouch, the second year employees gobbled up burgers from an In-n-Out truck for hours and on the third annual Fourth of July party Nancy decided it was time for a culinary showdown.

I got a message from Nancy on my voicemail, late Friday night.

“Brooke. It’s Nancy. Nancy Silverton. Call me.”

Granted, Nancy doesn’t call me every day—or ever, to be honest—but the fact that my name and number lives in her phone at all makes me very, very happy. “I’ve got the Kogi truck and the Border Grill girls coming.” She told me early Saturday morning. “It’s going to be a taco truck showdown.”

The showdown

Kogi was the first to arrive. When the truck pulled into Nancy’s driveway, Mozza employees quickly began lining up for a chance to try Kogi. Kogi + a short line + free meal = happy employees. With plastic cups filled with beer and Italian wine, the party guests happily chit-chatted as they waited for their Korean tacos.

When asked if most people had tried Kogi before, many admitted they hadn’t. A few taco truck afficionados admitted they had and added, “It’s not waiting in one of those lines, though.”

Granted, the people that work at Mozza have very high standards when it comes to the food they eat, serve, and cook. But overall, the general consensus was that the Kogi truck offered good flavors but nothing that was worth waiting for in an hour line.

We all sampled the dishes before passing judgment*. The rich short rib slider was sweet and savory and offered the a perfect textural interplay between the chewy meat and the soft bun. But as we progressed though the spicy pork and chicken tacos we found the flavors to be too similar –everything is sugary sweet and red chili spicy–and the tacos didn’t offer any diversity in taste. Updating a classic street food can offer all sorts of great culinary discoveries, but unfortunately, the Kogi truck’s hand-held dishes all tasted the same. Hitting the same flavor note over and over again is monotonous.

It was about the time when most people were considering what to eat next when the Border Grill truck pulled up curbside. Within seconds of parking outside of Nancy’s beautiful ivy covered home, a line spontaneously formed.

With Kogi truck chef, Roy Choi, near the front of the line to sample the competition, we were all excited to see what the Border Grill girls had cooked up for us. Mozza guests ooohed and aaahed as co-workers at the front of the line offered views of their trio of tacos. The three Border Grill tacos were a bright rainbow of colors: Purple/red pickled onions, green guacamole, bright white sour cream excited hunger and signaled palates to be prepared for some taco diversity.

The sweet, crunchy acidity of the red onions gave a wonderful textural counterpoint to the soft and flavorful meat of the cochinita pibls pork taco. The squared cubes of potato in the potato rajas taco were cooling morsels between bites of the spicy meats. The guacamole had people licking their fingers and stealing mouthfuls from their distracted co-workers. The roasted poblano quesadilla with cheese was a mild choice good for a large party, but had big pieces of pickled jalepeno on the side for those that like to spice things up.

Two taco trucks rolled up. Only one wheeled-kitchen would win.

Based on the unabated line at the Border Grill truck, the tossed trays of half-eaten Kogi, and sophisticated discussion (and drunken banter) about the merits of the Korean tacos and the appreciation of classic Mexican cuisine– it very quickly became clear who the winner was.

Border Grill wheels away with bragging rights

As the trucks pulled away and inebriated–I mean satiated–party guests gathered their things, we gathered around our generous host to thank her for opening her home (and pool) to each and every one of us culinary misfits. We look forward to seeing what’s in store for next year’s party!

*I have had Kogi three times–once at the Alibi room (I waited 45 minutes for my trio of tacos), once at Nancy’s party (the tacos were free) and once at a food event (also free).

July 4

God Bless America

I might not say it much, but I really am proud to be an American. Proud to live in a democratic country where freedom of speech is treasured and issues of ethics are weighed and decided by many–not just one supreme leader.

It’s true, I’m not really a flag waving kind of girl, but I do have moments of civic pride. The night Obama was sworn in had me wishing I could bang a drum and sing that hokey tune they always sing at sporting events about being proud to be an American. When I hear my mother and father in-law talk about how lucky they feel to have immigrated from Guatemala and become citizens in a country so beautiful, safe and full of opportunities my heart swells with appreciation. And early one morning in September of 2001, I cried tears of pride and humility when I heard about the courageous American men and women that helped bring their own plane down, in order to save hundreds–if not thousands–of others.

Beyond the philosophies, declarations and laws that make up this great country, the thing I’m most proud of are the American people. Once I get past the stereotypical personas and bone chilling ignorance of some, I am struck by the fact that this place celebrates believing in yourself and the freedom to pursue The American Dream.

I recently heard a political comedian say this of Americans: “We’re not a thinking people. We just do it.” And though this behavior often gets many of us Americans into quite a bit of trouble at the dinner table, international events and war zones, I do find this American trait endearing.

Fearless Passion

The fearless passions of the American people can sometimes be a scary thing, but the juxtaposition of brilliance and ignorance is what has made me become a writer, journalist and story teller.

I raise a glass to the American people. Here’s to our differences and the freedom to express ourselves.

June 28January 4

Foodbuzz 24, 24, 24: Zingerman’s Guide to Good Eating

“I’m craving American food!” said no one, ever.

I’ve lived in the US my entire life and never have I heard anyone exclaim such a thing. But now that I’ve eaten at Zingerman’s Roadhouse—an Ann Arbor, Michigan restaurant that celebrates the culinary traditions and artisan food makers of the United States–I’ll be saying that phrase a lot. Zingerman’s Roadhouse makes me proud to be an American and hungry for its regional specialties.

Where else can a discerning food lover enjoy tasty buttermilk fried chicken, savory Southern Carolina BBQ, sweet Hawaiian Pineapple Chicken Salad, meaty Maryland crab cakes and earthy-sweet Pennsylvania Dutch Creamed corn in one glorious location?

One trip to the Roadhouse and you’ll save yourself a three thousand mile cross-country culinary tour. The masterminds behind Zingerman’s Roadhouse studied the nation’s gastronomic traditions with the care of scholars and created a menu that celebrates the nation’s best dishes all in one central locale.

Zingerman’s puts Ann Arbor on the culinary map

Zingerman’s may have started in 1982 as solitary delicatessen dedicated to serving great sandwiches, but it has since grown to include six other establishments that consist of a bakehouse, creamery, training branch, culinary press, and an impressive mail-order artisan food company. The Roadhouse—the seventh establishment in the Zingerman’s Community of Businesses—is a tour de force where elements from all of the culinary outposts can come together.

Welcome to the Roadhouse

Enter the Roadhouse and Zingerman’s friendly staff is always happy to help. Past the blur of the busy open kitchen, beyond the colorful signage announcing daily specials and the glass cases filled with vintage salt and pepper shakers, you’ll find diners tucked away in backroom booths, bellied up to the bar or lounging outside at tables adjacent to the barbecue pit.

My husband and I sat at the bar so that we could study the names of the Michigan-local brew taps. We were impressed by the extensive selection of rare Bourbons, jars of house made maraschino cherries and containers filled with freshly squeezed juices. Unlike many restaurants across our fair country, no mixers are used and only fresh ingredients are stocked behind the bar.

Our barkeep, Adam, greeted us with an uncommon enthusiasm and excited menu descriptions that had us wishing we could order everything. Adam told us how Roadhouse Chef/Partner, Alex Young had such a commitment to fresh ingredients he started a three-acre organic farm to supply the restaurant with all its seasonal produce. Located in Dexter, Michigan, the Roadhouse’s dedicated farm produces lettuces, radishes, scapes, morels, asparagus, and almost thirty different heirloom varieties of tomatoes for the restaurant. Roadhouse food wastes are composted and trucked to the farm to improve the health of the earth.

While still mulling over the menu choices, Adam presented my husband and I with a sample of the Roadhouse’s famous barbeque. On the plate were mouthfuls of pulled pork topped with three different sauces: earthy, eastern North Carolina vinegar, sweet Memphis tomato, and spicy South Carolina mustard. Adam explained how Ed Mitchell, a North Carolina native and pit master, moved to Michigan to teach the Zingerman’s crew how to smoke free-range, heirloom-breed hogs over oak for over fourteen hours and prepare the meat southern-style.

To drink, we ordered the Jolly Pumpkin “La Roja, a sour amber craft beer that gets its tart, food friendly acidity from naturally occurring yeasts found in the brewery. Within seconds of sampling the beer, a smiling server named Brian dashed over to enthusiastically approve of our beer choice.

“Cool!” the young man with the long side burns exclaimed with unsolicited enthusiasm. “You guys picked the best beer we have!”

We paired our sour beer with Zingerman’s Chesapeake Bay Crab Cakes ($12.50). More Maryland jumbo lump blue crab meat than anything else, the cake’s sweet flavor was enhanced by a dollop of Zingerman’s ultimate tartar sauce*.

While waiting for our next course, the bartender poured us a sample of Zaison, a Belgian styled beer Jason Spaulding, the Roadhouse’s bar manager (and former New Holland Brewery’s brewmaster), created for the restaurant. As we enjoyed the beer’s zesty flavors and light style we had the good fortune of meeting Jason, and happily listened as he explained how he came to make the food-centric, single-batch brew with orange peel and black pepper.

If it isn’t clear yet that the Roadhouse isn’t your typical restaurant, it’s time to point out an important aspect that many people don’t realize is a key to Zingerman’s success: an unrivaled commitment to service. From the minute you walk through the door, every employee goes out of their way to make sure that they can help give you the best possible experience. Want to have creamed corn instead of coleslaw on your entrée? Sure. Want a behind-the-scenes look at what’s going on inside Zingerman’s Roadshow (a free standing take out “trailer” designed for speedy breakfast, lunch and dinner to-go orders)? Come on inside! At Zingerman’s, “no” is not in the employee’s vocabulary.

In preparation for the arrival of our entrees, we ordered the Dragon’s Milk Beer. This gloriously dark and hoppy beer from Michigan, gets its vanilla and mocha flavors from being aged in bourbon barrels.

The beer paired perfectly with the sweet, Niman Ranch pork ribs ($19 for a half rack). Cooked for nine hours in Alex’s Red Rage Tomato BBQ sauce, the ribs were served on—thanks to Zingerman’s yes-we-can attitude–a generous portion of South Carolina corn grits and mustard coleslaw. The sweet and meaty ribs were fall-off-the-bone tender and chewy from the long, slow cook. The grainy texture of the grits and the sweet crunch of the coleslaw made the title “side dish” seem like an insult—these were must-have bites that required our full attention.

We enjoyed the Southern Carolina mustard BBQ pork entrée ($11.50) with Pennsylvania Dutch Creamed Corn and Southern-style braised collard greens. The mustard vinegar sauce (a favorite in western South Carolina) enhanced the moist and flavorful pork without overpowering the meat’s natural flavors. The earthy sweetness and playful texture of the creamed corn played perfectly against the tart collard greens.

Had we more room for food, we would have ordered the Buttermilk-fried free range chicken with mashed potatoes, gravy and coleslaw. But we had enjoyed that dish and many others on a previous visit, and thought better to save room for dessert.

Thank god we did, because the Roadhouse brownie sundae is not to be missed. Zingerman’s bakehouse brownies are crave-worthy on their own. But served warm, with the Creamery’s fresh vanilla ice cream, a perfect amount of hot fudge and a house-made maraschino cherry—we were in heaven.

As a fan of one of America’s greatest liquors—Bourbon—I decided to try a Roadhouse specialty cocktail. . A perfect American cocktail to end a perfectly American meal, the Kentucky Bed Warmer is made with Knob Creek and Blenheim ginger ale. It’s a delightful tippler that aids digestion and makes you smile.

It’s only been a day since I visited the Roadhouse, but I can already feel a new kind of craving coming on. I turn to my husband with a smile.

“Hey honey, guess what I’m craving…”

Kentucky Bed Warmer
From Zingerman’s Roadhouse

2 ounces Knob Creek
1 ounce Orange Curacao
2 dashes Orange bitters
Blenheim ginger ale
Orange zest

Add Knob Creek, Orange Curacao and bitters to a Boston shaker filled with ice. Stir until chilled. Add to bucket glass and fill with Blenheim ginger ale. Top with orange zest and serve.

*Zingerman’s Tartar Sauce is a delicious blend of mayo, Dijon mustard, minced cornichon, minced red onion, diced plum tomatoes, Quebec cider vinegar and sugar. Try making your own version at home!

NOTE: Thank you so much to the generous people at FoodBuzz.com for their support of this blog and helping fund this food adventure.

June 19January 4

The Rosetta Shallot

Sometimes it’s the smallest lessons that have the power to change every aspect of the way you think. Some people call that life changing moment a “shift”. Oprah branded the concept and named it the “Aha” moment.

If I were an influential branding agent, I think I would find a word to signify the transitional moment in the kitchen when cooking is forever changed by a single lesson. Maybe I’d call it “the cast iron moment”, or maybe I’d go with something quite simple, like “shallots.”

My culinary brain was irrevocably rewired the day I understood shallots. Not long ago, while dining for the first time at the Chez Panisse Café, I found myself marveling at the tiny outbursts of sweet and crunchy acidity hidden between leafy mixed greens. I pulled the plate closer to discover the delicious source of the complex flavors. My charming waiter, Daniel, stepped up to the table as I inspected the perfect, tiny cubes of purple and white hiding underneath the wild arugula on my plate.

“What is that amazing flavor?” I asked him with awe. “Onion?”

Daniel smiled politely. Without a bit of judgment he blew my mind with these three words: “They are shallots.” Well drop a pin in my map of culinary time and mark it “shallots”. My salads and mignonettes have never been the same since.

Pre-Shallots (PS)

Before I truly understood the subtle power of the shallot (the 12th century crusaders called the shallot “valuable treasure”), I mistakenly thought them to be a smaller, more expensive version of the onion. Though shallots may have a similar structure to onions —concentric rings and a papery skin—they are a different species altogether.

Rosetta shallot

Now that comprehend the role shallots play in simple salads and gorgeous mignonettes, I can, so to speak, understand their language. Now whenever I go to the farmers’ market, I’m sure to pick up a couple of tight, heavy shallots (I prefer the smaller ones for their mild flavor and sweetness) for my week’s menu.

At home, I transform the shallots into a pile of tiny, mignonette squares, drizzle them with red wine vinegar, cover the stuff, and leave the precious mix in the refrigerator. Having this shallot mise-en-place on hand saves time and creates the most incredible salads in just seconds.

Shallots can be found year round, but the prime time for them is from April through August. When choosing shallots, look for firm ones that are heavy for their size. Avoid shallots with soft spots or are sprouting.

[print_link]Simple Salad with Shallot Vinaigrette
One of the best parts about learning basic technique, is that you don’t need to have recipes. Salad making is one of the best places to learn how to create by feel and with your taste buds. Allow this to be a simple guide.

Two big handfuls of greens (washed and dried)
2-3 fresh radish (or another lovely market vegetable), thinly sliced
great olive oil like Oleificio Chianti extra virgin olive oil (Alice Water’s olive oil of choice)
Salt
Pepper
1 shallot, cubed uniformly
good red wine vinegar

Toss the cubed shallot into a small bowl and drizzle with red wine vinegar. Let sit for at least 15-20 minutes. Fill a salad bowl with enough mixed greens for the number of people you are serving. Season with salt and pepper. Drizzle lightly with olive oil. Gently toss with clean hands. Take a generous pinch of the wine soaked shallots and add to salad. Toss and taste for balance. Drizzle more vinegar if needed. Add some of the sliced radish and toss again. Taste and then plate the salad onto cold plates. Add the final amounts of radish to the plate for color and serve.

June 16

Home Bartending 101

I will always be grateful for the skills I’ve picked up while working in restaurants. Being able to clear multiple plates from a table is a great trick. The ability to recall the flavor profile of a wine upon mere mention helps out at the wine store. But one of my favorite acquired talents is my drink making ability.

If you’ve ever had a delicious crafted cocktail, the balance of flavors prove there is much more going on in the glass than just alcohol and mixers. Like cooking a great meal, cocktail making require understanding philosophies of flavor and real technique in order to elevate the drink to its “awesome cocktail” status.

Ask any bartender and they’ll tell you that the first lesson in drink making is that even though some guests will suffer through a slightly flawed appetizer, most won’t stand for such failings when it comes to a $14 cocktail. If a drink is too sweet or too sour it will get sent back. On a busy night at the restaurant, the last thing your bartender wants to do is remake another cocktail. Make enough hand muddled mint and lime mojitos (I’d guess I’ve made about a million) and you soon learn how to make a pefectly balanced drink. Every time.

Though the average person has no interest in working in restaurants, most would really like to be able to create a great tasting cocktail. Here are a few pointers that can help you make great cocktails at home.

Think like a chef

–Understand the balance of flavors. Acidic, sweet and savory components must work together to create a perfect union of flavor. Sweet, spicy and savory ingredients should complement spirits—not overpower them. Constantly taste for balance of flavors.

–Use the best ingredients. A drink can only taste as good as the ingredients used. Use fresh fruit and vegetables for cocktails. Make everything from scratch. Never use pre-made mixes.

–Learn classic techniques. Know traditional cocktails before experimenting with new ideas.

Have the right tools

Chefs need a handful of kitchen essentials to do their job. So do bartenders. Regardless of your desire to make a good drink, you never will be able to do it well until you have a solid bar kit. Stay away from the pre-packaged kits from big name stores and go to a restaurant supply place.

These three items are essential for any home bar. You will need:
–A Boston Shaker—the pint glass and a metal shaker combo used by most bartenders
–a wood muddler
–a handheld juicer. Cut a lemon or lime in half, pop it into the metal squeezer and bam! You’ve got juice! A handheld citrus squeezer like this is great for quickly adding citrus to whatever you’re making. I prefer the larger metal kind that can easily be found in the bartending section of most restaurant supply stores.

—buy some booze
One bottle of vodka, rum and bourbon is a good start. Buy a secondary “seasoning” liquor that you can use for flavoring cocktails: think Sweet or Dry Vermouth, an Italian digestivo, or a fruit or nut flavored liquor (Grand Marnier, Amaretto, etc.).

—Make a batch of simple syrup
Making cocktails at home is so much easier when you have a jar of simple syrup on hand. Cook up a good sized batch, put in a covered glass container and it will keep in the refrigerator for weeks. If you don’t mind adding a golden hue to your drinks, I suggest trying brown sugar to make your simple syrup. I like the rounder flavor it gives my drinks.

[print_link]

Recipe for Simple Syrup
A fundamental ingredient for bartending is this incredibly simple syrup.

One part sugar
Two parts water

Bring water to a boil and add sugar. Reduce heat and cook down until the liquid begins to look syrupy. Adding spice and herbs to the simple syrup as it cooks down is a great (and easy) way to impart flavors to a drink.

June 15March 14

Farmers Market Cocktail Recipe

I’m one of those people that go to the farmers’ market with nothing more than a handful of dollars and a culinary mind that’s ready for inspiration. A vegetable’s texture and bright color sets my mind racing. A ripe piece of fruit entices me with its soft skin and mouth-filling juices. Sweet or savory, I’m always amazed at what the market inspires in my kitchen.

This week at the market was all about the fruit. I filled my bags with cherries, juicy stone fruits and bright citrus. But it was boysenberries–glistening gems from Jimenez Farms’–that inspired my imagination.

Not up for baking or jelly making, I set out to create a cocktail that celebrated the fruit’s delicate nature and its robust flavors. It took me a couple of tries, but I finally found the perfect ingredients to celebrate the fruit’s sweetness and savory flavors. After the last sip of juice I was fishing around the bottom of the glass for every delicious morsel of fruit.

[print_link]

The Gemmy

½ tangerine (or sweet citrus), juiced
½ lemon, juiced
5 boysenberries
1 oz simple syrup
2 oz spiced rum (I prefer Barbancourt)
2 branches of thyme

In a cocktail mixer, muddle boysenberries and the leaves from one branch of thyme. Juice half a lemon and tangerine into the glass. Add the simple syrup and rum and then fill the glass with ice. Shake well and serve immediately. Garnish with the remaining branch of thyme.

June 8November 14

Food Woolf on Edible Los Angeles’ Blog

The day I met Nathan Dadouk, the artisan baker of Tavern Restaurant, I was blown away. Beyond the immediate flavors of his rustic breads, I was moved by his passion for the ancient art of bread making. I found myself fighting back tears as he told the story of how, at the tender age of eleven, he came to learn the art of bread making from a monk and master baker while attending a boarding school in Venezuela.

Nathan’s passion for dough and his study of bread making made such a compelling story, I found myself gushing to LA friends about my new favorite food artisan. Had they ever heard of Nathan? Had they visited Tavern for dinner or gone to the Larder to order a loaf (or ten) of bread? Eventually, I realized, it was time for me to stop gushing, collect my thoughts and write a story about Nathan.

But first, research!

I took a loaf of Nathan’s multigrain bread home with me to experiment with. In just one week, his whole grain boule inspired thick pieces of toast with butter and jelly for breakfast, open-faced burgers for lunch, and marinated mussels in olive oil and vinegar for maximum bread dipp-age. Nathan’s passion for the look of the bread’s interior, the feel of the crust and the acidity level of the dough will most certainly inspire many more meals.

Several loaves of bread later, I had the incredible good fortune to meet the super-talented Lucy Lean, Edible Los Angeles‘ new editor (thanks T&D!). As a huge fan of the Edible publications, I was thrilled to meet Lucy.

Like Nathan, Lucy is a true artist and visionary. Since joining the magazine she has worked incredibly hard to update the look and feel of Edible LA. The spectacular results can be seen both on the quarterly’s pages and on the magazine’s website (which includes an amazing video of Chef Michael Cimarusti made by my friends White on Rice!)

Within minutes of meeting, I couldn’t help but gush about Nathan to Lucy. Luckily, Lucy loved the story and asked me to write about Nathan for Edible’s new blog which features posts from noted bloggers (like Spicy Salty Sweet, White on Rice and…me!)

Please swing by the website to read honest stories about our region’s culinary culture, chefs, local farmers and the food artisans that make eating in southern California so amazing. And if you have the chance, check out my profile of Nathan.

Want a copy of the summer issue of Edible LA? Pick up a copy at Whole Foods, your local farmers’ market or any of these locations!

June 5November 14

Food Blogging News Weekly Round Up: June 5

Good Milk
Some uplifting news from the dairy world. At Straus family farms, things are actually looking up and sales are slowly increasing. Ethicurean writes about the struggles facing dairy farmers and how one farm is fighting to maintain their market share.

So you think you wanna be a chef
Thanks to slick magazines and popular reality TV, it’s finally cool to be a chef. But what it takes to become one isn’t easy. Long hours, brutal conditions and low pay are ego crushing aspects of the job that most culinary students don’t fully appreciate until they’re facing the hot flames of a kitchen after seven eighteen hour days in a row.

Before you fork over the big bucks to go to culinary school, check out Shuna Fish Lydon’s delicious blog, Egg Beater. Lydon is a pastry chef that not only works in the business but she also writes about her life in the kitchen. In a recent post, she suggests that if you want to be a chef, start saving your pennies and turn off the reality TV cooking show. “This industry isn’t for the faint of heart. It’s for the passionate, the crazy, the driven, the competitive.”

Food-oirs
Thanks to Anthony Bourdain’s flawless food memoir, Kitchen Confidential, lots of people think they can write about their life in food. The New York Times reviews three new food memoirs on the stands.

Speaking of Bourdain…
Here is his GQ top ten list of places to eat before you die via Russ & Daughters website (my favorite smoked fish and bagel shop in the Lower East Side).

Back in the Good ‘Ol Days
Back in the depression the US Government gave out of work writers stipends to spread out across the country and write about the diversity of food in our fifty states. The collection of WPA writings were never published (thanks WW2), but are finally being released this month. Mark Kurlansky edited the collection: THE FOOD OF A YOUNGER LAND

The Service Problem…
Comments on service from two people that eat out a lot. Though the Zagats may be difficult people to wait on (true story), they offer this feedback on how restaurants can be better about giving great service.

Blog Shilling
Food Blogger, Chez Pim, endorses a yogurt brand and promises the NY Times that her ethics are intact. “It’s been important to me that I keep my ethics and I don’t shill.” She says that she would only agree to endorse a product (for what amount of money she will not disclose) that she believes in.

Bourdain’s List

June 2November 14

How to help your local dairy farmer

There’s a crisis happening in the food world and few have any idea that one of our country’s most beloved food industries is on the verge of collapse.

Your local dairy farmer is on the brink of disaster.

Milk does a body good, but not the dairy farmer

As things stand, current milk prices equal half of what it takes for dairy farmers to feed and milk their cows. If milk prices don’t stabilize soon, independent dairy farmers across our country will fold. Some warn that beyond the loss of local dairy farms, many of these farmers are losing the will to go on.

In just six months, two dairy farmers have committed suicide.

Thanks to the recent recession and pressure from large dairy corporations like Hood and Horizon, individual farmers are struggling to keep from losing everything. Every carton of milk sold at the grocery store represents a loss of funds at a local dairy farm.

According to Amanda St. Pierre of Dairy Farmers Working Together, many farmers are so depressed by their increasing debts they refuse to put time towards bringing public awareness to their cause–for fear of missing valuable hours of work.

A lose/lose situation

According to a recent Los Angeles Times story, California dairy farmers have been hit especially hard. As the number one dairy state, California farms produce one-fifth of the nation’s supply of milk—that’s $7 billion worth of milk annually. LA Times writer, Jerry Hirsch reports that farmers are staying afloat by getting loans on their property and selling off their cows for slaughter. If milk prices don’t go up soon, he wrote, farmers will spend the loaned funds in short time and quickly go out of business.

As an increasing number of dairy farms face bankruptcy, the future for our nation’s milk farmers looks increasingly dim. Even the organic dairy farmers—once the most profitable sector of the dairy business—have seen any profit disappear as health-conscientious customers skip the higher-priced organic milk for lower priced options from large conglomerations. Now, many farmers are wishing they hadn’t made the investment to go organic.

Respect the Cow

After seventeen years as a beans and rice vegetarian—I avoided meat and poultry for political and ethical reasons–I started eating red meat after becoming increasingly desperate for a change of diet and a source of real iron. I forsook food politics for the health benefits of–and pure enjoyment from–unabashed eating. A thorough read of Michael Pollan’s Omnivore’s Dilemma changed all that, however, as his words reminded me of the need for political and ethical eating–even as an omnivore.

I quickly adapted my post-Pollan diet to create ways for my buying dollars to show respect for the animals’ lives, the planet’s needs, the farmers’ work and the talents of dedicated artisans–while still enjoying my foodie cravings.

When I read this week’s shocking story in the LA Times about California dairy farmers, I began wondering what I could do as a consumer to help put a stop to this mounting crisis.

HOW CAN WE HELP?

Request local dairy farmers’ participation at your local farmers’ market: According to a recent New York Times article, some New England farmers are considering selling their milk directly to the public. Research dairy farms in your area and ask the farmers to participate in your local farmers’ market.

Local dairy farmers could take advantage of the recent popularity of local farmers’ and begin to offer their products directly to the consumer. With this sort of presence, consumers will have access to information about where their milk comes from, how the cows are raised, and will have a direct relationship with the farmer that will result in dedicated buying dollars. In addition, the Vermont House of Representatives recently passed a bill month to increase the amount of raw milk a farmer can at farmers’ markets.

When possible, pay extra to buy local.

Boycott bad brands
According to the Organic Consumers Association, brands like Horizon not only manipulate local farmers to lower their milk prices, but as a corporation they use loopholes in national organic standards to sell a milk produced from factory farm feedlots where the animals have been brought in from conventional farms and are kept in intensive confinement, with little or no access to pasture.

Get political

–Sign the Holstein Association’s petition for the USA Dairy Price Stabilization Program.
–Sign a letter from Farm Aid to Secretary Vilsack asking for his support in setting fair prices for milk for our nation’s Dairy Farmers.
–Donate to Dairy Farmers Working Together or email them here to join their newsletter to find out about the upcoming Dairy Farmers Working Together conference call, slated to happen on June 30th. On this call you will be able to hear about issues facing dairy farmers and what concerned consumers can do to support dairy farmers.
— Send a letter to HP Hood to stop requiring Organic farms to reduce production.

What ideas do you have for lending support to your local dairy farmer?

May 29November 14

Food Blogging News Weekly Round Up: May 29

When burning books might be a good idea
Librarians are quick to defend freedom of speech, but a handful of them aren’t afraid to talk about the need for current titles. Proof that librarians really know when it’s time to pull a book from the shelf. Here at Awful Library Books.

Keep your hands to yourself
A regular feature at Chronicle Books’ blog is this 7×7 column that offers a restaurant insider’s view of what it takes to wait tables. Her most recent post offers this advice: Hands off! *And since the general dining public doesn’t seem to understand this concept, here is a simple reminder:

Touching your waiter is a real no-no! If you don’t know what I mean, ponder this: when was the last time you reached out and tapped your bank teller on the shoulder for service?

Burgers for everyone
Clinton loved em. Obama likes ’em too. Our new president loves his burgers.

Follow this
Ad Age thinks there are 25 people you really should be following on Twitter. Here are twenty-five cutting edge social media people you should know about.

May 28March 14

Market Vegetables with Meyer Lemon Cream Recipe

As a food lover, working at a restaurant can be a wonderful and cruel thing. You’re surrounded by food and required never to take a bite. You may be hungry but there’s no time to eat (and the last thing the kitchen wants to do is make an employee a meal). Working in restaurants is like being stranded on the ocean in a dingy: You’re surrounded by a beautiful, beguiling thing that you can not consume.

The fact that I handle plates of beautifully crafted appetizers, sculpted entrees and arousing desserts on a nightly basis may have something to do with my obsession to recreate the chef’s dishes at home. And honestly, not eating and being surrounded by food begins to get to you. Especially when you’re so hungry you could eat your own hand.

One dish that’s saved me from nibbling off a pinky for sustenance is a market vegetable dish inspired by my new boss, Chef Suzanne Goin. Goin’s appetizer of market vegetables with Meyer Lemon cream and “burrata” is truly something to behold and a dish I’ve been pushing–I mean suggesting–to guests ever since Tavern Restaurant opened several weeks ago.

The dish is a beautiful combination of colorful blanched vegetables that have been tossed in a light citrus cream and finished with one of the world’s most decadent forms of mozzarella. It’s a celebration of all that is available at our farmers’ markets in one mouthwatering dish that is incredibly easy to prepare and, if done right, is a real scene-stealer.

Market Vegetables with Burrata and Meyer Lemon creamLet the market guide you to the ingredients for this celebration of the season’s freshest vegetables. Let freshness and diverse colors inspire your choices in vegetables! Also, don’t go too heavy on one ingredient and try to pick equal portions.

¾ lb baby carrots (small, fresh and straight from the market), washed and scrubbed
½ lb English snap peas
¼ lb pea tendrils
1 head of cauliflower, stock removed and cut into uniformed florettes
1 small head of purple cauliflower, stock removed and cut into uniformed florettes
¾ lb baby zucchini or baby squash, rinsed well
1 bunch of pencil thin asparagus, cleaned and cut into equal 2-inch pieces.
2 balls of burrata (this California- or Italian-made cream-filled mozzarella is available at specialty cheese stores or Whole Foods’ cheese counter)
Salt (kosher and Maldon) and pepper to taste
2 Meyer lemons (thinly sliced)
Meyer lemon cream (recipe below)
*optional flourishes: flowering chive or fennel fronds

Fill a large pot (preferably a pasta pot with a pasta strainer) with cold water. Add enough kosher salt to give the water a slightly salty taste. Bring water to a rolling boil.

When the water is at a full boil, prepare a large metal mixing bowl with ice water. Fill bowl with ice cubes and just enough water to cover the ice.

In separate batches—one vegetable group at a time–blanch the vegetables. Make sure not to add too many vegetables at one time in order to maintain a rolling boil. Cook the vegetables briefly—1-4 minutes depending—making sure they maintain their structure and become just tender. Feel free to test the cooking time early by sampling a vegetable for taste and texture. When the vegetable is just cooked, immediately remove them from the hot water with strainer and plunge them into ice water bath to stop the cooking process. The ice bath will set the vegetables’ bright color.

Remove vegetables with strainer from the ice water as soon as they are cool to the touch. Put the blanched vegetables on a paper towel-covered sheet tray to dry. Repeat process with all remaining vegetables.

Toss the vegetables with enough Meyer lemon cream to coat everything. Add Meyer lemon slices and toss again. Taste for seasoning. Squeeze more lemon over the salad if necessary. Tear pieces of burrata into the salad and serve immediately.

For the Meyer Lemon Cream
From Suzanne Goin’s Sunday Supper at Lucques

2 tbsp finely diced shallot
¼ cup Meyer lemon juice
½ cup plust 2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
¼ cup plus 1 tbsp heavy cream
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Add the shallot, lemon juice and ¼ teaspoon of salt in a bowl and let sit for 5 minutes. Whisk in olive oil. Then, gently stir in cream, being sure to add a few grinds of pepper to taste.

May 25April 17

Service 101: Waiting tables IS an Honorable Profession

professional waiter — Waiting tables IS an honorable profession

Over the years I’ve gotten a lot of so-when-are-you-going-to-get-a-real-job-attitude for the work that I do in restaurants from friends and acquaintances. I’ve taken that attitude with a grain of salt. But frankly, I’m tired of it.

I do have a real job. I am a professional server.

There’s definitely a misconception in the minds of people outside of the service industry that restaurant work is something that’s easy, good for a fast buck and a vocation for unprofessional types. Though restaurant work is not a 9-to-5 job and doesn’t require the fabrication of cubicles or the purchase of slide projectors, restaurant workers ARE professional.

I’m not sure what it will take to change people’s mind about this…but let me be clear:

There is nothing fast nor easy about restaurants. Restaurant work is mentally challenging and physically exhausting.

When will America’s dining public start treating servers with some respect?

getting bad service getting good service — Waiting tables requires many skills, talents and virtues.

A typical day

It’s Friday afternoon at 2 pm I’m at the ironing board pressing my dress shirt and apron. While I nibble on a late lunch, I scan the pages of three-ring binder filled with food and wine notes for knowledge retention. I listen to a recording I’ve made of myself reading tasting notes on domestic and international wines. I listen to myself describe a California chardonnay so that when a table asks me about that bottle, I already have a sound bite response.

It’s 4pm and my car is parked. I tie my tie before I cross the threshold of the restaurant. A double check of my uniform for any last minute adjustments, and then I give myself a moment for a deep, cleansing breath. It’s time for service.

By 4:30 I’m in a staff meeting where changes in the menu, service issues are discussed, and guest information is shared with the front of house staff. By 6, hundreds of napkins are folded, glasses are polished, and stations are stocked for the flurry of service that is about to hit.

7 p.m. the restaurant begins to fill up. By 8pm service has kicked into high gear. Tables are sat and resat. Orders are taken, menu items described in minute detail. Food is cleared and silverware placed. Dishes are run to the back kitchen for washing. Glasses are refilled and silverware is placed before courses hit the table. Menus are dropped and egos massaged. Checks are tallied, split, cashed out and rung up.

By 9pm–after 5 hours without food or drink—I’m dehydrated. A quick sip of water and I’m back on the floor with smile. Business roars. There’s a problem that needs attention, a table needs clearing, a manager is needed to help fix an error. I push through service like a boxer at a speed bag. My mind races with details. Did I deliver that wine? Check. Did I place that steak knife? Has that entree hit the table? Did I find out what city in France that cheese was from? Check, check, check.

No night is flawless. Something goes wrong. The only thing I can prepare for is my attitude, stamina and mental preparedness. Seven hours have passed since I stepped inside the restaurant. By 11 pm service begins to slow. Full dinner guests lounge in their seats and enjoy another glass of wine. Maybe they’ll have some dessert. Or another after-dinner drink. A back-waiter prepares a double espresso, giving me just enough time to drink a full glass of water and chew a handful of nuts. There’s still a few more hours left of work. I have to keep my energy up. I adjust my tie, tuck my dress shirt into my apron and hit the floor with a smile. There’s another cocktail to deliver, a menu to drop, a table to clear, a story to tell…

By midnight I’ve handed in my cash, tipped my support staff and clocked out. By 1 am I am in my car driving home. I’m starving, craving a glass of wine and wired from a night of speed walking 7,000 square feet several hundred times.

My mind races with the cruel barbs from a guest I artfully dodged, the selfish behavior of a co-worker that made my temper flare, the European tourist that gushed verbal compliments but only left a handful of dollars on a large bill, the joke that had me quietly giggling all night, the fiscally generous guest, the out of sorts guest that went out of their way to be rude and the sweet guest that went out of their way to be kind.

Every night is different. But every night ends the same way–with my head spinning from the millions of tasks and service issues. If I’m lucky there’s a glass of wine in my hand by the end of it all.

It’s true, there are other things I would rather do on a Friday night with my time. I’d love to write full time and have my nights free. But the fact remains that as an artist there are other things I have to do to pay my bills. And I love restaurants, the food culture and the people that work doggedly day and night to put food on the table. There shouldn’t be any shame in saying I’m a server at a restaurant.

Yes, I work in the service industry. Yes, I’m a writer AND a restaurant professional. And I take my job seriously. Very seriously. I’m a professional. Respect what I do.

Food Blog News Weekly Round Up: May 19

A weekly round up of some of the week’s top national and Los Angeles-based food blogging news…

–The Federal Trade Commission is planning to require bloggers’ full disclosure of receiving freebies. Douglas MacMillan staff writer for BusinessWeek writes,

“The world’s more ambitious bloggers like to call themselves ‘citizen journalists.’ The government is trying to make sure these heralds don’t turn into citizen advertisers.”

–The New York Times introduces a new large format photo/video blog called The Lens. A visual coffee break.

–Frank Bruni, long time restaurant food critic of the New York Times leaves his weekly dining column to become a “writer-at-large” on the staff of The New York Times Sunday Magazine. Bruni writes a heartfelt letter goodbye while the food-intelligentsia are betting who will replace him.

–After much anticipation (and peering into paper covered windows and months of construction), The Farmer’s Kitchen–run by the nonprofit group, Sustainable Economic Enterprises of Los Angeles, that also runs the Hollywood Farmers’ Market–opened this weekend in Hollywood.

The Kitchen’s hours are still a work in progress, but are expected to be open on Sundays from 7:30 am until 2 pm and Tuesday through Thursday 11:30 am until 3 pm

–If you live in LA and are looking for something to do (before you die) LA Food blogger Caroline on Crack gives her bucket list of things to eat and do in LA.

May 18

Salted Plum Haamonii Shochu Cocktail Recipe

It takes a masterful preparation of an ingredient to make a person forget their aversions. Just ask any mom how they get their kids to eat Brussels sprouts or how a great chef can make a fearful diner order the calf’s brain ravioli and they’ll be sure to tell you the answer: technique.

Why individuals steer clear of specific ingredients are varied—some object to texture, flavor, scent, sense memories, allergies and sometimes even ethical issues come into play. As a voracious eater, there are few things I avoid. The smell of truffle oil makes my skin crawl. Sadly, I’m allergic to blue cheese. Say the word soju and my brain reflexively throbs with the memory of a two-day hangover that I almost didn’t recover from.

So when I tell you that I recently created a delicious cocktail for a delightful new artisan shochu (the Japanese version of soju), I offer positive proof that great technique really can reshape a culinary opinion.

How I came to try Haamonii Shochu

Had it not been for the fact that my husband came home with two free sample bottles of Haamonii Shochu (pronounced show-chew), I probably would have never tried the Japanese beverage. But thanks to Hans’ eager assurances that Haamonii Shochu was nothing like the cheap plonk that ruined me one night a long time ago, I got up the courage to ignore my aversion to soju and try something special.

Tasting Haamonii Shochu

I poured myself a tiny splash of the Haamonii Shochu and edged my nose over the glass. I was surprised by the delicate floral and citrus notes of the Haamonii. Based on my previous experience with soju, I never expected to smell fresh citrus blossoms and sweet rice. My curiosity was peaked enough to ignore my jaded past with shochu’s Korean cousin and take a taste.

Once past my hesitant lips, the Lemon Haamonii Shochu offered a hint of sweetness and a kiss of citrus. The shochu was sophisticated and clean and didn’t offer hard alcohol’s harsh heat. Within moments of enjoying the nuanced flavors of the shochu, I was dreaming up cocktails.

Shochu Convert

Crafted by San Francisco-based James Key Lim and his wife, the artisan shochu makers set out to create an ultra-premium shochu that was low in alcohol and smooth in taste. The result is America’s first award winning shochu, an elegant, 22 percent alcohol drink that is made with purified water and a blend of grains that can be enjoyed on its own or mixed. According to James Key Lim, Haamonii is “four column distilled” and triple filtered for extra purity.

Called soju in Korea and shochu in Japan, this clear spirit is one of the most popular distilled spirits in the world–enjoyed straight, on the rocks, mixed with hot or cold water, tea, or in mixed drinks. Shochu is traditionally made from grains (rice and barley) and starches (such as potatoes). In addition to its smooth flavor and versatility, shochu possesses another great virtue; it is low in calories.

I visited an event celebrating a Japanese shoe designer Hiromi Tatsuta that offered guests Haamonii Citrus mixed with green tea or apple juice and handmade sushi rolls from San Shi Go. Usually a fan of Japanese sake with my sushi, I was impressed by the delicate nature of the shochu and how it paired well with the raw fish and sweet sushi rice. Like sushi, the well-made shochu was refreshing and didn’t weigh down my palate with aggressive flavors. Unlike a mixed drink, the shochu didn’t deaden my tastebuds with numbing alcohol.

With my recent conversion to shochu at the forefront brain, I visited the Hollywood Farmers market. Spring citrus, cherries and stone fruits peaked my interest as possible ingredients for my home’s larder. But it was a bunch of lemon verbena and tart and crunchy sour plums that made me want to create a cocktail for the Lemon Haamonii shochu waiting for me back home.

The gentle acidity of the sour plums and refreshing perfume of the lemon verbena do not overpower the delicate sweetness and aromatics of the lemon shochu. The spicy salted rim on the glass is just the kick the drink needs to have you tapping your toes with happiness.

[print_link]
Salted Plum Shochu Cocktail
Makes one drink

Kosher salt and cayenne pepper mixture (4 tbsp kosher salt to 1/4 tsp cayenne pepper)
2 lemon verbena leaves (one for muddling, one for garnish)
4 small sour plums (sliced and without seeds)
1 oz fresh lemon juice
1 lemon wedge
1 tsp simple syrup
3 oz lemon (or regular) Haamonii Shochu
ice

Place the kosher salt/cayenne pepper mixture on a plate. Wipe the outer edge of the cocktail glass with the juicy side of the lemon wedge. Run the wet edge of the glass in the spicy salt to create an even rim.

Muddle a single verbena leaf in a clean cocktail shaker. Add the sliced sour plums and continue muddling until most of the fruit’s juice is released into the glass. Add simple syrup, shochu and fill shaker with ice. Shake well. Add mixed cocktail to salt-rimmed glass. Top with fresh verbena. Serve immediately.

Where to find Haamonii

If you want to try Haamonii Shochu currently is available on line at K&L for $29.99 and at dandm.com. Also available at some restaurants and bars.

May 5

Food Blog Ethics: a personal manifesto that went viral

To be honest, Leah and I had no idea what we would be getting ourselves into when we wrote our manifesto. We had no idea just how many people were going to read this thing.

Monday of last week I called my friend Leah of Spicy Salty Sweet to suggest we write a post about food blogging ethics. The subject was at the forefront of my mind after weeks of heated discussions with fellow food bloggers across the state. Leah and I got up early on Tuesday and met for breakfast to discuss the topic. When the plates were cleared from the table of our local breakfast joint, we had written down five major points of what we thought our blogs should stand for. When we finished we looked at the scribbled page and saw it for what it was: a manifesto.

Like Jerry Maguire in the opening scene of the Cameron Crowe film of the same name, I was excited by the sharing this food blogging mission statement. I wanted to share this co-authored document but I didn’t know what would be the best format. Post simultaneously on our separate blogs? Share the same post title?

Before I left for work that night I called some sage food bloggers for advice. I asked how they would recommend two independent food bloggers simultaneously weigh in on the same subject.

“Maybe you should start a separate blog together,” one blogger suggested.

By Wednesday—between our jobs and maintaining our blogs–Leah and I had fleshed out our five-point manifesto (it reminded me of the code created by a handful of pragmatic, Danish filmmakers). We looked for a title for our document. We wanted a name that was obvious and easy to find in a Google search if someone happened to be looking for such a topic. We decided on The Food Blog Code of Ethics.

We posted the blog for the first time on Thursday afternoon, before I went to work. A Twitter-inspired discussion started and many bloggers began re-tweeting about The Code. While I was busy waiting tables, people all over the Internet started arguing about the responsibility and freedoms of online publishers. By the time I got home at 2 AM, more than a thousand people had visited our site. Comments poured in. Many asked to join. Some said they were interested by the discussion. Others were angry and fearful at the words we had just posted.

Overheard on the street

The online discussions had gotten so loud that someone at The New York Times overheard. By Friday morning, I awoke to a phone call from Leah. I slept through the first call. The second one got me from bed.

“We’re in the New York Times!” she screamed.

In less than 48 hours—thanks to the power of the Internet and Twitter–The Food Blog Code of Ethics went from a personal statement of two people to a nationally distributed document.

It’s been less than a week and already our lives have been changed by the publication of document. We have been given the opportunity to discuss the politics of blogging with people we have never met before. We are engaging with others on these electronic pages and responding to our supporters and detractors. We are facing personal attacks and vitriolic remarks while we encourage discussion. We are taking part in a fast paced discussion about accountability, civility and fairness.

Though our code was written for ourselves (and for anyone else that shared our views on the need for personal accountability in the food blogging world) the fact remains that this document went viral. Within hours our personal statement became Something Bigger. This experience only highlights the need to understand just how powerful the Internet can be to make a personal statement a public document.

A few days ago we were two people talking ethics. A few days later we were an organization against freedom.

This is not what we are.

We are two people making statement that we personally believe in. For us personal accountability and truth in self-publishing is an important credo that we feel strongly enough about to express to others that are willing to listen. Personal accountability is a choice. Not everyone believes in accountability or a personal code of conduct. In the US, there are no laws that insist we have “good manners” or even etiquette for that matter. No one is going to get in trouble for cutting someone in line, skipping church or being rude to a bank teller. But I do hold myself to a higher code of ethic and personal accountability. That’s my choice and I’m not telling any one to do things my way. I do, however, feel the need to express what I believe in. If you don’t agree with me, don’t read it, and for goodness sakes, don’t feel any pressure to do it! .

In the discussion of free speech, it’s been interesting to hear people raise a fist against to the notion of personal accountability and self-imposed standards while at the same time those very same people are calling for us to shut up, rescind our statements, delete the Food Ethics Blog and go away. As US citizens, we are lucky to have the right to freedom of speech. It applies to all of us, regardless if we agree with one another.

Please know that we, the original authors of the code, are just two individuals that came together to write a document that defined the values we believe in. There will be no charges to be part of us, no branding of those blogs that are “good” or “bad”. There is no master scheme here. We just wanted to stand up and say what we believe in.

April 30March 14

Food Blogger Code of Ethics

Say the words “I’m a food blogger” in some circles and you may find eyes twinkle in appreciation. Say those same words in other circles (in a restaurant for example) and you may find yourself being asked to kindly leave.

As a food writer, restaurant professional and blogger, I travel within many different circles of people. Unfortunately within the restaurant community, food blogger is a derogatory term used to describe everyone from the angry Yelper to the thoughtful on-line food memoirist. Lately, I’ve found it more and more difficult to discuss my blog without giving some kind of footnoted explanation of What-Kind-of-Food-Blogger I am.

There’s room for all of us in the food blogging world. Thre’s room for the food gossips, recipe developers, food photographers and stylists, cultural commentators, gourmet media sites, culinary storytellers, recipe memoirists, chef groupies, restaurant reviewers, food obsessives and everything in between. But for better or for worse, in the new world of food blogging, anything goes.

A lot has changed since the handful of groundbreaking blogs (Orangette, Amateur Gourmet, Waiter Rant) first hit the Internet. Now there are hundreds of websites dedicated to offering opinionated food lovers a place to share their judgments on food related topics. There are even more sites dedicated to food porn, recipe swapping, restaurant reviews and restaurant gossip. The blog world is expanding exponentially, and with all this exciting growth, has come a wave of differing styles, talent and professionalism.

I take my blog writing very seriously. Too seriously sometimes. Recently, as I approached the opening day of the new restaurant I’m working at I started to think about all the food bloggers that would be descending on the fledgling restaurant. How would these food bloggers write about the restaurant? Would they be fair? Would they offer a first impression or would they write a post and call it a full review after only one visit?

These questions got me thinking…Why shouldn’t bloggers hold themselves to the same kind of guidelines as restaurant reviewers? Why aren’t more bloggers concerned about full disclosure, accountability, good research and standing behind their words?

The Food Blog Code of Ethics

In order to define myself as a food blogger, my friend and writing partner Leah Greenstein of Spicy Salty Sweet decided to create a food blogger manifesto. We call it the The Food Blog Code of Ethics.

We felt it was important to us to define what our ethical standards are and hold ourselves to that higher code because there are many food bloggers that offer judgment without full disclosure and due diligence. The Code is not meant to be a mandatory thing for everyone in the blogosphere. This is our way to define what our standards are.

Please take a moment to swing by our website. Read through our pages. Tells us what you think. And if you feel like you hold yourself up to these kinds of standards in food blogging, join us!

April 24January 3

Behind the Scenes at the Pebble Beach Food and Wine Festival

Ok. Let me tell you what really happened at the Pebble Beach Food and Wine Festival.

I got a one day pass to the final day of the Food and Wine Festival from my friends at Foodbuzz. I was having a hard time justifying the cost of flying or driving up until I found out Nancy and the chefs of Mozza would be cooking at the Pebble Beach Festival and they were feeling short handed. Having the chance to spend time in the kitchen with my culinary hero Nancy Silverton was the deal breaker. I had to go.

If you’re lucky enough to have a conversation with Nancy Silverton at the end of a shift and she happens to mention that she’s going to be at the same food event as you and she casually suggests that maybe you should swing by and “help out in the kitchen”, then you sure as hell better take full advantage of the invitation and show up. Early.

Getting There

Which is how I ended up in my Volkswagon at 6 AM, happily speeding north for six hours until I reached Pebble Beach. Because, despite the fact that I have worked for Nancy for almost three years as a server, I have never had the opportunity to spend any significant time with her in the kitchen.

As far as I’m concerned—despite my years of service to great chefs—there has always been a certain line drawn between me and the men and women in chef’s whites. Because even if you’re in a great chef’s restaurant on a daily basis, the only way to truly know and understand a chef, you have to work with them in the kitchen.

Finding my way to the kitchen

After several wrong turns and an unnecessary tour of downtown Carmel, I arrived at Pebble Beach some time around noon. I parked my car at my friend’s hotel, rolled on an extra layer of anti-perspirant, threw on my Dansko clogs and grabbed my camera. Minutes later I was in a shuttle headed to the Inn at Spanish Bay where the Pebble Beach Food and Wine Festival was headquartered.

Past the grand brass doors of the Inn at Spanish Bay, I found Nancy’s boyfriend Michael (a talented crime writer) lounging on a couch with Robert Oaks of Boulevard Restaurant.

Michael greeted me with his sly, sideways smile and introduced me to Oaks. My oddly syncopated banter with the larger than life Mr. Oaks gave away my nervousness.

“Want me to show you where Nancy and the girls are down in the kitchen?” Michael said as he ushered me away from Mr. Oaks.

“Come on,” he said with an almost East coast accent. “Let me show you where they at.”

Underneath the Inn

Behind the Employee’s Only entrance and two floors below the Inn’s main floor, was a labyrinth of pastel linoleum tiles that led my eye past kitchen prep stations, storage rooms and employee dining halls. We took a hard left past the speed racks and the metal storage shelves and walked into the sweet, chocolaty air of the pastry kitchen.

Like a child amazed to see her favorite cartoon characters cavorting together on screen—I was startled to see the familiar faces of my friends in the foreign kitchen. Newlywed and hard working pastry chef of Mozza, Dahlia Navarez, oversaw chocolate dipping as Katie Brucker, Nancy’s tireless Publicist and PR person for La Brea Bakery, Katie shook excess chocolate off a pyramid of dipped candied almonds.

Their day in the kitchen started at 6 AM, the same time I was pouring coffee down my gullet and speeding north. Dressed in chef’s whites speckled with dark chocolate, Dahlia rolled her eyes. “We don’t serve dessert until 10:30 PM.” I checked my watch. It was 1:30 PM.

I spotted Nancy–elegant in her European blue apron and corkscrew curls pulled up into a flowing bunch at the top of her head—orchestrating chocolate production in a side prep room. Amongst the speed racks stacked with sheet trays of perfectly formed candies, was Nancy. She looked downright exuberant as she sprinkled pistachios onto chocolate covered honeycomb.

Watching her work was a revelation. Nancy’s way in the kitchen was so efficient and so gentle, it’s almost as if she wasn’t exerting any effort. Unlike many chefs of her caliber, her effortless grace feels like a soft breeze, rather than a turbulent storm in the kitchen.

Where most chefs are gruff, Nancy is soft spoken. Where most chefs would rather talk oven temperatures and seasonings, Nancy never fails to say a brief something to the people around her that lets them know she cares.

“Hello, Brooke,” Nancy said with an impish grin. “How was your drive?”

TO WORK

Like any mundane prep work, the actual task—peeling potatoes, removing pin bones from a fish, placing hash marks onto a chocolate cake–may not seem like an important effort in the greater drama that will unfold during service, but it is an absolute necessity for the success of the final dish. In tandem with all the other mundane jobs, prep work adds up to the final something that matters.

I say this because the tasks I was given weren’t difficult.

With the giddiness of a girl scout on her way to earn her first badge, I melted chocolate over a water bath. I dipped candied honeycomb into chocolate. And with a dizzy head from no food, drink or coffee for that matter, I scored sheets of chocolate cake with three-inch marks so that a much more talented person than me could cut perfect triangle slices for individual servings.

After several hours of slow and quiet work with sweets, a walkie-talkie crackled with the news that the Michelin Starred Chefs Dinner (LA vs SF) had begun. It was 7PM and it was time to wrap everything up and bring our ingredients to the staging area for plating.

My stomach flipped with excitement as Dahlia (or “Dolly” as Nancy calls her), protected her day’s bounty—three hundred and thirty desserts’ worth of chocolates—with a tight and continuous sheet of plastic wrap. Volunteer pastry chefs pushed Nancy’s chocolate laden speed racks onto elevators bound for the main floor, while Nancy, Dahlia, Katie and I stepped into the employee changing room to freshen up before plating began.

Nancy buffed her shoes and reapplied a cherry red lipstick. Dahlia put on a crisp white chef’s coat. Katie checked her makeup in the mirror. I snapped pictures, trying to cover the fact that my nerves had really started to notch their way up as I calculated the hours before our 10:30 dessert plating time. With more than three hours of work ahead of us and no coffee or food around for consumption, I knew I would have to pace myself.

Staging room

As Nancy and the pastry crew arrived at the staging room, Los Angeles chef Michael Cimarusti of Providence Restaurant was finishing the final plating of his appetizer course. Sous chef’s wiped plates and dropped cilantro flowers onto shot glasses filled with a cauliflower panna cotta and tongues of pink uni. White gloved servers in black polyester tuxedos zipped by carrying pristine white plates of decorated fish.

As the final plate was taken, Cimarusti looked up from his work and breathed an audible sigh of relief. We applauded the three hundred-plate effort as Cimarusti and Nancy greeted each other.

“Good luck, Chef”

The plating of the dessert was slow. One piece of dense, flourless chocolate cake has a way of smudging white plates that is just about as difficult to remove as blood from a white tee shirt. Slowly, with a curled up damp napkin, I wiped away every chocolate blemish from the white plates until each and every plate looked ready for a food magazine close up.

As the time edged closer to 10 PM my nervousness only increased. There were still more than a hundred plates to wipe and yet three more elements to be added to complete Nancy’s dessert. My shoulders tightened and my back ached as I looked up from wiping a plate. There, across the room, was an un-mussed Nancy, smiling at me. She was nonchalantly sipping a glass of red wine like she didn’t have a care in the world.

“Aren’t you nervous?” I said as my plate wiping got me closer to Nancy. “Nervous?” she smiled. “Of what? We have plenty of time!”

I looked around the room one last time. With less than ten minutes before the final course would be finished and still we needed to run down to the prep kitchen to retrieve the hot fudge from the warm water bath they were in.

Clearly, finishing more than three hundred desserts in ten minutes was nothing to this woman.

The service manager, a tall man in a razor sharp suit, entered the room with his walkie-talkie crackling. “Dinner is complete. We’re clearing for dessert.” The service manager called out the announcement I had been waiting to hear all day. “That’s a go for dessert!”

What happened next was one of the most beautiful things I’ve seen in a dining room.

Some people love going to the ballet. Others enjoy a great pass on the football field. But for me, one of my biggest enjoyments is to see great service in a restaurant. I watch with wide-eyed appreciation as a bartender mixes a perfect hand-made cocktail or a server floats through her busy section with grace or a chef creates a single plate masterpiece amid the chaos of service. Just like any great sport or physical feat, great service is an art form.

Within seconds, the dining room was a blur with white chefs coats. Squeeze bottles filled with warm hot fudge was dribbled onto plates and gold leafed almonds were placed on cakes. Cimarusti and his sous chefs appeared from god-knows-where and joined the pastry brigade to put together the final elements of Nancy’s dessert. My heart pounded with excitement and utter amazement. How was it that everyone knew what to do? How ever did Katie Brucker notice the missing nougat on that one odd plate amidst hundreds? Where did Nancy find the serenity to offer guidance to the unfamiliar chefs and volunteers around her without ever raising her voice?

As the swirl of activity ebbed, a sense of relief spread through the staging area. Chefs patted each other on the back, clinked wine glasses and beer bottles and smiled. They had done it. The dinner was complete.

The staging area quickly filled with exhausted Michelin starred chefs–David Myers of Sona Restaurant, Josia Citrin of Mélisse, Michael Cimarusti and others—joined together with their sous chefs to congratulate each other on a job well done.

And, for the first time in more than a decade of service, I could say that WE had done it. I was lucky enough to have been part of that amazing brigade.

April 21January 4

Pebble Beach Food and Wine Festival

Rock concert vs. Food and Wine Festival

Spring marks the beginning of warmer weather and outdoor festivals. For music fans there are rock concerts. For foodies there are food festivals. Outdoor events have a way of amplifying excitement and making people giddy with anticipation. So whether you raise your iPhone to snap a picture of your favorite chef or hoist it above your head to show appreciation for a rock power ballad (lighters are passé), the excited feeling is surprisingly similar.

Thanks to my friends at Foodbuzz.com, I was given a ticket to enjoy a day at the Pebble Beach Food And Wine Festival. The lush green hills, azure blue ocean and crashing waves of Pebble Beach elevated my senses even before I stepped foot into the festival’s grand tasting tent.

With my free pass around my neck, I was able to witness twenty of the country’s top chefs preparing samples of their world famous dishes, sample their food and taste some of the 200 featured wine makers from around the world. There were familiar LA chefs in attendance, like the always elegant and supremely talented Nancy Silverton of La Brea Bakery and Mozza; the fish whisperer Michael Cimarusti of Providence Restaurant; Josiah Citrin of Mélisse Restaurant; and David Myers of Sona, Comme Ca and Pizzeria Ortica. Standing nearby were San Francisco and NY chefs I’ve read about and admired on TV but have never had the pleasure sample their food first hand.

Chef Nancy Oaks and her kobe beef on potato square

Josia Citrin and his juicy and sweet Liberty Duck, skewered with candied kumquat

Michael Cimarusti with his mind-blowing slow cooked salmon with fish skin chicharron. My vote for best savory bite of the day.

Pastry Chef Sherry Yard and her beignet, the tasting tent’s most sought after dessert. Light, fluffy and full of flavor.

There were plenty of chefs in attendance that I’ve read about and never had the good fortune to meet. But thanks to my pass at the Grand Tasting Tent I was able to meet Traci Des Jardins as she plated delicious food. Nearby I spotted Iron Chef contestant Jamie Lauren as she gushed about meeting Cat Cora for the first time. Chef and occasional butcher Chris Cosentino wowed guests with his charm and sample dishes.

Traci Des Jardins

Top Chef contestant Jamie Lauren

Chris Cosentino

Across the way I met down to earth wine makers like Guy Davis the Founder/Farmer/Winemaker of Davis Family Vineyards. Davis, and other winemakers like him, patiently described his wine making process and the commitment to growing grapes and crafting a handful of incredible wines.

Guy Davis, winemaker of Davis Family Vineyards

I had the pleasure of meeting pastry chef Gina DePalma, Mario Batali’s number one pastry chef, for dinner and sharing a passionate discussion about service and the new generation of foodies. It was an incredible event that left my stomach full and my mind buzzing with new ideas and flavors. I walked away from the festival feeling like I got a behind the scenes pass to a show I’ve seen more than a handful of times. Being at the Food and Wine Festival gave me a behind the curtains perspective that can only be earned by years of restaurant service.

I’m lucky. I’ve paid my dues at restaurants with great chefs. But even for a restaurant industry professional like me that has dedicated years of service for James Beard winners and Michelin starred chefs—I found myself getting serious goose bumps when I found myself standing next to a few favorite chefs at the Pebble Beach Food and Wine Festival.

I may have gotten butterflies in my stomach when I saw Bruce Springsteen in concert last week, but I was downright roller coaster giddy when I snapped a picture of Jacques Pépin at the Pebble Beach Food And Wine Festival.

There’s nothing more exhilarating for a music fan than the moment when the spotlight cuts through the dark to reveal a beloved rock-and-roll star on stage. But for food-obsessed peple like me, the Pebble Beach Food and Wine Festival offered that once in a lifetime moment where every day people are able to spend time with beloved chefs, artisan food makers and passionate wine makers.

For anyone that’s never worked in a restaurant or have never had the chance to be near a great chef at work, the Pebble Beach Food and Wine Festival is an amazing opportunity to see chefs doing what they do best–outside of their kitchens.

April 20November 14

Pebble Beach Food And Wine: notes from the road

Nancy Silverton’s mind blowing chocolate dessert at the Pebble Beach Food and Wine Festival

Wow. What an incredible 48 hours. Thanks to the generosity of Foodbuzz and my friends at Pizzeria Mozza, La Brea Bakery and the Pebble Beach Food and Wine Festival, I just experienced two full days of award winning dishes, hand crafted wines, restaurant industry gossip and culinary insights. Not to mention numerous chef-star spottings.

After 6 hours of driving south from Pebble Beach, my head is swimming with details to share with you. But unfortunately, I’m sticky (it’s 90 plus degrees here in Southern California), road weary and delirious and can’t quite muster a focused post.

Nancy Silverton plates dessert at the LA vs SF Michelin Starred restaurant dinner

Forgive the delay for a much needed shower, sleep and a home cooked meal…But I just had to share with you a just a handful of pictures. More details, stories and photos to come soon!

Jacques Pepin in the house!

The Beautiful Michelle Bernstein

April 17January 4

Think Like A Chef: Quinn Hatfield

I’m lucky to have chefs for friends. It’s one of my most favorite benefits of working in the restaurant business. Not only are professional cooks really entertaining to hang out with* they also are invaluable resources when it comes to anything culinary. And, if you ask nicely and aren’t afraid to embarrass yourself, chefs have lots of great insights on cooking techniques, recipes and how to improve your performance in your home kitchen.

Chef Technique

In order to cook like a chef you have to think like one. In a professional kitchen, cooking isn’t done on a whim. Everything is thought out in advance and prep–small tasks like shelling beans, peeling potatoes and making stock–is done before the first diner ever walks through the restaurant’s front door. The chaos of a busy kitchen is powerful enough to ruin any chef–regardless of their training and stature–if they haven’t properly organized, planned and maintained great technique.

Thanks to several recent off-the-clock visits with the chefs of Hatfield’s restaurant, I’ve been able to pick up a lot of great ideas I frequently use at home. Beyond learning about the best inexpensive kitchen tools, I’ve also been able to pick up some key cooking techniques. The following recipe is a great example of how learning an invaluable and time-tested cooking technique can make cooking at home so much easier.

Thanks to the generous guidance of my Michelin starred chef friend, Quinn Hatfield, I now am pretty certain how he makes Alaskan halibut taste so good. This recipe is a slightly modified version of a dish I recently tasted Hatfield’s.

Alaskan Halibut can be sublimely sophisticated when good planning, preparation and technique are employed. Advanced prep is the key to creating this elegant entree without ever breaking a sweat.

Before you start, read the recipe through from beginning to end

Rather than cook as you go, think about meal preparation as a two part process: prep and then cooking. Preparing dish elements in advance is an adjustment, but with all the chopping and complicated busy work taken care of in advance, there’s a lot less stress in the kitchen at dinner hour.

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Crusted Alaskan Halibut with Shrimp Mousseline and Spring Vegetables**
Makes 4For the fish:
4-6 oz. halibut fillets with skin removed (Check for pin bones. Remove with tweezers, if necessary)
1 small loaf of brioche (to be frozen in advance of prep)
shrimp mousseline (see ingredient list below)
parsley butter (see ingredient list below)
Maldon sea salt

for shrimp mousseline
8 medium to large shrimp, with shells removed and de-veined
¼ cup heavy cream
1 small clove of garlic

for parsley butter
6 tbsp of butter, room temperature
¼ (heaping) cup of parsley leaves (removed from stem)
1 small clove of garlic
salt and pepper

Spring vegetables
3/4 lb of mixed spring vegetables (baby carrots, baby zucchini, baby pattipan squash)
6 sprigs of thyme
4 tbsp butter or olive oil
salt and pepper
Maldon sea salt

Tools needed: metal cake tester, wax paper, pastry brush, steamer, mini-Cuisinart (or blender), mandoline (inexpensive plastic version can be found at Asian markets or at cooking stores like this.

Mise-en-place (can be done several hours in advance):

Cut brioche in half. Freeze the bottom half and save the rest for another use. When the bread is completely frozen, remove the crust and slice the bread into rectangular strips that mirror the shape of the fish fillets. Keep in mind you will only need to slice enough bread to create a single layered “crust” for each fillet. Slices should be no thicker than 1/8th of an inch. Line a sheet tray with a sheet of wax paper then add the brioche in a single layer. Cover with clear plastic and refrigerate.

To make the mousseline:
Place the cleaned shrimp, cream and garlic in the bowl of a mini Cuisinart. Purée until mixture is thick like a paste. Remove from bowl with a spatula and refrigerate in a covered container.

To make the parsley butter
Clean the Cuisinart’s bowl. Add butter, picked parsley leaves and garlic. Purée until smooth. Temper the butter over a low heat in a small saucepan or non-stick pan. When tempered, remove the brioche slices from the refrigerator. Spread parsley butter onto one side of bread. Flip the bread (butter side down) on the wax paper. Save remaining scallion butter for bruschetta or buttering bread.

Fish prep:

Spread a thin layer of mousse on the fish with the back of a spoon. When finished, salt and pepper both sides of the fish. Using the shrimp purée as a sort of glue, flip the fish (mousseline side down) onto the unbuttered side of the brioche bread.Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate until ready.

45 minutes before serving time:

Remove sheet tray with prepped fish. Carefully flip the fish so that the wax paper is top side up. Cut around the wax paper so that each fish has wax paper covering its bread crust.

Add several inches worth of water to a pasta/vegetable steamer. When steamer has begun producing steam add the prepared fish, keeping the covered crust facing up. Do not crowd the fish. Crack the lid with a spoon, making sure the lid is tilted at an angle—otherwise the condensation will make the bread soggy.

Let the fish steam for 20 minutes. Carefully remove one piece of fish with a spatula. Using the cake tester to check the done-ness of the fish, insert the thin metal pick into the fish horizontally so that the tester hits each of the fish’s internal segments. If you feel the ping-ping-ping of the connective tissue, the fish will need more time to cook. Return to steamer. When the cooking is complete, the connective tissue will be buttery smooth and can not be perceived by the cake tester method.

Meanwhile, heat a small sauté pan over a medium heat. Add butter and, when melted, add the spring vegetables (if cooking carrots, add first before softer vegetables). Sauté until just soft. Add a sprinkling of thyme, salt and pepper. Taste and adjust for seasoning and cooking temperature. Remove vegetables.

When fish is finished steaming, add a generous tablespoon of butter to the warm sauté pan. When the butter has melted, carefully add one or two of the fish fillets (breading side down) to the pan. The point here is to quickly brown the bread, no more than 30 seconds to a minute. Carefully remove the fish and place on a warmed plate. Repeat with the other two fillets.

Spoon vegetables on the side of the warmed plates. Sprinkle the fish with Maldon sea salt and serve.

Should you decide to host a dinner party and skip going out for dinner altogether (despite the fact that there are plenty of restaurants out there willing to slash prices to get you in the door), this Alaskan Halibut is an excellent choice for maintaining calm in the kitchen as your guests arrive.

*Chefs are like pirates: they like danger, work odd hours, enjoy free time with an undeniable vigor, have fascinating stories to share and fire and sharp steel are their friends.

**This photo shows this dish made with Fregola sarda (a round pasta that resembles cous cous). I chose not to include prep for the pasta so as not to overwhelm!

Author: Food Woolf