Food Woolf – Page 16

There’s a chance, an itty-bitty chance, that someone near and dear to me might be moving to Paris. Considering that we already live half a world away from each other, it still makes seeing each other more challenging but…

My god. Paris?

I cross my fingers and pray to the gods every day while we wait for the news…

from David Lebovitz

from Meanest Indian

Surely I could muster a trip to Paris. I can start saving now.

In the meantime, I dream of long walks through the arrondissements, “licking the windows” of the boulangeries, eating warm pain chocolate or pain raisin, craving ownership of all the beautiful and polished shoes of the French women, re-learning that beautiful language, shopping at the open markets and sipping a cafe au lait at a cafe. I dream of a baguette, a wedge of cheese, a bottle of wine and that Paris SMELL.

I long to be embedded in the world of the French again.

from David Lebovitz

In the meantime, I’ll admire the view.

from rsepulveda

from funadium

from roboppy

I hope they don’t mind I plan to stay a while…

from roboppy

from David Lebovitz

(thanks to David Lebovitz and other Flickr photographers!)

October 3November 14

You know things are bad when…

–you need to hire a beautiful woman to dress up in a Kimono and point customers towards your restaurant’s entrance.

Note to Kado restaurant: the problem is the restaurant, not the location. We know you’re there, the problem is how bad the service and the food is.

Last time I visited Kado restaurant (read: got up the courage to try sushi at the mall), we were horrified at how bad things were once we got upstairs. Both the sushi bar and the dining room were empty–leading us fearful guests to think the obvious question: how fresh could the fish at this place be if no one is dining here?

After a few minutes of waiting to be greeted, we had to seek someone out to seat us, ask someone else for menus and then, after more than 15 minutes without ever being greeted, we left. Actually, fled. We feared things could only get worse (read: get food poisoning).

The trick to getting customers to try your restaurant and come back, Kado, is to make great food and give great service. And please, let that poor girl do something other than point.

September 24November 14

EcoGastronomy Major offered at UNH

Attention young taste makers: if you’re thinking about first semester plans at college (or hoping to transfer) you might be interested to know that the University of New Hampshire has launched a ground breaking EcoGastronomy Program.

The University of New Hampshire hopes to offer students an integrated approach to ecological education by taking students into the field, in the kitchen, in the lab and as far away as Italy to study the complexities of sustainable food systems.

As a dual major, EcoGastronomy will be taken alongside a declared primary major. The program is a partnership of UNH’s College of Life Sciences and Agriculture and Whittemore School of Business and Economics. In collaboration with the University Office of Sustainability, students will take an integrated approach to their education by complementing their primary major with a combination of hands on learning, practical skills training and international study opportunities.

Inspired by a visit from Slow Food creator, Carlo Petrini in 2006, The University of New Hampshire’s EcoGastronomy Program was created. After Petrini receiving an honorary degree from the University, faculty and staff from the University and the Office of Sustainability came together to develop the core curriculum and plan of study for this new degree.

“We are seeing a growing student interest in food and sustainability and an eagerness to understand and connect with the local, regional and global food system,” says Joanne Curran-Celentano, professor of nutritional sciences at UNH and a faculty founder. “EcoGastronomy is designed to engage students in this deeper meaning of eating and to position them to become informed food citizens.”

September 23November 14

Eating our way back to Normal

Metropolitan Cook Book, originally uploaded by Paula Wirth.

What happens when the world goes topsy-turvy? The shaken up inhabitants create structure where there is chaos and hominess where there is no permanence. A flood sweeps away a home and the survivor painstakingly stacks chipped mixing bowls and dishes in a pile. The stock market crashes and the Wall Street trader eats a baloney sandwich on Wonder bread because it reminds him of lunches with his mother.

For the underpaid, stressed out, unemployed, politically freaked out and fearful men and women of cities all across America, food is the easiest way to calm the F**** down.

NY Magazine reports that even though mammoth casual restaurant chains can do nothing but lose money right now, comfort food brands like Kraft Macaroni and cheese and Oscar Meyer cold cuts are “on fire”. For the first time in decades, powdered cheese on macaroni and baloney sandwich with mustard looks really, really good.

My neighborhood is better than your neighborhood

In the wake of economic uncertainty, people all over the country are suddenly filled with civic pride. Over night, foodies all over the country are clambering to define their city’s specific contribution to the national food scene. Recently, in front of a standing room only crowd in a Los Angeles auditorium, a respected panel that included Pulitzer Prize winning food writer Jonathan Gold and a handful of well-respected LA chefs, spent an evening talking through the defining terms of what constituted a Los Angeles dining scene.

On the opposite coast, NY Times food critic Frank Bruni and food bloggers ignored deadlines and spent precious time to define what was, in particular, the “New Brooklyn Cuisine”. For the fiscally uncertain and totally devoted NY foodie, that’s NBC, for short.

To qualify as the NBC, a restaurant should have “culinary sophistication melded with a wistfully agrarian passion for the artisanal, the sustainably grown, and the homespun…” something new restaurants all over our country currently share. And, following the NBC definition of clientele, people “who quote Michael Pollan and split shares in the local CSA,” I can only imagine that perhaps food loving people all over this country are craving the simple and the basic because they crave something simply NORMAL.

By embracing the back to basics ideas of artisinal and sustainable farming, we hope to eat our way back to better times.

September 22

Naked Pie

Skip the step of making a dough and get right down to the best part of eating apple pie: devouring the inside! Caramelized apples, spice, sweetness and a hint of salt comes together in this fast and easy dessert.

If you shy away from making pastries, this is a great dessert that can wow even the toughest critics. This recipe won me a perfect taste score with the Food Buzz 24×24 Iron Chef judges.

Naked Pie: Caramelized apples with Calvados and vanilla Ice cream

6 Spitzenberg apples (or any firm, tart apple like Granny Smith, Arkansas Black, etc.), peeled and sliced
3 tbls butter
3 tbls light brown sugar
juice of 1/2 lemon
a pinch of apple pie spices (cinnamon, allspice, clove)
a light grating of fresh nutmeg
pinch of kosher salt
1/4 cup Noble Dame Calvados (available at BevMo–or any good tasting Apple Brandy)
1/3 cup heavy whipping cream
pinch of Maldon sea salt

Peel, core and slice apples into ¼ inch wide slices.

In a large saute pan, melt butter over medium-high heat. When the butter foams and starts to smell nutty, add the apples, brown sugar, lemon juice, spices and a pinch of kosher salt. Stir the ingredients together and then–resisting the desire to move the apples around–let the apples cook. After 3-4 minutes (when the apple slices are caramelized) stir or toss the fruit in order to allow the apples to caramelize on both sides.

Add the Calvados (be careful of the flame). Cook down the liquor for 1-2 minutes and then add the whipping cream. Do this slowly, allowing just enough of the cream to thicken. Do not add all of the cream if not needed! Cook 2 minutes or until the sauce has thickened. Taste for sweetness and salt.

Spoon over vanilla ice cream, immediately. Finish with a pinch of Maldon sea salt.

September 21January 4

Foodbuzz 24, 24, 24: Farmers’ Market Iron Chef: Battle in the Kitchen

PRESS RELEASE (Los Angeles) Saturday, September 20th. Celebrating the launch of the Foodbuzz.com, an Internet food blog community, 24 featured publishers from around the world simultaneously participated in an array of culinary events across the globe.

One such event included two food bloggers, Food Woolf.com and SpicySaltySweet.com. The two bloggers—-both writing partners and Food Buzz featured publishers, battled it out in the kitchen in an Iron Chef-styled challenge.

Without the aid of sous-chefs or an arena-sized kitchen, the two Los Angeles-based food writers challenged themselves in a timed cooking challenge inspired by the bounty of produce available at the Santa Monica Farmers market. The challengers had two hours to prep, cook and plate three dishes focused on one main fall ingredient: Apples.

Dishes were presented to a panel of food lovers and food industry professionals and the trio of courses were evaluated on taste, plating and originality.

The judges deliberated over scores and, after some discussion, revealed the winning chef and her slim three point lead score. Food Woolf, also a long time friend and writing partner of Spicy Salty Sweet, was quick to point out to all involved how close the scores were.

“It’s not about who’s the better chef. It’s about whose dishes came out great this one day.”

Battle Apple

The challengers:
Food Blogger–Food Woolf (aka Brooke Burton)

Stats
From: Newbury, Massachusetts
Food Blog: Foodwoolf.com
Current job: writer, waiter
Cuisine: Farm driven American/European
Interests: eating, photographing food, reading cookbooks, hiking Runyon Canyon,
Ideal secret ingredient: bacon
Culinary inspirations: Nancy Silverton, Alice Waters, Mario Batali and farmers
Ideal judge: An enthusiastic eater
Culinary secret weapon: Passion!
Favorite restaurant: Pizzeria Mozza, Chez Panisse Café, Hungry Cat
Favorite food: Do I have to choose just one?
Food you won’t go near: food with a shelf life of over twenty years (think Twinkies)
Favorite food destination: Italy
Alternative food job: cook, restaurant owner

HER CHALLENGER:

Food Blog: www.spicysaltysweet.com

Current job: food & wine writer
Cuisine: Mediterranean
Interests: Cooking, eating traveling, hiking, camping, drinking and making wine
Ideal secret ingredient: tomato
Culinary inspirations: local farmers, Italian grandmas, Nancy Silverton, Mario Batali, Alton Brown
Ideal judge: Anthony Bourdain. He never lies and his critiques are always quotable.
Culinary secret weapon: Homemade ricotta
Favorite restaurant: O Ya in Boston, Pizzeria Mozza, Cyrus in Healdsburg
Favorite food: If I had to eat one thing for the rest of my life it would be pizza, it’s so versatile! And bacon.
Food you won’t go near: brains
Favorite food destination: In the U.S.–Sonoma County. Abroad? Italy, baby.
Alternative food job: Maybe one day I’ll make a little wine.

BEHIND THE SCENES:IT’S NOT ABOUT WINNING, IT’S HOW YOU PLAY THE GAME

7AM. With less than five hours of sleep after a late night at work, I pull myself from bed. I must prepare for battle. I flip on the kitchen lights and inspect the red suitcase I’ve filled with frying pans, knives, cutting boards, wooden spoons and mixing bowls. I empty my pantry and fill three canvas sacks with imported vinegars, Italian olive oils and sea salt. Never can be too prepared.

9 AM. With reusable shopping bags in hand and recipes memorized, Leah and I arrive at Santa Monica Farmers Market eager to discover our secret ingredient. Scanning the stands covered with muli-colored heirlooms and classic breeds of blush and green apples, the bounty of the markets’ abundant fall produce clearly dictates its decision: the secret ingredient is apple.

“May the battle begin!”

With just one hour to collect our ingredients, Leah and I take off in different directions. Within minutes, it the sweet smell of dozens of heirloom apples from Cirone Farms’ See Canyon market stand that draws my competitor and me together.

We sample crescent slices of the dozens of heirloom apple varieties like the Spitzenberg, Jonathan, Jonalicious, Fuji, Bellflower, and Hawkeye from the San Luis Obisbo apple farm.

It is the red-skinned, tart and sweet Spitzenberg (Thomas Jefferson’s favorite apple), however, that both Leah and I are drawn to for its complexity flavor. Leah and I snap up pounds of the Spitzenbergs. She buys Newton Pippins, Muutsus and Red Stripes while I grab handfuls of Jonalicious for their balance of sweet and tart and two softball-sized green Bellflowers, for their crisp texture and abundant, tart juice.

10:30 AM. My hook and go cart is heavy with newly purchased fresh goat cheese from the Farmstead Artisan goat cheese makers; apple cider and squash from Rocky Canyon; spinach and herbs from Maggie’s Farm; and heirloom zebra tomatoes from Munak.

10:45 AM. Thanks to some help from Eddie, the kindly butcher that put aside some organic duck breast for me, the trip Whole Foods of Santa Monica for protein and hard to find ingredients is a success. With a budget of $100 each, Leah and I have successfully purchased fresh, beautiful and straight-from-the-source ingredients for us to feed three courses to five judges.

12 AM. Arrive at our version of kitchen stadium: my friend Pilar’s house. Leah and I unload my kitchen suitcase filled with cooking gear and bagged pantry items from my car. From her trunk we pull a wine crate packed with knives, mixing bowls and serving utensils and a cardboard box filled with dishes. Once inside the large kitchen, we claim a side of the marble-topped kitchen island and begin organizing our cooking stations.

1 PM. Our esteemed panel of judges arrives.

The judges–food professionals, a restaurant publicity maven and a food lover–discuss voting procedure, the ethics of dressing dogs in cute outfits and food culture while Leah and I finalize the organization of our menus.

1:10 PM. Nick, one of our judges, flips a coin to decide which blogger will begin cooking. With a thirty-minute window between the two of us, the kitchen will be free to each chef for thirty minutes and each will have a chance to present their food without losing the dishes’ integrity.

ALLEZ-CUIZINE!

I watch Leah furiously begin chopping apples. I smile at her as she works. Her face is tight with concentration. She rarely looks up from her cutting board. I try to make conversation with the judges, but really, I’m thinking about the time. I watch the digital numbers on my wrist as I wait for:

1:40 Based on my time line and planned menu, I decide to prep and cook my butternut squash puree first. I slice away at the tough skin as I watch Leah drape cheesecloth over a plastic prep container and note the rising temperature of the raw milk she’s poured into a stockpot. As she checks the thermometer on the pot, I gasp when I realize what she’s doing. Leah is making cheese.

While the clock starts to tick away at my prep time, I mix up a blend of apple cider, calvados, Averna and dark rum. I pour it over ice with a nickel-sized slice of lemon zest and serve it to the judges (before judging has even begun) as an apertif. The judges clink glasses with me and take a sip. Mulled apples, pie spices and toast coat my tongue and sends my heart racing. But there’s no time for drinking cocktails. I’ve got cooking to do.

Leah zips past me as I stand at the stove. She washes a pot at the sink and returns it to one of her two burners at the four-burner stove. I watch her begin what looks like an apple risotto. Her smile confirms it as I give her a high five for choosing such high-difficulty dishes.

“Looks like the competitors are much too friendly,” notes one of the judges.

Time shape shifts as I prepare my dishes. There’s a calm that’s come over me. The swirl of sound as the judges speak disappears as I prepare the duck breasts. I slice away at unwanted textures of bone or connective tissue as I replay the memory of the kitchen prep I’ve watched in restaurant back kitchens. I set the mental image of my kitchen heroes and mimic their knife technique. I slice cross patterns into the fat of the duck and admire the patterns of white skin and crimson meat.

Despite the growing level of excitement in the kitchen, I find myself slipping into an almost meditative state. I prepare an apple gastrique and still have time to marvel at the syrupy texture of the sauce. I taste flavors of the veal stock, the sweet and tart of the apple, the balance of salt to pepper. I enjoy the nuanced colors of the apple as they caramelize in the pan. Despite the pressures of time, I find myself enjoying the beauty of cooking a new dish.

It must be my well-seasoned cast iron skillet making me feel this confident. Using a battle-axe of a fry pan, I feel like a confident toddler with a security blanket. I turn up the flame on my skillet until I can feel the heat on the palm of my hand when I hold it just above the pan’s coal-black surface. I toss the duck breasts onto the hot metal and listen to the hiss of meat searing.

My calm waivers while pureeing a cooked butternut squash and apples. Orange pulp splatters the white cabinets like a Pollack painting as my hand held mixer breaks in half. I ditch the immersion blender.

3:40 PM. I pull chilled plates from the refrigerator and begin plating my composed spinach salad. I toss the greens in salt and pepper, drizzle the leaves with a Spanish olive oil and then drizzle the salad with lemon juice and apple cider vinegar. I plate the greens and add the artisan goat cheese, candied nuts, and sautéed Bellewether green apples. I toss the quartered, green heirloom tomatoes in lemon juice and olive oil (just like Alice Waters taught me to do in her Café Cookbook) and add them to the salad. I question my choice of apples and green tomatoes for a moment, and decide to stick with my original plan.

I slice the duck breast and discover the meat is cooked pink all the way through. The meat looks exactly as I wanted it, but the duck’s fatty layer remains. I decide against trying to render off the duck fat, for fear of overcooking the meat.

I finish caramelizing apples with cream and sugar as the judges demand the next course. I add a splash of Calvados from a Normandy and grab the store bought gelato (a cheat, I know) from the freezer. As the last few seconds tick away, I realize the plates I planned to use are much too big. I become frantic as I search my host’s cabinets for smaller dishes. I snatch tea cups from the shelves and claw clumsy balls of vanilla ice cream from the frozen solid pint container. The ice cream scoop hits the floor and I let out an audible yelp.

My husband steps in to pluck the scoop off of the floor. There’s another call for my third and final course. I’m not going to make it! Forget about perfect quenelles of ice cream. I toss the ice cream into tea cups and rush to the judges table. So much for my zen like calm.

My Dishes

Spinach and Bellflower apple salad with Farmstead Artisan Goat Cheese, candied peanuts and green heirloom tomatoes

Pan seared duck breast with Jonalicious gastrique, pureed apple and butternut squash, and candied apples

Naked Pie: Caramelized Spizenburg apples with Calvados and vanilla ice cream

While the judges deliberate, Leah and I stand in the kitchen like two shell-shocked warriors. We share appreciatory smiles while we hungrily chew the extra scraps from our dishes. We’re tired, exhausted, hungry and in need of a drink. Water or alcohol, it doesn’t matter. Something. Anything.

The judges call us to the table for the final judgment. The scores (plating, originality and taste) have been tallied.

“The judges have decided. It was a very close race. With the winning score of 68 points, the winner is…”

The judges announce my name and my face flushes. I can’t believe it. I’ve won? But what about the lacking salt on the duck? The choice of greens in my salad? The big tea cup instead of a bowl for my dessert?

I scan the judging cards and see the numbers all add up. I won by three taste points.

Leah and I take a seat at the judges’ table to taste what remains of the dishes after two judges leave before they’re late for a night of service at their busy restaurant jobs. It’s the first chance we’ve had all day to sit down and relax.

It’s wonderful tasting Leah’s apple dishes. Her palate cleansing apple and fennel salad is refreshingly simple. The perfectly cooked Pork loin with its sweet and spicy relish is by far the best savory course of them all. The doughy fritter, delicate cheese drizzled with honey reminds me of a sophisticated fairground dessert. Even though I feel a sense of pride for winning, I know we both have won. The element of competition raised our game, made us better chefs and inspired us to take chances.

After facing the heat of our make-shift kitchen stadium, Leah and I–two food bloggers, writing partners, featured publishers and, most importantly, friends—are still just as unified as ever. Maybe even more unified than before.

September 12

Lunch at Chez Panisse Cafe

I’m on my own and on foot the day I visit Chez Panisse Café for the first time. I take the train from San Francisco across the bay and, mistakenly, 45 minutes south of Berkeley before I realize I’m going the wrong way. I change trains, take a deep breath of calm and start all over again. When the doors of the BART train open to the Berkeley stop, I’m already thirty minutes early for my lunchtime reservation and feeling as breathless as I did on my wedding day.

The second my feet touch Berkeley’s Shattuck Avenue, I suppress the desire to skip and start walking the 9 blocks from the train station to the ivy covered façade of Chez Panisse.

I take in the Berkeley sights. There’s a half off bookstore on the corner that sells cookbooks along side textbooks and philosophy paperbacks. Almost every corner has a different pair of political students campaigning for the environment, peace or the health of a campus tree. A student in an electric wheel chair passes me on the undulating sidewalk with chair that’s tricked out with a keyboard, mouse and stereo speakers and a tiny dog that looks like Dorothy’s Toto perched on her lap.

Approaching Chez Panisse alone is not as climactic as it could be. Had I been with my food-obsessed husband we’d hug each other in delight or slap an excited high five outside the front door. Instead, I am left to snap discreet digital photographs that, in their sheer number, are the only way I can express the intensity of my culinary awe.

I’m first-date giddy as I take two steps up the well-worn stairs of Chez Panisse. My heart beats with a double-time cadence as I push open the front door. Cherry stained hardwood and a bouquet of green and celadon flowers entice me up the steep stairs to the café. Thought it’s quiet outside, once upstairs I’m struck by the noise of the many diners. The afternoon light pours in through the wood-trimmed craftsman windows, illuminating the tables with movie quality daylight. The space is comfortable as a friend’s house and the air is alive with excitement.

At my table for one, I sit on the banquet and watch the diners around me. Another solo diner finishes what looks like a business lunch and snaps a picture of himself with his iPhone. Three generations of women celebrate the youngest blonde’s birthday with stories of her as an infant. With a smile, a back waiter delivers a basket of perfectly made sourdough bread, butter and a pretty little glass water carafe with Chez Panisse and a wreath of olive branches etched into the glass.

Though the dining room spins with front waiters, back waiters and plates of food, Daniel, my waiter, greets me with a Zen-like calm. I confess to him my excitement. This is, after all, my first trip. I require a little hand holding. He suggests some dishes and, after leaving my table, steps up to a wood banquet that has a lid that lifts up like a child’s school desk. Inside hides the restaurant’s Point of Sale System. It’s clear that every detail, from the mirrored wall panels that allow guests unrestricted views of the room, to the perfectly baked sourdough bread, to the architectural details in the overhead lights, that every detail of the guests’ experience has been considered by the Chez Panisse family.

My appetizer of thin rounds of heirloom tomatoes topped with Bellwether farms ricotta, red onion and basil ($10.50) arrives quickly. The tomatoes are a mixture of red, pink and almost under ripe looking fruit that, when sliced, are clearly at the peak of perfection. Little jewels of soft creamy ricotta top the tomatoes along with vinegar kissed red onions, a muddle of basil and crushed black pepper corns. Each bite offers creamy ricotta, well integrated herbs that become a sauce with the sun warmed tomatoes and the bright acidity of the vinaigrette. This is one sexy California Caprese.

Daniel delivers Alice Water’s favorite wine, Domaine Tempier’s Bandol Rose ($16.25/glass). The wine smells of rose petals and Aix-en-Provence lavender and sparkles with orange zest freshness on the tongue. It is a perfect compliment to the Laughing Stock Farm Pork leg and belly with shell beans, rapini and sage ($22).

“This dish is almost like a classic Chez Panisse entrée, the way it’s made,” Daniel says as he presents the dish. I nod, like a dashboard mounted bobble head reacting to a bumpy road, as I take my first bite of the caramelized, salted cloud of pork belly. Past the salty crunch of the perfectly seared meat, it’s a pillow of pork belly fat that’s both light and rich. The pork leg is both dense and moist, with its tight meat and voluminous fattiness. The fresh shell beans–tongue of fire, trail of tears, black, and lima beans–are a revelation of flavor. The outer firmness of the hand shelled beans gives way to textured creaminess as each bite reveals the elemental protein structure of the beans.

As the dining room empties I order another entrée. I try the day’s pizzette in hopes of discovering how my beloved Nancy Silverton’s pizza dough measures up to Alice Waters’. Daniel delivers a glass of Roagna Dolcetto ($11.75/glass) to go with my wild nettle and mozzarella pizza. The simplicity of the oven roasted wild nettles plays against the creamy mozzarella. I can’t help but compare the Chez Panisse Cafe’s Pizzette to Pizzeria Mozza’s wet, almost alive foccia-styled dough. The Café’s pizza is dense and bready like a flour-dusted bialy.

After wrapping up the leftovers of my meal, Daniel winks at me as he delivers a copper bowl of fruit. I’ve heard stories from other diners about the fruit at Chez Panisse. My friend the very talented chef of Hatfield’s Restaurant, Quinn Hatfield, once told me how miffed he was when he was ser
ved a piece of fruit at the end of his meal. Then he bit into it. “it’s was the most ________’ing amazing peach I’ve ever tasted,” he told me with a smile. “Honestly, it was the best. And I’ve had a lot of fruit.”

With my first bite of the Flavor King pluot I am transported to another world. The tart skin gives with the easiest pressure and explodes with juice that tastes of marzipan and candied almonds. I’m grinning ear to ear as the juice drips down my arm and I treasure every bite until there is nothing left but a semi-naked seed.

Next to the plum, I am more restrained as I eat the teardrop sized green and sun red Flame grapes. Their sweet, palate cleaning sweetness and acidity goes perfectly with the herbal infusion of mint and lemon verbena. A perfect drink for a chilly San Francisco day.

By four o’clock, the dining room is nearly empty of diners and the cooks in their chef whites playfully elbow servers as they line up at the bar for a glass of wine. With the bar filled with happy employees with their shift drink in hand, I watch my brothers and sisters of the service industry bask in the glory of the end of the day’s service.

As I prepare to leave, Daniel offers to show me around. We pass the kitchen, glowing gold in the overhead lights, as a handful of chefs drink their wine and another cuts balls of dough for dinner service. Employees grab plates and enjoy the day’s staff meal of orecchette, wedges of watermelon and perfectly dressed organic greens. Daniel smiles at me. “Chez Panisse makes the best staff meal I’ve ever had.” Looking at the bounty before me–and remembering the frozen hot dogs, butter soaked pasta and mystery meat surprises I’ve eaten while working in restaurants–I nod in agreement. He’s absolutely right.

I can’t wait to go back.

September 4November 14

Hope

Peddling a new sort of Hope. For your enjoyment.

September 1November 14

Food declaration

Hear ye! Hear ye all food lovers! Now is the time to make your voice of concern heard!

Sensing the need for a unified voice for change, Food Declaration.org created a declaration of intent to raise consumer awareness and increase our government’s responsibility to support wholesome food, animal welfare and healthy agriculture.

Based on the organizations mission statement, the Declaration is meant to provide:

1. A clear statement of what kind of policy is needed now, which is endorsed by a broad base of organizations and individuals with a long established commitment to a healthier food and agriculture.
2. An invitation to all Americans to join in the improvement effort by taking action in their own lives and communities and by offering them a way to call on policymakers to comprehensively support change.
3. A set of principles from which policy makers may craft policy that will lead to a healthier system. –from fooddeclaration.org

Organized by Roots of Change, a handful of farmers, national leaders, writers, chefs, and food advocates joined together to create a document that demands agricultural and social justice for food growers and eaters alike.

Drafted and revised sixty times, the Food Declaration was written by a panel of well-respected and agriculturally minded people including Michael Pollan, Alice Waters, the poet Wendell Berry, and Jim Braun of Slow Food USA. The declaration was completed on August 16th, 2008.

To add your John Hancock and get more information about the declaration go here.

August 31November 14

Kitchen Secrets

Kitchen Secrets, originally uploaded by Foodwoolf.

There are things that we do at home–private things—that people never witness. Shaving in the shower, flossing teeth, scratching a hidden itch, dusting the bookshelves in pajamas or eating an over-ripe mango seed over the sink. In these solitary moments we are the most unpolished versions of ourselves.

There are things we do in the kitchen—unspeakable things—that our food loving friends don’t know about. Reheating five-day leftovers because there’s nothing else to eat. Cutting a corner of moldy cheese away and eating around the rest. Employing the “two second rule” to wayward foods too expensive or too limited to lose. Playing Iron Chef Leftover (only to lose terribly at our own game). We hide in the light of the refrigerator as we sneak a heaping spoonful of butterscotch sauce or peanut butter or one last bite of ice cream when no one is looking. We eat frozen food and tell no one.

Money is tight, hours grow short

After a long day of writing, I had less than an hour to shower, dress, and feed myself enough to keep hunger at bay during my eight hour, break-free restaurant shift. I grabbed a frozen Trader Joe’s pizza from the freezer, pulled a white onion from the crisper drawer and ripped a handful of fresh herbs from my purple basil plant.

As I drizzled a finishing olive oil over arranged onion slices and ripped basil on my $4 frozen pizza, I considered this covert business of consuming something I knew I shouldn’t be. I wondered if other food loving people do such things. Has a shortage of time, limited funds and unabashed cravings driven other foodies to hide away Twinkies and sneak purchases from the frozen food section?

As an arbiter of great pizza (I wait tables at a three-star pizzeria), the last thing I should be eating is a frozen pizza.

But for four dollars, ten minutes cooking time in the oven, and a handful of fresh ingredients to mask the almost cardboard flavor of the frozen pizza, this is a secret meal deal that just can’t be beat.

I know its been said “you can’t make a silk purse from a sow’s ear”, but you can definitely gussy it up.

Question of the week: is there anyone else out there with kitchen secrets they fear to share?

August 28November 14

One people like food

One people like food, originally uploaded by Foodwoolf.

I just discovered Wordle, an amazing web tool that generates “word clouds” from text that you provide. The clouds give greater prominence to words that appear more frequently in the source text.

This word cloud is from my post called Separated at Birth.

August 28November 14

Food Woolf's Omnivore's One Hundred

originally posted on flickr by pyza*

Have you ever stepped into an animated conversation half-way through, just in time for an explosive punchline and wondered “what the heck did I just miss?”

Stumbling onto an unfamiliar blog with a lot of readers and a clear story being told, can sometimes make you feel like a real johnny come lately. As a reader, you have a choice: Skip the conversation entirely, or, for a former high school dork like myself, you become a quick study of what the “cool kids” are talking about. You backtrack through past posts and links in hopes of catching up to the conversation.

Lately, I’ve come across several couple blogs that seem to be mid conversation about all the things they’ve eaten. Blog after blog, there are these one hundred point lists of ALLLLLLL the things they’ve tasted….Long laundry lists don’t make for great reading, so I’ve skipped a lot of them.

Until Serious Eats told me what was going on. It seems this one person, Very Good Taste created a list of foods that suggests what every omnivore should consume in their lifetime. In the end, the list has been passed around blogs and lots and lots of people have taken a look at this list, filled it out, and posted their accounting of tastes on their blog.

I don’t see the point in posting one’s own “eaten” list, but I do think it’s a great tool to get any foodie excited about what’s next to eat. Personally, I can not wait to get myself to Canada for some Poutin.

Food Woolf’s Omnivore Hundred:

1. Venison
2. Nettle tea
3. Huevos rancheros
4. Steak tartare
5. Crocodile (I’d only eat this if it was road kill or killed in self defense)
6. Black pudding
7. Cheese fondue
8. Carp
9. Borscht
10. Baba ghanoush
11. Calamari
12. Pho
13. PB&J sandwich
14. Aloo gobi
15. Hot dog from a street cart
16. Epoisses
17. Black truffle
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes
19. Steamed pork buns
20. Pistachio ice cream
21. Heirloom tomatoes
22. Fresh wild berries
23. Foie gras
24. Rice and beans
25. Brawn, or head cheese
26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper
27. Dulce de leche
28. Oysters
29. Baklava
30. Bagna cauda
31. Wasabi peas
32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl
33. Salted lassi
34. Sauerkraut
35. Root beer float
36. Cognac with a fat cigar
37. Clotted cream tea
38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O
39. Gumbo
40. Oxtail
41. Curried goat
42. Whole insects
43. Phaal
44. Goat’s milk
45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more
46. Fugu
47. Chicken tikka masala
48. Eel
49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut
50. Sea urchin
51. Prickly pear
52. Umeboshi
53. Abalone
54. Paneer
55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal
56. Spaetzle
57. Dirty gin martini
58. Beer above 8% ABV
59. Poutine
60. Carob chips
61. S’mores
62. Sweetbreads
63. Kaolin
64. Currywurst
65. Durian
66. Frogs’ legs
67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake
68. Haggis
69. Fried plantain
70. Chitterlings, or andouillette
71. Gazpacho
72. Caviar and blini
73. Louche absinthe
74. Gjetost, or brunost
75. Roadkill
76. Baijiu
77. Hostess Fruit Pie
78. Snail
79. Lapsang souchong
80. Bellini
81. Tom yum
82. Eggs Benedict
83. Pocky
84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant.
85. Kobe beef
86. Hare
87. Goulash
88. Flowers
89. Horse
90. Criollo chocolate
91. Spam
92. Soft shell crab
93. Rose harissa
94. Catfish
95. Mole poblano
96. Bagel and lox
97. Lobster Thermidor
98. Polenta
99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee
100. Snake

1) Copy this list into your blog or journal.
2) Bold all the items you’ve eaten.
3) Cross out any items that you would never consider eating.

August 25November 14

Separated at Birth

Truly passionate people are a rare breed. They love things fully. They admire the nuances of a moment and delight in the intricacies of a beloved item. Their heart beats faster and their eyes glisten with excitement whenever they talk about their favorite subject. They obsess over perfection.

Passionate people are strange to normal, average folk. They burn bright, like short-lived fireflies in a world of non-committal drones. Impassioned people like Albert Einstein, Vincent Van Gogh, Jack Nicholson, John F. Kennedy, Steven Spielberg, Virginia Woolf, Steve Jobs, Amelia Earheart and Joan of Arc were all so unique and obsessive in their nature they were considered odd before they were ever praised. Focused on their obsession, uniquely passionate people may not even realize how isolated they are.

As a guest of White On Rice’s first annual food blogger bash, I was surrounded by a small group of passionate food bloggers that shared so many of the same odd traits as me, I realized I wasn’t such a strange, food-obsessed person after all.

Like an adopted twin reunited with her other half for the first time, I felt at ease knowing that each of these bloggers—strangers to me before the party—were uniquely, just like me.

My first real, separated at birth moment came the minute I met Todd and Diane of White on Rice. In Todd’s love of hosting, his unending graciousness and desire to make every one of his guests at ease showed me that I was not alone in my love of great service. The stock piled dishes and obsessively collected (.69 cent!) stemware, proved that I wasn’t alone in my love of creating events that celebrated food. In their spacious back yard, I touched garden herbs and rare fruit trees and saw two people who built their home around food and raised plants to facilitate great eating. I admired Todd and Diane as they flawlessly hosted and directed a group of strangers towards comfort and ease. I knew of their impressive food knowledge from their incredible blog, but watching them speak like two prophets of food was inspiring.

I was shocked when my food blog hero Matt of Matt Bites and his adoring, food styling partner, Adam leapt from their seats at the dinner table to get a first look of the fully cooked whole fish when the lid of the grill was lifted. My shock was not due to their departure, but because they beat me to it.

I did a double take when Julie from Julie’s Kitchen, gasped in delight at a plate of delicious food that was placed before her. I smiled, knowing I wasn’t alone in my vocal appreciation of culinary creations.

I smiled when Allison of Sushi Day gushed about the joys of cooking sushi and the look of pride she had when her boyfriend Son modeled a tee shirt that became one of most applauded gifts of the night.

I recognized the dedication to food culture that Marvin of Burnt Lumpia, a food blogger obsessed with Filipino food, showed when he talked about the first Filipino-American winery in the United States.

I watched proudly as my good friend Leah from Spicy Salty Sweet riffed about wine while snapping up dirty plates from the table like the restaurant pro that she is.

I discovered I wasn’t the only one with a cookbook collection on the nightstand and a Ceylon tea addiction to keep late night reading alive when I met Matt of Wrightfood.

I found a sister from the East coast in Toni from Daily Bread. Her stories of jumping a plane for India in search of straight from the source ethnic food made me sigh with relief that my two hour car rides to eat great Mexican food wasn’t so strange after all.

I didn’t feel self-conscious of my obsessive food photography as I watched the beautiful Sarah from the Delicious Life snap action shots of the slicing of a 25 pound Jack Fruit.

I almost cried when the kitchen filled up with food loving bloggers prepping dishes while Wandering Chopsticks deftly lifted spring rolls from boiling oil with chopsticks.

As the night drew to an end and the guests hugged each other goodbye, I was filled with an overwhelming sense of honor to be part of this incredible group of people. In just one, well-orchestrated evening, I learned I was not so alone in my passion for food. I realized I had found a new sort of family.

August 25

Bangkok Market

LA is the home of the strip mall. You can’t go more than a two blocks without finding a slab of concrete sprinkled with a mash-up of unrelated storefronts and an ethnic restaurant that delivers its country’s culinary traditions in Styrofoam and plastic containers.

For the person whose recycling container holds more to-go containers than grocery bags, there will always be another Los Angeles strip mall ethnic restaurant to try. But for those of us with budgets so tight we need the extra coin from recycling soda cans, an ethnic market may be most economical way to bring the flavors of the east into your home.

Located a few blocks east of Western at the intersection of Latino neighborhood and Thai town, Bangkok Market, is an Asian grocery store favored by local Vietnamese and Thai Americans, curious foodies and chefs.

The windowless market is small, but the cramped aisles are filled with low-priced Asian delicacies and staples. The store stocks straight from the source Asian foods and, thanks to the proximity of a large Latino community, Bangkok Market also offers a limited amount of Central American ingredients.

Staples like jasmine rice, noodles, vinegar and oil can be purchased well under the price point of other “whole paycheck” grocery chains. There is a meat counter that offers offers fresh fish, shellfish and some various meats—as well as a “fish frying service” that will cook your fish for you on the spot.

Produce is limited, but the fruits, vegetables and herbs are fresh and unbelievably inexpensive. When grocery chains charge $1 per lemon, it’s worth the trip across town to get a pound of citrus for less.

For anyone looking to stock up on general kitchen supplies, Bangkok Market has a small selection of inexpensive woks ($10), citrus squeezers ($3), knives for under fifteen bucks, graters and plates can all be purchased for as little as two dollars.

The shelves at Bangkok Market may be filled with unfamiliar items, but with values such as this, it pays to be a little adventurous.

Bangkok Market
4757 Melrose Ave
Los Angeles, CA 90029
(323) 662-9705

View Larger Map

August 22

Golden Phelps

It’s summer and trees are heavy with stone fruits. Nectarines, freckled with yellow, orange and red, drip with abundant juice. Peaches, heavy and fuzzy like an animal, feel alive in your hand. Plums—purple, ruby and gold—are so ripe they glisten like translucent jewels.

With fruit this good, it’s hard not to want to buy a lot. Problem is, what to do with it all? Cobblers and crisps are a good option, but this summer we’ve probably eaten more than our share. I’m ready for something different. Why not a great summer fruit cocktail?

The following cocktail was inspired by one the US’s greatest, food-loving Olympians, Michael Phelps.

The Golden Phelps

Six leaves of purple basil
1 ripe plum, seeds removed and quartered
1 orange, juiced (reserve half of juice for the next cocktail!)
Splash of simple syrup
2 pieces of candied ginger, sliced
1 ounce dark rum
1 ounce light rum

Add the basil leaves in a cocktail shaker and muddle for 2 seconds to release the herb’s oils. Add the plum and one sliced piece of candied ginger. Continue to muddle. Fill shaker with ice. Add juice of the orange, simple syrup and rums. Shake. Taste for balance. Add more simple syrup or orange juice if needed.

Strain and pour over ice, leaving room at the top for adding pieces of muddled fruit and basil to glass. Garnish with candied ginger and basil.

Dive in and enjoy!

August 16November 14

National Rum Day at home

Just this week, my friend Pilar–a beautiful brown haired Spaniard (whose picture is featured in my previous post)–scratched her cornea while getting dressed for work. The result: an hour in the emergency room, a quick application of medicated eye drops, and a big eye patch.

A doctor prescribed eye patch would have been enough to mortify most people in this city. But not Pilar. She rocked that eye-patch like a fashionable, Spanish pirate.

So, inspired by Pilarrrrrrrrr (think pirate speak) and the fact that today is National Rum Day, I bring you the recipe for a Dark and Stormy—a refreshing drink made with spicy ginger beer (a kind of soda), fresh lime-juice and dark rum. Careful pouring of each ingredient will create a two-toned sea of deliciousness, that ultimately inspired the drink’s name.

Use Gosling’s dark rum if you want to impress. Or go the cheap route and buy a $10 of Whaler’s rum from Trader Joe’s. Use a good ginger beer–the best are made by Bundaberg and Blenheim. These sodas are available at the Soda Pop Shop, Bev Mo, World Market and other fine liquor merchants.

Dark and Stormy
Makes one drink

1.5 ounces of dark rum
One bottle of ginger beer
Juice of half a lime

Fill glass with ice. Add lime juice and ginger beer. Pour rum over the back of a spoon to create the layer of dark rum on the bottom of the glass. Garnish with lime.

I raise my glass to Pilar and her quickly healed eye!

August 13November 14

Congrats Palate Food and Wine!

I raise a glass to my favorite new restaurant, Palate Food and Wine. Congratulations for receiving THREE STARS from the Los Angeles Times!

You deserve it!

Home made butter. Delicious pickled fruit in Mason Jars! Amazing cheese. Wild boar prosciutto. The Porkfolio! Crayfish, fresh from the shell–dipped in citrus butter. Delicate fish. Tender steak. Rich chocolate pudding. Talented servers. Wonderful and eclectic wine list. A wine shop in the back!!!My god–what an incredible night of eating. Me and all of my friends can’t wait to go back!

Congratulations to chef/owner, Octavio Becerra, chef Gary Menes, wine director Steve Goldun, general manager Laura O’Hare and all the beautiful and talented staff working there!

August 12March 14

Dearborn Michigan, How Could I Forget You?

If you’re a foodie on vacation, sometimes the place you travel to ends up being secondary to the food that’s eaten while you’re there. Sure there are pretty vistas, gorgeous wild life, interesting art to admire—but aaaah, the food! When vacations become culinary journeys, sometimes it’s difficult to take a detailed accounting of every great meal. If you were to witness the more than one thousand pictures of every meal I had on my Italian honeymoon, you’d get and idea of what I’m talking about.

After my trip to Ann Arbor, Michigan, I unpacked my bags, downloaded the hundreds of pictures of food I snapped, and perused the menus from all the restaurants I ate at. Originally I hoped for a few good stories out of the experience. But after the posts about Zingerman’s started piling up, I realized I had a bit more than just a few words to say. Because of this never ending rant, I thought it would be best for me to “step away from the mike”, as it were, and go back to my usual business of posting about Los Angeles food. Continue reading “Dearborn Michigan, How Could I Forget You?”

August 7

Squash Blossoms at Home

One of the great things about working at a really good restaurant is watching great food get made. One of the frustrating parts of working at a great restaurant is being around food for eight or nine long hours and never getting to eat.

The following dish is one of the signature appetizers of the restaurant I work at. Whenever an extra dish is “fired” (cooked) or doesn’t meet the chef’s standards, there’s a chance that the dish will be apprehended by a scavaging staff member ready to snag a quick bite, before the dish’s contents gets tossed.

This weekend’s farmer’s market was crowded with beautiful examples of squash blossoms, just begging to be made fresh.

There are two forms of squash blossoms available at local farmer’s markets from . When at the market look for squash blossoms that are either “unattached” (the male flowers) or the small blossom attached to a baby squash (the female flower). Either kind of blossom will require the removal of their internal “organs” (the pistil or the stamen) before they can be stuffed. The flowers are delicate and quick to go bad, so be sure to use the flowers right away.

I made this dish with fresh Buffala ricotta, which can be found at Bubalus Bubalis’s , the Hollywood Farmers market and a number of other cheese stores across the country. The taste and texture of this cheese is amazing but a fresh cow’s ricotta cheese will do.

Ricotta stuffed squash blossoms
A simple appetizer for two

For the blossoms
1 ½ cups of fresh buffalo ricotta or cow’s milk ricotta
pinch of salt
Freshly grated nutmeg (to taste)
Six (or more) squash blossoms

For the batter
1 cup panko (Asian breadcrumbs)
1 egg, beaten

olive oil (enough to cover the bottom of a small frying pan with a thin layer)
pinch of maldon sea salt
squeeze of lemon

Inspect the inside of the blossoms for insects and remove the inside flower “organs”.

In a small bowl mix together ricotta, salt and freshly grated nutmeg to taste. With either a small spoon or you fingers, stuff the cleaned blossoms with the ricotta mixture. Don’t over stuff, be sure to put in just enough to fill the flower’s belly with ricotta. Twist the ends of the squash flowers to close.

Pour the panko onto a plate. Dip the stuffed squash blossom into the beaten egg (let drip for a second) and then roll onto the breadcrumbs.

After you have breaded your squash blossoms, heat a small frying pan over medium to high heat. Add the oil and let it get hot.

Gently add one squash blossom onto the bed of the pan. Make sure the oil is hot enough to make the flower and breading sizzle. Add just enough squash blossoms to cook them but not overcrowd the pan. Turn the blossoms with tongs when golden on one side—about 4 minutes. Turn until the blossoms are completely golden. Put on a paper napkin to drain of oil.

Put on plate, finish with a squeeze of lemon and a quick pinch of Maldon sea salt. Serve immediately.

August 1

A dish with Alice Waters

There’s something so wonderful about cooking from a recipe. By following the directions, ingredient for ingredient, you are, in a sense, channeling the culinary spirit of the chef that created the dish. When the dish is complete and you sample the flavors, you are able to take an objective view of the dish. You can marvel at the ideas that brought those singular flavors together. You may note the subtlety of flavor or the unexpected abundance of it. By cooking dishes created by the masters, you begin to understand the inspirations of a Chef from the inside out.

Last night, in preparation of returning my many Alice Water’s cookbooks to the library, I made simple dessert—based on an amalgam of two recipes and what ingredients I had on hand. Some of the adjustments were mine, but the style of the dish is all Alice.

My first bite of this semi-sweet, rustic crisp made me feel like I was enjoying a dessert that Alice Waters and Lindsay Shere had made especially for me.

Nectarine and Blueberry Crisp
Adapted from the Chez Panisse Café Cookbook and Chez Panisse Fruit

½ cup almonds
1 cup all-purpose flour
3 tablespoons brown sugar
2 tablespoons granulated sugar
¼ teaspoon ground cinnamon
a pinch of salt
6 tablespoons unsalted butter

5 ripe nectarines, pitted and cut into 1 inch pieces
1 cup blueberries
¼ cup sugar
3 tablespoons unbleached flour
zest of one lemon, chopped fine
1 tablespoon aged rum

For the Topping

Preheat oven to 375 F. Toast the almonds until they smell nutty and are slightly more brown, about 7 or 8 minutes. Chop the almonds to a medium to fine consistency. Combine the flour, the sugars, the salt and spice in a mixing bowl. Add the chilled butter in pieces and mix with your fingers until it becomes mealy. Add the nuts and mix until the flour mixture holds together when squeezed. Put aside. (The topping can be prepared up to a week in advance and refrigerated).

For the Crisp
Mix the fruit in a medium-sized bowl and then add the sugar. Taste and adjust for sweetness. (*Note, don’t over sugar the fruit—there’s something quite beautiful about a semi-sweet crisp. Don’t be afraid to let the fruit express itself in its truest form.) Dust the flour over the mixture and stir gently. Spoon the topping into a small cooking dish is just big enough to hold the fruit. Mound a small amount in the center of the dish. Then, gently add the crisp mixture on top. Lightly push the crumble on top of the fruit mixture.

Place a cookie sheet on the middle rack of the oven (to catch any overflow juices) and put the crisp dish on top. Bake in the oven for 40 to 50 minutes, or until the top is lightly browned and the fruit juices are thickened and bubbling. The delicious smell of baked fruit will help you know when it’s close to being ready.

Serve with rum flavored whipped cream or vanilla ice cream. Finish the ice cream with a sprinkle of Maldon sea salt.

Author: Food Woolf

Dreaming of Paris

You know things are bad when…

EcoGastronomy Major offered at UNH

Eating our way back to Normal

Naked Pie

Foodbuzz 24, 24, 24: Farmers’ Market Iron Chef: Battle in the Kitchen

Lunch at Chez Panisse Cafe

Hope

Food declaration

Kitchen Secrets

One people like food

Food Woolf's Omnivore's One Hundred

Separated at Birth

Bangkok Market

Golden Phelps

National Rum Day at home

Congrats Palate Food and Wine!

Dearborn Michigan, How Could I Forget You?

Squash Blossoms at Home

A dish with Alice Waters