Chef Technique – Food Woolf

Lemon Garlic Chicken from Made In America

roasted whole chicken — iPhone photo of Lemon-Garlic Chicken from Chef Michel Richard

When people ask me if I’m available for a dinner date or event, I often have to tell them this: I don’t know. Maybe? It’s not that I’m trying to hedge my bets or play hard to get, but the truth is I never really know. I’m building my business as the Service Coach and I don’t have a set schedule. Because when you’re a consultant, or are in the business of being of service to people, you really have to be available for your clients–new, current, or recurring–all the time.

So when Lucy Lean asked me to participate in a virtual dinner party to celebrate the release of her gorgeous, must have book MADE IN AMERICA a few weeks back, I knew I was going to be in the thick of working with one of my clients. So rather than bow out, I asked if I could be a virtual late arrival. And so I am.

I chose to cook this Lemon Garlic Roasted Chicken from chef Michel Richard for a handful of different reasons. 1) I wanted to check out a cooking technique for chicken (a modified low and slow method?) 2) It looked the easiest recipe for me to make under tight timing constraints and 3) I admire Chef Michel Richard.

The recipe is quite simple but it does require a bit more time than my usual Zuni chicken method. I liked the results and I can’t wait to cook more from Lucy’s gorgeous book.

Congratulations to Lucy Lean. And thank you so much for welcoming me, even though I’m more than fashionably late!

lemon garlic chicken — Lemon garlic chicken from Made in America

[print_link]

Made in America Lemon-Garlic Roasted Chicken
Give yourself 2 hours for prep and cooking and you’ll be happy with the moist and delicately flavored bird. Though Lucy doesn’t say to, I recommend using the lemon-infused onions and garlic cloves as a garnish for the chicken.

2 onions, sliced
20 cloves of garlic, unpeeled
one free-range chicken (about 4 lbs)
2 lemons cut in half, plus an additional 1/2 lemon
1 branch of fresh thyme
4 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons chopped, fresh flat-leaf parsley
S&P

Place a rack in the middle of the oven and preheat to 300°F.
Cover the bottom of a roasting pan with the onion slices and garlic cloves.
Rinse the chicken under cold water inside and out. Drain and thoroughly pat dry with paper towels. Lightly season the cavity with salt and pepper. Stuff with thyme and four of the lemon halves. Place the chicken in the roasting pan, season with salt and pepper, and sprinkle with olive oil.
Roast in the middle of the oven for 1 hour. After an hour, remove the chicken from the oven and increase the heat to 450°F. When this temperature is reached, return the chicken to the oven and roast until golden and crisp. [NOTE: This may take more than 30 minutes, depending on the size of your bird]. The chicken is cooked when a fork inserted into the thigh releases clear juices [or the internal temperature of the bird reaches 165°F.].
Remove the chicken from the oven and let it rest for 10 minutes. Remove the lemon halves from the cavity.
Slice up the chicken to serve. Squeeze the juice of the uncooked, remaining lemon over the chicken and sprinkle with chopped parsley.
Transfer the onion, garlic, and liquid from the roasting pan to a sauté pan and bring to a boil. Add half a cup of water to the pan, mix well, and return to a boil. Strain and serve the liquid as a gravy with the chicken.

March 5

Raw Fish Revolution: A Recipe

The Italians call raw fish crudo and the Japanese, sashimi; even the Spanish have a word for their citrus soaked raw fish preparation, ceviche. But what is the word for the dishes that American chefs create with uncooked fish? Naked fish? Raw appetizers?

Here in LA, a broad range of award-winning chefs serve raw fish on their menus every night. There’s a a raw fish trend spreading through fine dining American restaurants, Baltimore fish joints, Cal-Euro bistros, and even Cal-Mex-Spanish fusion eateries. What’s so appealing about eating a barely adorned piece of raw fish? Simple. The fresh flavors of the sea mixed with oil, citrus, herbs, or salt is a wonderful way to engage the palate and awaken the appetite.

Though one must be careful when consuming raw or undercooked fish, a thinly sliced piece of fresh-from-the-sea fish prepared with a handful of ingredients is—without a doubt—an understated show stopper. I’ve sampled Chef Quinn Hatfield’s of Hatfield’s Restaurant’s version of crudo: fresh fluke that’s marinated in beet juice and finished with sea salt, oil, and micro-greens. I’ve gorged on raw fish at Hungry Cat with Chef David Lentz’s raw snapper on a puree of edamame with blood orange supremes and shiso leaves. The flavors of raw fish mixed with citrus, flavored oil, and salt results in delicate, poetic starters that leave me hungry (and inspired) for more.

Continue For an Easy To Make Crudo Recipe »

February 24January 3

Cook Like a Chef, Even if You Don’t Know One

cookbook cover — Knowing where to look for culinary answers is key to cooking a great meal

Not every food lover has the opportunity to turn to a celebrated chef for help whenever they have a food question. That’s why I treasure the fact that my job as a server and bartender puts me in the proximity of some of the most chefs in Los Angeles.

Though I may not cook like an award-winning chef, I certainly want to. For that reason alone, I never take the blur of activity in the restaurant’s kitchen for granted. As I pass by the busy stoves on my way to the dining room, I snatch mental snapshots of the day’s prep: the way a prep cook measures out a perfect portion of pasta with a scale, how another slides his sharp knife through the belly of a fish, and the way a pastry cook zests a lemon with confident strokes.

Whether or not the brigade in chefs’ whites is aware, these men and women are my culinary mentors. When a recipe stumps me or a particular ingredient poses too much of a challenge, I bring my culinary conundrums to the people I trust the most. Because chefs know how dough should feel, the way to combine simple flavors and make them sing, just which spice will make a dish come alive, or how to thicken a sauce so it clings to a protein like a mist rolling over a hill.

Unfortunately, it seems like the moments when I truly need a chef’s expertise is when I’m alone at my home stove or at the farmers’ market with a head full of uncertainties. Though I work for Nancy Silverton, I’m not about to call the busy chef with a question about lamb shanks*. So how does a home cook find their way in the kitchen? Here are five simple ideas to get you closer to cooking like a chef.

Continue For Five Tips to Get You Cooking Like a Chef »

July 29

An improvised recipe for Maryland Crab soup

(Photo credit: from Diane at White on Rice)

There’s something really beautiful about having the confidence and skill to improvise. Musicians do it when they see beyond the black notes on a chart and close their eyes to jam. It’s the same with creating something impromptu in the kitchen; it comes when the cook understands more than just the basic chemistry of cooking and ratios and starts to feel their way into a never-before-created dish.

Like a musician that can hear a tune unwind in their head, a chef must be able to cook and taste a dish before ever slicing into product or turning on the stove. The day I cooked crab soup from beginning to end without ever boiling a pot of water, was the day I realized I had started to think like a chef.

Take me to the bridge!

I have my friend Chef Brian—sous chef of Hatfield’s restaurant–to thank for my recent transformation. Over the past year he’s taken me under his wing, described the way he creates dishes and has talked me through the way prepares every ingredient. Thanks to his willingness to share culinary secrets, he’s given me information that can only learned by spending thousands of hours in the kitchen.

I recently invited a handful of my very best culinary friends to our Los Angeles apartment for a night of eating. I couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate our love of food than with a casual dinner that celebrated the bounty of California’s farmers’ market featuring freshly caught Santa Barbara crab. With the Hungry Cat Crab Fest–one of my favorite LA dining events–as inspiration, I began to put together my menu.

Standing in the Hollywood Farmer’s Market I saw it all so clearly. I would serve a multi course dinner, starting with a cucumber and lime cocktail. I’d begin with a savory fruit salad (Suzanne Goin style), follow it with a Maryland-style crab soup and corn bread, and finale with a huge Santa Barbara rock crab, mallets and plenty of corn on the cob. I felt confident about the salad and the simple boiling of the crab and ears of corn–but the soup was a different matter completely.

I didn’t have a recipe, nor any hope of finding one. I asked my boss (Suzanne Goin herself) if she had a copy of her husband—Chef David Lentz‘s—soup recipe but she didn’t. Oddly confident I thought, I can figure this out.

I began to doubt my abilities the moment after I had navigated through the crowded Hollywood Farmers Market with bags stuffed full of fresh produce and angry Santa Barbara crabs. Suddenly my mind was flooded with an imagined future of disappointed food bloggers politely eating a watery crab soup.

Just as I was at my lowest low, the culinary gods smiled upon me as I stumbled across the path of smiling Chef Brian—a Maryland native and crab expert.

“My god,” I gasped. “Can you tell me how to make crab soup?”

With my hands occupied with heavy sacks, he ran down the basic procedures of preparing a Maryland crab soup. Unable to take notes, I visualized the cooking of the crab, the messy job of pulling out the crustacean’s sweet meat, the sautéing of the shells and cooking the bodies down with mirepoix to create a rich stock. I saw it all as I repeated the steps all over again at the stove. Thanks to Brian’s advice and my newfound confidence, the soup was a huge success.

Like a family recipe that is shared through generations, this soup is created by feel and instinct. I offer you the recipe here, as it was described to me at the Hollywood Farmer’s market.

[print_link]
An Improvised Maryland Crab Soup
As shared by Brian Best, Hatfield’s Restaurant

4 large Santa Barbara Crabs
1 large bunch of carrots, peeled and chopped
1 large bunch of celery, chopped
3 large onions, chopped
6 ears of corn
fingerling potatoes (1-2 pounds), peeled and chopped into small pieces
2 small cans of tomato paste
2 dried ancho chili
2-3 tbl Harissa from a tube
Vegetable oil for cooking
Olive oil for cooking
enough water to cover the crabs
left over vegetable scraps or herbs

Crabs should be alive before you cook them. Leave crabs in the coolest section of the refrigerator until you are ready to cook them. Putting them in the freezer for 10 minutes before you cook them will make the cooking process less difficult for the crabs (and you).

Fill a large pot with water. Bring the water to a boil. Add the crab one at a time to make sure they are fully submerged in the water. Cook separately if necessary. Depending on the size of the crab, cook for 12-15 minutes but no more. Remove the crab from the water, let cool. Reserve the cooking liquid if possible.

Cover your worktable with newspapers. This is going to be messy. Using a mallet, hammer, or crackers, break the claws to reveal meat. Using chopsticks or picks, remove the meat. Put crab meat in one bowl and the shells in another. Rinse crab’s top shell of the dark internal liquid, as this juice will make the soup bitter. Break down the top shell with a hammer.

Using the same large pot, heat pot over high heat with a little vegetable oil. Add an acho chili or two, the crab shells and pieces. Stir crab shells frequently, making sure to heat all the shells evenly. The crab shells should start to smell of the sea, about 10-15 minutes.

In a separate pan, add half of chopped onion, carrot and celery to a hot pan with olive oil. Sautee down until the mirepoix ingredients begin to soften. Add to the sautéing crab shells. Add herbs and any vegetable scraps you may have. Add cooking liquid or water to the crab shells, being careful to add just enough to cover the shells. Simmer on stove for an hour. Taste. Drain the crab stock with the finest sieve you have. Cook down the stock for 30 minutes to an hour.

In your sautee pan, cook down the remaining mirepoix ingredients until soft. Add softened mirepoix and potatoes to stock. Remove the corn from the cob and add to stock. Add tomato paste, stir to dissolve. Add crab meat. Cook down for 30-60 minutes. Taste for seasoning. Add Harrissa if you desire more spice. Serve immediately or freeze.

Serve with cornbread.

July 23March 28

Chef Suzanne Goin’s Savory Fruit Salad Recipe

I love eating salads, don’t get me wrong. But when it comes to eating out, I skip the leafy greens for the instant gratification of ordering a complex entrée that takes just minutes to come to the table, rather than hours of preparation at home. When I go out I want to have fun. When I’m home I want to keep it simple.

Once outside of the restaurant–be it the one I’m working for or dining at as a customer–I find myself craving simple dishes. I long for perfectly composed salads and uncomplicated appetizers that I see service after service as I wait tables at Tavern.

Thanks to my job as a server for Nancy Silverton, I craved Italian antipasti for years. But now that I work at a new restaurant, I find my cravings are colored by the seasonal whims of my new boss, Chef Suzanne Goin. Her food is rustic, Provencal and thoroughly inspired by the market. Go to the market and it becomes clear why a warmed heirloom tomato, a crisp plum, the lingering flavors of a basil stem could inspire entire dishes on Suzanne’s menu. Her dishes reflect California’s bounty and an unabated passion for great ingredients.

A recent culinary revelation was recently delivered to me via a white plate at pre-service (a daily meeting before dinner service begins). Suzanne described the dish as a fruit salad. More savory than sweet, one perfectly balanced bite made it was clear this was no ordinary fruit salad. Suzanne’s greens were lightly tossed with vinaigrette—ingeniously made with left over basil stems and not-so-perfect plum pieces—and studded with just ripe stone fruits and Marcona almonds.

I’ve been craving it every since. This is my interpretation of her recipe, as prepared for my friends on a recent hot summer’s day. I omitted the nuts, but you can add those back in.

[print_link]Suzanne’s Fruit Salad

1 large bag of mixed greens
1 head of radicchio
1 head of frisee
3 large plums, dark purple and heavy with juice
2 large peaches
2 large nectarines
2 small Geo plums (or a tart, crisp varietal)
1 small bunch of grapes
4 branches of thyme
2 branches of basil
3 oz. red wine vinegar
1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil
1 small tangerine, juiced
salt and pepper

To prepare the plum vinaigrette:

Staying close to the seed, slice the stone fruit so that you have two perfect rounds per fruit. Slice the fruit “cheeks” into consistent sized slices. Set aside.

Cut the remaining fruit off the seed of each fruit, being careful to save the uneven pieces for the vinaigrette. Place the random pieces into mortar and crush, being careful to extract as much fruit juice as possible. Put the pulpy juice into a small bowl and add the olive oil, vinegar and tangerine juice. Remove the basil and thyme leaves from the stem. Muddle the herbs’ leaves and the basil stem in a mortar and pestle. Add to the vinaigrette, stir and taste. Add salt and pepper. Taste for balance. Add more acidity (in the form of more red wine vinegar or lemon juice) or seasoning if needed. Put in a jar and let sit for a few minutes. When ready to toss the salad, remove the basil stems.

To prepare the salad:

Chop the radicchio into small slices. Chop the bottom off the frisee and pull apart into individual pieces. Toss the radicchio and frisee into the greens. Toss the fruit with some of the plum vinaigrette in a separate bowl. When ready to serve, toss the greens with the plum vinaigrette, using the least amount necessary.

To compose the salad, place a heaping tablespoon of dressed fruit on a chilled plate, then top with greens. Add pieces of the fruit on top, being sure to drizzle some of the juice over the top of the final salad.

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.

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.

[print_link]
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!

April 1

April Fool In the Kitchen

Ask any of my friends and they’ll tell you I can’t lie. At least, I don’t have the skill to lie and get away with it. If there’s a practical joke being played on someone, I want to scurry over and give away the punch line before things get embarrassing.

Being an odd little kid on the playground (read: future writer) probably has a lot to do with my aversion to “little white lies“, bending the truth and practical jokes. The whole business twists up my insides and makes me feel down-to-the-core wrong. Which is why I am NOT posting an April Fool’s recipe. I’d rather contribute to keeping it real on April Fools day and avoid all the pranksters.

I offer you this beautiful, mouth pleasing butter lettuce salad that is perfect for staying indoors, eating healthy and avoiding the truth-bending fools.

This dish was inspired by a beautifully textured salad I had at David Lentz and Suzanne Goin’s Los Angeles restaurant, Hungry Cat. The mixture of market fresh ingredients and shirred eggs give this salad so much flavor and mouth-feel I’ve found myself thinking about skipping a main course and ordering another salad. Which I never do, because their entrees are way too good to ignore, but…

Turns out, making this salad at home is so easy and satisfying I really don’t need to eat anything else with it. I’ve modified this recipe for maximizing health benefits. If you don’t have a problem with cholesterol, feel free to leave the yolks in the hard boiled eggs.

[print_link]
Market Lettuce Salad with Shirred Eggs
Inspired by a dish at The Hungry Cat, Los Angeles

1 head of butter leaf lettuce (red leaf lettuce can be substituted)
3 radish, thinly sliced (use a mandoline for precision. The little radish tops will protect your fingers!)
4 tbsp flax seed oil
1 lime, cut in half for juicing
2 eggs, hard-boiled with yolks removed
salt (regular and Maldon) and pepper

Put 2 eggs in a saucepan and cover with water. Bring to a boil and then cover, turning off the heat. Let sit for 10-15 minutes and then drain and immerse in cold water. Remove shell of egg and yolks.

Meanwhile, pull apart the leaves of the lettuce. Wash the leaves well (immerse in water or rinse under faucet for several minutes) and spin to dry. Put the lettuce and radish in a big salad bowl and season dried leaves with a sprinkling of salt and pepper. Drizzle with flax seed oil and, using hands or wooden spoons, toss gently to coat the leaves with oil. Squeeze half the lime over the lettuce. Taste a saturated leaf. Squeeze more lime juice over salad if it needs more acidity. Taste again, adjust for flavor.

Using a cheese grater, shirr the eggs (grate the egg white) onto the salad. Plate, finish with a sprinkle of Maldon sea salt and serve.

March 28November 14

A Beet Recipe for My Mother

I became mortal last week. One phone call and one letter took away that lingering innocence of youth and reminded me that no one, not even myself, can live forever. Here, in the center of my being, is the undeniable understanding that every moment we have is precious; every morsel of food is important; and nothing is to be overlooked.

The phone call was from my mother. She just got the news that she had been diagnosed with breast cancer. Then, in what felt like seconds later, I received a letter from my doctor. My blood tests came back abnormal. I have high cholesterol.

The news effected me in unexpected ways. When I spoke with my mother, I found zen-like calm, hope and positivity for my mother’s recovery. I felt oddly at peace, without fear and satisfied with the idea that we will find a treatment that will heal her. And then, in the privacy of my own home, I openly mourned the loss of bacon in my life.

Goodbye Guanciale

My off-the chart 250 cholesterol number on the doctor’s letter read like a foodie death sentence. The letter suggested in detail I “replace butter with olive and canola oil…Replace red meat with fish, poultry and tofu…Limit foods with high cholesterol.”

I started freaking out. No more fearless consumption of fennel sausage pizza at midnight? No more bacon draped hamburgers for lunch? No chicken liver bruschettas as a quick mid-day snack? What about those yolk-dripping bacon and egg sandwiches I love so much? No more gobbling up the frosting-heavy corner piece of birthday cake?

I paced my apartment. I was a vegetarian once. I could do it again, right? But now that I know what I know, how could I turn my fork away from all those great foods I’ve come to love and build my whole life around?

The cure for cancer

It’s been days since we received her first diagnosis. There’s still so much we need to find out. But in the meantime my mother and our collective family have been doing our share of internet research. My mother doesn’t care much for “traditional” medicine. She fears the mainstream medical line of thinking and clings to the old ways of healing.

My mother says she can cure herself of cancer with the power of raw food. She says that with lots of whole grains, flax seed oil and raw fruits and vegetables she can bring healing to her body without the use of chemo. There are other people—beautiful young and thriving people like Kris Carr of crazy sexy life–who say such things are possible.

The idea of clean living through a wholesome, locally sourced diet of fresh fruit and vegetables makes sense to me. I’ve seen the awesome power of food. The farmers’ market is my church. But what I don’t understand is HOW raw food can heal cancer. Is the cancer that my mother has responsive to such dietary changes? Will she need other helping factors to make the cancer go away? Will she need estrogen therapy? Chemo?

These are questions that will take time to answer. There’s still so much to learn. In the meantime, I offer this recipe for my mother. Because it’s her favorite dish from when she visited Pizzeria Mozza. And she asked for it.

Mom: I know this isn’t a raw dish. But I did find a way to incorporate some flax seed oil and the flavors of the beets make me feel so alive. I know it will do good things–for both of us.

[print_link]
Beets in Horseradish
Inspired by a dish at Pizzeria Mozza
Makes 2 servings

1 small bunch of baby beets (golf ball sized)
1 tbsp flax seed oil
1 tbsp fresh horseradish
2 tsp white wine or champagne vinegar
1 tsp Dijon or whole grain mustard
Salt to taste

Preheat oven to 425º. Rinse beets well, dry. Place on a sheet pan and tent with tin foil. Roast in oven for 30-40 minutes, or until a knife easily slices through the beets’ center. Let beets cool.

When cool enough to touch, slip the skins off with your hands. Roughly chop the beats into small chunks. Should be about 1 ½ – 2 cups. Put beets in a mixing bowl and drizzle with the flax seed oil. Toss to lightly coat the beets. Using a wooden spoon, gently mix in horseradish, vinegar and mustard. The beets should have a slightly creamy look to them. Taste. Add salt, if needed. Adjust for taste.

Serve cold or room temperature. Perfect as a side dish (literally), since beets have a way of coloring everything they touch!

November 18January 4

How to clean and cook Dungeness crab

This week marks the beginning of San Francisco’s Dungeness crab season. Starting mid November and ending in May, you’ll find seafood lovers celebrating the return of their favorite 10-legged creatures with crab parties and a myriad of crab-centric meals.

If you’ve never split open a claw and tasted the bounty of this Northern California ocean treasure, it’s time to tie on a bib and get cracking. Once you get past the Dungeness crab’s hard shell, you’ll find its sweet white meat–delicate and undeniably decadent. How to prepare Dungeness crab is up to you, but many chefs agree: Dungeness crab meat is so tasty it shouldn’t be hidden underneath competing flavors.

Where to buy:
The best time for crab is in December and January, when supplies are plentiful and the meat is sweetest. Dungeness crab can be purchased live from your local fishmonger or bought pre-cooked at the market. Whole Foods Market currently offers whole, cooked Dungeness crab for $11.99/lb. *PS, if you’re buying Dungeness Crab from Whole Foods in Los Angeles, they get their delivery every Wednesday!

If you plan on buying your crab live and cooking it at home, make sure that the crustacean is alive when you buy it. To cook it, fully submerge the crab in a pot of boiling, salted water and cook for 10-12 minutes.

Prep made easy

The best place to prep Dungeness crab is outside. If you plan on making more than a few crabs (one large crab per person is a good idea), create a prep station in the back yard, near a hose. This is a great job for kids or curious adults eager to pull up a lawn chair and get their hands dirty. You’ll need a bucket of water for cleaning, a container to hold the crabs and trash can to discard shells in.

You might even want to consider having a really tasty beer nearby.

Step 1: With the crab belly side up, pull off the triangular shaped belly flap, or apron.

Step 2: Turn over the crab and remove the top shell by inserting your thumb between body and the shell at the rear of crab. Pull up.

Step 3: Twist off claws and legs.
Step 4: Using a nutcracker or hammer, crack open the legs and claws.
Step 5: With the top shell removed, break off the hard mouth of the crab. Discard the colored connective tissue and the inedible, finger-like lungs surrounding the body.

Step 6: Rinse the crab thoroughly. The inside of the crab should appear mostly white, with only gems of pale meat and shell remaining.

Step 7: Using either a knife or your hands, split the body in half (vertically). Pick out the meat.
Step 8: Use a nutcracker or small hammer to crack open the leg shells.
Step 9: Pick out meat with a lobster pick, fork, or tip of a crab claw.

How to eat
To truly enjoy the flavor of Dungeness, serve it in the rough, with just the simplest of ingredients. Dip crab meat into warm butter, aioli (oil, egg, and touch of garlic for seasoning), or a spicy horseradish dip (add horseradish and soy to your favorite ketchup for an easy sauce).

And, if you’re looking for a fun way to keep clean, here is a beautiful and environmentally friendly alternative to pre-packaged wet napkins:

Citrus wipes
a fresh citrus and cucumber water for cleaning dirty fingers

3 lemons, thinly sliced rounds
2 limes, thinly sliced rounds
1 orange, thinly sliced rounds
1 cucumber, thinly sliced

Mix fruit in a large container. Add enough water to cover. Serve in a beautiful serving bowl or prepare individual finger bowls for guests. Present with cloth napkins.

Go on! Get some Dungeness crab and enjoy yourself!

PS, thanks to Chef Stephen Gibbs from Hands On Gourmet for showing me how to clean a crab!

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.

November 29January 3

A butternut squash obsession is born

Matt Damon, Paula Poundstone, Ted Kennedy, Janine Garafolo, and Dennis Leary are your typical New Englanders. They might not be California good looking, but they’re whipsmart and tough as nails. Which is probably why, as a born and raised New England girl, I feel such an affinity for Butternut Squash.

If there was any one vegetable that could represent a New Englander’s sensibility, it would definitely be the ever-reliable butternut. Hearty, thick-skinned and slightly awkward, the butternut squash is undeniably bright and sweet. With sunset orange meat, its straightforward flavor is a perfect counterpoint to its hearty packaging. This tough on the outside, tender on the inside little vegetable saves the traditional Thanksgiving meal of stuffing, gravy and turkey from being nothing but a blur of woodsy browns and earthy tans. Get to know the butternut squash and you’ll suddenly realize, like any other good New Englander, it’s a real charmer.

A LIFE CHANGING EXPERIENCE

Imagine my surprise, after a lifetime of eating baked and puréed squash, to discover a whole new way to eat Butternut. I was on my honeymoon in Italy when it happened. It was lunchtime in Montepulciano and My husband and I avoided the tourist trap restaurants with English menus in the windows and searched for an eatery that catered to the locals. We were almost to the end of town when we found the Osteria Aquacheta, a quaint little restaurant owned by a food obsessed owner, in the heart of downtown Montepulciano.

We took a seat at one of the last paper-covered tables in the tiny dining room and ordered a pasta course and a primi course with some accompanying sides. Our meal started simply with ricotta stuffed ravioli in butter and a hearty ragu over pici (a local thick, round pasta). Our plates were cleared to make way for the primi course, or main dish. It was then that the pleasant waitress delivered the side dishes and the main course. Though there were beautifully sliced zucchini and a gorgeous braised beef in buttered breadcrumbs, I never noticed them. It was the side dish of Butternut Squash with Pecorino Fresca that held my complete attention.

If I remember correctly, I was speechless.

This is a picture of my dish before I devoured its hot, gooey deliciousness. The meat is tender but not overcooked. The sheep’s milk cheese’s buttery, earthy and nutty flavors compliment the sweetness of the Butternut perfectly without overpowering it. Olive oil, Butternut Squash and soft, fresh Pecorino baked together created a heavenly symphony of flavor. It was a revolution of simplicity. It was in that first bite of the layered squash dish that I really started to understand the understated elegance of Italian cuisine. Use fresh ingredients and get out of the way.

And in that moment, I was reborn.

As soon as my plane landed on November 8th, I’ve been working out the details of the recipe. I’ve tried Pecorino Toscana (nice nutty flavor, but too dry to cook with) and Ricotta Salada (looks creamy enough but doesn’t go gooey like it should) and found that really the only cheese that works is Pecorino Fresca, a hard to find, and slightly soft sheep’s milk cheese that is perfect for cooking.

After purchasing my Pecorino Fresca at the newly improved Joan’s on Third (Beverly Blvd., Los Angeles) and butternut squash from the Hollywood Farmer’s Market, I was ready to go. I made this for Thanksgiving and probably will for the rest of my life.

Butternut Squash Gratin

2 Butternut Squash cut 1 inch rounds from the neck of the squash. Reserve the bottom circles of the squash for another use.
½ lb Pecorino Fresca (cut into ¼ inch thick squared slices)
Olive oil to drizzle
Malden Sea salt

Preheat oven to 375. Peel the squash, cut into rounds and drizzle with a little olive oil. Use your fingers to coat every side of the squash rounds with the oil.

**If you like uniformity, use a can (coffee can? Soup can?) to make all the rounds the same size and shape.

Bake the squash rounds for 20-30 minutes or until the squash is nearly finished cooking. It will be tender to the touch of a fork. Set aside to cool enough to work with.

Now you are ready to bake the dish with the Pecorino Fresca. As if you were making lasagna, vary the layers of squash rounds and squares of pecorino fresca. Bake until the cheese is runny and gooey.

Turn the oven to broil and put the baking dish under the flames until the cheese is caramelized.

Enjoy. It’s a wicked good dish.