No Fail Potato Leek Soup Recipe

easy potato leek soup recipe

I’m not a chef, but I do spend a lot of time with professional cooks.

I work in a restaurant several nights a week and I like to show up early and take a few minutes of my off-the-clock time getting my bearings and observing the day’s activity in the kitchen. I pour myself a cup of coffee and watch the guys prep fish, squish hundreds of roasted potatoes, or pluck leaves of mint for what will become salsa verdes for the night’s service. It’s in these little moments of observing the pre-game prep, that I learn the big lessons about cooking.

Most servers don’t care for this sort of sideline observances. Maybe that’s why the chefs and prep cooks don’t mind as I watch them slice up chickens or brine pig’s heads. I have pretty good radar for annoyance, so I’m able to disappear the moment I see a flicker of irritation on a chef’s face.

In hanging around chefs, I’ve picked up lots of great tricks. But despite all the time I’ve spent with these men and women in chef’s whites,  I haven’t been able to get over my irrational fear of unknown ingredients and certain culinary techniques. One challenge I had to recently overcome is my ridiculous fear of leeks.

While most people eagerly snatch up bundles of leeks, I would walk past and pretend I didn’t care for them. I even feigned ignorance of this vegetable’s power to inspire culinary hysteria across France. I was that scared. But thanks to my wonderful friend, Leah and her You-Can’t-Screw-This-One-Up Potato and Leek Soup Recipe, I finally had myself a leek epiphany.

Continue for a No Fail Recipe for Potato Leek Soup! »

Food Blog Ethics: a personal manifesto that went viral

man on beach

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Overheard on the street

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is not what we are.

Keep clear

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

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

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

Food Blogger Code of Ethics

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Food Blog Code of Ethics

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

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

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

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)

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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.

Applese at SM Farmers' market

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.

pre-challenge marketing

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.

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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.

Cheese making

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.

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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.

Leah preps

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

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

Naked Pie: Caramelized apples with Calvados and Vanilla Ice Cream
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

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

Final Judgement

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.

Separated at Birth

Los Angeles Streets
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.

Los Angeles Streets

Employee’s New Years

If you work in the food service industry, chances are you work most holidays. Popular holidays like the Fourth of July, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Yom Kippur and in LA, the night of the Academy awards, are practically impossible to not work. So if you’re a traditionalist and insist on getting time off for all the major holidays you can most certainly can kiss your restaurant job good bye. Or you can suck it up, work the holidays, and schedule your life around the restaurant’s required hours of business. And so it goes. That’s just the nature of the food service business.

Most non-industry people see this way of thinking depressing/tradition ruining/frustrating, but I just see it as an opportunity to avoid preconceived notions, required moments of pomp, traffic and crowded shopping. Instead, every year I celebrate holiday MY WAY and on ANY DAY I LIKE.

So while Joe Public is getting messy drunk and spending way too much money on New Years because he feels he has to, Joelyne Server like me makes lots of money I can spend on a less pricey night with a million times less social stresses. Friday or Saturday night on the town with all the rest of the 9 to 5ers? No thanks! I’ll work on the weekends and forgo the line at the door for an amazing meal on the town on a quiet Monday night!

Which brings me to my point. Finally.

Since both my husband and I had to work New Years Eve at our restaurant jobs, we decided to celebrate the beginning of 2008 on first night of the New Year. Though I’m against celebrating big holidays with the masses, I am all about creating a great big traditional meal with friends. So while the rest of LA suffered through their lingering hangovers, husband and I were just gearing up for a night of incredible food and wine with our two wonderful foodie friends, Leah of spicysaltysweet and her boyfriend, Neal.


With the streets clear of drunken idiots and DUI searching cop cars, we were ready to enjoy ourselves.

NEW YEARS NIGHT MENU
Cotechino con lenticchie

With hearts set on making a traditional New Year’s meal, we decided to make Cotechino and Lentils. According to Mario Batali, Cotechino con Lenticchie is the most traditional dish of all Italian New Year’s dishes. The humble dish of pork, it is said, originated in Emiligia-Romana (while others say Modena) with the peasants who made the sausage from left over ends of a newly butchered pigs.

Quick to dive into research, I learned that Pellegrino Artusi, author of Italy’s first popular cooking book in 1891, believed that Cotechino was “not a refined dish” and was fit to be served only to very good friends who wouldn’t mind its rusticity. Undetered, by this information and descriptions of the sausage’s strange “tacky” texture (which comes from the gelatinous matter that is released from the pig skin component of the sausage), Leah and I went in search of Cotechino.

Though Cotechino is sold in two ways: pre-cooked and uncooked, I could only find the pre-cooked variety at local LA gourmet markets. The nice people at Froma on Melrolse sold me Umbrian black lentils and a reasonably priced pre-cooked l lb Cotechino sausage (Under $14). I skipped the $25 cotechino at Joan’s on Third I put my $$ towards a luxury bottle of $40 fresh pressed olive oil (harvested and pressed in October of 2007) from Gianfranco Becchina and a slice of Gorgonzola Torta (A layer “cake” of Gorgonzola and marscapone topped pine nuts).

On New Year’s day I arrived at Leah’s apartment with my ingredients in hand to cook our special meal together. While Leah rolled out her dough on the dining room table,

I started cooking the lentils.

Instead of following a recipe, however, I decided to go on instinct. Here’s what I came up with:

LENTILS

EVOO Olive oil (enough to coat the pan)
1 Onion (finely chopped)
1 Carrot (finely chopped)
A handful of sage
2 cloves of garlic
1 bag of Umbrian lentils (1/2 pound)
Chicken stock (2-3 cups)
1 tbl of tomato paste from a tube
¼ cup red wine vinegar
¼ cup fresh press EVOO
Salt

Chop the onion and carrot finely. Heat a large sautee pan on medium high. When hot, add enough olive oil to coat the pan. Add the finely chopped onion then carrot. Throw in the un-sliced garlic. Sautee down the onion and carrot until they become soft and transformed into cohesive, soft duo of texture. Add the lentils. Sautee for 3 minutes and then begin adding ¼ cups of chicken stock until the pan is filled with liquid. Allow to cook down and continue adding chicken stock and water from the cotechino pot (see below). Cook for 30-60 minutes, depending on the texture. The lentils are done when they are no longer al dente. Finish with vinegar and olive oil. Season to taste.

COTECHINO (pre-cooked prep)

Prick the Cotechino sausage with a toothpick and then drop into a pot of cold water. Bring the water to a boil—approx. 20-30 minutes. The sausage is done when it appears plump and a new shade of pink.

**Save the Cotechino water for adding to the lentils.
Slice the Cotechino and serve on the Umbrian Lentils. Serve with Mostarda di frutta or Salsa Verde (a sort of pesto of olive oil, parsley, garlic, S&P).

Our NEW YEARS MEAL:

Leah’s homemade ravioli (stuffed with Butternut squash, asiago cheese, and walnuts) and for later the Torta di Gorganzola

Cotechino and Lentils, Swiss Chard, Mostarda di fruita

Happy New Year!