Oh my, my. This morning I braved a prodigious line at La Brea Bakery and managed to secure the very last loaf of brioche. I had George behind the counter (he is the BEST) slice half of it, and leave the remaining half intact so as not to dry out. Tonight we’ll be having sliced brioche with a pot of foie gras that my parents brought down from Bouchon Napa Valley. The rest of the brioche will be hosting turkey/stuffing sandwiches on Friday. That is, if little Sabine (my parents’ new puppy) doesn’t make off with the brioche first…
Yes, our 10.5 lb Frank R. Reese Jr heritage bird is here, having winged its way to Windsor Square, Los Angeles, traveling untold distances from Good Shepherd Turkey Ranch in Tampa, KS. But not without first being delivered earlier this morning to the wrong address in another ZIP CODE, which necessitated The Foodinista driving to retrieve it from the 10th floor of a high-rise office building (thank you very little, Heritage Foods USA). Just as last year, the bird emerged from an insulated silver-lined flight vessel:
As you can see, the bird loves metallics. Here it is in the sink, post rinse:
Then, using Russ Parson’s dry-brining technique outlined in the Los Angeles Times, I mixed two generous tablespoons of kosher salt with some ground dried sage and cracked black pepper and sprinkled over the bird.
Then the bird goes into a turkey bag, and sits in the fridge until show time on Thursday…
I’m anxiously awaiting the delivery of our heritage bird via FedEx. Last year, it arrived wearing a silver Prada Sport-inspired aluminized bubble wrap to keep Tom cool. (And at those prices—$129 for a 10-12 lb bird—I hope it was Prada.) While we wait for this year’s fashionable arrival, let’s talk about what we’re going to drink on Thursday!
I’m torn because my father is a hard-core White Burgundy fan, and my sister is a Russian River Pinot Noir devotée. My husband likes California Chardonnay, and I’d rather be drinking Alsatian Riesling, but would be thrilled with a bottle of Lopez Heredia “Viña Tondonia” Rosado Rioja—an earthy, nutty and fruity Spanish rosé. In fact, Spanish wines in general—red, white, pink, bubbly—are a great choice for Thanksgiving since they have both that Old World minerality and earthiness, and that New World fruitiness. (For more on this, check out my Thanksgiving Wine piece in the November 2009 issue of Bon Appétit Magazine.) I was loving Lopez Heredia rosé all summer after my friend Dudley introduced me to it, and the love affair continues well into fall…
Of course, the one area on which we all agree is Champagne to start, particularly blanc de blancs, which is made with 100% Chardonnay grapes. I’m thinking either a Ruinart or Henriot would be perfect with the smoked salmon & crème fraîche app we’re planning. Cheers to Thanksgiving!
Their apartment is insane—killer moldings, vintage chandelier, a TURRET and a Juliet balcony, for crying out loud (I can’t even tell you how jealous I am about that turret). What you can’t see in the below photo of their balcony is that right behind the photographer is a freaking TURRET.
photo via designwatcher.com
Anyway, turrets and crown molding aside, I am newly obsessed with Crabbies, a delectable hors d’oeuvres served last night. It involves processed cheese, crab, English muffins and mayo. I mean, sign me UP. I’m proposing that we rename them Crackies, because they are that addictive. The recipe is a favorite with Matt’s family, and now with The Foodinista, who ate the lion’s share of these cheesy-crabby little devils last night. A perfect pairing with Shafer Merlot…
Here’s the recipe, straight from Matt’s mom, who was able to recite from memory over the phone:
“CRACKIES”
6 English Muffins, sliced in half
mix in bowl:
1 can of crab
1 jar of Old English cheese (nuke it for 15 secs to get it out of the jar easily)
1 stick butter, softened
1 tablespoon mayonnaise
1/2 teaspoon Season Salt
1/2 teaspoon salt
Spread on English Muffins, then put them in the freezer for 8 minutes (this allows it to harden a bit for easier slicing). Slice into 1/8s or 1/4s triangles. Put them on cookie sheet, and broil on high for 5-7 minutes depending on how well done you like your Crabbies.
Oh, and speaking of crustaceans, check out this guy, whom I found milling about by the stove…
By now I’m guessing most of us have settled on our menus for Thursday, but for those still looking for inspiration, here are some ideas of how my friends and family are spicing up the holiday table.
Geoff, screen writer: “We cheat on turkey, but it’s truly delicious. Greenberg Smoked Turkey. Slice and serve.”
Sara, fashion publicist: “I am BBQing my turkey – do it every year like my father did except that I don’t have to put a parka on every time I baste it. I make my father’s BBQ Sauce – RED RIVER that he created from his 1960’s cooking club. Makes an awesome smokey gravy too!”
Janet, food editor: Dry-brined turkey. “Just haven’t decided what way to go [with aromatics] – thinking rosemary, maybe ground fennel seeds….It’s so hard to decide these things!”
John, actor/writer: “We have a heritage turkey. I can’t wait to destroy it with a carving knife while everyone tries to smile.”
Kim, fashion editor: “A simple turkey breast for two using the same Thomas Keller roast chicken technique you detailed a while back. It just doesn’t get better than that!!”
STUFFING
Kate, writer/producer: “Chestnuts, breadcrumbs, sausage. And hard-cider gravy.”
Lisa, wine marketing: “I always do a version of this BA recipe [Apple & Sausage Stuffing]- I also add dried unsweteened cranberries!
Julie, agent: “I have the best stuffing recipe from my step dad a few of the key ingredients are – sausage, apples, apricots, spinich, apple juice, white wine… even better the next day on a stuffing / turkey sammie….”
Nicole, creative development: Her Italian grandmother’s stuffing—”French bread, celery, onions, mushrooms, herbs, butter, garlic, etc, etc. I love it.”
Carolynn, food writer extraordinaire: Check out her blog post on an AMAZING Sourmash Apple Crisp.
Joy and Michelle, Napa Valley natives, respectively: classic pecan and bourbon pecan.
Elissa, mother of four girls, with another baby en route!: “Here in TX it’s definitely pecan… but I’m thinking of adding a sweet potato pecan pie to the mix (thanks, epicurious)”
Jessica, actor/culinary student: “Classic pumpkin pie, Old Fashioned Apple pie with dried cherries and homemade vanilla bean ice cream.”
Andy, writer: “My wife’s mom makes a killer walnut pie … goes beautifully with a white port.”
Aunt Holly: classic apple pie from Grandma’s recipe.
Betsy, mother-in-law: My mother-in-law does two versions of pecan pie—a classic and a chocolate-pecan pie. She also sets a stunningly beautiful table with heirloom monogrammed silver, beautiful white/gold china and vintage amber Biot wineglasses. We’re so sad not to be sharing Thanksgiving with my in-laws! Sending much love from the left coast to the right. xoxo
Recently I left my full-time job at the world’s best food magazine, and am now working from home. My husband and I are debating whether or not we turn the guest room into an office—easy enough—or really go to town and convert the garage into a workspace, which would involve big-time construction. While we weigh the pros and cons, I’ve started thinking about office design. It’s no accident that Ana Wintour’s is so chic. Ditto for Mary Randolph Carter’s of Ralph Lauren (below). How could you not be inspired in one of these spaces?
photo via theselby.com
To that end I’m relying on my surroundings to imbue creativity. I would kill to have the George Nelson Roll Top Desk that graced my office at the Los Angeles Times Magazine many moons ago (not to mention the Eames management guest chairs—it’s nuts that that stuff was just kicking around the newspaper).
In doing a little research, buying a vintage one is going to run anywhere from $3,000 to $8,000. Something tells me Santa Baby isn’t thinking I’ve been that good this year. I’m also in love with this George Nelson Rectangular Work Table, which is equally dreamy and offers plenty of work space.
I’m thinking it will look great with an antique dark red persian rug I appropriated from my parents years ago. When it comes to chairs, I’m really torn—by price more than anything else. Of course, the fantasy has always been the Eames Aluminum Management Chair in Powder Blue leather. It’s also so chic in tan.
Or, until that ship comes in, what about the Setu Chair, also from Herman Miller? Similar lines, ergonomic design and a third the price:
Last night we went to my friend Andrea’s birthday party, for which the invitation beckoned “Learn how to make burrata. Or just eat it.” I’m pretty much in awe of what we witnessed last night, which started with Mimmo Bruno—who supplies all the better joints in town with burrata, and in fact is credited with bringing burrata to LA a decade ago—filling pouches of mozzarella with curd and runny cream imported from Parma. (To read more about Mimmo, check out Lesley Bargar Suter’s story in this month’s Los Angeles Magazine, page 136.) If you want to try some of Mimmo’s handiwork, Mozza2Go sells his formaggio, or you can order next door at the mozzarella bar. Words cannot describe how freaking fantastic burrata tastes at the hands of the master. Below: the curd, the cream, the hands, the man.
The birthday girl and our friend Carolynn assisted, as well as making some incredible peperonata (sweet peppers, onions, garlic), braised artichokes, pesto and an insane currant pine-nut relish from the book Carolynn co-authored with Mozza’s Nancy Silverton, A Twist of the Wrist. There was also a grilled beef tagliata inspired by Mozza’s dish. With friends like these, who needs dessert? (And of course there was dessert—a heavenly chocolate devil’s food cake with chocolate mousse layers from Susina Bakery on Beverly.) Here’s to wonderful friends old and new, to a beautiful evening, and an even more beautiful birthday girl! Happy Birthday, Andrea!
I don’t know about you, but I don’t give two figs that it’s November and we’re talking Margaritas. In California, the Margarita is a perennial favorite. And who better to wax poetic on the drink than modern-day flâneur David Lansing, who has kindly taken a break from his extensive travels and own excellent travel blog to share his recipe for a perfect Margarita. Trust me, people, he knows of what he speaks. It’s got me thinking…perhaps we’ll have a Margarita Smackdown this spring (in the tradition of this summer’s heated GUAC OFF). I already know the first three contestants: Lansing, of course; my third-generation New Mexican neighbor, Martha; and my friend Susan’s husband, Wylie, maker of the WP (aka Wylie’s Perfect Margarita). But while we mull the possible contenders, I give you David Lansing on this fine Friday…
The Goods / Photo by David Lansing
Having just returned from a month-long hiatus in Mexico, I have come to the conclusion that Mexicans no longer know how to make a proper margarita. At Ten Ten Pie in San Miguel de Allende I had to pry the bottle of Jose Cuervo gold out of Chema’s hand before he dumped the inglorious liquid into my glass. At El Sacromonte in Guadalajara I reveled in their chile en nogada while ignoring a large but insipid especial margarita that smelled of petroleum. And at Adriatico in Bucerias I got into an argument with my waiter for insisting that the bartender actually squeeze fresh limes for my drink instead of using some syrupy mix straight from Gigante. It’s triste, no?
A good margarita is one of those things that seems easy enough to make—like an omelette—yet so few people do it well. So let me tell you the key to making the perfect margarita: balance.
Have you read Michael Ruhlman’s book Ratio? If not, you should. It’s illuminating. Ruhlman posits that if you know the simple proportions of things like biscuit dough (3:1:2—3 parts flour, 1 part fat, and 2 parts liquid) it will, as he says, “unchain you from recipes and set you free.” Ruhlman doesn’t have a ratio for cocktails, but I do: 2:1—2 parts base to 1 part modifier. For instance, to make a Manhattan, dump 2 ounces of bourbon and 1 ounce of red vermouth in a shaker of ice, shake, and strain into a martini glass. What could be simpler? (By the way, to make a great Manhattan, take 2 ounces of an excellent bourbon, like Makers Mark, and add 1/2 ounce of red vermouth and 1/2 ounce of red Dubonnet—same ratio, better result).
For a cocktail like the margarita, which has more than one ingredient, you just expand the ratio. Here, you have a double base, tequila and lime juice, and two modifiers, Cointreau and simple syrup, so the ratio is 2:2:1:1—2 parts tequila, 2 parts lime juice, 1 part Cointreau, and 1 part simple syrup. (Another way to think of it is that the 1 part Cointreau is modifying the taste of the 2 parts tequila while the 1 part simple syrup is modifying the tartness of the 2 parts lime juice. So it’s still a 2:1 ratio.) This ratio alone would give you a margarita as good or better than any you’ve ever had. But now let’s make it even better. To do that we need to focus on our ingredients.
First of all, it’s imperative that you use a very good 100% agave tequila. That’s what we want to taste—that agave spirit. You can make a valid argument for using either a blanco or reposado. Thomas Schnetz of Restaurante Doña Tomás in Oakland, one of my favorite Mexican restaurants, insists on using a blanco tequila, El Tesoro, and I have no argument with that. Personally, I think a reposado brings out more of the roasted agave flavor, so that’s what I use. Centenario is my go-to tequila, but I also love El Tesoro or Siete Leguas when I can find it.
The lime juice is almost as important as the tequila. First of all, it can never come out of a bottle. If you have some sweet and sour mix in your fridge, like the unnaturally radiant green-colored Jose Cuervo Margarita Mix, I want you to go pour it on your blueberry bushes (they’ll appreciate the acidity). What you want are fresh limes. And not the big ol’ honking store limes the size of baseballs but the little Mexican limes (also called Key limes or bartender limes) the size of golf balls. These smaller limes are sweeter and not as acidic (and remember, it’s all about the balance). To get two ounces of lime juice, you might need to squeeze four or five limes, depending on the time of year they are harvested and the freshness of the limes.
Next comes the orange liqueur. Forget about Grand Marnier. It may make the “Cadillac” of margaritas, but do you drive a Cadillac? You do not. So don’t make a Cadillac margarita. Also avoid the cheap crap like Gran Gala. It’s yucky and will make your margarita taste yucky. Cointreau is great although I personally prefer the Mexican version, Controy. But you can’t buy Controy in the U.S. (the makers of Controy have a licensing agreement with the French producers of Cointreau which prevents the Mexican version from being sold in the U.S.—but next time you’re in Mexico, bring home a bottle of Controy and try it).
Finally, you will need some simple syrup. When in Mexico, I use a commercially produced version called Jarabe (which just means “syrup” in Spanish). It can’t possibly taste better than simple syrup you make yourself, but it does. Sort of how like Mexican Coke tastes better than U.S. Coke, I guess.
So now we’re ready to make the best damn margarita you’ve ever had. Get a martini shaker and fill it 2/3 with cubed ice (not crushed). Add two ounces of your most excellent 100% agave tequila, two ounces of fresh-squeezed Mexican lime juice, one ounce Cointreau and one ounce simple syrup. Shake. Strain into a margarita or martini glass, salted or not, as you prefer, and sip.
Ecstasy.
One last secret: The only way to make this cocktail better is to add a scant teaspoon of Princesa brand tamarindo jarabe de pulpa. You’ll have to sleuth around to find that, but if you get it, oh-my-god—you will have created la reina de margaritas. Now if it was only possible to get one this good in Mexico….—David Lansing
Okay, so apologies for the less-than-beguiling iPhone snap of last year’s Brussels sprouts (the photographer had perhaps been over-served in the Champagne dept). But trust me, they are just INCREDIBLE and will make a lover out of any Brussels sprouts skeptic. This recipe comes from my friend Carolynn, and we’ve served it for the past eight years at Thanksgiving dinner.
Brussels Sprouts With Fennel, Shallots and Walnuts
Serves 8
6 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 1/2 cups shallots, thinly sliced
2 small fennel bulbs, julienned
2 tablespoons sugar
2 pounds Brussels sprouts, trimmed and cut in half lengthwise
1 1/2 cups chicken stock
2 tablespoons walnut oil
2 tablespoons fennel greens, chopped
Kosher salt, to taste
Freshly ground black pepper, to taste
1 cup walnut halves, toasted
Melt butter in large saute pan. Add onions, fennel and sugar and saute until golden. Add Brussels sprouts and chicken stock and bring to boil. Reduce heat, cover and simmer until Brussels sprouts are tender, about 10 minutes (depending on size of sprouts). Add walnut oil and fennel greens. Simmer, uncovered, for 7-10 minutes. Season to taste with salt and pepper. To serve, toss with walnuts.
My friend Kathleen was so outraged by the new recommended guidelines for breast cancer screening for those under 50, that she did something about it. She says, “In response I did what any sane person would do, right? I created a nerdy t-shirt.” What’s awesome is that the shirts are selling like hotcakes, and have even gotten press in the LA Times. All proceeds from the t-shirts benefit the American Cancer Society. Kathleen, you ROCK.
Is it really possible that Thanksgiving is a week away??? I recently posted about our menu lineup and OH MY GOD cannot wait to try the updated version of Russ Parson’s “Judy Bird” that ran in today’s LA Times. Today I also made the executive decision to put in my order for gravy at Larchmont Larder, which is featuring a fantastic Thanksgiving menu avail for online ordering and delivery. It seems like the gravy always stresses me out since it is the last thing to deal with when I’m trying to get everything on the table. And this year I thought, why make myself crazy?
It’s funny because I’ve had conversations with two friends today—two friends who are really good cooks—who are on the fence about going to the trouble of cooking the entire meal. In years past, I might have viewed this (as well as ordering gravy) as blasphemous. But this year, there just seems to be general chaos. Is it just me? So why not fill in with a few fanatastic sides from the Larder and support a local business? I love how great owner Katie Trevino is, and the food is just plain GOOD.
I am just beside myself with excitement. To the point where I’m surely driving a dear friend totally mad. She and her husband just welcomed their baby daughter into the world, whose name I won’t share here (even though it is beautiful beyond belief) because she’s too much of a LADY to have her name splashed all over the internet. So, welcome, Little Lady! Little Lady came home from the hospital a few days ago, and for those of us who remember the first couple nights home with a newborn, feeding yourself is pretty much the last thing on your mind. Which is why a tuna noodle casserole—a grown-up version with sherry, shiitake mushrooms and fresh dill—is just what the doctor ordered. I made a double batch—one for Little Lady’s parents, and one for us. (It should have lasted us several nights, but Mr. Foodinista had thirds. Ahem.) So here’s to all things nostalgic like a good, old-fashioned tuna noodle casserole, and here’s to the future with new family and new beginnings!
I used this old Gourmet recipe for Tuna Noodle Casserole, from former senior food editor Miles Kemp Minifie, but made a few minor changes. First, I included some shiitakes for added flavour depth.
Also, I doubled the amount of tuna called for. And if possible, use Spanish Ortiz tuna in olive oil. Worth the splurge. And finally, I chopped up a handful of fresh dill and mixed it in with the noodles before baking. And then served with an herb salad (with more dill, and a Sherry wine vinaigrette) on the side. Goes down great with a bottle of Spanish Rioja red!
This weekend, my sister and I met our cousin Stefanie for lunch at a new café in Ocean Park called Thyme, which opened last month. It has sort of a Joan’s vibe with lots of white subway tile, charcoal accents and marble countertops. And the menu features similar fare, including a chicken taragon salad sandwich—which I tend to order whenever I see one. When I’ve gotten this at Joan’s, I’ve been disappointed by the bread, which tends to be on the dry side. Here at Thyme, every aspect of the sandwich was FANTASTIC. Smaller slices of hazelnut raisin bread, so a manageable sized sandwich, and with the perfect ratio of tarragon. I would (and now will) drive across town for this sandwich. My sister had an equally superb egg salad sandwich and Stefanie tried a trio of grilled salmon salad, orzo salad and a third that’s escaping memory (I think it involved snap peas?). And we each got mini cupcakes for dessert with some good, strong coffee. Please, please go check this place out and let me know what you order!
It was just lovely with a glass of 2004 Louis Roederer Rosé Champagne, served in some pink vintage coupes my friend Brooke gave me for Christmas several years ago. Crazily, Claire followed this generous act up with a totally decadent lunch on the patio at Spago. Generally I’m a little bah humbug about celebrating my birthday, but this old bird says THANK YOU to my wonderful famiy and fabby friends for making this one extra special! I’m one lucky girl.
The other night our friend Darris came over for dinner, slinging a bottle of fantastic 2004 Guigal Chateauneuf-du-Pape from the Southern Rhône region of France. I love this wine. The 2004 is comprised of 80% old-vine Grenache, 10% Syrah, 5% Mouvedre and 5% other varietals (the sum of which could be up to 13 different Rhône varietals) to create an earthy, seductive wine of great depth with spice and luscious plum flavors. Darris and I have known each other going on 19 years (gasp), and so it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that although he didn’t know what was being served he would have intuited the perfect wine to go with dinner, Chicken with Olives, Caramelized Onions and Sage, which we served with an Israeli couscous mixed with green lentils, cinnamon, nutmeg and cardamom. This meal is all about layering of flavors. First the chicken is seasoned with a sprinkling of tumeric, cumin and sweet paprika and then browned in oil.
Then red and yellow onions are sauteed in butter and simmered with white wine before going into the oven with the chicken, shallots, garlic, fresh sage leaves and assorted olives.
And while that bakes, make the couscous, which takes no time at all. It’s a riff on a Bon Appétit recipe for Bulgar and Green Lentil Pilaf, but I substitute Israeli couscous (aka toasted couscous or pasta pearls) for the bulgar wheat, which I “toast” first in olive oil in a skillet before adding to lentils to boil and absorb liquid. Spices are added in at the end along with some reserved sauteed onions from the chicken dish.
For best results, pepper heavily with good conversation, years and years of friendship and a lovely bottle of deepest red wine. Thanks, D!
Last night we went to a book party my cousin Stefanie hosted at the Jonathan Club for her dear friend Romesh Ratnesar, Deputy Managing Editor of Time magazine. He’s written a fascinating book, Tear Down This Wall(Simon & Schuster), on Reagan’s speech that effectively ended the Cold War. In addition to having won numerous journalism awards, run an annoying (I mean admirable) number of marathons, and being – um – 34 years old AND a great guy, Ratnesar is an impressive thinker and speaker—and Angelenos have the opportunity to hear him this Tuesday at the World Affairs Council at the Century Plaza.
I’ve always loved this Alessi tea kettle with the blue handle and a little red bird whistle, so was tickled to open a package from my parents containing one for my birthday. The bird looks great on top of our stove, which has dark red knobs and the blue handle speaks to some of the light blue accent pieces of Heath Ceramics in our otherwise french gray kitchen.
I have carried the same Louis Vuitton red epi leather wallet for over a decade—that is, I’ve bought the exact same wallet at least three times. Once, a brand new one was stolen off my George Nelson Walnut Roll Desk at the LA Times (the desk was an original from the 60s- some of the furniture at the newspaper was AMAZING), so my parents took pity and kindly bought another to replace it that year for my birthday, which brings the total to four. And I would have gone that route a fifth time, except that LV discontinued the simple, sleek design (square billfold, with three credit card slots on the left and a discreet coin purse inside on the right). I’m not crazy about wallets with a lot of hardware and compartments, especially cumbersome coin purses. So, for someone’s special day, my lovely and generous husband gave me this absolutely gorgeous Bottega Veneta classic woven leather wallet in lilac leather. It is soft beyond belief and the prettiest color. And it features a very discreet coin purse. So dare I say, change has never looked better!
A week ago I was driving past Sprinkles on Little Santa Monica, and kind of couldn’t believe that people were still lining up for these cupcakes four years down the road. Then, on Sunday night we celebrated my birthday a few days early with our friends Booth and Adam, who brought a gorgeous box of Sprinkles cupcakes: two each of red velvet, spice and peanut butter with chocolate sprinkles. All I can say people is wow. It’s easy to dismiss a cupcake as being overhyped, especially with the whole cupcake craze of the past few years, but there’s a reason people still wait in line for these. Also tucked in with the cupcakes was a gorgeous card Booth picked up in London, inside of which was my real birthday present: dinner for six at the Magic Castle! Ta-da!
We’ve certainly be hearing that the recession is over, but I for one have yet to personally experience that first hand so in the meantime I’m going to continue advocating pork butt. I mean, I bought an 8 pounder last week and it fed three adults for several dinners and as many lunches—and cost only $40, at Whole Foods no less. Of all our meals, my favorite was this incredible Carnitas Salad with Warm Cherry Tomato-Jalapeño Vinaigrette we had on Friday night. The inspiration came from the Jimtown Store Cookbook, which features a similar salad, but I think a copy editor was asleep at the wheel since several ingredients and steps are missing from the recipe as printed (but in general, this is one of my very favorite cookbooks). Never mind! Here’s our version, based on what we had in the fridge and a few blanks filled in, and it was fantastic.
Carnitas Salad with Warm Tomato-Jalapeño Vinaigrette
Serves 4 as main course
1 lb leftover carnitas from enormous slow-roasted pork butt
1/2 lb green beans, trimmed
1-2 poblano chiles, roasted, peeled, seeded, deveined, and chopped
3/4 lb red-skinned potatoes
1 yellow pepper, finely diced
1/3 cup red onion, diced
1/4 cup scallions, chopped
1/4 cup corn oil
1 jalapeño, seeded, deveined and finely chopped
1 lb cherry tomatoes
3 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
1/3 cup chopped cilantro
1 teaspoon kosher salt
Freshly ground pepper
Bring a medium pot of salted water to boil. Add green beans and cook until beans are tender, about 3 minutes. Drain and transfer to bowl of ice water. When cool, drain and pat dry.
In another pot, cover potatoes with cold water and bring to boil. Lower heat and cook, partially covered, until potatoes are tender, about 15-20 minutes. Drain and cut potatoes into chunks.
While potatoes are boiling, make vinaigrette in a skillet. Heat oil over moderate heat, add tomatoes and jalapeño and cook, stirring once or twice, for 4 minutes. Add vinegar, cilantro, salt and pepper, and bring to simmer. Cook, stirring once or twice, another 3 to 4 minutes.
In a large bowl, combine all vegetables, pulled pork and toss with warm vinaigrette. Serve. Leftovers of salad are great rolled up in a tortilla with avocado slices for lunch the next day!
Last week over lunch at Café Midi my sister was tempted to order the French onion soup. It isn’t their most winning menu item, so I suggested that instead we try making our own for dinner on Saturday night (taking a page out of Julia Child and a break from the week of pork – more on that later).
We went to Surfas where we picked up some Gruyère—a cheese so extravagant that I was compelled to rip the $23 price tag off it before my husband came home, only to blurt out a confession moments after he walked in the door because (a) I went to Catholic school and can’t stand the guilt and (b) am the world’s worst liar. Oh and (c) it’s not nice to lie to your husband, for better or for worse, etc!
This soup’s superb complexity comes from a couple hours of slow-cooking onions and simmering. And of course the quality of ingredients. I used vermouth instead of white wine and equal parts veal stock and beef stock for added richness, also picked up at Surfas. I love using vermouth; it gives that nostalgic note that reminds me of my grandmother’s best dishes, which I’m guessing relied heavily on Julia.
And then, the best part: that nutty, slightly sweet Gruyere that I could (and did) eat all on its own. Here’s Julia’s recipe. Follow it to the letter of the law and you seriously won’t believe that something this good could come from a home kitchen.
For 6 to 8 servings [Foodinista's note: this serves more like 4 as a main course]
The onions for an onion soup need a long, slow cooking in butter and oil, then a long, slow simmering in stock for them to develop the deep, rich flavor which characterizes a perfect brew. You should therefore count on 2 1/2 hours at least from start to finish. Though the preliminary cooking in butter requires some watching, the actual simmering can proceed almost unattended.
1 1/2 pounds or about 5 cups of thinly sliced yellow onions, plus 1 tablespoon grated onion
3 tablespoons butter
1 tablespoon oil [Foodinista note: used olive oil]
1 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon sugar (helps the onions to brown)
3 tablespoons flour
2 quarts boiling brown stock [Foodinista note: used 1/2 veal stock + 1/2 beef stock]
1/2 cup dry white wine or dry white vermouth [Foodinista note: used dry vermouth]
Salt and pepper to taste
3 tablespoons cognac
12 to 16 slices French baguette cut 3/4- to 1-inch thick
2 ounces Swiss cheese cut into very thin slivers + 1 1/2 cups grated Swiss cheese
Cook the sliced onions slowly over low heat with the butter and oil in a heavy-bottomed, covered saucepan for 15 minutes.
Uncover, raise heat to moderate, and stir in the salt and sugar. Cook for 30 to 40 minutes stirring frequently, until the onions have turned an even, deep, golden brown. Sprinkle in the flour and stir for 3 minutes.
Remove from heat, and blend in boiling stock. Add wine or vermouth, and season to taste. Simmer partially covered for 30 to 40 minutes or more, skimming occasionally. Correct seasoning. Add cognac, 1 tablespoon grated onions, and 2 ounces cheese slivers.
While soup is simmering, make croutons by placing bread in one layer in a roasting pan and bake in a preheated 325-degree oven for about half an hour, until it is thoroughly dried out and lightly browned. Halfway through baking, brush with olive oil. After baking, each piece may be rubbed with garlic.
Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Pour soup into ramekins or oven-proof bowls. Float rounds of toasted bread on top, and sprinkle grated cheese over.
Bake for 20 minutes, then for a minute or two under broiler to brown the top lightly. Serve immediately with a glass of red Burgundy. We went with a 2007 Drouhin Côtes-du-Nuits Villages at a relatively cheerful $19.99.
…I packed into a ‘93 Infiniti and moved from a beautiful Russian Hill apartment overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco into The Oakwood corporate housing—which featured a mirrored murphy bed and was teeming with child talent rehearsing songs from Annie in the common walkways—to take a job as a style editor at the Los Angeles Times Magazine. Things were different then. For starters, there was a Los Angeles Times Magazine. And like many of us raised in the Bay Area, I had preconceived notions about L.A., almost all of which, I’m happy to say, were wrong. I never imagined I’d still be here a decade later, nor that after 10 years I couldn’t imagine myself living anywhere else (despite occasional fantasies of a swank pad in Belgravia or a modest casa on Lake Como; a girl can dream). Here is a short list of reasons why you’ll have to drag me kicking and screaming from the City of Angels:
1. Langer’s. The #19 sandwich and a celery soda. Enough said.
Langer's #19
2. The Beverly Hills Hotel. If you need a reason to fall in love with The Pink Palace all over again, rent one of my all-time favorite movies, California Suite. It is every bit as relevant 31 years later, from driving to the Valley for the best sushi to capturing LA at its elegant if absurd best. If you need another reason, rent either Designing Woman with Gregory Peck and Lauren Bacall or Robert Evans’ The Kid Stays in the Picture for awesome scenes at the city’s best hotel pool. I used to go there on Monday nights for a drink and to listen to my former neighbor play piano in the Polo Lounge. More recently, it’s where I got my husband’s wedding band in the little Asprey shop tucked downstairs.
3. Lonnie Bishop / Neiman Marcus Shoe Salon, Beverly Hills. Lonnie has a preternatural ability to catalog one’s entire shoe collection, and never suggests a shoe resembling anything you already own.
4. Loteria. The best Mexican restaurant in LA prides itself on not offering a combo plate. Sidle up to the taco bar on a Friday night at the Farmer’s Market location and try any of number of tempting tacos and sauces , or head into the newer Hollywood location where you can order a first-rate margarita and my very favorite spicy Tacos de Camaron with avocado and crema. Amazing. The Chicarron de Queso (griddle-toasted cheese) is pretty epic, too.
5. The neighborhood farmers markets. Pretty much every neighborhood has a weekly, year-round farmer’s market that reflects the distinct personality of the neighborhood. You can’t beat the Santa Monica Farmer’s Market, and when I’m training with my running group on Saturday mornings out at the beach, I always stop by after before hitting Santa Monica Seafood. But most weekends, you’ll find us at our neighborhood Larchmont Farmer’s Market (where a gent plays reggae for the kids) unless we need something a little harder to find, in which case Hollywood Farmer’s Market is the bomb.
Multi-hued cauliflower at the Larchmont Farmer's Market
6. The Original Farmer’s Market. The Farmer’s Market has stood at Third and Fairfax for 75 years. It is also where my father, that rare breed of native born-and-bred Angeleno, went as a kid. In addition to the tacos at Loteria, I am crazy about the buttery hamburger buns at Thee’s Bakery and the alpha and omega of hamburger meat, Nancy’s Blend at Huntington Meats.
7. Rodeo Drive Chandeliers. During December, a million dollars worth of chandeliers light up Rodeo Drive. Pure magic.
8. Chris Burden’s “Urban Lights.” I think there is little more beautiful than the dramatic installation of 200 vintage Southern California street lamps in front of the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. Day or night, they’re spectacular. I make a point of driving home via Wilshire at night just to see them.
9. Yang Chow. I don’t pretend that this is the best Chinese food in LA, but it is my favorite. Every year we get tickets to several Lakers games with our friends Booth and Adam, and before each game we all meet at Yang Chow for Slippery Shrimp and Green Beans with Minced Pork. We try to sit in William’s station. He is a huge Laker’s fan, and is often wearing a team tie. In fact, guess where we’re going tonight? Let’s go, Lakers!
10. The Hollywood Bowl. My father took his dates to the Hollywood Bowl in the 60s and really, is there anywhere more romantic? Grab a picnic and a bottle of wine, and head for the ‘Bowl. Fireworks may ensue.
But of course the very best thing about LA, and the most unexpected part of living here, are the incredible friends and colleagues and colleagues who are friends whom I’ve come to know over the past ten years. So here’s to you, you know who you are! And thank you for making LA a place I am proud to call home.
Honorable mention: Mikawaya mochi and Daikoku Ramen in Little Tokyo, omakase at Sushi Ike, Surfas, The Cheese Store of Beverly Hills, hiking or hitting golf balls in Griffith Park, the steamed red curry with seafood at Yai Thai, Book Soup, Harry Winston, reserved seating at Arclight Cinema, sandwiches from John’s Garden and eating them across the PCH under an umbrella at Malibu Lagoon Beach, the view from the gardens at The Getty, Disney Hall, OK Store on Third, running with the LA Leggers at the beach before dawn on Saturday mornings, Dodger dogs, the clam pizza at Mozza, the Triumvirate (Barneys, Saks, Neimans on Wilshire), KPCC, and margaritas after work across the street with my neighbors Alyssa and Martha are RIGHT up there.
Addendum: Cannot believe I forgot to initially include: the Lakers, of course! I’ll be the one in the Pau Gasol Sunday whites jersey at tonight’s game…let’s go, Lakers!
Earlier this week, I slow-roasted an 8lb pork shoulder (aka Boston butt) forever, resulting in the best, most tender and rich pork I’ve yet to enjoy. And it couldn’t have been easier. We’ve already had two nights of AWESOME leftovers for three slightly piggy adults, and still have enough for several more meals. At least. So, at $4.99/lb, this roast was something of a steal. The first round of leftovers was inspired by a favorite slow-roasted heritage pork panini at Napa Style in Napa Valley. Taking a page out of chef Michael Chiarello’s book, I had my husband stop by Mozza2Go to pick up a jar of mostarda (an Italian riff on chutney made w/ pear and mustard). Of course, being too generous to say anything until he got home, he bought the damn jar, which cost NINETEEN DOLLARS. I mean, that is half the price of the freaking pork butt.
But begrudgingly—and I mean begrudgingly—I admit it was incredible on the sandwich. As well it should be at prices that rival gold. I lightly toasted some potato buns from Ralph’s, where we also picked up a bag of pre-shredded slaw and mixed with mayo & apple cider vinegar.
And then reheated the pork in a 300-degree oven for 10-15 minutes, and piled it high topped w/ slaw on the sandwich. I’m guessing we will be porked out by the time we’ve reached the end of the bounty, but next time I’d love to try this with a bone-in heritage Boston butt, though it’d be almost triple the price. Hmm…Santa, baby?
Check out my friend Oscar’s redesigned blog, …to the Sublime, which he tells me now features “maximum strength brightening power and consumes 47x its own weight in excess stomach acid.” Awesome. It also includes streaming audio, so you can listen to the songs he’s writing about. For music lovers, this is the ultimate in discovering or rediscovering new, old, forgotten and found music through the lens of one of the coolest dudes I know. Who also happens to know what he’s talking about. (Increasingly rare in the blogosphere.) Oscar was arts editor at the Los Angeles Times before becoming editor of its Daily Calendar section, and went on to found the much-missed Tu Ciudad magazine. Check out his review of Rickie Lee’s new album by clicking HERE.
Can you believe that Thanksgiving is a mere three weeks from tomorrow? I was reminded of such while reading a great article in today’s Los Angeles Times by Russ Parsons, which compares how all the food magazines are handling Thanksgiving. Over at The Foodinista’s, here’s how we’re handling the menu, and it’s looking a lot like this:
Roast Salted Turkey: Known in foodie circles as The Judy Bird, this recipe was published several years ago in the LA Times by Russ Parsons, who was inspired by his friend chef Judy Rodgers of Zuni Café in San Francisco. It’s a dry-brine technique that results in the world’s juiciest bird. Parsons suggests three days of dry brining in the fridge, but we will have to settle for two since our Heritage Turkey arrives on our doorstep on Tuesday, 11/24. So excited!!!
Cornbread and Escarole Stuffing: Indulgent and rich, with fresh ricotta, prosciutto and parm balanced by bitter escarole and toasty pine nuts.
Gravy: I usually do a simple pan gravy, but this year I might go easy on myself and pick up some house-made gravy from the Larchmont Larder. Sacrilege or smart?
Mascarpone Mashed Potatoes: A dollop of mascarpone adds creamy decadence to the classic.
Butternut Squash Purée: My mother makes this comforting classic, which has been featured on her family table for more than half a century.
Brussels Sprouts and Walnuts with Fennel and Shallots: A recipe from my super-talented friend Carolynn Carreño, who wins James Beard Awards and authors cookbooks with the likes of Nancy Silverton. We’ve been using this recipe of Carolynn’s at our Thanksgiving table for almost the past decade. I’ll post it soon.
Cranberry Sauce: We’ve never quite settled on one we love, and so this year I’ve charged my friend Vincent, who is joining us!, with finding the ultimate in tartiness, a challenge to which he will undoubtedly rise and surprise.
Pumpkin Pie: My sister is a genius with piecrust. With a little coaxing, perhaps she will share her secret before the big feast. What I can tell you is that she makes beautiful leaves from leftover dough and uses them to decorate the edge of the piecrust.
Bourbon-Pecan Tart: From the November issue of Bon Appétit, this looks amazing. My husband’s family only serves pecan pie (two versions of it) at Thanksgiving, so this one’s for him—unless, that is, I can get my mother-in-law to part with her excellent recipe.
Okay—one final question. Do I need another veg? I hate salad at Thanksgiving. Ditto on peas. Plus, in addition to the Brussels sprouts dish, I figure the stuffing has escarole. But should I be thinking along the lines of adding sautéed kale or broccoli rabe? Maybe green beans and shallots?
We are going on Day Three of the entire family being wiped out by Tiny G’s cold. It’s a killer, and demands comfort food so the first night we ordered extra spicy Thai curry, the next it was chicken noodle soup, and then today I threw an 8-pound pork butt into the oven and slow roasted it for almost seven hours. I used another flawless recipe from Bruce Aidells that ran in Bon Appétit last year. There was pretty much zero prep other than throwing a few things into the food processor to make a garlicky salsa verde to spoon over. Quite by accident [read: I was totally spaced out on cold meds and not paying attention], I tripled the garlic in the salsa verde. You don’t need to do that. But I’m certainly breathing [fire] a lot better now. You won’t believe how easy and how satisfying this is. Just rich, decadent goodness topped with a bright, fresh Italian parsley salsa. Total prep time for pork and salsa? Maybe 10 minutes. Tomorrow night I’m thinking pulled pork sandwiches for dinner, maybe with some mostarda if I’m up to swinging by Mozza2Go….we’re happily going to be eating pork for days to come.
The pork gets a spice rub (chopped rosemary & sage, some garlic, salt and pepper), and then goes into a 450-degree oven for 20 minutes. Then you cut the heat to 300 and roast until a thermometer reads 185 degrees.
As for the salsa verde, throw some chopped Italian parsley, garlic, anchovies (I didn’t have any so used a healthy squirt of anchovy paste), lemon juice and zest and some more rosemary and sage into a food processor, along with some red wine vinegar. Then, while food processor is running, add a stream of olive oil and THAT’S IT. Huge payoff, next to no effort. And sure to get the troops back on track.
I’m getting really excited for Thanksgiving, every part of it from sitting down to eat with our nearest and dearest to picking which wine to pour to setting the table. A few weeks ago I found these seashell place card holders at Maison Midi on La Brea—six for $16.95. I got two sets. Each shell is different, and I love how they manage to be both casual and formal at the same time. The shells are so pretty on the table against these beautiful antique silver salt cellars from my mother-in-law.
Fans of Arrested Development and Carl Weathers will no doubt agree that it’s officially that time of year to get your stew on. The other day, I riffed on Carbonnade a la Flammande—a Belgian beer stew—using a recipe fromThe Jimtown Store Cookbook for inspiration. Theirs includes bacon for smokiness and parsnips and carrots for sweet depth of flavor. You won’t believe how fantastic the house smells while this bakes in the oven for hours on end.
Stout Beef Stew
Adapted from The Jimtown Store Cookbook
Serves 4
10 ounces slab bacon, trimmed and cut into 1/2-inch cubes
3/4 lbs yellow onions, sliced 1/2-inch thick and separated into rings
2 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 cup unbleached all-purpose flour
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1 1/2 lbs beef chuck, cut into 1 1/2-inch cubes
6-8 ounces stout (I used Guinness from a large bottle, and drank the remainder while cooking)
1 cup water
Leafy tops from rib of celery
3 springs fresh thyme
Bay leaf
8 whole black peppercorns
5 ounces red pearl onions, blanched and peeled
1 large carrot, chopped
2 parsnips, trimmed, peeled and cut into 3/4-inch pieces
Position rack in middle of oven. Preheat oven to 275 degrees.
Heat a Dutch oven over medium heat. Add bacon, onions, olive oil. Cook, uncovered, stirring occasionally, until onions are tender and caramelized, and bacon is browned (but not burned), about 10 minutes. With a slotted spoon, transfer onions and bacon to bowl.
On a plate, mix together flower, pinch of salt and cracked black pepper. Dredge half the beef cubes in seasoned flour; shake off excess. Cook beef in bacon drippings, turning occasionally until well-browned, about 7 minutes. With slotted spoon, transfer to bowl with onions and bacon. Repeat dredging and browning with remaining flour mixture and beef.
Return beef, bacon, onions, and any juices from bowl to casserole and set over medium heat. Add stout and 1 cup of water.
(Yes, I totally need a new manicure.) Wrap up celery leaves, thyme sprigs, bay leaf and peppercorns in a small cheesecloth bundle and tie with string.
Add this to casserole. Stir in 1/2 teaspoon salt and 1/2 teaspoon pepper. Bring to a simmer, cover and set in oven. Bake for 2 hours, stirring every 30 minutes.
Stir the pearl onions, carrots and parsnips into stew.
Continue to bake, covered, stirring every 30 minutes until the vegetables and meat are tender, about 3 hours, adding a splash more beer or water if stew is reducing too quickly. We enjoyed this rich, comforting stew over buttered egg noodles. It would also be killer spooned over mashed potatoes. And baby, you got a stew goin’!
Ever since our favorite Indian place changed ownership, we’ve been trying new places and coming up short. Which forced me to face my fear of cooking Indian. Recently, I had great luck with a Chicken Tikka Masala recipe from Cooks Illustrated, and last night my sister tackled Sag Paneer.
We picked up the ghee (South Asian clarified butter, slightly nuttier than butter you clarify at home) at Whole Foods, and found paneer at New India Sweets & Spices, an Indian grocery on Fairfax with exceptionally friendly service and a great selection. My sister then used a recipe adapted from The Art of Indian Vegetarian Cooking, and I sous-cheffed. The reader who was incensed by my impressions of the Larchmont Bungalow might be pleased to know that I got nailed on my forehead by spattering ghee. It hurt. But one taste of this creamy, subtly spicy, nutty, fresh sag paneer, and the ghee incident was immediately forgiven—if not forgotten.
½ inch piece of fresh ginger root, peeled and sliced
¼ cup water
½ teaspoon ground coriander
½ teaspoon turmeric
½ teaspoon ground cumin
¼ teaspoon paprika
6 tablespoons ghee
Paneer cheese, 8-10 ounces cut into 1/2-inch cubes
2 lbs fresh spinach, washed, trimmed and finely chopped
½ teaspoon garam masala
1 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons of cream cheese, cut into pieces
Splash of heavy cream
Place chiles, ginger and water in blender and purée. Add coriander, turmeric, cumin and paprika and pulse to blend well. Set aside.
Heat the ghee in a skillet over moderate heat until hot but not smoking. Carefully add the paneer cheese and fry for about 5 minutes, constantly turning the cubes to evenly brown them on all sides. When the cubes are golden brown, remove with a slotted spoon and set aside.
Carefully add chile mixture to the hot oil and then add the spinach leaves. Reduce the heat slightly, cover, and cook for 8 minutes. Using two forks, turn the spinach over so that the cooked leaves on the bottom change places with the leaves on top. Cover and cook for another 8 minutes.
Add the garam masala, salt, paneer, cream cheese and a splash of heavy cream. Cover and continue to cook for about 5 minutes. Stir well before serving.
Last week, my sister and I decided to give Larchmont Bungalow a go despite the hate email being circulated amongst neighbors and the fact that one such neighbor accosted us on the way in and snapped disapprovingly, “well, you gotta do what you gotta do.” So I was determined to like this place, if only out of spite. My first visit was just okay, and I figure they still need to work out some service kinks. The burgers were fine (Claire got one with mozzarella and I ordered a stuffed turkey burger) and the buns very good—love the oniony herb situation baked into the top—but both burgers were totally lacking in goop. How about some aioli or something? Anything? Also, Claire ordered the sweet potato fries and they came without any dipping option. Again, a little green goddess or garlicky aioli or even plain old mayonnaise would go a long way here.
Then on Friday, my friend Katie and I made a repeat visit. We both ordered veggie burgers, which are not veggie burgers as we discovered when they arrived at our table despite the menu indicating otherwise, but portabella burgers. (“Our all natural veggie burger layered with goat cheese, grilled portabella, roasted bell peppers, tomatoes, and spinach.” Sounds like there’s a patty involved, right?) Again — needs some sort of sauce. And Katie’s sweet potato fries were dry and soggy—which is something of a feat to achieve. The guy at the next table ordered the neon red velvet pancakes (which just sounds gross, so really he had only himself to blame) and declared them “disgusting” after one bite. I want to like this place, so but I think I’ll give it a few more weeks to hit its stride before going back and risking ostracism from my neighbors. Especially with burgers starting at $12.95 and up. And yeah, the owner is being kinda jerky about city zoning. But if they do indeed get a beer license, who am I to judge?
In the meantime, Katie and I will be taking our weekly lunch date back to Larchmont Larder up the street, which has the friendliest staff and SUPER FREAKING YUMMY EGG SALAD! (And a Swiss Barley and prosciutto soup that is to die for.)
For Halloween, my father sent my sister and I a little treat from our hometown, St. Helena. We’re talking about a box of four evil little cookies called “Caramel Helenas” (so-named for the town) from Woodhouse Chocolates. One of the chocolatiers at Woodhouse, in fact, calls them “evil, as in you crave them day and night evil.” These little devils involve a buttery layer of caramel between two almond crisps, covered in chocolate and then sprinkled with fleur de sel. Sweet, salty, chewy, crispy evil! The salt is really what gets me—just divine. You can order a box by clicking here, and do yourself (if not your waistline) a favor and snap up some of their heavenly salt caramels. Thanks, Dad!!!!
This weekend, our dance cards are full with Halloween bashes. Tomorrow afternoon, Tiny G has been invited to his girlfriend Hazel’s for a costume party. He is going as a bumble bee. Then tomorrow night, our friends Booth and Adam are hosting a spooky soirée to which my husband and I are going as Donald Sutherland and Jane Fonda, respectively, from Klute (1971). I was so inspired by a Uniqlo corduroy jacket my husband wears in heavy rotation, which, when teamed with a cashmere turtleneck, makes him look either like John Updike or Donald Sutherland. The latter seemed to give yours truly more wardrobe choices. Today I need to hunt down a cheap belt and a mullet wig to complete the look, though frankly my own ‘do is looking a little shaggy these days. I got this turtleneck mini at American Apparel, and PS, it doesn’t look QUITE like that on me:
…and will throw a Viktor & Rolf trench over the affair with some knee-high pleather boots picked up on the cheap in Paris about a decade ago. Here are some other fashionable turns from the movie, but were too much of a wardrobe investment (what? you ask, i don’t have a red leather corset with fringe kicking about in my closet?):
My sister, Claire, makes a mean version of a Vietnamese spring roll. She makes it look easy, but I’m not going to lie, there’s a LOT of prep involved. Last night Claire julienned the hell out of carrots and cucumbers; chopped cilantro and mint; sautéed shrimp, garlic and Thai chiles; soaked cellophane noodles and rice paper; and spiced it all up with a healthy douse of Sriracha chile sauce. I observed and absorbed, and then annoyed her by snapping photos instead of helping to assemble. But what are big sisters for?
Here is an approximation of Claire’s method.
Vietnamese Spring Rolls
2-3 cloves minced garlic
Butter, for sautéeing
1 1/2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
20-24 shrimp, uncooked
Thai chiles, chopped
2 ounces bean threads (cellophane noodles), soaked in hot water for 30 minutes, drained
Sriracha chile sauce
1/2 cup julienned carrots
1/2 cup julienned cucumbers
1/4 cup bean sprouts
4 teaspoons fresh mint, chopped
1/4 cup fresh cilantro, chopped
4 cups hot water
10-12 6-inch dried rice paper rounds
Heat butter in skillet over medium-high heat. Add garlic, shrimp and thai chiles; sauté until shrimp are just cooked through, about 1 minute. Remove from heat. Season with salt and pepper.
Add Sriracha to drained cellophane noodles, to taste. We added a lot to spice things up.
Pour hot water into large pan or pie dish. Dip 1 spring-roll sheet in water 5 seconds. Remove from water; place on wet towel to blot, and then on cutting board to assemble.
Sprinkle cilantro and mint on round, then heap noodles, carrots, cucumbers and bean sprouts on wrapper and spoon 2 shrimp with chiles on top.
Fold in ends of round like a burrito. Roll into cylinder, and place on plate. Repeat with remaining ingredients.
Serve with peanut dipping sauce and/or Sriracha. I like to dip the spring rolls directly into the Sriracha to kick up the heat. And call me crazy and unseasonal, but a coriander-forward gin like Aviation mixed in a gin and tonic with a splash of lime is a pretty fine accompaniment to the meal!
Lady GaGa celebrates the 35th anniversary of Hello Kitty. Photo by Markus Klinko & Indrani
And now, from a fellow foodinista in the field:
Angels, schmangels—Los Angeles is nothing if not the city of lines. The 405 at rush hour, the velvet rope at the Villa Lounge, the switch-backing, Disneyland-like wait for a Pink’s chili dog, etc., etc. But to our knowledge, there hasn’t been a line in Los Angeles this year that’s held a candle to the opening weekend queue for…
Hello Kitty.
Yes, this past Saturday morning, Harajuku Girl adolescents, thirtysomething Echo Park hipsters and hopeful toddlers alike lined up along several blocks of Washington Boulevard (some for close to three hours), all for the love of a crudely drawn cat.
Royal/T—the café, shop, and exhibition space inspired by Tokyo’s meido kissa (maid café) trend—is hosting a celebration of all things Hello Kitty through November 15th in honor of the animated icon’s 35th birthday. There’s an exhaustive product retrospective, a group art show by JapanLA Pop Culture Shop, a pop up shop, and a special themed food menu.
Hello Kitty High Tea Set
While we didn’t have time to try the Hello Kitty-stamped sandwiches, Hello Kitty-shaped waffles, or three tier Kitty-topped high tea, we did splurge on a strawberry cupcake with buttercream frosting, which the restaurant brings in from local bakery Hotcakes. It was cloyingly sweet, but somehow, still undeniably wonderful. Much like the birthday girl, herself.—Robyn Brown
I’ve always been more of a coffee than tea girl, especially when you’re talking fresh-roasted beans from Ristretto Roasters in Portland, Oregon. However, recently my dad brought me back a spectacularly dramatic tin of Mariage Frères Russian Star tea from Paris. It’s a velvety blend of green tea with aromatic notes of bergamot, grapefruit and pretty pink and purple petals—and is as beautiful as it is delicious.
Last night I auditioned a stuffing for Thanksgiving, and let’s just say that casting is complete. After a couple years of making a predictable, albeit predictably superb, Italian Sausage and Bread Stuffing from Gourmet, this year I’m opting for a totally decadent version involving escarole for bitterness, pine nuts and wild rice for nuttiness, fresh ricotta and parm and prosciutto for richness, and cornbread stuffing for comfort. It’s an old Janet Hazen recipe, and is meant to be served with wild game. But who knows what kind of teenage angst our Heritage turkey will have played out in its youth? Also, if you’re thinking that this sounds a little rich for Thanksgiving (and believe me, you’d be right, but I’m going with it anyway), it’s also totally fantastic with a roast chicken, which is how we enjoyed it last night.
Cornbread and Escarole Stuffing
Adapted fromNew Game Cuisine, by Janet Hazen (Chronicle Books, 1990)
Makes 5-6 cups
4 cups water
1/3 cup wild rice
2 shallots, minced
3 garlic cloves, minced
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 head escarole, trimmed and coarsely chopped
2 tablespoons minced fresh thyme
1/3 lb prosciutto, thinly sliced
1/2 cup FRESH ricotta cheese (please, please, please make sure it’s the fresh stuff!)
1/2 cup grated Parmesan
1/4 cup pine nuts, toasted
1/2 cup low-sodium chicken broth
2 cups packaged cornbread stuffing, prepared (embarrassed to say I used Stove Top as it was all I could find, but will be looking for a better alternative)
In a large saucepan, bring water to a boil, add wild rice, stir, and return to boil. Reduce heat to moderately high and cook uncovered for 45 minutes to 1 hour, or until rice is tender and kernels start to burst. Drain and set aside.
In a medium saucepan, cook the shallots and garlic in butter and olive oil over moderate heat for 5 minutes. Add escarole and cook just until it begins to wilt.
Remove from heat and add mixture to large bowl. Add all remaining ingredients and the wild rice, and mix well, making sure to incorporate ricotta and evenly distribute cornbread stuffing. At this point, I pulled the chicken out of the oven and stuck the stuffing in a Le Creuset gratin dish and roasted for 5 minutes (at 425-ish degrees) just to melt the parm, and then served it with a perfectly roasted chicken.
This morning I woke up with what was unmistakably the aftermath of too much Champagne, Shafer Vineyards Merlot and an ill-advised gin-and-tonic postprandial. Our friends Lizzie and Matt got married this weekend at the Parker in Palm Springs, so there was much to celebrate. I’m furious for not having taken my camera to the reception because I could have shown you chandeliers strung from palm trees—chandeliers in palm trees!!!—under the stars, or 130-some guests waving sparklers during the toasts, or the fireworks that followed, or the fantastic guinea feather boutonnières on the groomsmen, or the lobster and caviar canapés, or THE BRIDE’S DRESS. Every last detail of this wedding was unforgettable, from the s’mores by the firepit at the Parker for early arrivals on Thursday night (sadly, I was marooned in Portugal thanks to a series of delayed, rerouted and canceled flights, not to mention missing luggage, and didn’t arrive until close to midnight on Friday) to the eco-friendly Palm Springs map tote filled with gummy lobsters, Hadley’s date cookies, Excedrin, In n’ Out Burger post-its that was waiting in our room upon arrival, to the maid of honor’s genius toast, to the black/white photo booth at the reception.
And perhaps the funniest detail? Sharing the page with Ivanka Trump in this morning’s New York Times Sunday Styles Weddings/Celebrations. Here’s to one of the best couples I know (not you, Ivanka, I’m talking to Lizzie), and cheers to a lifetime of happiness!
Steak tartare has to be my all-time favorite meal, and my very favorite rendition is one we make at home. Lie. My true favorite, which has more to do with sentiment than flavor, is the super mustardy steak tartare at Brasserie Lipp in Paris, which is the first thing I order along with a glass or two (or a bottle, who are we kidding) of house red upon landing to deal with jetlag. CUT in Beverly Hills makes a mean third-place contender, and uses decadent and fatty kobe beef. Here at home we follow an Anthony Bourdain recipe, which has a gazillion ingredients with everything from cognac to ketchup that add to up to a complexity of flavor that is RIGHT. OUT. OF. THIS. WORLD. But the pièce de resistence are the French fries we serve with—hot off the press from Burger King. Yes, I said it. So one night last week I ground up some sirloin, and our friend Alec brought over four frypods from Burger King, along with a pretty ritzy bottle of 2006 Stags’ Leap Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon. Genius—and generous, very.
4 anchovy filets, finely chopped (Foodinista’s note: I sometimes substitute a healthy squeeze of anchovy paste if I don’t have filets on hand.)
2 tsp ketchup (10 g)
1 tsp Worcestershire sauce (5 g)
Tabasco sauce, to taste
Freshly ground black pepper
1/4 cup salad (i.e., corn or soy) oil (56 ml)
1 oz Cognac (28 ml)
1 small onion, freshly and finely chopped
2 oz capers, rinsed (56 g)
2 oz cornichons, finely chopped (56 g)
4 sprigs of flat parsley, finely chopped
1 1/4 lb. fresh sirloin, finely chopped (560 g)
French fries, optional
4 slices fine quality white bread, toasted, quartered, for toast points
Place the egg yolks in a large stainless-steel bowl and add the mustard and anchovies. Mix well, then add the ketchup, Worcestershire sauce, Tabasco, and pepper and mix well again. Slowly whisk in the oil, then add the Cognac and mix again.
Fold in the onion, capers, cornichons, and parsley.
Foodinista’s note: Bourdain calls for a fine hand-chop of the meat, but on a weeknight I just can’t muster the energy so instead I send it through a meat grinder attached to my KitchenAid mixer. What’s the deal with the saran wrap, you ask? Um, sometimes it can get kind of messy (think Texas Chainsaw Massacre). Enough said.
Then I feed the ground beef through the grinder, which is also pretty gross…
And now back to Bourdain… Add the chopped meat to the bowl and mix well using a spoon or your hands. Divide the meat evenly among the six chilled dinner plates and, using a ring mold or spatula, form it into disks on the plates. Serve immediately with French fries and toasted bread points. (Note, Mr. Foodinista likes to grill the bread instead of toasting.)
In a few hours I’ll be heading for LAX to begin a three-leg journey to Portugal for a weeklong business trip. Several birthdays ago, my friend Booth got me a Smythson Travel Wallet that I’ve used for every subsequent international trip. Booth, who travels overseas a good 2-3 months out of the year, has used a stunning pink version for years. It acts as both a functional wallet—oversized with gold-stamped compartments to organize your passport, tickets, documents, currency, credit cards and receipts but it’s also chic enough to carry at night as a clutch. Last year on a layover at Heathrow, my husband picked up a matching keychain that has room for three tiny photographs of Tiny G and his dad.
Looks like the Larchmont Bungalow has hung a shingle and is nearing completion, much to the consternation of many of the locals. I snapped the above picture this afternoon with my iPhone, while running last minute errands on Larchmont for my trip to Portugal tomorrow. I’m pretty excited for the Bungalow to open, despite the email my entire block received from an infuriated neighbor urging us to boycott it (the Bungalow is potentially violating Measure Q by putting in seating, for which they do not have a permit). Next up: where do I purchase a shag wig and some vintage Maison Bonnet frames so I can pop in here for a beer without fear of exile from Windsor Square?
After reading how I have yet to meet a whole wheat pasta I liked, my friend Gaia sent me a bag of Cara Nonna spiral pasta made from durum whole wheat. It’s sold at her parents’ fantastic Guidi Marcello (an Italian marketplace) in Santa Monica—where the better chefs in town source their olive oil, Parmigiano, pasta and rice, etc. Because Gaia is very beautiful and has exquisite taste in handbags, I had to take her word on the pasta—and I’m soooo glad I did!
At the Hollywood Farmer’s Market this weekend, I grabbed some pork sausage, an onion, some garlic and some prehistoric-looking kale. I sautéed the onions and garlic in olive oil until they softened, then added the kale (which I had rinsed, deveined and chopped up before adding to the pan) and drizzled with more olive oil. I covered and simmered that for 15 minutes. Meanwhile, in a separate skillet I cooked the pork sausage while the pasta boiled in a third pan. And then tossed it all together.
HUGE, HUGE hit…so earthy and autumnal, and the pasta texture was absolutely perfect. Would never have guessed I was dealing with a whole wheat pasta. Thank you, Gaia, and you can count on finding me in the aisles of Guidi Marcello loading up on Cara Nonna.
Thanks to a miserable cold I’m trying to shake and a pending trip to Portugal, I had to postpone drinks with friends Robyn and Andrea this week, which is shame because I was looking forward to the séance vibe at Robyn’s, where the current lighting situation is dictated by a beautiful Edison bulb. Pretty to behold, my pretties, but doesn’t necessarily shed all that much light on the situation. But is that such a bad thing? To wit: the Edison bulbs in the Niche Modern “Binary Pendant Light” that hangs over our kitchen table:
It’s almost like dining by candlelight, which is probably why I love it so much. Plus, if we really need to see anything in the kitchen, there is the godforsaken LA County Code regulation fluorescent recessed lighting, which bathes everything in its creepy stark operatory glow and makes sag paneer look like it’s undergone nuclear radiation. (Thanks, LA County. Sorry, sag paneer.) But I digress. By the time I return from Portugal next week, it looks like I will likely miss my shot at a tarot reading at Robyn’s, as she just ordered new bulbs for her lighting fixtures from Schoolhouse Electric. It’s a fantastic Oregon-based company that produces period light fixtures. Tiny G has a matte bronze ceiling mount with custard glass light fixture in his room. Robyn went with a porcelain mount with a gorgeous clear glass shade that currently houses the aforementioned Edison bulb. For “someday,” we are both transfixed with Schoolhouse Electric’s vintage color series, especially in sunny yellow. How AMAZING is the yellow vintage pendant light against that yellow Heath tile??? Oh, tarot, is it in the cards?
This weekend I off-handedly remarked to my husband that I couldn’t think of a single pro-sports team that incorporated pink into their uniform color scheme. He was watching the Colts – Titans game at the time, and said “Well, Peyton Manning is wearing a pink hat on the sidelines as we speak.” Who doesn’t love Peyton Manning, and even more so for showing his softer side? And then I noticed pink cleats and gloves on various players, like on TO clobbering Brodney Pool (above), and with a little more investigation found out the NFL is supporting National Breast Cancer Awareness month. I love it! The NFL has never looked so good, and I’m even willing give that jackalope Randy Moss (below) a free pass this week for his participation in this cause.
And for those of you who love Tom Brady (sorry, I’m a hater), here’s one more reason why he just might be the perfect male specimen (I will give you—and Giselle—that). Check out his pink kicks.
Here’s the to NFL for supporting breast cancer research. Breast cancer does not discriminate by age—two of my best friends have battled it in their 20s and 30s, and another’s mother is currently undergoing chemo. Please help support breast cancer research! And for the foodie philanthropist, check out Cook for the Cure from KitchenAid!
For those of you who are fortunate enough to live in a clime where seasons exist and leaves change colors, I ask you to please indulge me. Here in Los Angeles, we felt our first nip in the air this weekend with temperatures in the low 70s and lovely overcast mornings. Suddenly all I wanted was fall food, specifically Americana in flavor. So on Saturday morning, my sister and I went to the Cheese Store of Beverly Hills and asked Raffi to select several American surprises. None of the now ubiquitous Humboldt Fog, which I’m told is a bit passé, but instead a gorgeous ashen cube of Nocturne goat cheese from a Korean cheesemaker, the talented Soyoung Scanlan, in Petaluma. So tart and creamy and mushroomy. Then there was a KILLER raw-milk gooey cheese from Meadow Creek Dairy in Virgina, and finally a delicate hard cheese called Pleasant Ridge Reserve from Uplands Cheese Company in Wisconsin. We also grabbed a wedge of Grafton Vermont Cheddar for the main event: burgers.
Our friends Booth and Adam brought over Nancy Silverton’s preferred burger blend of ground beef from Huntington Meats and excellent buttery buns from Thee’s Bakery—both in the Farmer’s Market at Third/Fairfax. To go with the burgers, I tried the Thyme-Roasted Apples and Onions from the new November issue of Bon Appétit. It’s a great side dish to serve with a rich main, as the apples and onions feel very bright and comforting.
Last week, Tiny G’s babysitter cooked an amazing dinner of lomo de res—braised Rib Eye with carrots and onions. She also made beans and rice to accompany, along with a smoky chile and tomatillo sauce.
Sadly I was at work while she made the sauce, so I will do my best to get the recipe; it’s a keeper. For breakfast, we made huevos rancheros with the leftover beans and sauce. I also mixed some ancho powder with salt and sprinkled over the top of the eggs for added smoky goodness.
My sister’s favorite color is pink, and last night’s dinner, which she prepared, certainly had her signature color all over the place. First there were the magenta- and lavender-hued radishes, which found their way into a beautiful salad with butter lettuce, tarragon, avocado and Champagne vinaigrette. Then there was the bottle of Stony Hill rosé, which she brought down with her last month when she moved to LA from St. Helena. Good luck finding a bottle. After we polished it off, my sister informed me that it’s not available for sale and that it’s pretty much just for the family. (It helps to be in good graces with the Chelini sisters. We love you, Misha and Missy!)
And then the main event: perfectly grilled pork chops (they were a beautiful rosy pink before they hit the grill) with red beans and rice and a smoky chile and tomatillo salsa that Tiny G’s babysitter made the other day.
Today I had lunch at Joans on Third with my friend Booth, who is freshly home in LA from back-to-back New York / London / Milan / Paris fashion weeks respectively. Booth valiantly makes this trek twice a year, and yours truly is often the lucky recipient of smuggled Pierre Hermé or Laduréemacarons upon her return. Yes, I’m very spoiled and, yes, have the most awesome friends on the planet. This time, Booth surprised me with some unexpected bonbons…a large box of my VERY FAVORITE CHOCOLATES IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD…English Rose & Violet Creams from Charbonnel et Walker in the UK. They’re filled with voilet- or rose-perfumed fondant cream and topped with a crystalized rose or violet petal, and taste wonderfully old-fashioned. When my sister and I were kids growing up in England, my father would get us a small box on very special occasions and Claire would eat all the rose-flavored chocolates, and I the violets. They are, quite simply, DIVINE. Thank you, Booth!
I am completely hee haw for Chanel’s Spring 2010 collection, shown in a barnyard setting yesterday in the Palais Royal in Paris. By all accounts the performance was spectacular, from the tweeds and knits right down to the gray nail varnish. Do we have to wait until spring, or will Chanel pleeeease break out this color in time for the holidays? Or better yet, for this Scorpio’s birthday??? Seriously obsessed.
For weeks we’ve been trying new Indian takeout places, ever since our beloved Makkah Halal Tandoori on Vermont, from which we ordered takeout once a week for the past three years, changed hands—and unfortunately, their recipes. Which left our household with a serious dilemma, given that my husband has a near chemical addiction to Chicken Tikka Masala. I took matters into my own hands, and on Sunday I tackled Chicken Tikka Masala from Cooks Illustrated, and Baked Indian Rice from Gourmet. The rice was fantastic, but worth it only if you have the time—on a weeknight, forget it.
The Chicken Tikka Masala on the other hand, is right out of this world. Like maybe the best ever! The blend of spices is heavenly, and the fresh ginger and serrano chile gives just the right amount of heat and depth. We all ate more than we should have—and were ready for more…
CHICKEN TIKKA MASALA
From Cooks Illustrated, September 20017; Serves 4-6
Chicken Tikka
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon ground coriander
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 teaspoon table salt
2 lbs boneless skinless chicken breasts, trimmed of fat
1 cup plain yogurt
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
2 medium garlic cloves (minced or pressed through a garlic press,about 2 teaspoons)
1 tablespoon fresh ginger (grated)
Masala Sauce
3 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 medium onion, diced fine (about 1 1/4 cups)
2 medium garlic cloves (minced or pressed through a garlic press, about 2 teaspoons)
2 teaspoons teaspoons fresh ginger (grated)
1 serrano chile (fresh, ribs and seeds removed, flesh minced)
1 tablespoon tomato paste
1 tablespoon garam masala [The Foodinista's note: I used more like 1 1/2 tablespoons]
1 28 ounce-can crushed tomatoes
2 teaspoons sugar
1/2 teaspoon table salt
2/3 cup heavy cream
1/4 cup fresh cilantro leaves, chopped
FOR THE CHICKEN: Combine cumin, coriander, cayenne, and salt in small bowl. Sprinkle both sides of chicken with spice mixture, pressing gently so mixture adheres. Place chicken on plate, cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate for 30 to 60 minutes. In large bowl, whisk together yogurt, oil, garlic, and ginger; set aside.
FOR THE SAUCE: Heat oil in large Dutch oven over medium heat until shimmering. Add onion and cook, stirring frequently, until light golden, 8 to 10 minutes. Add garlic, ginger, chile, tomato paste, and garam masala; cook, stirring frequently, until fragrant, about 3 minutes. Add crushed tomatoes, sugar, and salt; bring to boil. Reduce heat to medium-low, cover, and simmer for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally. Stir in cream and return to simmer. Remove pan from heat and cover to keep warm.
While sauce simmers, adjust oven rack to upper-middle position (about 6 inches from heating element) and heat broiler. Using tongs, dip chicken into yogurt mixture (chicken should be coated with thick layer of yogurt) and arrange on wire rack set in foil-lined rimmed baking sheet or broiler pan. Discard excess yogurt mixture. Broil chicken until thickest parts register 160 degrees on instant-read thermometer and exterior is lightly charred in spots, 10 to 18 minutes, flipping chicken halfway through cooking.
Let chicken rest 5 minutes, then cut into 1-inch chunks and stir into warm sauce (do not simmer chicken in sauce). Stir in cilantro, adjust seasoning with salt, and serve with rice.
This sad news came this morning from Conde Nast’s Chuck Townsend:
Gourmet magazine will cease monthly publication, but we will remain committed to the brand, retainingGourmet’s book publishing and television programming, andGourmetrecipes on Epicurious.com. We will concentrate our publishing activities in the epicurean category onBon Appétit.
My sister and I have both been knocked out by a wicked cold for days now, and have been craving some serious comfort food. Last night we made a pot of my favorite chili, a recipe that bills itself as Texas Beef Brisket Chili since it’s all meat and no beans. It simmers in the oven for almost four hours, and the whole house smells incredible. However, the best part of this recipe is a surprise ingredient that I can’t recall ever having encountered in any other Texas chili—and that’s butternut squash. The recipe, from last year’s October issue of Bon Appétit, is from “The Sausage King” Bruce Aidells and it is perfect as written. I like to garnish with avocado, cilantro and a little grated cheese. This batch accidentally included a most scandalous ingredient, and that’s Spaten Oktoberfest beer instead of, say, Negra Modelo. I don’t even know how a lone bottle of Spaten got into the fridge. Weird. We are not beer bigots by any means, it’s just that we usually gravitate toward American and Mexican brews. But no complaints. In fact, this was one of the better batches I’ve made of this chili. Prost!
No apologies: last night’s dinner was Oven-Fried Panko Chicken and wasabi-mashed potatoes. After reading the Couturealist’s ode to le poulet yesterday, I was set on chicken for dinner. Mr. Foodinista tried his hand at this awesome chicken recipe from the October issue of Gourmet. It couldn’t be easier. Just mix together panko (Japanese breadcrumbs) with cayenne, salt and pepper. In another bowl mix softened butter, salt and pepper, then smooth over chicken pieces (Mr. Foodinista used legs). Coat the chicken in the panko mixture and then roast in the oven for 30 minutes or so.
While the chicken was in the oven, he boiled a pound of Yukon Gold potatoes. Meanwhile, in a saucepan he melted 1/2 stick of butter with a couple tablespoons of wasabi paste, and then mixed in a 1/2 cup of sour cream.
Super comforting and super easy and super delicious!
Required reading: Today over at Couturealist, celebrity stylist Vincent Boucher talks about our favorite “It” girl, the chicken—and how her influence is popping up on the Spring 2010 fashion runways. Great post, VB!
I don’t know about you, but nothing drives me crazier faster than kids music. But Tiny G, like most babies, can’t get enough of it. The other night my friend Andrea, whose little guy is a few days older than Tiny G, asked if he had the Putumayo Kids Picnic Playground album. It’s an album of upbeat international songs about food, with titles like “Bowl of Cherries,” “Goutez-les,” and “Pomodoro.” She added that her 15-month-old “lights up every time we play bolitas de arroz con pollo, which I am hoping is thanks to his Latino blood.” Curious to see if I could stomach it, I sampled a bunch of tracks online for Tiny G before purchasing and it was crazy—he started bouncing to the Cuban beat of “Bolitas de Arroz con Pollo,” and even tried “singing” along with “Milch” from Germany. It’s a really sweet little album that kids and parents will both enjoy, and bonus—it’s about food!
Last night my friend Katie—whose day job is managing editor at Bon Appétit—had several SUPERB moments on Hell’s Kitchen. She totally stole the show in the opening challenge! But I’ve gotta tell you, she’s been stealing the show all week at our house. On Saturday night, she brought over some frijoles refritos for my sister’s birthday bbq that we’ve been obsessing over all week, which have just the right hit of spiciness to them—such a diversion from the usual bland frijoles. We’ve had them in breakfast burritos, lunch burritos, dinner burritos…with cheese, with Spanish rice, tabasco. I kind of can’t believe that refried beans can be THIS GOOD. Katie riffed on an Emeril recipe, but like any great cook made the recipe her own with some genius detours.
In addition to the bay leaf, she added a broken-in half chile de arbol, a sprig of oregano, a few whole peppercorns, and a smashed garlic clove to the water when she cooked the beans. The recipe calls for 3/4 cup of bacon drippings or lard, which is A LOT. Katie notes:
A word about the bacon fat. I doubled the bean recipe and then some (I used 5 cups dried beans rather than 2, and multiplied everything accordingly-ish), but I still ended up using less than 3/4 cup bacon fat. I started with about 3/4 cup (they sell it at Larchmont Larder), but it was just so much when it melted; it seemed like I’d be deep-frying the onions and garlic rather than sauteeing them, so I spooned off some of the fat.
When I was little, my mother had a green and purple Missoni ensemble that I would kill to have today. It’s a color combination I love to this day—our garden is largely silver and dark green leaves with purple, blue and lavender blooms. And last night’s dinner followed suit. I’m not convinced that purple potatoes make the best roasters, but they were pretty with the rapini (aka broccoli rabe). Thinly slice the potatoes and cut off stalks from rapini. Toss with enough olive oil to coat, sprinkle with salt and pepper, and then roast in a 400-degree oven for 30 minutes.
One of my sister’s friends sent a care package containing Palacios Auténtico Chorizo Español. Spanish chorizo differs from Mexican chorizo in both flavor and texture. Thanks to pimentón (Spanish smoked paprika), chorizo from Spain has a distinctive smoky flavor, while Mexican chorizo gets its flavor from chile powder. Please correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe that Palacios is one of the only chorizos made in Spain that is sold here in the US. (Most “Spanish” chorizos we find here are more likely made in the US with Spanish ingredients.) And they’re fantastic. Their dry-cured sausages are made in the Rioja region of Spain, and they are incredible with a glass of Rioja red.
It’s been a weekend of celebrating, kicking off on Friday night with a birthday dinner for my sister, Claire, at CUT. (I am still obsessing about the dry aged ribeye with bone marrow, and the blackberry and spice of the Breggo Pinot Noir. Oh lordy.) Last night we continued the birthday bonanza with a bbq, for which Mr. Foodinista grilled carne asada, I made Spanish rice (more on that later this week), my friend Katie made the BEST spicy beans (will try to get recipe), our neighbor Alyssa brought a divine pasta salad, Martha her legendary guacamole, Adam a bottle of Corzo tequila from which he was passing out shots, and then the pièce de resistance, cake! Claire and I drove all the way down to Yellow Vase Bakery in Redondo Beach yesterday morning to pick up this masterpiece for the party. Is any cake worth a three-hour roundtrip drive? You bet your macaron, it is. This one is decadent chocolate with vanilla buttercream layers and whipped cream frosting, and then topped with perfectly chewy and fresh macarons. What I love is that it is not overly sweet. It’s a cake that will break even the most disciplined dieters (which, let’s be clear, I am not). Get more cake than you think you’ll need; it is particularly great for breakfast the next morning with coffee…
Santa Barbara spot prawns are just one more reason why living on the west coast is superb. My sister stopped by Santa Monica Seafood the other day and picked up half a dozen spot prawns for dinner. These guys are technically shrimp, but are oversized and taste like sweet lobster. Our plan was to throw them straight on the grill for 2.5 minutes a side and serve with heart-stopping cheesy grits with bacon and grilled asparagus. I crushed some garlic into a bowl of olive oil to brush over before grilling, which is when we discovered the roe. Let’s just say we had a bunch of breeders on our hands and didn’t know how the hell to deal with them. I immediately texted my friend Katie, who replied “A delicacy?” Love caviar/roe, so we went with it. Does this look freaky to you?
Turns out the roe was scrumptious. As is every part of these little suckers. We skipped the shells and the eyeballs but scarfed just about everything else…
Yesterday was our friend Adam’s birthday, which required a pirate theme and a parrot named Eli that we affixed to the birthday boy’s chair. My sister stopped by Vine American party store, and managed to find some chocolate gold coins, jolly rogers and assorted pirate accouterments for the dinner table.
The menu continued the theme with Walk the Plank-Roasted Salmon, which we roasted in the oven on a cedar plank. The cedar imparts a smoky sweetness to the fish, and is heavenly with a honey-mustard-rosemary glaze. Happy Birthday, Matey!
Lured by the thought of two of his favorite ingredients—chorizo and squid—commingling in a single dish, on Saturday night Mr. Foodinista undertook a recipe from Sunday Suppers at Lucques, by Suzanne Goin. It’s a favorite cookbook of ours, given that it comes from the restaurant where we got engaged! However, I’ll be the first to admit that one can usually bank on using an annoying number of pans with one (or three) too many steps. However, this salad is so freaking insane that it’s worth it. I scaled waaay back on breadcrumbs (her recipe had us making a cup, which was too much). Also, we omitted the black olives since Mr. Foodinista is not a fan…
Warm Squid Salad with Spinach, Chorizo, and Black Olives
Adapted from Sunday Suppers at Lucques
Serves 4-6
2 1/2 lbs small squid, cleaned
2 lemons, zested
2 tablespoons fresh thyme leaves
2 tablespoons sliced flat-leafed parsley
1/4 cup fresh breadcrumbs
3/4 cup, plus 1 tsp olive oil
3/4 lb Mexican chorizo, casings removed
1 1/2 cups diced onions
1 tablespoon minced garlic
5 ounces baby spinach
1 cup cilantro leaves
1/2 cup sliced scallions
1 cup chopped pitted Nyons olives
6 tablespoons sherry vinegar
Cut the squid bodies crosswise into 1/8-inch-thick rings, and leave the tentacles whole. Season with lemon zest, 1 tablespoon thyme, and parsley. Refrigerate for a few hours.
Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Toss breadcrumbs with 1 teaspoon olive oil and 1/2 teaspoon thyme. Spread onto baking sheet, and toast until golden brown, about 8 minutes.
Meanwhile, heat a large sauté pan over high heat for 2 minutes. Swirl in two tablespoons olive oil and wait about a minute. Crumble chorizo into pan, and cook 1 minute. Add the onion, garlic, and remaining thyme. Sauté 5 minutes over medium heat, stirring often with a wooden spoon, until chorizo is cooked and onion is translucent and starting caramelize. Remove from heat and set aside.
In a large bowl, toss together spinach, cilantro, scallions and olives. In a small bowl, whisk together sherry vinegar, 2 tablespoons lemon juice, and 6 tablespoons olive oil. Set aside.
Heat two large sauté pans over high heat for 3 minutes. Add 2 tablespoons olive oil to each pan, and wait 2 more minutes (pans need to be very hot to sear squid). Divide squid between pans, and season with salt/pepper. Cook 1-2 minutes, without stirring, allowing squid to sear. Stir with wooden spoon, and cook another minute or two, until squid is opaque and just cooked through.
Return chorizo pan to high heat, and add squid, stirring well to combine and coat well.
When mixture is hot, add it to bowl of spinach. Turn off heat and add vinaigrette to pan and heat quickly, until just hot. Pour 3/4 hot vinaigrette over spinach and squid. Season w/ salt and pepper. Toss to combine. Add more vinaigrette if needed. Arrange salad on platter and scatter breadcrumbs over the top. Seriously, it’s worth the effort.
Meet Zsa Zsa, who is an exceptionally pretty turken who lives in Northern California. Here she is laying her first egg! Turkens, also known as Naked Necks, are not half turkeys but rather a breed of chicken that lays light brown eggs. Apparently Zsa Zsa’s eggs are superb in a salade niçoise. Incidentally, I’ve recently learned courtesy of Zsa Zsa’s owner, Devora, that the color of eggshell is determined by the breed of chicken. I also learned that Zsa Zsa’s story is something of a miracle:
When she was 6 months she was bitten on the neck by a rattlesnake. Of course she should have died immediately. I hand fed her for weeks and, somehow, she hung in there. Now she can scamper down the driveway at a good clip when she hears my car in the driveway. Imagine being greeted by a running bird every time you came home from work.
Let’s hear it for Zsa Zsa, the prettiest turken in the great state of California! Thanks, Devora, for sharing this video!
The last leg of our honeymoon a couple summers ago was spent in Rome, where I ordered cacio e pepe—pasta mixed with pecorino and cracked black pepper—every chance I got. It’s a Roman classic, and the superlative example is served at Ditirambo, near the Campo de Fiore. But it is also also a blasphemous version in that it uses goat cheese instead of the traditional pecorino. Ditirambo serves its cacio e pepe with tonnarelli pasta, sort of like a square spaghetti, which I’ve had trouble finding back here so in a pinch I’ll substitute a fat linguine. While the tanginess of the goat cheese is inspired in this dish, I still love the saltiness of pecorino, so I’ve split the difference and have arrived at the following.
The Foodinista’s Cacio e Pepe
Serves 4 as a main course
17.5 ounces tonnarelli or linguini pasta
1 1/2 cups grated pecorino (or more to taste)
2 ounces goat cheese
3/4 cup reserved pasta water
Freshly ground black pepper, to taste
Salt the hell out of boiling water, add pasta and cook until al dente. Drain pasta, reserving 3/4 cup water. Return to pot and add pecorino, goat cheese, 1/2 cup reserved pasta water, and cracked black pepper to taste. (Add additional water if mixture seems dry.) Toss well to melt cheese. Serve with a dry white Italian wine, such as orvieto. I love the 2007 Salviano Orvieto, available at K&L in Hollywood for $12.99.
Last night’s Project Runway featured one of my best friends and Tiny G’s gorgeous godmother, the “celebrated fashion critic” for the Los Angeles Times, Booth Moore. Booth delivered the challenge: Designers had to craft garments out of newspaper. Here’s the link. Check her out! And for added bonus interview, click here for the Project Runway Blog interview with Booth.
It seems like men get territorial over tri tip the way a woman might get about a favorite pair of shoes. I happen to feel that a certain pair of black pinstripe Louboutin 4-inch stilettos with an ankle strap knows no rival. Turns out some guys feel equally passionate about boeuf. My husband recently tried his hand at tri tip, a gorgeous piece of Piedmontese beef from Heritage Foods, marinating it overnight in Two Buddies Marinade for Santa Barbara Beef. (Thanks for the marinade, Lisa!) Following dinner our friend Adam remarked that it seemed his wife preferred Mr. Foodinista’s tri tip to his own version, a sentiment he repeated the following morning in an email…fixating on the beef, kind of like if I had been wearing those Louboutins and his wife, Booth, had shown up in a pair of Dries Van Noten fabric python heels, which, while it didn’t happen that particular evening is likely to happen in the future and undoubtedly I’d be coveting the hell out of her shoes for days to come.
Mr. Foodinista’s secret to tri tip? Sage advice from friend Jamie Purviance, who has several best-selling grilling cookbooks to his credit. Here’s what Jamie recommends for grilling tri tip in his book Real Grilling:
Grill over Direct Medium heat until well marked on both sides, about 10 minutes, turning once. Move the roast over Indirect Medium heat and cook to the desired doneness, 20 to 30 minutes more for medium-rare…turning it over every 5 minutes or so. Remove from the grill and let rest for 5 to 10 minutes. Cut the meat across the grain into very thin slices.
In Food, Recipes on September 15, 2009 at 11:27 pm
My sister, Claire, makes the best salads, and for those of you who order salads and don’t actually make salads, this is actually kind of a feat. Tonight Claire riffed on classic salade niçoise, with an inspired California newcomer, the avocado. We used cherry tomatoes from our garden—and green beans, lettuces and eggs from our neighborhood farmer’s market. Also, in true California style, we gave the carbs a miss and skipped the potatoes. You’ll also note the absence of the namesake niçoise olives, mostly because Mr. Foodinista is not an olive fan, but they would’ve been great. Finally, what makes this recipe is Ortiz Spanish canned tuna in olive oil. Proportions are at your discretion, though personally I like a generous serving of tuna and egg.
Salade Californiçoise
Mixed greens
Cherry tomatoes, halved
Haricots verts, blanched
Ortiz Spanish tuna in olive oil
Hard-boiled eggs, sliced
Capers, drained
Avocados, sliced
Salt & pepper, to taste
For vinaigrette:
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon Champagne vinegar
1 tablespoon minced shallot
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
To make dressing, whisk together oil, vinegar, shallots, and mustard. Season with salt and pepper, to taste. Toss enough dressing with mixed greens to coat, reserving some dressing to toss with blanched green beans. Divide greens among plates. Top with canned tuna, dressed beans, sliced eggs, avocados, tomatoes and sprinkle with capers.
And if you have a glass of blanc de blancs Champagne handy to toast your sister, do that too.
I’ve made no secret about the fact that I am (a) too old to be watching Gossip Girl and (b) watch Gossip Girl. And today I’m adding (c) to the list: wearing Gossip Girl, after a lunchtime run to Target with my friend Dana. Anna Sui, who is also too old to be watching Gossip Girl, designed a line for Target based on her favorite show, with looks inspired by Serena, Blair, Jenny and—inexplicably—Vanessa. I managed to pick up a sheer dot jacquard dress inspired by Blair:
I also picked up a silk patterned dress inspired by, horror of horrors, my least favorite character, Jenny. I will be forgoing the raccoon eyes and weight of the world when wearing this cheerful frock:
Dana went with two fantastic Blair numbers:
But the highlight of our shopping adventure was a girl walking past, arms loaded up with Anna Sui looks inspired by Vanessa (who is TRULY my least favorite character), and yelling into her cell phone, “Don’t stress! There’s still some left.”
For the newly initiated, POSTCARDS is recurring feature with fashion advice from my dear friend Billy, an art consultant with a wicked eye and even wickeder wardrobe. In this edition, he reflects on this past round of September issues of fashion mags. (Btw, has anyone seenThe September Issue, The Movie? My friend Dana and I have a date to see this coming weekend.) And without further ado, a postcard from an unlikely location…
Postcard from the Bathroom (TMI)
I am a far cry from Carrie Bradshaw, who would appropriately set aside a few hours and perhaps snuggle up with a latte to tear through the much awaited September issues of the fashion rags. Instead, I prefer to save these for either a long plane ride or a trip to the bathroom (I know, definitely TMI). It’s often difficult to plan a trip around the delivery of the biggest issues of the year of Vogue, Harper’s Bazaar and W, so I guess I must reconcile myself to the latter option this year. I know I could probably just surf the internet for a taste of the upcoming collections, but I am old school and would rather wait, like an anxious child before Christmas morning, for the delivery of the telephone book size editions of the fashion world tomes.
So, without further ado let me first address the ads. We all know that the bulk of the fall issues is 80% paid promotions for the fashion houses and cosmetic giants.
· Love, love, love the Dolce & Gabbana images of somewhat feral models in brilliant beast fur coats. Did they get some sort of kick-back from Spike Jonze to help promote his upcoming flick, Where the Wild Things Are?
Dolce & Gabbana Winter 2010
· To paraphrase Michael Kors from a recentProject Runway – “maybe it’s so forward thinking that we don’t get it” – Prada’s new campaign is either really avant garde or AWFUL. At this point, I am going with the latter. The girls are most likely the standard size 0 models, but somehow they look like they are plus-size and wearing the new offerings from Casual Corner. I will say that the rubber wading boots with garters seem like a chic homage to fly fishing, but that’s the only good thing I can say about these ads.
· I’ve always felt that Nordstroms were nothing but elaborate money laundering fronts since I never seem to find anything worthy of my credit cards, but I have discovered a brilliant new designer in their latest spread – Haider Ackermann. The gorgeous blood-red fish tail skirt with matching zippered coat is breathtaking.
Okay, so I get it … they want to be timely and he was the King of Pop, but all the editorials that paid tribute to Michael Jackson were not very inspired – hello Harper’s Bazaar. It was probably too late to meet deadlines, but I would have much rather seen fashion shoots with references to all of the brilliant films of my youth by John Hughes. His passing has definitely made me more melancholy. So, how about models styled in homage to:
· Claire Standish – the most stylish Molly Ringwald character from The Breakfast Club. Although some will argue that her naïve ingénue in Sixteen Candles was more fashion forward for the time. I still salivate when I see her in the coraly pink top paired with the paisley wrap-around skirt and perfectly tied together with brown belt and chic lace-up knee high boots. She was the perfect package down to her bento box of sushi, her daddy’s BMW and her poor, rich drunk mother in the Caribbean (to steal a line from Judd Nelson’s character, John Bender).
· Jules – Demi Moore at her Republican party girl preppy best in St. Elmo’s Fire.
· Sloane Peterson – some will say that Ferris himself was the fashion icon of the movie bearing his name, but I was so enamored with his girlfriend played by the gorgeous Mia Sara.
So, head to the newsstand and pick up all of the September issues and let me set the soundtrack for the next few hours you’ll need to peruse these massive editions. Its only right that the Ipod is geared up for a tribute to Hughes films, so plan on some Orchestral Maneuvers in the Dark, Flesh For Lulu, The Rave Ups, Psychedelic Furs and of course, Eighties by Killing Joke.
We managed to sneak in one last fruit crisp with ice cream before the end of summer. On Sunday night, our friends Booth and Adam came over for oysters and grilled tri-tip (more on that tomorrow). Adam made a superb Old-Fashioned Strawberry-Rhubarb Crisp, along with his to-die-for Moorea Double Vanilla Ice Cream. I love this crisp because it’s tangy and sweet at the same time, and the rolled oats in the topping are the bomb. I may have even had some for breakfast the following morning. If you see rhubarb, grab it. And if you have an ice cream maker, this vanilla will become a fast fave. Who cares if summer is over? This crisp could not care less if summer is over, ditto for the white patent-leather hobo I recklessly carried to work today.
TheFoodinista.com will return to her scheduled programming tomorrow, but please indulge me another sartorial tennis musing. Can we talk about Nadal and Monfils and their matching Nike NYC Collection shirts in contrasting peacock hues of Midwest Gold and Glass Blue with gradated dots, respectively? Frankly, I think the embarrassing wardrobe gaff is what rattled Rafa’s cage in the opening sets, but you would think Nike could’ve seen this coming. Federer, take note for Sunday. Your favored Nike Open Men’s Polo in Challenge Red/Black (admittedly a step up from your staid Court Tennis Polo in White and Jersey Gold, yawn) against Rafa’s yellow is going to read awfully Spanish flag when you guys face off. Advantage Nadal?
oudin's custom adidas barricade v kicks via getty images
It’s all tennis all the time over here—maybe too much so, in fact, given that my husband is at the ER at Cedar’s with his tennis partner, who is awaiting results of an X-ray. But while the guys were duking it out on the tennis courts, I was at home watching Melanie Oudin make a stunning comeback in today’s upset against Petrova. I’m thinking it was her shoes that gave her the edge. Look at them! Love the pink and yellow combo. Oudin designed them herself, and while WWD reports that hers won’t be available to the public, we mere mortals can customize our own using MiAdidas.com. It’s pretty safe to say that I am ALL OVER THIS.
This morning, for reasons that aren’t quite clear even to myself, I got up ridiculously early and ran 8 miles at the beach. Naturally, I needed something a little indulgent to “refuel,” and what better than an egg salad sandwich with chives, tarragon and butter lettuce on brioche from Larchmont Larder? The tarragon is what sets this version apart. The brioche doesn’t hurt either. After some initial inconsistencies, Larchmont Larder has definitely hit its stride, and I can tell that having this egg salad sandwich beckoning so close to home is going to be a problem.
Allow these two words to sink in: Beer. Float. I don’t know where to begin, other than that this is the most genius dessert ever. Yesterday my friend Anne and I met for lunch at The Golden State on Fairfax for some bratwurst and fries. The dogs are courtesy of Let’s Be Frank, and are made with humanely raised pork.
But back to the matter at hand, namely beer + ice cream. Anne ordered us each a beer float—made with Old Rasputin imperial stout and a scoop of brown bread ice cream (they feature several flavors from Scoops—another post for another time). The malty stout mixed with this truly insane ice cream is just heaven in a pint glass. I think I might riff this weekend at home with some Guinness and chocolate gelato.
A couple of weeks ago, my sister was visiting from Napa Valley and she brought down a bag of her favorite cookies, which quite honestly left me and my husband a little speechless. Look at them! Now imagine biting into one of these chewy, decadent peanut butter cookies with mini chunks of peanut butter cups tucked in there, or how about one with toffee bits and milk chocolate chips? Oh my god!!! These are the work of Annie the Baker, who sells these heavenly cookies at the St. Helena and Napa farmers markets in Northern California. Annie is the former pastry chef at Mustard’s Grill, and recently she has turned her attention full time to her cookie business. I love her motto: “For those who love cookie dough more than the cookie.” But not as much as I LOVE HER COOKIES! Annie, when can we get our mitts on these in SoCal???
Let’s just get this out in the open: whole wheat pasta is a major bummer. In fact, I’d rather go without pasta than eat whole wheat pasta. For me, pasta is all about pleasure—and it is so NOT a pleasure to eat whole wheat pasta. On the other hand, I adore Barilla Plus pasta—it’s whole grain and is loaded with all sorts of protein, fiber and omega-3 yumminess. Think of it as guilt-free pasta. I keep a canister full by the stove at all times. On a flavor front, it’s toothy in texture and has a great nutty flavor. Last night we used Barilla Plus angel hair to make a simple, satisfying dinner after respectively Monday-esque Mondays. Mr. Foodinista went out to the garden and picked a bunch of basil and some ‘Black Cherry’ tomatoes. They are heirloom cherry tomatoes, very sweet, very delicious.
And from there we made a totally cliché pasta dish, but hey, guess what? It was pretty exceptional. Here are my tips for making a predictable pasta recipe a little bit fantastic. Salt the hell out of boiling water. Throw in some Barilla Plus pasta. Meanwhile, sauté minced garlic in olive oil. When pasta is al dente, drain (reserving a 1/4 cup of pasta water) and transfer to bowl, drizzling with olive oil and a splash of reserved pasta water to refresh.
Toss in sautéed garlic, chopped basil, chopped cherry tomatoes. Grate some parm over the top and add more salt to taste and a few red pepper flakes. Always, always add more salt. Okay, so here’s what we have: sweet, salty, spicy, tangy, nutty, bright, fresh and FAST. Here’s to the last of summer tomatoes, and here’s to a quick and satisfying meal on a Monday night.
My sister, Claire, was recently visiting from St. Helena and brought with her several bottles of Napa Valley rosé from winemaking friends. Our favorite was a bottle of “Mr. Pink” from Schweiger Vineyards. It’s a small-production rosé made from Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon, with red cherry flavors—excellent with a grilled pork chop. Though I don’t usually go in for clever packaging when it comes to wine (it makes me suspicious), here’s one I can make an exception for. Check out the “personal ad” on the back of the bottle to Mr Pink from Cab Lover—so much fun, just like this wine.
Last Sunday night, we went over to our friends Anne and Dudley’s for dinner. The main event was paella, and I had run into Anne and Dudley at Santa Monica Seafood as they were loading up on mussels, crab legs, scallops, and spot prawns for the affair so we knew it would be nothing short of spectacular! Since I didn’t break out the camera until later, imagine sitting in a garden eating heirloom tomato and buffala crostini and bacon-wrapped figs while looking at Anne’s formal rose garden (which she restored to the original 1928 landscaping plan) and sipping Spanish rosé and Albariño—bottles of which are chilling in a silver ice bucket nearby.
I actually hadn’t planned on whipping out the camera at all because it’s, well, rude at someone else’s dinner party. But when their cook, Lety, was adding the seafood, baby purple artichokes, and green beans to a giant paella pot atop a Weber kettle grill, well, I lost all my manners and…click…
You cannot imagine how delicious the paella was! We sat down at tables in the garden to enjoy as the sun was setting and the fire was roaring in the outdoor fireplace. Just magical. Dudley brought out this CRAZY bottle of 1998 R Lopez de Heredia roséfrom the Rioja. I’ve never had anything like it, so fresh for being over a decade old and just gorgeous. Coppery in color with sort of apricot, cherry and nutty flavors—and super complex for a rosé. I hesitate to share this, but there are a few bottles left at The Wine House.
For dessert, Dudley had made a balsamic sauce to go over fresh peaches and basil, while Anne had whipped up the largest, most seductive bowl of mascarpone and cream (with a splash of cognac) you’ve ever dreamed of. This bowl of mascarpone cream wouldn’t have made it through the night if it had been left in my custody. Here is what, if you’re lucky, the afterlife looks like with a spoon:
Last night as I was driving home on Third Street, I was reminded why I love living in Los Angeles so much. I mean, where else does one encounter 17 statues of the David dressed in Michael Jackson Thriller jackets in someone’s front yard? The house in question, Youngwood Court, is a favorite in our otherwise buttoned-up neighborhood, particularly during the holidays—and its owner, Norwood Young, is known as the King of Hancock Park. Last night he was celebrating his birthday—which is a day before Michael Jackson’s (which would have been today)—and to honor the King of Pop had installed a JumboTron in the front yard playing music videos from both Jackson and Young himself, along with two enormous figures of the respective Kings of Hancock Park and Pop, as well as a throne, sparkling glove and gigantic crown on the roof.
I talked to one of the dudes setting up, who informed me it had taken three days to assemble this larger-than-life tableau. My friend Ted remembers Norwood coming into Richard Tyler back in the day, and Tyler himself would custom-make Norwood’s suits, while my friend Jill remembers producing a fashion shoot at Youngwood Court complete with the Davids, with yet another David shooting, David LaChapelle. Norwood—happy birthday! They say the sky’s the limit…
Michael Jackson "Bad" video plays on JumboTron during party setup for Norwood Young's birthday.
NOTE: My friend Rose was leaving a Riser Goodwin trunk show at Patricia Arquette’s house down the street earlier yesterday afternoon and snapped some awesome shots earlier in the setup (before the figurines of the Kings went up). Check hers out at roseapodaca.com!
Earlier this week I made mention of a pretty rocking dinner party with our friends Lizzie, Matt M., Katie, Matt A., and my sister, Claire. In addition to madcap high jinx involving blanc de blancs, spectacular single malts and a bet in which Katie & Matt’s season Dodger tix were on the line (you’ll have to ask Katie about the outcome of that tennis match that next morning), we also ate food. Lizzie put together a totally fantastic salad—a riff on The Hungry Cat’s Heirloom Tomato and Watermelon Salad with Feta, Basil and Arugula. I mean, look at those tomatoes! She coarsely chopped up heirlooms, watermelon, fresh basil and crumbled feta and tossed in a bowl with fleur de sel and pepper:
At the dinner table, we passed a bowl of peppery arugula, and then piled the tomato salad on top. Oh my god – this salad has it all, sweet, tart, salty, savory—yum. It was also the ideal companion to a grilled heritage pork chop with French feta salsa verde (heavy on basil, Italian parsley and marjoram) and grilled fennel.
A couple weeks ago, I was browsing the archives on TheSelby.com and stumbled across Julia Restoin-Roitfeld’s New York apartment. Julia is daughter of Paris Vogue editrix Carine Roitfeld. While Julia’s shoe closet was of particular interest, I couldn’t help but fixate on her beauty products. I know I have my faves (scroll to end of post), but I haven’t covered beauty in over five years so thought I’d check in with three gorgeous girls (whose business it is to know these things) and get their favorite product picks:
Robyn Brown, freelance beauty writer/editor and former Senior Beauty editor, Allure
EYES: I know I’m a pusher with the falsies, but none of those creams will wake up your face half as much as a set of eyelash extensions. Daniel Dinh for Longmi Lashes is the best on both coasts.
ANTIAGING: Skinceuticals C E Ferulic, an antioxidant serum. Boosts the effectiveness of sunscreen and slows aging.
BODY LOTION: Truthfully? Almond oil. Which speaks more to my inability to remember to buy body lotion than anything else…But it does give skin a nice sheen, and doesn’t have that cheap, perfumey body lotion smell that drives me so bananas.
SUNSCREEN: Neutrogena Ultra Sheer. I just reported on sunblocks for Allure this summer, and nothing touches Neutrogena, Aveeno, or L’Oreal. Right now, they’re the only ones that have patented formulas with stabilized avobenzone, which makes them effective for several hours. Everything else breaks down much too quickly.
CLEANSER: I use a salicylic cleanser by Neutrogena because I still break out like a teenager. But for normal skin, I just interviewed a derm who said Cetaphil or cleansing oil by Shu Uemura or Laura Mercier. It’s about maintaining the skin’s lipid barrier…
TONER: Forget it. And P.S., the tooth fairy isn’t real, either.
MAKEUP REMOVER: I’m a beauty writer. We don’t wear makeup.
SECRET WEAPON: My hairstylist, the insanely cool and talented Allissa Teitgen of Neil George salon, turned me on to Rene Furterer Shampooing sec, a dry shampoo. A few spritzes under the bangs can revive a blowdry a full extra day, or fake clean hair (which embarrassingly, I need to do far too often). Actually…now that I think about it, Alissa is the real secret weapon. That girl does bangs better than anyone. Anyone.
Kim Friday, senior fashion editor, Women’s Wear Daily
EYES: Estee Lauder Time Zone Eye Crème with SPF 15 (I keep it in the refrigerator so it gives me a real kick in the a.m.). Visine – As Tom Ford once said, nothing ruins a perfectly made-up face quicker than red eyes! I agree, so I use Visine when needed + it reduces redness on the skin too.
MOISTURIZER(S): Kiehl’s Ultra Facial Moisturizer with SPF 15 – I use this every day year round. There is also a tinted version which I use in the winter in lieu of foundation. Josie Maran Argan Oil – I use this for so many things. During the winter it’s great to put under your night crème for really dry skin, I typically put it under my eye crème at night year round as an added boost as well as on laugh lines and my neck (I’m getting older now – we can’t forget about our necks!). It’s also good for dry lips, elbows, even cuticles.
EXFOLIANT: St. Ives Invigorating Apricot Scrub – I don’t really get facials (too rough on my gentle skin), this and the mask following are my substitutes.
SUNSCREEN: Kiehl’s Ultra Facial Moisturizer with SPF 15
CLEANSER: Cetaphil cleanser (I have sensitive and dry-proned skin, so this is super gentle). Available at drugstores.
BLEMISH CONTROL: Tea Tree Oil – if I do get a blemish, this is what I use. Dries the blemish, not your skin, out in a jiff.
SECRET WEAPONS: The key things are to wash your face + moisturize morning and night; take an extra dose of Vitamin C; SPF, SPF, SPF; drink the recommended 8 glasses of water a day (it REALLY makes a difference)
EYES: Right now I’m using a serum from Elemis that my sister-in-law gave me and I just dab a little on in the morning to smooth lines. My favorite is La Prairie Anti-Aging Eye Cream with SPF, however I’m feeling too poor to splurge right now.
MOISTURIZER: Dr. Hauschka’s Quince Day Cream, available at Whole Foods. I mix a little with my SPF for face in the morning and apply before leaving the house.
EXFOLIANT: Remede Sweep. It’s made out of super-fine marble powder, and is gentle. I use it once a week in the shower.
BODY LOTION: Burt’s Bees Mama Bee Nourishing Oil, which is essentially almond oil. I put it on just before getting out of the shower. It absorbs easily and smoothes skin.
We interrupt this broadcast to bring you a scorching hot list of the best beer spots in Los Angeles, courtesy of friend, graphic designer and killer drummer, Ted Byrnes. Ted and I were emailing yesterday about favorite spots for beer in LA, and his recs were so freaking great, I first had to crack open a beer, and then share his encyclopedic knowledge of LA’s best beer-centric watering holes with you…
The Verdugo in Glassell Park – not only do they have a great selection of American and Euro beers, but they also get nice very limited kegs and casks from Stone, Ballast Point and many other fine San Diegan brewers.
Father’s Office – pretty self explanatory – nice beers from CA AND that damn burger!
Pure Luck - I’m sure as you know – it’s a vegan restaurant frequented by the biker punk set (as in fixed gear track bikes, not motorcycles) that has a beer-obsessed owner. This means they stock special bottles like the Stone Collab beers and rare stuff from Jolly Pumpkin and have limited kegs from the likes of my personal favorite newish brewery The Bruery (from Orange County – they also happen to brew Belgian-style beer better than the Belgians, in my opinion). They might get the award for a great edited beer selection.
Lucky Baldwins – this is the most old school of the great beer bars – it’s in Pasadena and has pretty much everything. Brits, Americans, Belgians, French, German… you name it, they probably have it. It’s usually super crowded, and the food is brit style pub food (so not super awesome) but you will be guaranteed some great beers. It should be noted that this is the preferred beer bar of the beer buyer for the Whole Foods in Pasadena, which happens to have one of the best beer selections around in my opinion – nicely edited and gets cellar-worthy stuff.
Blue Palms – this Hollywood spot is much like the Verdugo in terms of the types of beers they offer – nice rare stuff as well as rock solid stuff (like Stone’s Smoked Porter). They also do the cask / limited keg thing – their casks are usually listed on their site in terms of what they will be getting – I think now they have Stone Smoked Porter with Vanilla Bean (which I have not yet had).
photo via elpradobar.com
El Prado - nowehere near as good or as interesting as the spots listed above (they have less than 10 taps) but it’s in Echo Park (where I live) and they do rotate and usually will have at least one thing that’s really great. Last time I was there (last week) they had a keg of Allagash’s (from Portland, Maine) Curieux which is a very alcoholic beer that is barrel aged – I believe this one is aged in bourbon barrels. It is very good, and rare-ish to see on tap. It is a tripel-style ale (Belgian style).
The Bruery – they are a brewer in Placentia (Orange County) that has a tap room open on the weekends. They brew the best belgian style beers in my opinion. They do bottle a smallish selection of their beers (the Tradewinds Tripel being the seasonal right now – it’s brewed with Thai basil – yummy) but they have AMAZING shit in their taproom. I no longer really drink Belgian beers as these guys do it great. It should also be noted that I am really not pro-America about anything but beer. I think American craft brewers have pretty much surpassed everyone else in the world, and I think the Bruery is a great example of that, particularly because they do more European style beers. That being said, they also know what they are doing with hops – I just had their Humulus Lager on tap at Pure Luck last night and it was up there on the IBU’s – a great beer!—Ted Byrnes
THE FOODINISTA’S NOTE: Check out The Bruery’s Saison Rue—spicy, fruity and a nice hit of citrusy hops.
Update 8/27/09: Be sure to read the comments for more great recs on LA beer joints!!!
Saturday morning following a long run on the beach, I headed over to Santa Monica Seafood to pick up two dozen oysters for dinner. There, I ran into friends Anne and Dudley, who were picking up an insane amount of seafood for a paella dinner party we went to on Sunday night (more on that later this week). Back to the oysters, on offer there were Kumamotos from Hog Island in Northern California. Kumamotos are rich and buttery and just a little bit sweet (if you ever see their sweetwaters available, they’re even better—briny smokey sweet). The Kumamotos are small and a little more manageable when it comes to shucking, though I think a gloveless Mr. Foodinista might beg to differ:
Yet gloveless, triumph he did over two dozen of these little guys. We cracked open a bottle of Charles Heidsieck blanc de blancs (crisp, dry with mineral notes—perfect with the oysters!) and served with my favorite mignonette, which has just a little heat from jalapeños—again, a match made in heaven with a crisp, dry Champagne. Here’s the recipe. Also, I used Vietnamese cilantro from our herb garden instead of traditional cilantro—but either way, totally addictive.
Hog Wash
1/4 cup seasoned rice vinegar
1/4 cup natural rice vinegar
1 large shallot, peeled and finely diced
1 large Jalapeno pepper, seeded and finely diced
1/2 bunch of cilantro, finely chopped
juice of 1 lime
What are you doing this coming Saturday night? Want to hear some seriously great live indie rock? Head to Pehrspace to check out Los Angeles-based Princeton as they begin a 30-some city tour (they’ll be in San Francisco the previous night, 8/28, at The Rickshaw Stop). The band releases their debut record, Cocoon of Love, September 29th on Kanine Records and it rocks. Named for the street in Santa Monica on which they grew up, Princeton is twin brothers Jesse & Matt Kivel, Ben Usen and David Kitz. The boys list their influences as ranging from stacks of herbal tea, the Wall Street Journal, a departing Mercedes, The Metamorphosis, to Bloomsbury, video arcades, graffiti, and a cyclist on the Autobahn. I’ve been listening to nothing else in my car all week and love the album’s wistful opening track (we still call these things albums, right?), “Sadie & Andy,” not to mention some excellent lyrics involving socks in a monologue at the start of a tune called Sylvie. Here’s a taste from the album, a track called “Calypso Gold” that New York Magazine named one of the top songs of summer. This just in: word on the street is that their song “Shout It Out” will be a KCRW Top Tune on Wednesday.
Last night was boozy and brilliant. My sister, Claire, is town, and we were joined by our friends Lizzie, Katie, two Matts, and a trio of Scotch. Katie brought over three different single malts from Scotland—Ardbeg, Oban and Glenrothes—for us to try for dessert. In anticipation I made a Reine de Saba from Mastering the Art of French Cooking, subbing in Makers Mark bourbon for rum as I thought it would be more user-friendly paired with the Scotch. Seriously—Julia would be proud. I think I might have a serious crush on Oban, by the way. Here’s Lizzie topping me up.
Thank you, Katie, for sharing your best bottles! Frankly I think she was trying to get Mr. Foodinista drunk so she could beat the madras shorts off him at tennis this morning. They’re in Griffith Park, volleying as we speak… Who will win? Cast your votes…
Strawberry season is coming to a close, so before they’re gone, I urge you to grab some this weekend. You will thank me—but mostly my friend Vincent—that you did. The other night Vincent came over for burgers (grilled to perfection by Mr. Foodinista), bringing with him an incredible brown butter shortcake with strawberries and whipped cream. The recipe hails from the New York Times, and tastes like pure summer. The brown butter shortcake—oh my god, so rich, so buttery, so delicious. I’m told the dessert made its heralded debut in The Pines on Fire Island last month, and its maiden West Coast appearance Wednesday night was equally lauded. In fact, it was so freaking good that I ungraciously demanded that he leave the lion’s share of the brown butter shortcake and all the berries behind. With friends like me, who needs shortcake?
My friend and GastroKid cofounder Hugh Garvey is one of those super creative types, with an arcane knowledge of samurai flicks and a serious Veronique Branquinho addiction. He’s also a great dad, fantastic cook and a really good guy. Which is why I couldn’t be more excited that his new GastroKid Cookbook is hanging out in the top 10 of Amazon.com’s bestselling cookbooks (and in the top 200 bestselling of ALL books), has been featured in Cookie Mag, on ABC’s The View From the Bay, and today on DailyCandy Kids. It’s filled with awesome—and easy and accessible—family recipes for everyday cooking that will please all ages (his kids are 4 and 7), like Foaming Butter Basted New York Strip, Eggs de la Vera, Grilled Baby Octopus, and Shiitake Mushroom and Plum Tomato Pizza. Be sure to check out Hugh’s recipe for Roasted Chickpea Bruschetta. My friend Katie, Hugh and I tried Mario’s version at Babbo in New York several years ago. And guess what? Hugh’s is better. And yes, the kids will eat this up—that is if the adults don’t polish it off first.
The Foodinista is flattered to get a link back to my Pimm’s Cup cocktails from the always saucy Suicide Girls. My friend Missy Suicide founded the site (featuring pin-up photos of naked punk rock, goth and indie girls) in 2001, about a year after we met and discovered a shared love of louge. It’s pretty awesome how big a brand it is now. And even more awesome that the girls are throwing a little love the Foodinista’s way! Cheers, ladies!
I am boldly claiming this recipe as my own (though it is derived from a circa 1984 Gourmet recipe that my parents have made for the past 25 years) as I’ve tinkered with it over the years and made it my own. I only make it a few times a year because I don’t ever, ever want to tire of it, so I tend to break it out for special occasions—or for people I really like a lot. Like our friend Vincent, who is coming over tonight for burgers. He’s bringing the dessert, so watch for reports later in the week. But in the meantime, here’s a taste of orzo:
The Foodinista’s Orzo
1 1/2 cups orzo
3/4 cups good olive oil, divided
2 8-ounce packages frozen artichokes, thawed
1 egg yolk
2 tablespoons white wine vinegar
1 teaspoon dijon mustard
2 tablespoons fresh basil, julienned
3 ounces thinly sliced prosciutto, minced
3 ounces freshly grated pecorino
Fresh lemon juice, to taste
1/4 cup fresh Italian parsley, chopped
4 green onions, thinly sliced (including greens)
In a medium pot of heavily salted boiling water, cook orzo until al dente, 7 or 8 minutes. Cut heat and add artichokes. Drain and rinse with cold water. Toss orzo and artichokes in mixing bowl with 1/4 cup olive oil.
In a small bowl, whisk together egg yolk, vinegar, mustard, salt and pepper. Add remaining 1/2 cup oil in a stream, whisking to emulsify.
Whisk in chopped basil. Pour over orzo and artichokes. Add prosciutto, Pecorino, parsley, green onions and toss. Add a squeeze of fresh lemon juice (1-2 tablespoons) to taste. Add more salt. Always.
Last night, we got takeout from Mozza2Go (the newish takeout spot next door to Osteria Mozza on Melrose) to accompany a few cocktails while watching the season premiere of Mad Men. Roasted peppers stuffed with tuna, chicken liver and guanciale bruschetta, salumi salami, and butterscotch budino, divine. Most of all the budino, which was almost as delicious as Joan vs Moneypenny.
Here’s the honest truth. I haven’t bought jeans since before getting pregnant, which is going on two years ago. So you can imagine how much the denim landscape has changed. To wit: does Paper Denim & Cloth even exist anymore? Enter stylist (and one of my besties) Vincent Boucher to the rescue. Yesterday, he whisked me over to Ron Herman to a J Brand jeans event, where I fell head over heels for this pair of “Circuit” harem-style jeans, a collaboration between J Brand and Hussein Chayalan. (In above photo, they are at far right.) Vincent’s and my former neighbor/J Brand designer Susie Crippin was wearing a pair, and while these amazing jeans aren’t going to have quite the same effect on yours truly as they did on Susie, I’m super excited about them. As well as the “Pencil” pair in Ghost (sort of faded black) I also grabbed for good measure:
My dad just got back from Paris, bringing with him a chic fall wardrobe for Tiny G. He discovered a store called Alice à Paris, and mon dieu, did Tiny G clean up with several chemises bretonnes (tunics), some trousers, swimming trunks and the most incredible gabardine coat:
Tiny G’s parents are really going to have to step up their game if they’re going to be seen out and about with this petit garçon. Say “merci, Papi!”
Here is just a small taste of something good for Friday morning, a mini red velvet cupcake with cream cheese frosting from Milk on Beverly. (With my apologies to Carolynn Carreño and her well-documented dislike of cupcakes.) Besides which, this little cupcake is too small to get mad about—or even feel guilty about eating. In a bite, it’s gone. Which is why you might want to get two. Happy Friday!
A few weeks ago I blogged about the talented Jeanne Kelley, and here is another fantastic recipe from none other than…Jeanne! Her Salmon with Snap Peas, Yellow Peppers and Dill-Pistachio Pistou recipe is featured in the August issue of Bon Appétit. I’ve made this dish several times now (my only tweak is that we grill the salmon rather than pan fry), and it is so quick and easy. And impressive. But the real key to this dish is the dill-pistachio pistou. Pistou is basically the French answer to pesto, but this one subs in dill and green onions in lieu of basil and Italian parsley, pistachio for pinenuts and pistachio oil for olive oil. It is inspired…the pistachio oil added a nutty richness that makes this pistou feel totally decadent. I loved it with the salmon, but would love to serve this pistou with seared scallops, or tossed with beets and goat cheese or maybe just a dollop with green beans or roasted brussels sprouts.
Two of my friends are pregnant with baby boys due in September and October. It’s fun hearing about all the gear, because even though Tiny G is just a little over a year old, already there’s new and improved stuff on the market. Except no one has yet to improve upon the ultimate baby bassinet from Lalapanzi Beds. My friend Jill gave us this, and it was the most useful—and stylish—baby present. For the first four months of his life, Tiny G slept in this super soft, handmade bassinet in nectarine suede with a faux-Burberry check lining. It’s great because you can pick it up and move it anywhere – the bassinet itself only weighs about 4 or 5 lbs. And then when you’re ready to transition baby to a crib, you can just set the Lalapanzi bed inside the crib during naps to get them used to it. (Get the smaller size, which will be plenty big for up to a six-month old.)
Last night I was enjoying a Lillet Blanc and club soda—a most refreshing spritzer—and catching up on reading one of my favorite blogs, DESIGNwatcher, written by my friend Lizzie. Seems I’m not the only one on the Lillet Blanc wagon. If you haven’t already tried, Lillet Blanc is a blend of 85% white wine with orange liqueurs, and is much drier than its Lillet Rouge (made from red wine) counterpart. It is totally delightful on the rocks or with a bit of fizz. Check out Lizzie’s recipe for Foxtails by clicking here. Hey Lizzie – can’t wait to toast your return to LA with one of these STAT!
Last week a couple of you emailed with your favorite coffee roasts and where to drink them. I’d love to hear from more of you—where is your favorite cup of Joe? And do you like a dark roast or medium? Me, I’m a medium-roast kind of girl.
Although I live in Los Angeles, my very favorite beans in the whole wide world are from Ristretto Roasters in Portland, Oregon. And recently Jane and Michael Stern of Road Food named Ristretto Roasters the best cup of coffee in the Pacific Northwest. Interestingly, owner Din Johnson gives all his beans a medium roast with the belief that each bean has its optimal roasting point, and beyond that you’re taking away the flavor. Din is married to my friend Nancy Rommelmann, and when I was talking with her about the finer points of a medium roast she put it this way: “The analogy of a steak is a good one: too little fire, you don’t get all the flavor; too much, it’s burnt and dry.” Frankly, I don’t know beans about roasting, but Din clearly does. Stick your nose inside this bag of earthy, heady Sumatra Sidikalang Tabu Jamu beans and inhale:
Can you smell that fruity, almost floral aroma? Trust me, the flavor is just as rich. If you are in Portland, a visit to Ristretto is a must! Pick up a couple bags for the trip home. I’m making my way through these two goodie bags of Sumatra and El Salvadoran beans.
By the way, if you’re wondering where esteemed Mayor Villaraigosa likes the beans, the answer is a sidewalk table on a Friday afternoon with a lady friend at Peet’s on Larchmont. I must say the mayor looked very rested after his recent Icelandic vacay. Tiny G was not impressed and if he were able to say more than banana and guapo (the extent of his repertoire beyond mama and dada), he would have demanded to know why the mayor hasn’t pressed AEG to reimburse the city for Michael Jackson’s funeral costs.
Yesterday my friend Jill and I hosted a baby shower for our friend Selena. Jill discovered this totally amazing cake from a bakery in Redondo Beach called Yellow Vase. Seriously I need someone else to get knocked up or engaged STAT—any viable excuse to order another one of these! Oh, wait! My sister’s birthday is coming up. (Claire, you want this cake, right???)
Inside is a rich chocolate cake with the best ever buttercream layers, frosted with pale blue whipped cream (not too sweet, just perfect), and then topped with colorful macarons. What a great idea in general though, to use macarons to decorate a cake. Jill said when she was picking up at the bakery, they had a wedding cake covered in macarons. How fun is that? Too bad we didn’t have an extra slice for this guy, who showed up at the brunch uninvited…
Friday Follies [n., pl.] postings on Fridays about fashion and food in film from guest bloggers with impeccable taste.
“Come Elwood, let us adjourn ourselves to the nearest table and overlook this establishment’s board of fare.”
Eating out is a highly charged social activity, to say the least, with profound dramatic and comedic potential built into it. This is probably why so many superb cinematic moments involve the problem of eating with others. An example: Jake and Elwood Blues (John Belushi and Dan Aykroyd in The Blues Brothers, 1980) screech to a halt in front of a fancy French restaurant, Chez Paul. They walk inside, take a table, and spend some time behaving badly. Granted, they have a good reason for acting out, having come to pressure their old band mate, Mr. Fabulous, into quitting his job as maitre d’ of this fine establishment and rejoining the band. But their “mission from God” is only an excuse. The brothers relish the scene, eating up the stuffy atmosphere like the hungry low class wolves that they are. Having ordered a $120 bottle of Dom Pérignon ’71, five shrimp cocktails, and some bread (from waiter Paul Rubens, pre-Pee Wee Herman), they proceed to overstep as many bounds of good taste as possible. As a young Aykroyd slurps his champagne from a large goblet, Belushi puts on a sort of Spanish-Arab accent and offers to purchase the daughters of the disgusted gentleman at the next table. And most memorable, to me, is what the brothers do with the shrimp: inspired mock-snobbery at its finest.
The scene is straightforward snobs vs. slobs, and it draws the line between the two in great, multi-sensory detail. Not only do Jake and Elwood look out of place, wearing shades and eating with their overstuffed mouths open, but also, as the snob at the next table explains, “Frankly, they’re offensive. Smelling. I mean they smell bad.” Class lines are drawn on the soundtrack, too: the sound of snobbery is chamber music and a soft murmur of conversation, while the sound of slobbery is the loud whistle waiter-call and the noisy champagne slurps, more than loud enough to turn polite heads. So we see, hear, and smell the transgressions being perpetrated, and somewhere along the way, I think we can taste them, too (they taste something like a shrimp tail flung across the table into your mouth). Taste, after all, is the subject of this scene, a sharply performed encounter between the high and the low, good taste and bad, so to speak. The Blues Brothers pointedly upset the proper order of things, and they do so with great joy, pure style. As social commentary, it may be forced and heavily stereotyped, but this is excellent lowbrow comedy doing its thing, acting out.
Belushi had delighted us with his slobbery two years earlier, in the unforgettable Animal House cafeteria scene. As Bluto, he eats his way along the buffet, stuffing his face to capacity. [Note that the noisy slurp plays a role here, too: with a furtive glance around and a mischievous eyebrow-lift, Bluto vacuums up a Jell-O square without paying for it.] His tray piled high with everything, he sits down to eat with some bonafide snobs. More slurping. They express disgust, and he responds: “See if you can guess what I am now.” He inserts some sort of white food product (a hard boiled egg?) into his mouth and—pop!—splatters it all over them. “A zit! Get it?” The frat boys give chase and, as an escape strategy, Bluto gives that famous two-word cry: “Food fight!” Anarchy ensues. Order gives way, at least for the moment, to an uprising of mass slobbery. Bluto and the Blues Brothers are revolting in more than one sense.
Do these scenes amount to the comedic equivalent of a revolutionary manifesto, or just funny blue-collar trumpeting? Incisive social critique, or just heavy-handed class warfare stuff (i.e., classic comedy material)? Either way, it’s god damn good, and funny. Who can deny the recreational value of disorderly conduct? Comedy’s most noble pursuit, of course, is to take the stuffing out of us, to locate and release tensions, put things out of place. If these scenes are still funny, then their lesson remains relevant: the revolution will begin with bad table manners.—René Thoreau Bruckner, Visiting Assistant Professor, School of Cinematic Arts, University of Southern California
Here’s how I learned about the John Hughes news today. I logged onto facebook and at least seven friends had quotes from John Hughes movies (heavily favoring Sixteen Candles, and why wouldn’t you) as their status updates. Of course, tragedy notwithstanding, I immediately thought of Jake Ryan, every girl who turned 16 in the 80’s ultimate. Even 25 years later, Jake Ryan is timeless—as is his plaid. Which brings me to Breakfast Club’s John Bender, another gift from John Hughes. Admit it. Bender was hot. Even with the whole earring situation (are those real diamonds, Claire?). But especially because of the plaid.
If we’re lucky, we have another good month of prime raspberry season ahead of us, so I’ve been grabbing a couple cartons at farmer’s market each weekend. Tiny G likes them mixed in with his oatmeal. His parents like them with a little freshly cracked black pepper and a drizzle of aged balsamic. The pepper adds a hit of spice, while the balsamic-raspberry combo gives a wonderful sweet-tart note.
What you see is one of the most fantastic uses of leftovers in recent memory. On Saturday night we grilled Heritage bone-in ribeyes, corn on the cob and red onions, and we roasted pasilla chiles to toss with the onions. We had leftovers of all the veggies, so Sunday morning we walked to Larchmont Farmers Market, grabbed a week’s worth of fruit and veggies (can’t wait for beans, summer squash, and peaches this week), some farm fresh eggs and then swung by Sam’s Bagels for some chewy rye bagels. Back at home I scrambled some of the eggs, the leftover veggies from the previous night and a little bit of cheddar cheese in an iron skillet.
The pasillas we had were unusually spicy, while the grilled corn was sweet and caramelized—ditto on the leftover grilled onions. So satisfying. Even better, the strong cup of El Salvadoran coffee brewed from beans I picked up at Ristretto Roasters in Portland last weekend. More on my loot from Ristretto tomorrow…
I’ve made no secret about the fact that I have a “thing” for rosé. I’ve also never featured a rosé over $20 on this blog (unless it had bubbles), because I am morally opposed to the idea. The whole point of (still) rosé is that it’s cheap and best enjoyed fresh and young. But when it comes to Domaine Tempier Bandol Rosé at a depraved $40/bottle, I allow myself a certain amount of moral flexibility. Especially when it comes to raising a toast to the fact that four years ago last night, I met my husband. Cheers to a happy path and rosé future!
Here is the first of our ‘Big Zebra’ tomatoes in the garden. There are several more nearing imperfect perfection, as well as some ‘Black Cherry’ tomatoes. But for this big beauty, we simply cracked a little salt and pepper, some chopped purple basil from the garden, and drizzled just a splash of aged balsamic. And then enjoyed alongside a roasted chicken dipped in a little dijon. Summer simplicity at its best.
Anytime you see a recipe by Jeanne Kelley—whether it’s her cookbook Blue Eggs and Yellow Tomatoes, in the pages of Bon Appétit or Cooking Light magazines, or on her Eat Fresh blog—make it. A few nights ago we tried these Pork Chops with Chiles Rellenos and Ancho Sauce from the August issue of Bon Appétit, and had our friends Booth and Adam over for dinner. The four of us are serious chiles rellenos freaks, and have together spent marg-fueled nights devouring hop-the-next-flight-they’re-that-good rellenos at the Sayulita Café in Mexico. But I digress. For this recipe, both the chiles and pork are done on the grill, which is a lot less work than going the whole battered and fried route w/ the rellenos, and certainly a hell of lot time efficient than traveling to Mexico. We also had some leftover potato filling from these rellenos, which we used the next night for potato tacos.
Here’s the potato filling, couldn’t be easier. Essentially boiled Yukon Gold potatoes, toasted cumin seeds, fresh oregano (which is growing out of control in the back yard—how do I prune that stuff?), and sharp white cheddar. Like I said, great in a tortilla the next day.
Before grilling, you do have to roast the chiles over an open flame, and then you stuff with the above mixture and place on a foil-lined baking sheet. Then transfer the foil and chiles directly onto the grill.
Oh, and a word about the pork. Ninety-nine percent of the time, I’ll take my pork chop with nothing more than a little cracked salt and pepper on it—particularly if we’re talking Heritage Foods chops. But this recipe proves an exception—the chile powder and salt rub is fantastic, and that ancho sauce sublime.
Julie Powell: A force to be reckoned with! Photo via juliepowell.blogspot.com
Today, Gawker had a great item called “Prissy Food Bloggers Hate Food Blogger Movie,” which has generated a LOT of traffic back to my own hopefully minimally prissy pseudo-food blog, thanks to Gawker reader “snugbug” who linked to an item my friend Sorina wrote about foodie beach reads a few weeks ago. I’m in snugbug’s camp when it comes to Julie Powell’s writing prowess, and so wanted to add my unsolicited two cents to the debate, because I’ve had the pleasure of working with Powell, who is about as unprissy as they come. (Amy Adams, who portrays her in the movie, is another story for another time. Who has that kind of energy??) The debate seems to stem around whether or not Julie Powell has the chops to cook. I would venture that a recent post on her blog featuring the above photo of Powell wielding a small knife with which she has boned an entire pork leg while wearing a “don’t fuck with the cook” apron should help to silence her detractors.
But back to those who somehow feel like Powell has maligned Child’s memory, isn’t the original premise of Powell’s brilliant blog project the very essence of Julia Child? Here is one of my all-time favorite quotes, as sort of a metaphor for life, and yes, it happens to come from Julia Child:
“The only real stumbling block is fear of failure. In cooking you’ve got to have a what-the-hell attitude.”—Julia Child
Kudos to you, Julie, and to your what-the-hell attitude. Even though I’ll probably have to pop a valium after 122 minutes of Amy Adams squealing, I can’t wait to see your story on the big screen!
Last night, we celebrated some good news from my husband’s work with a bottle of 2002 Deutz Rosé Champagne (a gift when Tiny G was born last summer), which we enjoyed in these pretty Champagne coupes we got as a wedding present. They are the Elizabeth pattern from the Marc Jacobs for Waterford collection, a pattern which we ultimately selected because my mother-in-law’s name is Elisabeth. We love them. A lot.
We only use the coupes on special occasions, like last night. And so, when I started this blog post, I was going to talk about how gorgeous the crystal is with cut floral patterns and the pretty raspberry and cherry flavors in the salmon-pink Deutz. But then when I went to link to the coupes, I discovered these heart-wrenching words on Waterford’s site: “THIS IS A RETIRED PATTERN. REMAINING STOCK IS AVAILABLE FOR SALE, FOR A LIMITED TIME.”
I’m gutted. So, panicked, we ordered a few more coupes and are hoping to round out what we still need little by little before it’s all gone.
The plums at farmer’s market the past couple weeks have been insane! My husband loves cobbler, particularly classic peach, and while I’m up for it every once in a while, usually it skews too sweet. Which is why I LOVE this plum rendition from the Jimtown Store Cookbook. The topping is made from cornmeal biscuits with a sweet-savory note. I am quite simply crazy about this recipe.
Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Butter a small (1 quart) gratin dish. To make biscuits, sift flour, cornmeal, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt together in medium size bowl. Add butter and and using a pastry cutter, cut butter into flour until bits are pea-sized. Add the crème fraîche and stir until moistened. Gather dough into a ball and gently knead 5 or 6 times in a bowl.
On a lightly floured surface, roll dough out to 1/2-inch thickness. With a 2-1/2-inch cutter, form 10 biscuits. Cover and refrigerate while you prepare filling.
For filling, in a large bowl combine 1/2 cup sugar, tapioca, lemon juice, cinnamon and mace.
Let stand at room temperature for 15 minutes. Spoon fruit and juices into the prepared bowl. Drizzle 1/4 cup of cream over fruit.
Brush tops of the biscuits with remaining tablespoon of cream and sprinkle with teaspoon sugar. Place the biscuits on top of the cream/fruit mixture.
Bake cobbler for 10 minutes, then lower oven temperature to 425 degrees. Bake until biscuits are golden brown and filling is bubbling, about 10 minutes. Remove cobbler from oven and allow to cool on rack for 20-30 minutes. Serve warm.
My sister-in-law Kate is the queen of looking good in workout gear. While we were all together in Vermont last month, she broke out a series of great-looking running skirts. (It doesn’t hurt that she is in perfect shape.) My favorite of her skirts was from Lululemon, a company that manufactures athletic gear with a near-cult following. Taking a page out of Kate’s book—the chapter where I crib her workout wardrobe, not her 8.5-minute miles—I recently purchased from the Beverly Hills boutique the above Run Speed Skirt*R, which features sassy box pleats across the rear and a super comfy built-in hot pants liner with glittery silicon bands in the legs to keep the liner from riding up. (Btw, Lululemon website is sold out of the black/pink floral, as they were in the Portland, Oregon, boutique but they still have a few in Beverly Hills.)
I wore this skirt for an inaugural run last week in the Dundee Hills and although I was ready to drop dead from the near 100-degree temps, this running skirt gave me the edge to keep going—uphill. I mean, yes, it looks great on (very flattering) but it is also very functional and comfortable. Get one. It’s worth the, gulp, $52.
I’ve been in the Willamette Valley since Thursday for work—and no WiFi—so apologies for the unexpected silence. (Above, some unripe Pinot Noir from a red clay “jory” soil vineyard in the Dundee Hills.) But I’m back after spending a totally great afternoon today in Portland with my friend and colleague Nancy Rommelmann. First stop was at Ristretto Roasters, where I picked up some Sumatra Sidikalang Tamu Jamu beans after sampling a cup over a debate on ethics in journalism with Nancy.
After, we moved next door for a shrimp po’ boy at EaT: An Oyster Bar, which totally hit the spot, but for some reason I didn’t take a photo. Perhaps I was too embroiled in a conversation about husbands we love (ie, our own). Then I bid the lovely Nancy adieu, and headed to the Pearl District for some gelato at Mio Gelato. I sampled the seasonal red plum but was feeling less virtuous so ordered a “bambino” of dolce di latte.
What a day—beautiful blue skies, sunshine—a perfect afternoon for spending a few relaxing hours in Portland.
So the neighbors can’t be too happy about the fact that a stretch limo dropped off a bunch of seriously happy and chatty customers in front of our house late last night. Our friend Amy was in town from Las Vegas and we all went out on the town—Thai Town, that is—with Chef Jet Tila from the Wynn Encore’s Wazuzu, who is in town filming at his dad’s Bangkok Market on Melrose this week. So last night Jet took us on a tour of Thai Town, and our first stop was Yai Restaurant in a Hollywood strip mall, next to a 7-11. First order of business, a round of Thai beer.
Then Jet ordered some of his favorites representing different regions of Thailand.
Here are just a few, but by no means all, of the dishes we tried. Let’s start with everyone’s favorite, the steamed red curry with seafood (squid, shrimp, scallops, crab, mussels). It’s wrapped in foil, much like Jiffy Pop! It is without doubt, the most exciting dish I’ve tasted in recent memory. Definitely order this.
You’ll also want to get some of the crab steamed rice:
The fried catfish with green apple salad (secret ingredient: pickled garlic) was incredible:
As was the authentic pad thai, extra spicy.
There was also wild boar with red curry, Chinese broccoli with crispy pork belly, fried trout, and much more. Yet somehow we managed to make our way over to Ban Kanom Thai for dessert. It’s a bakery and sweets shop, with homemade ice cream and all manner of enticing pastries and Thai sweets. It’s open until 2 am, and even 10:30 pm on a week night it was pretty hopping. The aroma when you walk through the door is incredible.
Check out this insane coconut pudding with taro. Reeeeeally good.
And these sweet “tacos”…
My friend Booth (another partner in crime last night) and I are already planning a repeat attack. Seriously amazing food, and even better company. Thanks, Amy and Jet!!!
Yesterday on facebook, I noticed that my super style-y friend and photographer Sharon Suh had changed her profile pic. The above shows her standing on a painter’s canvas at a home that once belonged to Elaine de Kooning. Quick diversion, how great is this Timothy Greenfield-Sanders photo of de Kooning, circa 1980?
Obviously, I became immediately obsessed with Sharon’s shoes and as soon as she messaged back that they were Melissa Plastic Dreams, I was on it. Imagine my glee when I discovered that Vivienne Westwood had designed several shoes for the line? I jumped on these Melissa Ultragirl III peep-toe numbers designed by Ms Westwood. I had to given that Saks had one pair left—and IN MY SIZE. Also, they’re manufactured in a sustainable way, with practically zero waste. Do you think that line of defense will fly when I attempt to justify the purchase to my husband?
This weekend Tiny G and I hit Abbot Kinney to meet Tiny G’s doppelgänger HRM and his mom, Andrea, for brunch at Gjelina. First off, the staff there is the bomb. Couldn’t be friendlier, and Tiny G definitely had eyes for ladies at the front of the house. I had eyes for the chickpea stew with Israeli couscous, spiced yogurt and harissa:
Though, seriously, get a load of what Andrea ordered. La Quercia speck with fried eggs, arugula and lemon. Next time I am all over it:
After a couple of mimosas we stopped in next door at Parker Pettit, where Tiny G picked up some Yo My Booties blue suede moccasins like his friend HRM was wearing:
And then we walked down to see my friend Andy, who is the “A” in the A+R Store, which was hopping! I am slightly obsessed with this porcelain Wellington boot vase I saw there from Czech designer Maxim Velčovský. Do I need one??? I think maybe yes…
If there is one food I associate with summer, it has to be peach ice cream. When I was I kid we’d go to my grandparents’ for a three weeks each summer, and my grandfather would make THE WORLD’S BEST fresh peach ice cream in a hand-crank ice cream maker with ice and rock salt. When my husband and I got married, we registered for a beautiful White Mountain Hand Crank Ice Cream Maker specifically so that we could make my grandfather’s ice cream exactly to plan. Yesterday we made a batch—my husband’s first go at homemade ice cream. Yes, it’s a workout turning the crank for 20 minutes, but the payoff is quite simply sublime.
1/2 tsp. salt. Beat eggs and sugar together until thick. Add peaches, cream, extracts and salt. Mix well. Freeze in ice cream maker. Makes about 3 quarts.
Following our fig and gorgonzola pizza expedition the other night, we were left with a few figs and a small amount of cheese. One of my favorite summertime cocktail apps is roasted figs. Simply halve the figs, plop a little gorgonzola on top and place on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper and roast for 5 minutes at 400 degrees. Crack black pepper over and serve with a very cold glass of rosé.
I’ve been seeing baskets of Black Mission Figs, and wanted to try using for one of my sister’s faves—gorgonzola and fig pizza. I got the dough from Whole Foods, and though I’ve said it before, it bears repeating: let the dough sit out for several hours and let it double in size and then punch down and let it happen again. This results in a more flavorful, thin and crispy crust. My neighbor Ted says you can also buy fresh dough at Village Pizza on Larchmont and Damiano’s, which I’m all over next time.
First, caramelize some red onions in butter, cooking on medium for about 20 minutes. The douse with a little balsamic and cook for another minute or two.
Then, crank up the oven to 500 degrees and cook crust by itself for 3-4 minutes. Then crumble gorgonzola over crust, add sliced figs, fresh rosemary, caramelized onions. Cook with toppings for about 10 minutes.
Also, for the above pizza we draped prosciutto over, which frankly was gilding the lily. I wouldn’t do it again; my husband would.
For past pizza experiments, here are two of my faves:
What you see before you is a Composed Salad of Roasted Broccoli, Romaine, Chickpeas and Walnuts from the July 2009 issue of Martha Stewart Living. Martha suggests either tossing together in a bowl for a traditional presentation, or arranging on a platter for a composed salad. Which is exactly what my sister-in-law Kate did at our in-laws’ last week. If you click on the above recipe, you’ll see that this salad is a hell of a lot of work but well worth the effort—easy for me to say since I wasn’t the one doing the cooking! (Also, Kate made it look deceptively easy, which is crazy considering she was also juggling the soccer schedules of three kids under the age of nine.) The garlicky sweet candied walnuts are amazing, and a perfect complement to the tangy goodness of the goat cheese puree. I love the comforting note of roasted broccoli, and the chickpeas in a sherry vinaigrette are fantastic. Actually, any of these elements on its own would be superb. Served as an ensemble cast, they are sublime!
On our last night in Vermont, we went over to my husband’s Aunt Ellen’s house in nearby Pawlet for a drink before dinner and I loved that she served cold white wine in these Simon Pearce Norwich Beakers. I’ve long been a fan of Simon Pearce and had the pleasure of meeting him a couple years ago. We have several handblown glass decanters and vases from him, as well as our favorite whiskey glasses, which feel so wonderfully heavy in your hand. Yes, that’s whiskey with an “e” — Simon Pearce is Irish. Pearce started his glassblowing business in Kilkenney, Ireland, in 1971 before moving the operation to Quechee, Vermont, a decade later. On our next visit to Vermont, I think we have to take a page out of Ellen’s book (a book out of which I would like to take many pages) and get some of these beautiful tumblers to use for wine glasses. There’s something very welcoming about wine in a tumbler—especially when it’s as pretty as this one.
While we’re on the topic of Dutton’s Farm Stand in Manchester, VT, I also wanted to share the haul I got there for dessert last week: local strawberries, fresh local cream and housemade biscuits.
I tossed the strawberries with some mint that was growing outside the kitchen door, and then drizzled a little balsamic vinegar over the berries. Then we whipped some of that excellent local cream and served on the biscuits.
Strangely enough, the next morning at breakfast my brother-in-law Tim was looking at his hands saying “what is on my hands? Furniture polish?” I didn’t give it another thought until 4 miles into a morning jog, at which point I was pretty much seeing spots anyway, when I looked down and noticed my own hands had a similar splotchy patina. What on earth were Tim and I both doing that nobody else was, I wondered? Then it dawned on me: balsamic vinegar. Tim was helping me mix the berries and I think we both picked up a few and sampled along way. Busted.
This is my mother-in-law’s rolling pin, which was her mother’s rolling pin from her childhood home in Duxbury, Mass. Ditto on the yellow farmhouse table on which it sits. Sometimes a tomato tart tastes just a little bit better thanks to the much-loved rolling pin with which it’s made. Or thanks to the table on which it’s served. As was the case last week at my in-law’s in Manchester, VT:
My husband and I had stopped at the Dutton’s Farm Stand for some tomatoes. They didn’t have any heirlooms, which is what I prefer to use for a tomato tart, but we grabbed what looked good:
On the way home, we swung by Al Ducci’s Italian Pantry (which makes a KILLER meatball sandwich by the by) to grab some fresh mozzarella and housemade pesto for the tart. Lucky for us, while we were at Al Ducci’s they were making up some fresh Italian sausages—we got a ton of the sweet Italian and some hotter-than-hell spicy Italian to grill that night as well.
Back at home, I used the fantastic new Epi iPhone app (download the app immediately; it will change your life) to find my favorite black pepper parmesan tart recipe from Epicurious.com. The pastry dough is easy to make, and even easier to work with. After you’ve mixed and chilled for an hour, roll it out and place into a tart pan. I can’t tell you how good and solid this rolling pin was, love it:
The crust bakes for about 30 minutes, and then cools. Then spread a generous layer of pesto and layer sliced tomatoes and mozzarella.
No more cooking required, which is why it’s important to use really, really good tomatoes. Even better, which I didn’t have, use halved cherry tomatoes to fill in the gaps. And then—this is the most important part—share with the people you love the most.
My husband’s super-talented friend Francis Porter has been working on a docu-series with Homeboy Industries that follows the lives of gang-involved men and women trying to leave the gang life behind. For those of you not familiar with Homeboy Industries, it is the largest, oldest gang intervention program in the country and it’s based right here in LA. For instance, the organization has several businesses, like the Homeboy Bakery downtown where you can pick up freshly baked bread, which creates an environment that provides training, work experience, and above all, the opportunity for rival gang members to work side by side.
So when Francis told me about Homeboy’s virtual fundraiser, I had to blog about it. It’s called Virtual Car Wash. The car wash holds special significance in various urban communities throughout LA. The neighborhood comes together to assist a family in a time of financial need. With the virtual cash wash, we can all help families in crisis. Just $10 will make an impact. You can donate by clicking HERE! It’s tax deductible. And please, please, please spread the word! Thank you!!!!
And I’ll keep you posted about the show’s development. I’ve seen sneak footage and it ROCKS.
The above dessert was served at my friend Booth’s Fourth of July barbecue in Vermont by her longtime family friend, Sidney Kenyon. Have you ever seen sorbet that red? It was just gorgeous. And the pound cake had a crunchy crust, which was to die for. Sidney was kind enough to share her Tea Party Pound Cake and Strawberry Sorbet recipes. The Fourth of July may have come and gone, but we have plenty of summer left—and plenty of strawberries. Thanks, Sidney!!!
Tea Party Pound Cake
This cake is best when made one to two days before serving.
2 sticks unsalted butter, softened
½ cup solid vegetable shortening (Crisco)
3 cups sugar
5 eggs, at room temperature
3 cups all-purpose flour
½ tsp. baking powder
1 cup milk
1 ¼ tsp. lemon extract
1 ¼ tsp. vanilla extract
1 ¼ tsp. almond extract
Preheat the oven to 325. Grease and flour a 10-cup Bundt pan.
In a large bowl, cream the butter and shortening together with an electric mixer. Add the sugar, one cup at a time, beating until the mixture is light and fluffy. Beat in the eggs, one at a time, mixing well after each addition.
In a medium bowl, mix the flour and baking powder together.
Pour the milk into a measuring cup and add the extracts to the milk. It will look muddy, but do not let the color concern you!
Alternate adding the flour mixture and the milk mixture to the creamed mixture. Mix well after each addition. The batter should be very thick.
Spoon the batter into the prepared pan. Bake for an hour and a half or until a toothpick or cake tester comes out clean (be careful not to over-bake). The top of the cake will have a crusty texture. Transfer to a wire rack and glaze as directed.
Glaze:
1 tsp. lemon extract
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1 tsp. almond extract
1 cup sugar
½ cup water
While the cake is baking, combine the extracts, sugar and water in a saucepan and bring to a boil. Boil until the sugar syrup thickens slightly. Pour half of the glaze over the cake when it comes out of the oven, letting the glaze seep down the side of the pan. Let the cake rest for 10 minutes, then invert the cake onto a serving plate and drizzle the rest of the glaze over the cake.
Strawberry Sorbet
Sidney says “I make this in a Braun automatic ice cream maker. Whatever type you use, make sure the bowl is thoroughly frozen according to manufacturer’s instructions. It is essential to use only fresh, local strawberries. Any other berries (frozen or out-of-season) will not have the intense flavor that local, in-season berries impart!”
1 quart local strawberries
Juice of ½ lemon
2/3 cup sugar
2/3 cup water
Make a simple syrup. Bring the water and sugar to a boil and boil until the mixture thickens. Cool the syrup completely.
Hull the strawberries and slice them in half. Place in the bowl of a food processor, add the lemon juice, and process until the berries are pureed. Add as much or little simple syrup as needed to sweeten the berries.
Pour the pureed mixture into a bowl and chill in the refrigerator.
Pour the chilled mixture into the bowl of an automatic ice cream maker and process for about 15 to 20 minutes or until mixture has thickened. It will be soft and creamy–not hard–at this stage.
Pour mixture into a freezer container and freeze overnight.
A special birthday shout-out to the lovely Kim Friday! The above shot is from a birthday past, when her Jimmy Choos ended up in a planter, but I digress. The Foodinista owes many thanks to T.G.I.K.F.—and not just for the Sanford Chocolate Pinot Noir sauce she brought over yesterday. But you see it was Kim who first came up with the term “foodinista” years ago. Happy Birthday, Hot Stuff!
One of the best independent bookstores in the country has to be Northshire Books in Manchester, Vermont. We made several trips during our stay, including one to outfit Tiny G from the Zutano boutique upstairs in the children’s department. (Zutano is a Vermont company that makes crazy cute baby clothes.) You could lose hours browsing the stacks. And the store itself and gardens couldn’t be more picturesque. Check out some of the flowers in the Northshire garden:
Perhaps my favorite aspect of Northshire Bookstore is the Spiral Press Cafe, located in back of the bookstore. The pastries and cakes are pretty, and pretty delicious.
During our stay, in the mornings I jogged (okay “slogged” – slow jog) several miles into town and Tiny G and his daddy would drive in to pick me up and grab a cup of coffee and one of these maple corn muffins. I am not exaggerating when I say that it is the BEST. MUFFIN. EVER.
We just returned home from nine days at my in-laws’ summer place in Vermont, and after just an hour back in L.A., I’m ready to hop the next plane back east. Over the next few days I’ll share some of the greatest hits of memories and meals, but first a few outdoor shots from their place, including the barns above. The birch trees (below) around the house are amazing. Even more amazing, and not pictured, were my father-in-law’s most excellent red suede loafers that made an appearance on the Fourth of July…
We are heading east for the next week, so I’ll post if/when I can! My inlaws have a beautiful place in Manchester, Vermont, as do our friends Booth and Adam. I’m looking forward to tons of grilling with my fabby sister-in-law Kate, long walks with the family, a spa day and birthday dinner with Booth, lunch with my friend Billy and the inevitable outlet shopping, and best of all, Tiny G is finally going to meet five of his six cousins. The above photo is from an (in)famous Fourth of July BBQ at Booth’s place several summers ago. Can’t wait to rinse and repeat! Happy Fourth of July!
A few of you have emailed asking about our kitchen tile backsplash, which is honestly my absolute favorite part of the design! It’s Heath Ceramics from Sausalito (one of the few remaining mid-century American pottery companies still running today). Incidentally, check out the new Heath store on Beverly, inside which my friend Adam Silverman also has a very cool pottery studio.
Even though it looks like there are several different shades of tile, it’s all the same glaze and just varies in warmth because it’s hand glazed! Our tile color is “greystone” and it is the same glaze as our dishes, also Heath, which are French Grey. Our dishes inspired the color palette for the kitchen, from the paint on the walls to the marble countertops (some are white with a brown vein, while the island is brown with a white vein). The design is the GENIUS of Mick de Giulio, who also is responsible for designing the SieMatic Beaux Arts Cabinets in here (and that groovy pot rack, and the plate rack). Mick started with a piece of the Heath tile and one of our dishes and went from there. I think the tile helps bridge some of the mid-century items in the kitchen, like the tables and chairs, with some of the more traditional elements, like the lines of the cabinets. The design nerd in me likes to think the binary pendant lamp, round kitchen table and sphere in the photograph on the wall behind the lamp are all having a conversation. Yeah, I know.
Since de Giulio Kitchen Design is based in Chicago, Mick did all of this sight unseen. Per his request I sent him some snaps of favorite architectural elements from around our house, which was built in 1921, so that the kitchen would feel like it belonged. One of my favorite recurring themes in our house is arches. Check out the arched entry window and front door, built-in book cases and cabinets in the living and dining rooms (not to mention Tiny G’s new Radio Flyer wagon boxed up by the door!):
In a nod to these elements, Mick added this totally great spice “rack” built into the wall:
And then I love this hit of copper for warmth in this deep undermount sink from Franke. In fact, it’s not copper, but copper-hued titanium so very durable and won’t patina. Seriously, this sink is awesome for washing huge pots and pans.
Thank you, Mick! The kitchen is hands-down our favorite room in the house, and where we spend most of our very best times.
I’ve been on again-off again with Bokashi, a Japanese anaerobic composting system that ferments kitchen and garden scraps in a matter of days versus months. I have the Happy Farmer Bokashi composter, pictured above. (To get the scoop on how Bokashi works, click HERE.) And get this: it is pretty much odorless. I can’t believe I’m telling you this, but I had my Bokashi half full in my kitchen last summer and kind of forgot about it because I ended up having a C-section, and once Tiny G was on the scene frankly, well, I had other stuff to do. The better part of a year—a YEAR—went by and I was like, oh yeah, I need to empty the Bokashi. Did mention that it was sitting in my kitchen all this time? For reals.
Terrified I went to empty it, not knowing what kind of nightmare was brewing within. But I couldn’t believe it. Upon opening my Happy Farmer composter, I discovered the contents had fermented and had only a faint pickled odor. So I’m back at it, and this time will get this stuff into the ground in a timely manner. Here’s a peek inside, with scraps from the other night’s ga bop salad (and yes, you can put small amounts of animal fat like chicken skin in the Bokashi, no problem)…
And then here it is with the compost starter sprinkled over:
After, I place a plastic sheet cut out from a plastic placemat, and put it over the contents and put a brick on top to keep it compacted. Then just replace the lid and seal tight, repeating with scraps and adding to the Bokashi bin until full. Then you let it sit, sealed and untouched, for a fortnight, after which you mix it in with your soil. I’ll be using it in my herb garden. My neighbor Debra got me onto this in the first place and I can honestly tell you without any hyperbole whatsoever that the lettuces from her garden and the sweetest and best I’ve ever tasted. Ever.
Vowing to make use of the prolific Vietnamese cilantro in our herb garden, last night I took a page out of Mai Pham’s book Pleasures of the Vietnamese Table to make this Hue Chicken Salad (ga bop). I was apprehensive about serving it to my husband on several levels, not the least of which had to do with the fact that this dish has zero guilt factor, which all too often correlates to zero pleasure. Not to mention that “we’re having salad for dinner” doesn’t usually elicit an enthusiastic response. Additionally, Vietnamese cilantro is quite pungent, sort of like cilantro on steroids so it’s a love it or leave it flavor. The herb is also enjoyed by Vietnamese Buddhist monks to stave off sexual urges, also like steroids, and assist in their celibate lives. But I digress.
Above is the Vietnamese cilantro—or rau ram as it’s known in SE Asia—which has taken over our herb bed. I love how fragrant and pretty the leaves are. I let Tiny G play with a sprig in the garden while I was picking herbs to bring inside. Much to my surprise, my husband TOTALLY flipped over dinner and has requested that it go into regular rotation. It’s so flavorful, with a bit of heat from the chilies and exotic intensity from the rau ram.
But I may have told a teeny white lie about serving a guilt-free dinner. Mai Pham’s excellent and healthy recipe follows with a slightly less angelic suggestion from yours truly. The recipe virtuously has you boil half a chicken in salted water. She suggests serving ga bop on a bed of butter lettuce leaves. I ended up reserving two cups of the water from the chicken to make basmati rice, which adds to the sin factor with a hint of chicken fat, but gives just the right note of depth to the rice.
HUE CHICKEN SALAD (GA BOP)
(Adapted from Pleasures of the Vietnamese Table, by Mai Pham)
Sea Salt
1 organic chicken leg and breast, scored for faster cooking
½ teaspoon ground black pepper
1 teaspoon kosher salt or to taste
1 teaspoon sugar
2 ½ tablespoons freshly squeezed lime juice
1 small yellow onion, sliced paper-thin, rinsed (about ½ cup)
2 Thai bird chilies or 1 serrano chili, chopped or to taste
1 cup loosely packed rau ram (Vietnamese Cilantro) leaves or mint leaves
1/2 tablespoon vegetable oil
1 cup basmati rice
Fill a pot with 2 quarts water and bring to vigorous boil. Add 1 tablespoon sea salt and chicken and bring water back to boil. Reduce the heat and simmer 10 minutes. Remove from heat and let the chicken sit in the pot, covered, for 20 minutes. Remove the chicken and set aside to cool. Reserve two cups of boiling liquid for rice.
While chicken cools, bring two cups broth to boil. Add 1 cup basmati rice, return to boil, and then reduce heat to simmer. Keep covered and continue to simmer for 20 minutes.
In a medium bowl, combine lime juice, onions, chilies, rau ram and oil and toss gently.
Remove and discard the skin and bones from the chicken. Hand shred the meat into ¼-inch thick strips and transfer to a mixing bowl. Add the black pepper, 1 teaspoon salt and 1 teaspoon sugar and gently massage into the chicken. Gently fold into onion and rau ram mixture. Serve over rice.
Last night we watched Gran Torino in HD, and I was struck by several things. First, Clint Eastwood is still smokin’ hot. Second, there are few things more beautiful in this world than a 1972 Gran Torino. Third, food played an important role in the film, bridging cultural gaps and communicating where language couldn’t. I’m inspired to try something Southeast Asian tonight, and maybe I can use some of the Vietnamese cilantro that is taking over our herb garden.
We have a ton of basil—both sweet and purple—so I’ve been using it almost every night. This super easy salad has been in heavy rotation. Grab a box of cherry tomatoes, a tub of bocconcini (small balls of buffalo mozzarella) and toss with aged balsamic, salt and pepper and fresh basil. We have a “Black Cherry” tomato plant, and I can’t wait for the cherry tomatoes to ripen to use in salads and on pizzas and tarts!
I probably make carbonara about once a year because let’s face it, the dish doesn’t exactly land in the health food category. My husband was surprised at just how easy it is to make, thinking it was one of those “restaurant dishes” with magical powers, which somehow could not be recreated at home. My favorite version gilds the lily with heavy cream. And I like to use the Rustichella d’Abruzzo fusilli, which is spaghetti-length hollow corkscrews and nice and toothy, which you really need to stand up to the richness of carbonara. If you can’t find the Rustichella d’Abruzzo brand, I’d recommend going with a thick spaghetti or bucatini instead.
Fusilli Carbonara
17.6 ounce box of Rustichella d’Abruzzo fusilli
1-2 tablespoons olive oil
4 ounces peppery pancetta, chopped
1 shallot, finely chopped
1 garlic cloves, minced
1 cup heavy cream
1/2 cup grated parm
4 large egg yolks
1 cup cooked peas
Freshly ground pepper
Cook pasta in heavily salted water until al dente. Reserve 2 tablespoons pasta water. Meanwhile, heat oil in heavy large skillet over medium heat. Add pancetta and sauté pancetta about 7 minutes.
Add shallots and garlic and cook for another minute. Add cream and cook for about 2 minutes, cream will start to thicken slightly.
Add the cooked pasta to the cream mixture in skillet and stir to coat pasta. Cook for another minute. Remove from heat and add reserved pasta water, parm, egg yolks, peas and a generous amount of cracked black pepper. Serve with a crisp, high-acid bone-dry white wine to cut through all that fat. I think Gavi from Piedmont is perfect.
…a Kelly, Sabrina or Jill? Most of us who were born in the 70s at one time or another played Charlie’s Angels.
I was a Kelly, luckily not a Sabrina, but sadly never a Jill (or later a Kris). Though Farrah Fawcett-Majors, as she was billed at the time, was only on the show for one season, I think it’s fair to say she’s the most memorable Angel of all. And a gifted painter.
Calling all moms, if you’re not already a member of HauteLook.com (where fashion, beauty and design labels sell current merch direct to customers at up to 75% off), this might be the sale that hooks you. Over the next few days HauteLook is catering to the tiniest of customers with baby chic from Feather Baby, Dwell Studio Kids, Liz Lange, Tokidoki and more. The Dwell & Tokidoki just went up on sale a few moments ago…
Here’s a dinner conversation that took place recently with my husband in a restaurant in Belgium:
What I said: “I’ve never heard so much Phil Collins in my life.”
What he heard: “I’ve never had so much self confidence in my life.”
The bottom line is that bad music can quickly derail a conversation. Conversely, when I stop to think about it, some of my best dinners have taken place in restaurants with killer soundtracks: Momofuku’s mix of Bowie, Modest Mouse, Wilco; Pizzeria Mozza’s classic rock with the Stones and Who in heavy rotation; and then as cliché as it might seem, Billie Holiday moodily piping through the speakers at Bouchon in Napa Valley. What’s better than bistro fare with blues?
In addition to being the name of a winery that turns out killer Cabernet, far niente translates roughly to “sweet doing nothing” or as Webster’s says “pleasant relaxation in carefree idleness.” I was reminded of the value of far niente the other night when I decided to put an Italian spin on dinner, when in fact I should have let the produce relax pleasantly in carefree, unadorned idleness. We had defrosted two awesome bone-in New York steaks (we have a freezer full of beef from Heritage Foods USA) and had picked up some corn and red onions from the farmers market. Our newly planted herb garden is totally out of control—who knew Italian parsley multiplied like rabbits?—so I plucked a handful of Italian parsley, basil and lemon thyme for a makeshift pesto with leftover Marcona almonds to go on the steaks.
Meanwhile, my husband grilled our loot to perfection.
Inspired by a Mario Batali recipe I’d seen, I brushed the grilled corn with balsamic and olive oil, sprinkled with mint from the garden and some red pepper flakes. For the onions, I’d made a balsamic glaze stovetop with more lemon thyme and crushed garlic. And here’s the deal. The pesto on the steaks was great, but did the steaks need the adornment? No. And the corn? I’ll take my corn on the cob with plain old melted butter ANY day. And the grilled onions with the balsamic glaze were certainly enjoyable, but the onions were so perfect, so sweet that again, they didn’t need to be “dressed up.” So next time, I’ll save the herbs for a salad and serve the rest of dinner far niente.
Recently my husband and I found ourselves with a couple hours to kill in Antwerp, so I did what any rational person would do in said city and made straight for the Dries van Noten mother ship on Nationalstraat. It’s incredible, and a visit is truly a fashion rite of passage. I was particularly obsessed with belts and baubles, but inexplicably exercised restraint and didn’t purchase. However, now that I’m home I can’t get these sandals off my mind. What was I thinking???
I’m married to a man who loves his cheesecake. Over the past few years I’ve tried making a variety of them, always coming “close” to his ideal but never quite hitting the mark until now! My sister and I dug deep through the Bon Appétit archives to find this recipe from the September 1996 issue for Mascarpone Cheesecake with Balsamic Strawberries. The crust is so retro (almond biscotti crumbs and butter, when was the last time you had biscotti???) that it almost seems revolutionary. And then the strawberry topping is simply market-fresh berries drizzled with your best aged balsamic. We added a heady dose of cracked black pepper for added intensity. Oh. My. God. You could also serve these over vanilla gelato and they would be insane. [Note: it is really important to use the aged "riserva" stuff, which usually runs in the neighborhood of $40+ for 100ml]
To bake the cheesecake itself, first you wrap a springform pan in tin foil. It’s going into a water bath, so it’s important to make sure the tin foil is extra tight so water doesn’t seep in. Then press the crust into the pan.
Then spoon in the decadent cream cheese filling, made super rich and creamy thanks to a generous amount of mascarpone. The prepared cheesecake goes into a water bath and bakes for a good hour and fifteen minutes, or until top is golden brown.
Start this project early in the day, because after baking, the cheesecake needs to cool for an hour before going into the fridge to chill. The recipe says to chill overnight, but we broke into it after four hours and weren’t sorry even for a second. And now I think we’ll have some more for breakfast. Happy Father’s Day!
There’s one thing I’ve learned about my husband: you can take the boy out of New England prep school, but you will not get him out of a driving moc. Seriously, forget it. Since I’ve known him he’s gone through a variety of mocs in varying hues and leathers, ranging from an espresso pebbled leather pair from Zegna to an Allen Edmonds pair in British tan to a pair of dark brown J. Crew numbers I got him last year for Christmas and which he promptly returned faster than you can say “rubber studded sole.” He’s been on the lookout for a new pair for literally months now, until last week when we had a few hours to kill in Antwerp and we wandered into the boutique of French shoemaker, J.M. Weston. There he found a pair of hand-stitched dark brown nubuck mocs (shown here in beige calfskin), and I have to admit they are pretty damn good-looking as driving mocs go. Happy Father’s Day!
There’s a great hot dog story in the July issue of Bon Appétit. Here it is online, Around the World in 80 Hot Dogs. Last night we were in a Spanish frame of mind, and tried the Manchego Cheese and Garlic Dogs, which involves a roasted garlic and roasted pepper relish. When was the last time you roasted a head of garlic? 1992? I’d forgotten how good it is! First, slice off about 1/2 inch from a head of garlic. Then place on tin foil square and drizzle with a teaspoon of Spanish olive oil.
Roast at 400 degrees for about 45 minutes, then unwrap and allow to cool for 15 minutes. Squeeze garlic cloves into a bowl. The recipe calls for jarred roasted peppers, but I had a few red and yellow in the fridge, so I roasted stovetop, diced and then threw in with the roasted garlic, along with some chopped Italian parsley from the garden. And a generous sprinkle of salt.
We grilled some supermarket potato bread hotdog buns, along with some Trader Joes beef hot dogs, and then put sliced manchego on the dog, followed by a generous slather of the garlic pepper relish and then drizzled with sherry wine vinegar. Simple, satisfying and easy—especially for a school night, and all the better with a glass of Rioja. Olé!
Maybe, like me, you think you don’t like mezcal. Your reasons probably involve a worm, in which case they are well founded. I’ve been hearing a lot of buzz about mezcal, but about a month ago tried a sip of allegedly good stuff and, well, it might as well have had a putrid worm in it. However the worm has turned! Recently my friend Jimmy gave me a bottle of Los Danzantes Blanco Mezcal as a consolation prize at our recent Guac Off. The numbering on the back of the bottle (no. 999/1458) was a good indication that this was top shelf stuff, and one sip confirmed it. WOW. Smoky, creamy with vanilla and spice and just a bit of heat. It’s $60/750 ml bottle at K&L Wines in Hollywood and worth every cent.
My very first crush in the first grade was John McEnroe, and I will stand by that to this day. (My husband and I recently saw him at a Lakers game and I was as giddy as a schoolgirl all over again.) True, McEnroe had a wicked leftie slice serve, but it was his Sergio Tacchini that really gave him the edge. I mean…HOT.
Bjorn Borg certainly gave McEnroe a run for his money in Fila, pictured below. Sorry to say it Johnny Mac, but in this particular shot, advantage Borg:
But I would be remiss if I didn’t mention Ellesse—and who rocks it better than Chris Lewis, circa 1982?
Around that time, The Foodinista had convinced her mother to part with a white Ellesse tennis jacket and I just thought I was the greatest thing since, well, McEnroe on grass. I would kill to still have that in my closet. Interestingly, I stumbled upon this shot of Guillermo Vilas decked out in Ellesse, despite the fact that for much of his career he was a Fila guy:
Of course where is Lacoste in all of this? I certainly remember wearing a lot of it as a kid, but I’m drawing a blank on who was wearing it on the court then. Anyone remember? In the meantime, let’s salute its creator, French tennis great René Lacoste, who founded the brand in 1929 at the height of his legendary career. Here is the man, the myth, the legend:
And finally, a shout out to Brit Fred Perry, whose superb contribution to the sport was inventing the sweatband!
Here’s my grandmother on the beach in Cape Cop with a good book and a sack lunch, circa 1946. My grandfather would have just returned home from Paris, where he was stationed during the war. To this day, she is every bit as stylish and always has a good book within arm’s reach. Which got me thinking about summer beach reads. I’ll post soon on some favorite “literary” fashion contenders, but in the meantime my friend Sorina has put together an excellent reading list of chef bios and cookbooks, just in time for the start of summer. I’ll be packing my beach bag posthaste. Thanks, Sorina!
SORINA’S TOP FIVE FOODIE BEACH READS
Lollygagging on the sand with a good book, as the surf beats against the shore and an assortment of children and pets scurry around happily engaged is my dream summer scenario. And from where I’m standing, reading chef biographies is just about the most fun you can have without chugging absinthe. Here’s a quick roundup of some essential chef bios and lovely cookbooks that you can stash in your beach tote along with sunscreen:
My Life in France (2006), by Julia Child
This sentimental, beautifully written memoir charts Child’s journey from bored hausfrau in 1940s Paris to French cooking authority and media maven in the States. It stands as the standard by which all cooking memoirs shall be measured against. Child’s “Yes, you can!” message subtly seeps out from every page. It would be corny, unless it weren’t so utterly inspiring. Child was 36 when she signed up for lessons at the Cordon Bleu in Paris and found her vocation in life. Her knack for the adorable anecdote—such as her recounting a first meal in France as an uncouth American lass (with memorable descriptions of oysters slurped off the shell and sweet farmer’s butter smeared on freshly baked baguettes), or the hilarious story of her Parisian cat getting erotically charged and giving her love bites while she attempted a French accent over the telephone—is magical. This book struck me as a lovely, fully humanistic poem about life, love, and cooking. I finished reading it and realized I had fallen for its author. Hard.
Heat (2006)by Bill Buford
Fiction editor of the New Yorker decides one fair day to ditch his plum job and enlist as a lowly plongeur in the kitchen of Mario Batali’s Babbo NYC restaurant. The resulting diary of his experiences became a series of riveting New Yorker articles, which eventually coalesced into this book. We descend along with Buford into a Hadean realm of spattering grease, un-PC macho behavior and brain-shattering tedium that involves slicing root vegetables and abuse that makes Nazi interment-camp berating look like dancing the minuet. (PS: You get some top dish along the way: Apparently, Batali can put away a dozen wine bottles in one sitting.) Buford’s blend of objective reportage and emotional testimony makes this the ideal go-to tome for anyone who really wants to know what working in the kitchen of a haute-cuisine American restaurant is really like. Halfway through the book, Buford zips off to a tiny provincial town in Italy to learn first-hand the art of butchery at the elbow of Florentine master butcher Dario Cecchini. The ensuing chapters are perfectly informative—but also hilarious, moving, and profound. The critic inside my brain says this effort is couple of books or more awkwardly joined in one package. The person who adores writing and food relishes Buford’s chronicle of a Dante-worthy journey. A grown man who dares to pursue his passion against all reason is a sexy, beautiful thing.
Julie and Julia (2005) by Julie Powell
I stumbled onto this cookery diary with the best of intentions to worship it. Premise: Powell, who holds down a job as a drone at some nondescript Manhattan enterprise, lives in Brooklyn and attempts to cook her way through Julia Child’s 524 recipes included in Mastering the Art of French Cooking. She blogs about it, and voila—snatches book contract and Hollywood passport. (Meryl Streep is going to play Child in a forthcoming big-studio adaptation of the book, opening in August.) Powell has an engaging voice but her perpetual self-berating, aw-shucks attitude grated my nerves after the first 20 pages. She’s a crap cook, her kitchen is pitifully ill-equiped, and one day she discovers maggots under her cutting board. Et caetera. Still, somehow, the meals she produces from Child’s recipes all have magical qualities much enjoyed by her guests. PLEASE, lady! Still: I admire Powell’s skill for turning this cute personal improvement project into a profitable franchise. Ideas—as a wise man once said—are worth millions.
The Devil in the Kitchen (2007) by Marco Pierre White
If you can demonstrate to me that there’s a more entertaining haute cuisine chef than Marco Pierre White, I volunteer to scrub your dirty dishes clean for the next 12 months. This working-class Brit with the loutish temperament of Dennis Hopper tripping on uppers nabbed 3 Michelin stars in his 20s and became the youngest chef to be awarded the honor. His memoir is a hideously fun chart of that journey. White worked, lived, and played hard. Contempo cookery stars such as Gordon Ramsay and Mario Batali apprenticed under him and took his abuse—only to rise later as respected chefs on their own. White’s haute-French cuisine joints—starting with legendary Harveys in London—have been landmark joints of sophistication, wit and excellence. It’s all the more remarkable since White never set foot in France until his 30s. This laugh-out-loud volume devotes an entire chapter to White’s infamous practice of customer cock-slapping—with a full retelling of the iconic episode of him receiving an order for French fries and charging the unfortunate customer $500 for it. White, who, back in his ’20s, looked as fatalistically glamorous as Arthur Rimbaud, charms even at his most churlish. This is a brutally honest, rude, and delicious read.
It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time: My Adventures in Life and Food (2009) by Moira Hodgson
My first reaction to this memoir was that it’s strictly for devout readers of the New York Observer, where Hodgson is now a resto critic. By that I mean it struck me as terminally snobby and borderline obnoxious. Hodgson’s personal history of privilege—she sailed on the Normandie ocean liner back in the ’30s! In first class! Just like Marlene Dietrich, natch!—turned me off big-time, initially. Hodgson can’t seem to help herself name-drop—a function of her being a diplomatic brat, I guess. Still, she has some lovely-written passages in here about her discovery that her daddy was a spy—oopsie daisy!—and her love of cooking suckling pig… I half-heartedly endorse it because Hodgson IS a pretty wonderful writer. But invest in it at your own peril.—Sorina Diaconescu
A couple weeks ago, my friend Robert gave me these totally great vintage juice glasses in a steel caddy, which he found at Sonrisa on Beverly. I plan to use them this weekend to serve dessert wine to friends out on the patio—easy to carry and the perfect size for a little sip of 2004 Dolce with a plum almond tart from Susina Bakery…
Sorry for the dearth of posting the past week—I’ve been traveling and internet access was sporadic at best. But I’m back, jetlagged and heading to bed. Perhaps tonight I’ll be counting Hermès suitcases to lull me to sleep…
Casa Noble’s David Ravandi kindly shared the excellent recipe for what will undoubtedly become one of summer’s favorite cocktails, the Nobelita. Enjoy!
2 part Casa Noble Organic Crystal Tequila
1 part Organic Orange Juice
3 part Pom Pomegranate Juice
Squeeze of Lime
Serve in a martini glass; garnish cocktail with a few fresh Pomegranate seeds at the bottom of the glass
What you’re looking at is the very best incarnation of leftovers EVER. Handmade tortilla from Loteria. Kurobata pork tinga from Carolynn. Fried jumbo eggs from Hollywood Farmers Market. Non-regulation guac from Loteria topped with Loteria chipotle salsa. Hello, breakfast. Goodbye, hangover.
Though The Foodinista did not take home the CASA NOBLE REPOSADO TEQUILA trophy yesterday, she/I did have a strong following with those who like a cilantro-heavy guacamole, including chef Jimmy Shaw of Loteria (clearly, the need for affirmation on my part is strong). I am also generous with the lime juice. I love how fresh the guac tastes with a liberal use of cilantro and lime. One important note: my guac doesn’t use garlic—my feeling is that garlic sends guac in a sweet direction I’m not wild about. But plenty of people love garlic in guac. Which is why the Guac Off is genius, because there are five distinct styles so it really is all about personal preference and I have to say I LOVED them ALL!
One note – sorry, Katie! I feel terrible that I was out of normal salt and only had sea salt on hand, so I hope the consistency wasn’t off – yours tasted GREAT. As you know, your guac had a strong following. Care to share your recipe on TheFoodinista.com? And where are the boys in this? Oscar? Adam? We want your recipes! Just because you rose above trashing talking doesn’t mean your guacs weren’t FIERCE.
I don’t have exact proportions for my guac, but here’s an approximation. We each made an eight-avocado guac, which is a LOT, so adjust as you will…
THE FOODINISTA’S GUACAMOLE
4-6 serrano chiles, seeded and diced
2 tbsp good olive oil
8 ripe Haas avocados, peeled and pitted
1/2 large red onion, finely chopped
1 large bunch cilantro, rinsed and finely chopped
1 ripe heirloom tomato, seeded and diced
Sea salt, lots of it
2-3 key limes, halved
In a molcajete, grind diced serranos into olive oil. Transfer mixture into bowl. Add avocados, onions and cilantro.
Mash with fork, leaving avocado chunks (I don’t like mine too smooth). Meanwhile, I like to salt the hell out of the chopped tomatoes in another bowl to concentrate the tomato flavors. Unfortunately on game day, I had forgotten tomatoes and so my husband ran to the store at the last minute (the drama! the suspense!), and rescued me by bringing back a lovely hothouse tomato, but I didn’t have to do anything beyond seeding and chopping it up. But if you have 30 minutes – sprinkle the chopped tomatoes with salt before you begin your prep, and the result will be intense tomato flavor. Then add tomatoes to avocado mixture. Add lime juice to taste. For 8 avocados, I think I probably squeeze about 2-3 key limes. Salt to taste. And then add a little more salt…
Carolina! Here she is claiming her prize bottle of Casa Noble Reposada Tequila. True, Carolynn is only half Mexican, which means we cannot entirely dismiss her victory as being genetically predisposed. Quite simply, her guac ROCKED. My husband voted for Carolynn’s guacamole. (To keep what little dignity I have left after today’s crushing loss, my ego needs to point out that Jimmy Shaw of Loteria voted for The Foodinista’s guac.) But it was a fierce competition and all five guacamoles were exceptional! Thank you Oscar, Carolynn, Katie and Adam!
And thank you all who came and voted! We had buckets of beer, killer catering from Loteria, super smooth sipping tequila and cocktails from Casa Noble, roasted tomatillo slaw from competitor Adam, Kurobata pork tinga from champion Carolynn, pineapple jicama salad from Trisha, agua fresca from Andrea, empanadas from Missy, tomatoes from Rachel, carne asada from The Foodinista’s one true love, Mezcal from Jimmy, Mexican wedding cookies from Nina, and Valerie tea cakes from Lesley. If you can believe this, I didn’t get a shot of the food. I’m livid. So anyone who has photos, please send!!!
I will post my guac recipe in the next few days, and Carolynn says she will post hers on her blog as well, but in the meantime, here are some highlights from the afternoon:
The winning guac - note the red jalapeño!
Carolynn's salt box, which Nancy Silverton was coveting...
Team Katie, aka "Fighting Irish"
Nobelitas: Casa Noble Organic Tequila, Orange and Pomegranate Juices
Hot Guys who Act, Write, Design, and Negotiate.
Carne asada from Liboria Market, grilled by Mr. Foodinista
NPR's Ina Jaffe and novelist Lenny Kleinfeld
Oscar "No Pictures Please" Garza
Crazy good kurobata pork tinga
Mr. Sulkin, Blue Harvest creator, taking a VERY important call
Okay, we are a little more than 24 hours out from the long-awaited Guac Off. I can’t believe it’s really here! To get my head in the game, I dusted off an old pair of guacamole-colored Manolos to wear to work today—just to intimidate my friend/foe/colleague Katie, who had done one better and had her nails painted a truly vile OPI hue of guacamole. We suffer for our art.
I think I might have the edge though. This evening, Tiny G and I were strolling home from Larchmont Beauty Center, where I had tried on three different shades of green eyeshadow, settling on Belly Dance by Nars—when we ran into two of the neighborhood doyennes, who were far too polite to say anything. C’est la guac. Still, I like to think I can carry green eyeshadow at 5 o’clock in the evening, better yet at 1 pm tomorrow. Here’s to hoping I take tomorrow’s trophy—a bottle of Casa Noble Reposado Tequila! Guac On!
For the past year I have been saving my pennies for a rainy day, which was pretty much the scene here in LA on Tuesday morning after my husband had left for work as two brawny guys unloaded a Weber Summit S-450 with Rotisserie Grill in the rain. Our dear friend Jamie Purviance, who has written several awesome grilling cookbooks (check out his latest: Way to Grill, an indispensable grilling compendium), recommended this model, and I secretly ordered it for my husband to splash out for his very first Father’s Day. In addition to four burners, a rotisserie, smoke box and BTUs galore, the grill is just plain pretty. [Note to Father-in-Law: if you're reading, observe the Tervis Tumbler above!]
My husband literally had no idea this was in the works. You should have seen his face when he discovered it in the backyard! Last night he gave it a test run with some marbled ribeyes and OH MY GOD. I’ll be posting plenty more on this beast throughout the summer and autumn and winter and spring. Can’t wait to try Jamie’s technique for pork loin on the rotisserie, along with The Foodinista’s technique for making a bottle of rosé disappear…
Here are a few of my favorite things: Heath Ceramics bud vases and lavender from our garden. Sometimes I’ll put sprigs of rosemary or sage in them instead. I love how the simplicity of freshly picked herbs complement the clean lines of these vases.
Today we are celebrating our two-year wedding anniversary! Shortly we’ll be heading out to dinner at Lucques, where we got engaged several New Years Eves ago. Tonight when I got home from work, there was a pretty orange and brown bag, and within a red leather Kelly Double Tour leather bracelet (shown in white above). I have a serious thing for leather cuffs, and I’m over the moon about this saucy new red number!
Coffee beans from Ristretto Roasters in Portland, Oregon. Photo by Jackie Danicki.
Easy. That would be Ristretto Roasters in Portland, Oregon. The beguiling Nancy Rommelmann and heartthrob husband, Din Johnson, brew the Northwest’s best cuppa—so deemed by Roadfood authors Jane and Michael Stern in their latest book, 500 Things To Eat Before It’s Too Late: and the Very Best Places To Eat Them (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, June, 2009). As my friend Hillary points out, that’s kinda like being the best lobster in Maine. So cool, Nancy and Din!!! If you are in Portland, get thee to Ristretto’s new Williams Street café! Otherwise, I highly recommend ordering a pound or two of beans online by clicking HERE. I’m a big fan of their Ethiopian Harar, but am dying to try the Mexican Oaxaca Organic. Check out these killer photos by Ristretto barista Dylan Long:
Last night I discovered a bunch of fava beans in the fridge, which I’d bought last week and forgotten about. As usual with favas, after you’ve shelled, blanched and peeled the damn things, one never ends up with as many as intended. So I had to stretch with some mint from the garden, lemon zest, red pepper flakes and grilled asparagus to go along with grilled wild salmon. Seriously good stuff.
First, shell favas and then boil them for a couple minutes in salted water. Here they are shelled and uncooked:
After boiling, drain and put into ice bath until cool. Then peel tough outer shell:
Then cook in a skillet over medium heat with some olive oil, salt and pepper, and a pinch of red pepper flakes for about five minutes, until softened and cooked through.
Meanwhile, my husband grilled the salmon and aspargus, while I ran out to the garden and picked some fresh mint:
Once the favas were cooked through, I smashed with the back of a fork and tossed with chopped mint, some lemon zest, drizzled olive oil and chopped grilled asparagus. The buttery favas are lovely with the bright contrast of mint and lemon and subtle heat of the red pepper flakes, while the asparagus (grilled al dente) adds texture and a bit of intensity.
It stormed most of the weekend in Yosemite, starting right about when we were atop Nevada Falls on Friday morning and not letting up until Sunday morning when we were packing up to leave. The moody weather made for some spectacular lighting. Above is a shot of Half Dome right at sunset on Saturday night. And below are our storm supplies:
We’re in Yosemite this weekend with Tiny G, his Aunt Claire, grandparents and great grandparents—four generations! My dad’s family has been going to Yosemite this same week every year since the 1940s, and childhood memories of tearing around the Ahwahnee and Curry Village cabins with my sister and our cousins are among my most cherished. It’s a tradition we’re thrilled to be able to continue with Tiny G. Have a great weekend!
Yesterday I went to lunch at Loteria Hollywood with my friend/guac-foe Katie. We had pretty much agreed not to talk guac, but then Jimmy Shaw (chef/owner of Loteria) came over to say “hi” and asked us how our upcoming Guac Off was shaping up. Jimmy will be one of the judges at our guacamole contest, which propelled Katie into blatantly attempting to bribe him. Shameless. He also mentioned that he’d spoken to our co-competitor Carolynn earlier that day and that she had told him she was making a test run of guacamole. Seriously, Carolynn. Do you think I’m not going to find these things out???
But because I’m taking the moral high road, I will share here what Katie and I are both adopting as our strategy, a borderline OCD suggestion courtesy of Jimmy. We are going to buy avocados every day next week so that come next Saturday we will have an array of avocados in various stages of ripeness from which to choose. Obsessive? Si. But all is fair in guac and guerra…
The other day I mentioned to my neighbor Martha that I was looking for some vintage metal garden chairs, and she suggested I check out thisisnotikea.com. Which is something I should have done in the first place since all my designy friends are always raving about Alexis and all his groovy vintage finds from the 50s, 60s and 70s at great prices. See something you like online? Email Alexis at info@thisisnotikea.com and set up an appointment. He’s in the Mid-Wilshire area, and you will go ga-ga when you walk in the door. For us, it was love at first sight with these tomato-red 1950s lawn chairs, which we brought home and placed by the fountain.
Here’s a little extra shopping incentive: This Is Not Ikea is a greener choice, namely you are reducing your carbon footprint by recycling and rescuing vintage pieces. Second, you end up with something unique from the ubiquitous “big box” stores so that your garden doesn’t look like you ripped a page out of Ikea.
We’re so inspired by the color of the chairs that we’re going to sprinkle some Oriental poppies to pick up that same vibrant hue through the lavender-scented flower beds, which are filled with a gorgeous array of purple blooms. Here are a few shots of the borders:
gravel path in front garden
around the base of the enormous tree in the back garden
And if you want to see something really dramatic, check out the before and during pics:
So exciting! Next up: the carport. We’ve replaced beams, repainted, added a brick patio beneath and are putting up lattice today over the dilapedated back fences. More tomorrow…
On Sunday, I picked up a 2.5 lb octopus from the fish guy at the Larchmont Farmer’s Market. I looooove octopus, but had never tackled one on home turf before. The raw specimen is really gross, I’m just going to put that out there. Here it is in our sink. This is when I pleaded with my husband to deal with it.
But neither my husband nor I knew what the hell an octopus “beak” was—and we were supposed to remove it, so we panicked we called our friend Hugh, who came right over. Okay, so that little mouth-thing on the belly of the octopus is the beak. Hugh plucked it right out, and I felt really dumb for having called in the first place but relieved that I didn’t have to deal—this time anyway.
So then consulting a recipe for Octopus and Potato Salad in Mario Batali’s Italian Grill cookbook, we threw six cloves of garlic, a few chiles de arbol and two wine corks (which Batali swears help tenderize the octopus) and our de-beaked octopus into a pot of boiling water and then simmered for about 90 minutes.
After octopus is tender (test with a knife), remove from heat and drain and allow to cool. Meanwhile, bring 4-5 Yukon Gold potatoes to a boil and cook until tender, about 15 minutes. Peel and quarter potatoes and put in a medium-sized bowl. Toss with the following: 1/2 cup good olive oil, 4 thinly sliced scallions, a thinly sliced red onion, grated zest and juice of two lemons, and a cup of pitted kalamata olives. Stir and season with salt and pepper.
Drizzle octopus with olive oil on both sides and grill over the hottest part of the grill for 9 minutes until nicely charred, then flip and cook for another 8 minutes.
Cut octopus into 1.5-inch pieces and add to potato salad and gently toss. Serve warm or at room temperature. The results were seriously delicious…smoky, charred, meaty, zesty, so good that I’ll even deal with the beak next time. Maybe.
I’m going to start with a photo of the finished product—a fountain that has been years in the making. Specifically since May 20, 2001, when the magazine for which I previously worked ran a gorgeous photo of a similar fountain on the cover of its special garden design issue. I’ve been obsessed with this fountain ever since, and so two summers ago when we put an offer on the house we now own, I immediately went about securing this concrete pot. It’s from San Marcos Growers, and weighs, oh, about 250 lbs. Loading it into the trunk of my old Audi wagon did about $500 worth of damage. So add that to the tab. I will spare you the fight my husband and I had driving this thing across town, me curled up on my back inside the pot in the trunk in order to stabilize it. (Yes, you read that right.) Or the intricate system my husband devised involving a friend’s Dora the Explorer kid’s table and a goose-down duvet in order to roll the pot out of my car and onto a safe landing.
And then there it sat, untouched, in the disaster of our new backyard for almost two years, collecting leaves.
Until last week. We finally decided to take the plunge and deal with the backyard, centering it on the fountain. The fountain is surrounded by 4 feet of gravel, the same gravel as on the paths in the front, and we’re planting a perimeter of rosemary around it in order to keep Tiny G out of harm’s way. (I can’t wait for the rosemary to thicken into a dense shrub!) As you can see, the pot is a BEAST. It took our landscaper Felipe and two other pretty damn strong men to lift and level it.
I’m so impressed by how Felipe brought it all together. There is a layer of fine mesh atop the plywood, which keeps the gravel from falling in, but allows the water to trickle through to the tub beneath and recirculate so that water continuously spills over the fountain edge (much like an infinity pool). It’s dreamy. And so calming. Now I’m on the hunt for some vintage French metal garden chairs to place beside it for a sunset drink. How pleasant would that be?
We’ve been very, very busy the past few days and have torn up our entire backyard. We’ve planted flower beds, boxwoods and trees, put in gravel, sod, a fountain and brick patio—and over the next few days I’ll post pictures of the progress. But in the meantime, one of my favorite new additions: a redwood raised bed in which we’ve planted tomatoes and herbs. I got up early yesterday morning and got to the Santa Monica Farmers Market about 15 minutes before it opened, as Hayground was unloading their herbs. I loaded up on basil, purple basil, chives, Italian oregano, Italian parsley, Vietnamese cilantro, cilantro, red vein sorrel, marjoram, sage, lemon thyme, thyme, tomato plants, tarragon, mint and lemon verbena. Then the lovely Sess from Verdant Garden Design (verdantgardendesign@hotmail.com) built a beautiful 6 x 2 redwood raised bed for the herbs:
This morning I went to Hollywood Farmers Market to pick up some chervil and shishito peppers to round things out, but neither of the herb guys will have either for at least another two weeks. So instead I got some gorgeous farm fresh eggs and made breakfast, and then sprinkled the eggshells over the herb garden to keep the snails out:
Friday Follies [n., pl.] postings on Fridays about fashion and food in film from guest bloggers with impeccable taste.
Now that economic tides are ebbing, and Clara Cannucciari’s Depression-era cooking YouTube blog has morphed into a bona-fide hit, I feel the time is ripe to whip out my obsession with early ’70s hit The Sting. This deliriously enjoyable caper set during the Depression stars Robert Redford and Paul Newman at the height of their game. As if that weren’t fun enough, the flick also won an embarrassment of Oscars—among them prizes for best film, best director and best costume design.
Legendary Hollywood costumer Edith Head oversaw the wardrobe—recreating a fanciful version of a real, down-at-the-heels historical period, which still yields delicious inspiration today.
The rag-time theme of this film achieved immortality, deservedly so. But if we’re ready to embrace old-time snacks like pepper-and-egg sandwiches, why not take fashion cues from Ms. Head’s witty interpretations of Depression garb?
In this flick, Redford (playing a small-time, backwater grifter) first busts on the scene in a snazzy dark beret, a smart striped shirt and a three-piece suit tailored sharply enough that I suspect his lapel could have sliced clean through chilled butter. I happen to have a theory that Redford in his prime embodied all that is good, wholesome, and smart-allecky inspiring about America, but I’ll forsake it now for objective evidence: Namely, Redford’s outfit in a subsequent scene—a striped, double-buttoned suit in proper brown, accessorized with a proto-psychedelic tie. It’s the kind of look that transcends fads and registers as perpetually elegant.
Newman (playing a famous, down-on-his-luck grafter with a drinking problem) initially appears messy and drooling, but later cleans up nicely in a wide-lapel gray suit and a wide, geometric-pattern tie.
There are some issues that defy logic in this film—note appearance of Redford’s and Newman’s characters in impeccable tux gear with just-so turned-up collars and smart bow ties—Um, they’re lowly grifters!—but overall this is as much a feast for the brain as it is for the eyes.
Sure there are flaws—the flick features solely ONE female character, and she turns out to be an evil bitch. But overall, the delightful twists of the plot dovetail with the wardrobe to create a gorgeous cinematic experience.
If I was to apply to apply the style lessons of The Sting to our everyday lives, I’d boil it down to this trifecta: 1. When in doubt, wear a beret. 2. Sport a tie—or make sure you date/marry a man who is comfortable donning a tie 3. Never discount the possibility of crafting a new persona just by slicking back your hair with gel and combing it down into a part.—Sorina Diaconescu
This is spring simplicity at its best. Slice up a few of bulbs of raw fennel and cauliflower on the mandolin, and then thinly slice up some raw asparagus.
It’s all tossed in a creamy garlic sauce (which is essentially an aioli) that is quickly made in the blender. I would strongly suggest using true, spicy Dijon mustard.
The recipe is from this month’s Gourmet. For the recipe, click HERE. I would dial up the lemon a little in the dressing, and make liberal use of salt.
Yesterday in Whole Foods I spotted some buffalo ribeye steaks and thought what the hell, a little lean protein never hurt anyone. A few things to keep in mind. The reason buffalo is such a healthy option is because it’s super lean—almost no fat, which means almost no flavor (relative to a Nebraska cornfed dry aged 35 day bone-in ribeye at CUT). So seasoning is key with buffalo. We used a liberal rub of cayenne and ancho chile powders, salt and pepper. You want to grill them at high heat, and quickly, or they will be tough. Err on the side of rare (and they will still be more done than you think). My husband grilled them for 3 1/2 or 4 minutes a side. And guess what? They were great! We are going to add them to the weekly lineup.
What you see before you is Mortimer the Pig, aka our beloved molcajete—a Mexican mortar and pestle made from volcanic rock—that we received as a wedding present. Mortimer was billed as being pre-seasoned, but as of this writing, shamefully I have yet to put that to the test even though we’ve had him for going on two years now.
So picture this scene. On Sunday I run into Carolynn Carreño (a vicious competitor in our upcoming Guac Off), and she’s deep in conversation with my very favorite Mexican chef, Jimmy Shaw (chef/owner of Loteria Grill). What do you think they’re talking about? GUACAMOLE. I’m not even kidding. I had to shut it down right there on the spot. Carolynn later confessed that she was asking Jimmy about seasoning her molcajete. She has one like mine (sans snout) and believed hers was also pre-seasoned, only to make a test batch of guac laden with grit. And so, even though Carolynn is fierce, she is also a friend and was kind enough to share Jimmy’s advice for seasoning. First, rinse your molcajete and tejolote in water and allow to dry. Then put a couple scoops of rice rock salt and grind to a fine powder, using short, downward motions and not continuously around the side. [Note: I misunderstood: Jimmy recommends rock salt, but Carolynn has had several others tell her rice so why not try both?]
Do this every day for an eternity. Apparently it will take years to get this thing glassy smooth, and the oils and acids used in making salsas and guacamole help in the process over time, but in the countdown to Guac Off, we’ll be seasoning Mortimer daily to get him in fighting shape.
BREAKING NEWS: Meanwhile, to find out what Carolynn and her molcajete are up to, click HERE.
On Saturday night we had our friends Chris, Alyssa, John and Mia over for dinner. The menu made ample use of rosemary (sprinkled with garlic on lamb chops, tossed with olive oil and roasted potatoes, and featured in a bud vase on the dinner table), so why not drink it as well? I found this simple recipe for Vodka Rosemary Lemon Fizz in the May issue of Gourmet, and it is undoubtedly going to be in heavy rotation this summer. It was a huge hit with both boys and girls the other night, and couldn’t be easier to make. Just boil lemon juice, sugar and rosemary in a small saucepan until the sugar dissolves, then reduce heat and simmer for a couple minutes and then let cool for an hour or so.
To assemble fizz, each glass gets about 2 TBSP of the syrup, and generous splash of vodka and then top with club soda. A rosemary sprig makes a gorgeous garnish.
We just got back from Larchmont Farmer’s Market, where we ran into our friend Hugh. We picked up some overpriced, but super-fresh ling cod, as well as asparagus to throw on the grill tonight, and Hugh was debating vine-ripened tomatoes to put on a pizza. He also had a 2-lb octopus in tow—he got the last one—so we’ve put our name on one for next weekend. But back to the pizza, I’m guessing a lot of us will be leaning that way today what with the Lakers and Celtics games (please, PLEASE, a rematch in finals????). A reminder about that awesome fresh pizza dough from Whole Foods! Here’s our current favorite combo—long-cooked broccoli, fresh ricotta and cracked black pepper. The long-cooked broccoli is dripping in olive oil, so no sauce needed.
Note: The broccoli takes a couple hours to slow cook, so start this early and be sure to make double—it’s great with scrambled eggs and feta on toast or alongside a pork chop.
Also, be sure to let the dough sit out at room temp for a few hours to double (or triple) in size. It results in crispy, flavorful thin crust.
I’m loving these warm LA nights when we can sit outside with a lovely glass of rosé and let time get away from us. K&L Wines has one of my favorite rosés, 2007 Chateau Pampelonne Côtes de Provence Rosé, on sale for $14.99. Larchmont Wine & Spirits also stocks it for a couple bucks more. The pale coppery color is so pretty, and the wine is just as lovely—think wild strawberries, white peaches and just a bit of spice. I love this wine with a simple roasted chicken, but confess I’m more likely to drink it all by itself…
I was rifling through my closet yesterday and rediscovered a favorite skirt by Brazilian-born designer Jussara Lee. My cousin Stefanie introduced me to Jussara five or six years ago at the designer’s atelier in the Meatpacking District. Her bespoke clothes are gorgeous—simple, elegant, sophisticated—with exquisite tailoring. She is also environmentally conscious in her designs, which are often fashioned from sustainable or recycled materials. Or pretty, organic knits that are dye-free.
Also, the MoMA Store currently features one of her designs for the girl on the go, the Chita Clutch. It’s made from handwoven chita, a traditional Brazilian fabric, and decorated with tiririca seeds. So pretty!
For the newly initiated, POSTCARDS is recurring feature with fashion advice from my dear friend Billy, an art consultant with a wicked eye and even wickeder wardrobe. In this edition, he packs his bags for his 20th high school reunion. And for those of you who caught the Gossip Girls ’80s flashback on Monday, the timing couldn’t be better…
POSTCARD FROM HIGH SCHOOL, AMID SUNNY PLANTATIONS
2009 has thus far been a year of great indecision. Perhaps the stress at work—I fundraise and the current economy doesn’t lend itself to having your hand out—has manifested itself in not being willing or able to make snap decisions. It took an old friend booking a flight to Atlanta to prompt my attending my 20-year high school reunion. I had been sitting on the fence about revisiting the ne’er do well days of my youth.
If you are of my generation, certain films were so integral to our youth—most of them from John Hughes. Who could forget Molly Ringwald’s moment getting felt up in Sixteen Candles and that über-cool outfit she wore as Claire Standish in The Breakfast Club? But for this trip down memory lane, I am going to refer to a movie that was slightly post-college, Romy and Michelle’s High School Reunion. As I contemplate this weekend of seeing old friends and acquaintances from two decades past, I wonder, shall I create a fictionalized version of who I am today? Why dwell on the fact that I am not living in the Park Avenue co-op that I thought I would be in at 38 and instead find myself in a rented Atlanta apartment? So what if I am not running a successful art consulting business out of a chic Watergate-style highrise. I might as well dress the part and let no one be the wiser.
FOR BILLY’S WARDROBE PICKS FOR THE 20-YEAR REUNION, CLICK “READ MORE” BELOW…
Any trip to Palm Springs is not complete without a stop at Hadley’s, home of the best date shake as well as a wacko assortment of dried fruits and vegetables from Calimyra figs to okra chips. It’s a great place to load up on Medjool dates, and an even better place to order a decadent shake. I like mine made with half banana, half date (the banana cuts the sweetness of the dates).
Mr. Foodinista goes cuckoo for cocoa puffs over Hadley’s date cookies, which are deliciously chewy. We always grab a tub of wasabi peas and the cookies, invariably eat too many of each in the hotel room over the weekend, and then gobble up the rest back at home.
On Friday we headed to Palm Springs for a weekend of relaxation at the new Ace Hotel and Swim Club. If you book using the Easy Rider special, you get 20 percent off on the room, dining, bar and spa treatments. Formerly a Howard Johnson, the hotel has been totally renovated with an emphasis on being eco-friendly from the organic poolside menu to the solar power rooftop panels to the complimentary bicycles for “green” travel into town. Also, much of the furnishings are vintage. How much do you love the lobby?
I also love the contrast of the stark white and orange against the dessert backdrop:
Our patio room had a fireplace outside, which was great late night after Tiny G had fallen asleep. We ordered room service from the King’s Highway diner and it was really good, generous portions and CHEAP! Here’s a grilled brie sandwich with pickles, and the “pot” brownie for dessert:
Thanks to east-facing windows, Tiny G got us up at the crack of dawn so we got a super early breakfast and went for a morning swim. Below, the Kings Highway Diner (before reasonable people have gotten out of bed) and their ricotta pancakes.
Here’s the main saltwater pool, again, before the crowds have hit (read: woken up).
And here’s a fabby $6 (less 20%!!!) white sangria that I ordered later that afternoon poolside, along with some refreshing ceviche:
The soundtrack that pipes through the outdoor speakers is amazing, as is the playlist inside the spa. I got a massage and for once was spared creepy Zamfir pan flutes, and instead treated to Dylan, Stevie Wonder, Ray LeMontagne and Supertramp, which was far more relaxing. Rooms start at $80 for a single, so get on it! Here’s a peek inside ours:
Friday Follies [n., pl.] postings on Fridays about fashion and food in film from guest bloggers with impeccable taste.
No guest blogger today, so I thought I’d fess up to the most recent movie I’ve seen, Bride Wars. It is every bit as horrifying as the above photo suggests. My friend Billy texted midway through, warning “Bad movie. Just pop in Breakfast Club instead and b inspired by Claire Standish.” As always, I should’ve listened to Billy, but instead sat through the train wreck until the tortuous end. The movie’s only redeeming quality was Vera Wang, who designed both Kate Hudson’s and Anne Hathaway’s dresses. (In general, though, Hudson looked like a total freak show.)
But it got me thinking about other celluloid wedding moments…the good, the bad, and the brutal. Let’s start with the latter:
Vivienne Westwood dress / Sex and the City
I love Vivienne Westwood, and am sure the dress would’ve been amazing on a more feminine bride. But I can’t talk about this bird-in-the-hair situation—or this movie—without getting really worked up. By the way, if you haven’t already checked out this site, sarahjessicaparkerlookslikeahorse.com, here’s a taste of what’s on offer:
Another contender for jaw-dropping wedding garb. What’s worse? A bluebird on your head or a top hat and veil. Tough call:
Molly Ringwald / Betsy's Wedding
In the “kind of blew it but we’ll forgive you because your lashes are incredible” category is the wedding that wasn’t in The Graduate. Though I dig everything Anne Bancroft wears (or doesn’t wear) in the flick, the contrast of her daughter’s frumpy wedding dress is just too heavy handed. The neckline on Katharine Ross’s frock has to be the work of Gunne Sax.
And yet, with an equally conservative neckline, look at how RIGHT Connie (Talia Shire) gets it in my all-time-favorite movie wedding scene, from The Godfather.
And I can’t help loving Vasundhara Das’s red in Monsoon Wedding. How gorgeous is she?
Can anyone think of any other really good wedding dresses? I can think of plenty more bombs (and could devote an entire oeuvre to Julia Roberts as bride, both onscreen—Runaway Bride, Steel Magnolias, Notting Hill—and off: Lyle Lovett, Daniel Moder)…
Okay, Oscar de la Renta this is not, but can you guess the designer of this graphic linen sundress? One friend guessed Michael Kors. Another ventured Anthropologie. In fact, it is from Old Navy and cost $24.50! Upon revealing this to one inquisitor, I could tell that she liked the dress a little less after learning of its plebeian origins, which kind of made me love it all the more. I deliberately bought it a size too small so it fits a little more a-liney retro-mod and a couple inches above the knee—less sack-like—and have worn it to work with navy tights, tomato-red patent-leather flats and a little cashmere cardigan. On the weekends, it takes a casual turn with flip flops. I can tell I’m going to live in this all summer.
Last night we made our best margs of the season. Note the technicality: made and not drank. We are lucky enough to live across the street from Martha, maker of the world’s best margaritas, so we happily drink superb margs throughout the year. One of these days I’ll get Martha drunk enough to share her magic mojo. But until then, here’s second best:
Foodinista’s Go-to Marg
Makes 4 stiff drinks
Kosher salt
1/3 cup fresh lime juice
1 cup Don Julio blanco tequila
1/2 cup triple sec (or better yet – 1/4 cup triple sec; 1/4 cup Grand Marnier)
Sprinkle salt onto a small plate. Take a juiced lime peel and rub around rims of glasses, dip glass rims in salt. Pour lime juice, tequila, and orange liqueur in a shaker full of ice. Shake and strain into salt-rimmed glasses.
This evening I heard a ratta-tat-tat at my back door, and opened it to find my dressed-to-the-nines, 81-year-old neighbor Joyce (and her stylish Jack Russell, Chelsea). Joyce had half a dozen squash beautiful blossoms to share with us, and I knew exactly what I wanted to do with them. I grabbed some crème fraîche and feta out of the fridge, and mixed a dollop of the crème fraîche with some crumbed feta.
Then I spread the feta mixture on one half of a tortilla, and then topped with torn squash blossoms and a little freshly cracked pepper.
Then I folded them over, and deep-fried them in vegetable oil for a couple minutes, flipping once and burning the hell out of my hand in the process, so ¡cuidado! And Feliz Cinco de Mayo!
P.S. The quesadillas were muy bueno!
P.P.S. I don’t habla español so good. Does it show?
My sister was visiting this weekend, and was wearing a pair of gold “Fruit Punch” sandals ($32) from Reef. They are water friendly with a rubber sponge sole, and have all the comfort and anatomical arch support that makes Reef flip flops so great. Maddenly, they look almost identical to a pair of Kate Spade gold leather sandals I spent almost ten times as much on a couple years ago. My sister was wearing the Reefs with a coral-pink strapless Milly “Sumatra” print sundress. They would also be fun with a really good pair of white jeans.
Before Tiny G arrived on the scene (BG as it’s known around here), I used to make my own pizza dough, and I’ve been dying to try the Overnight Pizza Dough from the April issue of Bon Appétit. But after purchasing premade pizza dough from Whole Foods this morning, I may not need to look any further. My friend Hugh has been raving about it on GastroKid, so today I picked some up. As you can see, the dough is very much alive (elapsed time between photos three hours). Note: for crispiest and most flavorful crust results, Hugh lets the dough rise several hours, which we did. (After it doubled in size, I put it in a covered bowl in the fridge and then brought to room temp before using.) Here it is making a jail break:
Oh, and it’s only $3. As much as I’d love to tell you that homemade dough is so worth the effort, after trying Whole Foods’ fresh dough, I’m not so sure. (Unless you are Nancy Silverton, in which case, yeah, your homemade dough trumps.) So about half an hour before baking, crank up the oven to 500 degrees. We were given an awesome Mario Batali pizza pan as a wedding present. I highly recommend it, but a baking sheet would work well, too. First, sprinkle your pan with cornmeal.
Stretch dough until it stretches to fit your pan, pinches edges and rotating. Here’s my sister showing us how it’s done:
Place dough on pizza pan. Since we like a crispy crust, I put the crust in—by itself without toppings—for 4 minutes. (I find this a particularly good strategy if you are using wet toppings, like a sauce or mushrooms, which can give off a lot of moisture.)
We spread pesto over the barely cooked crust. I didn’t have time to make my own, so this was from Academia Barilla from Liguria and is really good for jarred. And what could be faster?
From there we put it back in the oven for 10 minutes, until the crust was golden brown. Insanely good. I used an Alessi roller in the below photo mostly because I love the color, but last year for Christmas my friend Diane gave me an oversized Mario Batali pizza wheel and it works much, much better. Oh, and a word about the pizza: perfection. We saved a piece for my husband when he got home from the fight, and he declared the best piece of pizza he’d ever had (adding, other than Mozza). And the whole thing took five minutes to assemble.
Here’s another winner from the current issue of Gourmet. It’s INSANE! We made this Balsamic-Marinated Radicchio with Ricotta and Basil last night to go with the lamb. Start it a little early because you broil the radicchio for a few minutes and then it marinates in the balsamic marinade with crushed garlic for at least an hour.
Then you simply toss the radicchio with fresh basil leaves. The fresh ricotta gets a drizzle of olive oil. Serve together.
Thankfully we have leftovers. Tonight while my husband goes to a friend’s to watch the Pacquiao-Hatton fight, my sister, Tiny G and I will make pizza with last night’s radicchio and ricotta! Check back tomorrow for results…
Usually when we grill lamb chops around here, we simply brush them with a little olive oil and crack some salt and pepper over. The recipe for Grilled Lamb Chops with Porcini Mustard in the current issue of Gourmet may have changed all of that. You make a paste of crushed garlic, coarse salt, chopped rosemary and spread over the lamb chops.
Then you grill for about 3 1/2 to 4 minutes a side for medium-rare. But the pièce de résistance is the porcini mustard sauce, which would be great with steak as well. From epicurious.com:
Soak mushrooms in boiling-hot water (2 cups) until softened, about 20 minutes. Lift mushrooms out of water and strain liquid through a paper-towel-lined sieve set over a small saucepan. Coarsely chop mushrooms.
Boil mushroom liquid in saucepan until reduced to about 1/4 cup, 13 to 15 minutes. Whisk in mustard, butter, and 1/8 teaspoon pepper and simmer until slightly thickened, about 2 minutes. Stir in mushrooms. Transfer to a small bowl and cool slightly. Stir in 2 tablespoons parsley.
My sister is in town from St. Helena, so we are chilling down a bottle of Schramsberg Blanc de Noirs—a rich golden hue—and are counting the moments till we pop the cork to commence the evening’s festivities. Hope your weekend is off to a bubbly start!
Friday Follies [n., pl.] postings on Fridays about fashion and food in film from guest bloggers with impeccable taste.
America needs a good celluloid food fight.
There’s nothing like a projectile pie or flatulent cowboyto take people’s minds off grim economic news.
But what ever happened to clever food gags in film? It’s been three decades since John Belushi invaded the cafeteria in Animal House, 25 years since a giant marshmallow stalked Manhattan in Ghostbusters and 21 years since Tom Hanks tried to eat baby corn like its full-sized cousin in Big.
Except for a teenager having sexual relations with a pie, the last decade has been virtually bereft of cuisine-related comedy. Sure, there was a food fight in Bratz: The Movie, but who wants to subject themselves to the rest of the flick in order to see it? (I swear I only know about the scene because of a Google search.) Ratatouille dished up a few food jokes, and Madagascar parodied American Beauty’s falling rose petals sequence with a dream about falling steaks.
But cartoon kitchen comedy doesn’t count. That basically leaves us with Ben Stiller’s addition to the fondue inMeet the Fockers.
So, while America waits for Hollywood to revive the tradition of edible humor, here are my nominees for top five comedy food scenes:
5. Caddyshack (1980): A candy bar posing as poop clears the pool – and later gets eaten by Bill Murray.
4. Animal House (1978): Bluto inhales half the buffet, imitates a zit and starts a food fight that many consider one of Hollywood’s best, but it actually lasts just 3 seconds.
2. The Great Race (1965): If Jackson Pollock had worked in pies instead of paint, his art would have looked like the aftermath of this film’s colossal food war.
1. Sleeper (1973): Woody Allen carries the concept of food fight to its absurd extreme on a futuristic farm that grows goliath bananas, strawberries and chickens.
The other day I mentioned in a post about heirloom beans, that when cooking beans it’s best to use some sort of fat—be that olive oil, freshly rendered lard or bacon fat. The mention of the word “lard” seemed to cause something of a stir, prompting one reader to comment that it was “fattening and disgusting.” Turns out, there’s a difference between fat and fattening—and recent research shows that lard may have gotten an unfair rap. (The fresh kind that is, not the industrial scary stuff.) In fact, according to bonappetit.com, freshly rendered lard “contains less bad (saturated) fat and more good (monounsaturated) fat than butter.” Think of it more closely akin to olive oil. For more info on fats, check out this article by Nina Planck. And thanks everyone for joining the debate!
Next time we’ll talk about my favorite diet food, melted lardo (cured pig fat with rosemary) on crostini, and after that we’ll discuss why I can no longer fit into my blood red velvet Gucci tuxedo pants from Tom Ford’s final collection for the label, circa 2004…
So it was with mixed feelings that I discovered that this great bottle of $15 Feuille de Garance Côtes-du-Rhône comes from French screen legend Jean-Louis Trintignant (who got his start opposite Brigitte Bardot in And God Created Women). But after tasting the wine, I forgave all. It’s an intense, alluring wine with maturity and mystique, and much like the actor, a bit of a thrill!
“I feel like California is so casual,” said my friend Dana, dressed in a fabulous Armani silk slip dress in neptune green with silver scalloped detailing at the neckline—like glimmering half shells. She also had on blue heels and a sort of sky blue silk wrap. The whole effect recalled the colors of a Botticelli. It was 10 o’clock in the morning. It was ten o’clock THIS morning. God love you, Dana!
Sorry for the delay – got home from work on the late side last night, so here I am a day late with my bean odyssey. At a crazy good dinner party on Saturday night, my friend Katie gave me a bag of these heirloom Vaquero Beans from Rancho Gordo. Actually Katie was pretty clear that they were “on loan,” so I’ll be hitting up my sister to bring a few replacement bags from Napa Valley next time she comes down to visit. First off, can we agree that they are stunningly gorgeous? Like an Appaloosa horse. Love! So to get going, first I rinsed them in super cold water. Then I put them in a pot and covered with an inch of water and soaked for six hours. Yes, that’s right. Six hours.
From there, I consulted Rancho Gordo founder Steve Sando’s instructions for cooking beans. (Note: Sando has an awesome new Heirloom Beans cookbook, click HERE to order.) Per Sando’s advice, I made a makeshift mirepoix with onions, carrots and garlic I picked up at farmers market sautéed in olive oil – makeshift because I realized too late I had no celery. C’est la guerre. But basically all you need is water or broth and some sort of fat (I used olive oil, but freshly rendered lard or bacon fat would be mighty nice). I added my pseudo-mirepoix to the beans and their liquid, brought to a boil for five minutes, and then slow cooked on super-low heat for several more hours. Check out that amazing, rich liquid they give off. So flavorful!
Meanwhile my husband grilled red, yellow and orange bell peppers along with Maui sweet onions, and we tossed with the beans, fresh thyme and some crumbled French feta, which we picked up from Laurent Bonjour—the “French cowboy ” with the cheese truck at the Larchmont Farmers Market (which conveniently works with the whole vaquero angle). The dish was as delicious as it was beautiful. I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating. Mr. Foodinista knows his way around a grill!
And I know my way around a corkscrew, which I pressed into action to open a cold bottle of crisp, minerally 2007 Domaine Leflaive Mâcon Verzé—a Chardonnay from the Puligny-Montrachet region of Burgundy and a great value at $27. It was made by one of my very favorite winemakers in Burgundy, Pierre Morey (a true pioneer in biodynamics, not to mention one of the most gracious winemakers I’ve ever met) before he stepped down last year as Leflaive winemaker to concentrate on his own label. Here’s to you, Pierre!
NOTE: We were in the mood for white wine (the White Burgundy was lovely; a Sancerre or Vouvray from the Loire would have been even better with the tangy feta). If you prefer a red, a nice cru Beaujolais would kill with this combo!
Saturday night we went to what has to be one of the best dinner parties in memory at our friends Katie and Matt’s. Let’s just say that when one of your fellow guests shows up with vacuum-sealed terrines of pheasant pâté—made with pheasants he hunted on his father-in-law’s ranch in Oregon and topped with thinly shaved black truffles, which we enjoyed with a Louis Bouillot sparkling rosé—that the bar has been set pretty high. But yet rise to the occasion our hostess did. Yours truly did not wish to be rude by showing up with camera in hand, so I’ll simply describe the menu to you here. I’ll be cribbing parts of it this weekend when my sister is in town to visit Tiny G.
Some of the boys got into the Talisker on the porch after dinner, but for once in my life I made the sensible decision to abstain. There’s a first time for everything.
One final note about those Tuscan beans. Katie used heirloom Peruvian Mayocoba beans from Rancho Gordo, and they were nothing short of exceptional. She had ordered a bunch, and “loaned” me a bag of Vaquero beans, which I experimented with yesterday and will post about later today. Finally, no matter how close I come to approximating the above menu, I will be missing two key elements—Katie and Matt’s gracious hosting and their incredible Craftsman home. House envy will be another post…
Friday night we made it through about an hour of the HBO Grey Gardens remake with Drew Barrymore. (Above photo from the original 1975 documentary about the Bouvier cousins in East Hampton.) My friend Billy loved it, and if he were at all reachable I would demand that he state his case right here and now, but alas he is in Dallas this weekend, having attended last night’s Art Ball benefitting the Dallas Museum, wearing a midnight blue Dolce & Gabbana tuxedo jacket with black Prada pants, black tuxedo shirt and vintage black YSL bow tie with patent leather lace-ups. I know he’s been obsessed with Drew’s hair lately, particularly at the Golden Globes (below) but I’m going to need more…
Chez Foodinista, today we are staging our own version of Grey Gardens. That is, we’re painting our garden wall Meadowood Gray—the color used at Meadowood in St. Helena (below), where we got married two years ago. The guys at the St. Helena Paint Works kindly shared the formula. We’re starting with the garden wall, but plan to paint the whole house in this dreamy sandy gray with cream trim later this year! (By which I mean sometime before 2020.) I’ll post before after pics of the wall here later today.
Update 9:10pm: We are still watching paint dry – looks great!…. photos forthcoming….
The other morning I met a friend for breakfast at BLD—Breakfast Lunch Dinner—restaurant on Beverly. The ricotta blueberry pancakes and fried egg sandwich with gruyère here are legendary. Their coffee arrives in a silver French press, and has to be some of my favorite restaurant coffee around. I love it. This last time, I went a marginally more virtuous route than my beloved fried egg sandwich and got the house-smoked salmon scramble.
But the most delicious aspect of this week’s visit to BLD were the two incredibly chic women sitting next to us speaking what sounded like some sort of Chinese dialect, each with a white Goyard St Louis tote casually slung over her respective chair.
In addition to the matching Goyards and Cartier love bracelets, one woman was wearing a pair of leopard-print Tori Burch Reva ballet flats, which I’ll forgive her, because she was also wearing this gray Chloe sweater jacket I’ve been lusting after (in another life, that is). Her companion was wearing a lovely little lightweight Marc Jacobs-y khaki jacket, white jeans and these beautiful blue Chloe peep-toe sandals. (Someone has a teeny tiny Chloe fixation.)
They say that breakfast is the most important meal of the day, after all, so why shouldn’t we dress for it?
Wow, so this is really happening. After five years of running my mouth about this, I’ll be facing off against some truly formidable competitors in a little over a month for the title of Best Guacamole. A taste of the competition: My friend Katie is ruthless. Let’s just say she beats boys at sports, handily. And Katie being Katie has already begun sourcing avocados. Like I’m not onto her… Carolynn has a James Beard Award under her belt and, oh yeah, she writes cookbooks with Nancy Silverton. And my friend Oscar launched the much loved, and much missed, magazine Tu Ciudad. Basically I’m up against a bunch of slackers. It’s time to get my head in the game.
Has anyone tried the Kettle Black Bean Tortilla Chips? At first I resisted because I felt like they were they vanilla vodka of the tortilla chip world. But then recently we had some along with guac, and they were totally addictive. I probably couldn’t have identified that they were made with black beans if I’d blind tasted one, but regardless I love the hit of onion and garlic in there and that certain black bean je ne sais quoi. Also, they’re made with organic corn, if that sort of thing helps you sleep at night.
I plan to serve them as one option at my long-awaited “Guac-Off.” For years I’ve been threatening to organize this because I think my guac rocks, my friends Katie and Adam think their respective versions are better, and my friend Oscar threatens to throw his sombrero into the ring. I hesitate to invite my neighbor Martha (a third-generation New Mexican) to participate because I think she could take this competition, but yes, this year we’re finally going to settle this matter. Stay tuned…
Whenever my husband is on his own for dinner, and often when he isn’t, you’ll likely find him scarfing a Chicken Milanese sandwich. His favorite is from Joan’s on Third. Joan’s is our favorite spot at which to meet for lunch for a midweek “date.” The rendition of the Chicken Milanese features lightly breaded chicken with melted provolone and a tangy mustard aioli on a baguette. A couple days ago we met there for lunch, and tried a side of the potato salad, which is a new fave. It’s a simple mix of red potatoes tossed in a mustard vinaigrette with chopped Italian parsley. And frankly, if you transferred this into one of your own bowls and served at home, you’d quickly get a reputation for having the best potato salad around…
Apparently Marisa Tomei does not like to wear shoes. And to be honest, when it’s close to 100 degrees outside and I’m wearing a four-inch stiletto that feels two sizes too small, neither do I. But wear them I do. Especially if I’m having lunch on the shaded patio of a favorite restaurant in West Hollywood, as I was today with a totally hilarious New York Times best-selling author. I may not have noticed Ms. Tomei (who looked gorgeous from the ankle up) had it not been for her shoes—a fantastic pair of black leather woven sandals with leather ankle ribbons. So chic. Had they been on, that is. I’ve been looking for a good pair of black sandals, so these, sitting on the ground all alone to left of her chair, caught my attention—are they Marc by Marc, See By Chloe, maybe Sigerson Morrison? I wondered.
But then I got grossed out. Going barefoot in a restaurant has to be some kind of health code violation. Plus, I felt really bad for those abandoned sandals. So much so that I feel like I should adopt these, just to do my part:
The last two nights have felt a lot like summer, so we’ve been eating as such. Yesterday a friend gave me several gorgeous heirloom tomatoes—the first of the season. So last night we made tomato sandwiches, simply sliced tomatoes on lightly toasted multigrain bread from La Boulangerie with a little mayo, sprinkled with fresh thyme and crumbled feta. Heaven.
The previous evening we grilled up a couple slices of bread as well as yellow, red and orange bell peppers, asparagus and large spring onions, which we tossed with olive oil and fresh chopped chives. We washed it all down with cold, cold glasses of pale coppery pink rosé from Spain and stayed outside talking late into the night. Our first taste of summer and how sweet it is.
This week’s budget wine tip comes from an unexpected source: an opera fanatic friend of my parents, who is also the father-in-law of the VP of one of Napa Valley’s premier wineries. A man of discerning taste! Said friend picked up a bottle of the 2007 Trinchero Family Vineyards Sauvignon Blanc to use for cooking clams. But then, as he was cooking, he sampled a glass. And guess what? It was magical. Citrusy, with tropical fruit and perfectly refreshing. And it cost $6 at his local wine shop!
If you missed Booth Moore’s story about TOMS shoe founder, Blake Mycoskie, in yesterday’s Los Angeles Times, click here. My [awesome] acupuncturist has long been a fan of these slip-on canvas shoes with rope soles, purchasing hers at Uncle Jer’s in Silver Lake. They’re also available at American Rag. Recently I dove in and got a pair of University Navy Rope Sole TOMS. After all, these are shoes with a conscience: for every pair you purchase, TOMS will donate a pair of shoes to children in need as part of their ONE FOR ONE mantra. Check out these TOMS on tiny people in need, below. I love this company!
Update 4/21/09: If you are looking for TOMS in your area, click HERE for a list of retailers.
A couple months ago, I was at a friend’s birthday party with beautiful slow-cooked vegetables and beautiful people. The birthday girl, Carolynn, is an amazing cook and has a way with vegetables. Among the many platters of gorgeous produce offerings procured from Chino Farm was an INSANELY good dish of long-cooked broccoli. I’d never had anything like it—sweet, earthy, nutty and decadent all at the same time. It’s a dish Carolynn learned from Nancy Silverton, who features the method in a recipe for Soft-Scrambled Eggs, Long-Cooked Broccoli, and Feta Cheese in her eponymous sandwich book.
Last night, I decided to try it out with two heads of broccoli. I figured with that kind of time commitment, we should get at least a couple meals out of it. All in all, it takes about 2 hours to stew the broccoli with onions and garlic. Once it was finished, we grilled up some heritage pork chops and enjoyed with half of the long-cooked broccoli.
Then this morning we walked over to Larchmont Farmers Market to get some whole grain bread from La Boulangerie, and some farm-fresh eggs and chives to make the best breakfast sandwich I’ve tasted. EVER.
For the sandwich, we grilled two pieces of bread doused with olive oil in a panini press, soft scrambled 6 eggs, and then assembled with broccoli, topped with scrambled eggs, topped with crumbled feta, chopped chives and cracked black pepper. We had plenty of leftover broccoli for three sandwiches (Mr. Foodinista polished off a second). We are already planning our next rendezvous with the long-cooked broccoli.
LONG-COOKED BROCCOLI
Adapted fromNancy Silverton’s Sandwich Book
2 heads broccoli
1/4 cup, plus 2 teaspoons, kosher salt, divided
4 garlic cloves, peeled and thinly sliced
1 small yellow onion, peeled and thinly sliced
1/2 cup, plus 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 whole dried red chile
Cut the head of broccoli off the stalk, leaving about 1 inch of the stalk still attached. Slice outer layer of fibrous peel off main stalk, and cut it vertically into long, flat slices, about 1/4-inch thick and 1-inch wide. Slice all the way through broccoli florets, cutting it vertically into 1-inch-thick pieces. You should have a bunch of long pieces of broccoli.
In a large pot, bring 8 cups of water and 1/4 cup salt to boil. Cook all of cut-up broccoli in water for 2 minutes, until broccoli turns bright green. Drain broccoli and place in large bowl of ice water to chill. Drain well, and pat dry with kitchen towel.
In a large, heavy skillet, combine broccoli, onion, garlic, chile, olive oil and 2 teaspoons salt. (We didn’t have any large dried chiles on hand, so I threw in a couple of chiles de arbol instead.) Over very low heat, cook broccoli, stirring occasionally, for 1 1/2 to 2 hours, until it’s very soft and tender. Season with salt and pepper to taste.
A couple nights ago we went with our friends Katie and Matt to STREET, Susan Feniger’s new restaurant in the former Highland Grounds coffee shop on Highland just above Melrose. The menu is inspired by global street food, with an emphasis on vegan and environmentally sustainable ingredients. I had heard great things from a couple of other foodie friends as well as Jonathan Gold’s review, but had read mixed reviews on EatingLA.com. I’m a fan of Feniger and her cooking, so I was predisposed to love this place, particularly since it’s in my neighborhood.
First off, the menu is challenging to navigate—a veritable palate whiplash from Scandinavia to Southeast Asia, and many ports of call in between. I, for one, would find it more accessible if it were reorganized by region instead of, say, one lump category: “Noodles, Soups, Stews, Curries”, a category that represents the cuisines of Thailand, Japan, Italy, Singapore, Vietnam and India.
Knowing the Too Hot Tamales, I feel confident that Feniger’s solo venture will find its sea legs. But to put it gently, there were a few missteps. The first was the amuse bouche sent out to each table—puffed millet with curry, marshmallow, black currants, coriander and fennel seed, a sort of savory rice krispie treat. I wanted it to be crispier, but it was chewy and stale and dominated by untoasted whole fennel seeds.
With our cocktails (I got a lovely Hemingway Gin & Tonic made with Junipero, an intensely juniper-y gin from the folks at Anchor Steam that shows no quarter) we ordered the Moldavian Meatballs—ground beef and kashi simmered in a sweet-and-sour tomato sauce with dill sour cream—which were pretty good, but a little on the sweet side.
I liked the cardamom, ginger and soy filling in the pork dumplings, but the dough on the dumplings was gluey. The spiced potato paranthas—flatbread stuffed with spiced potatoes and fried in butter—got mixed reviews from our table. Katie and I liked them more than the boys did.
The New Jerusalem Bread Salad—a take on Middle Eastern fattoush—was so over-salted and heavy on the cumin that it was barely edible. There were also next to no Jerusalem artichokes involved.
The Egyptian-style Baked Fish (Artic char) was cooked nicely, but the bed of kushary (lentil and macaroni) was off-putting both from a flavor and texture perspective. The dish went largely untouched.
The one dish we all loved was the Stir-Fried Noodles with Shrimp, Pork Belly, Chinese broccoli and choy sum greens. But here, I’d like to point out that we had ordered family style and they brought one big bowl with a large spoon. Not particularly user friendly with large egg noodles.
But where things really went south were in the beverage department. First let me say that the beer, wine and cocktail selection is fun, smart and accessible. The drink vessels, however, are not. I ordered a glass of Côtes-du-Rhône blanc, and it arrived in this precious Sanbitter bottle that looks like a bud vase, along with a diminutive tumbler from which to drink.
From a service standpoint, I think we were there on a REALLY off night. While we waited 20 minutes for dessert (soggy Turkish doughnuts), I ordered a coffee, which was delivered in a glass tumbler and was so damned hot I couldn’t pick up the glass. I asked our server if he could pick it up, and he agreed it was way too hot, adding, “it was probably sitting under the heat lamp for a while. Let me see what I can do.” He walked up the ramp toward the bathroom and seconds later reappeared with what looked to be the same exact glass of coffee, which was still too hot to pick up.
So, if you are heading to Street, let me know when the coffee mugs are in. And hopefully by then the kitchen will have fully caught up to Feniger’s clever, if ambitious, concept.
Last Saturday night—correction: early Sunday morning—when my husband and I were punching down dough for sticky buns in the wee hours, my husband turned to me and said, “well, this gives whole new meaning to ‘late-night baking.’”
My husband, who has much more fortitude than I, had been enlisted to help me navigate my grandmother’s recipe for sticky buns that we were taking to an Easter brunch that following afternoon. It should be noted that what I had scribbled down was not really a recipe, but more of a suggestion of a recipe. My grandmother is one of those effortless and elegant cooks who has never consulted a recipe, and at the age of 90 still whips up a batch of these sinful sticky buns without a second thought to her perfect pink manicure.
I, however, am not a natural-born baker—I have neither the patience nor precision for baking. Which is why I had to consult a professional chef late-night to talk me off the roof when my dough wasn’t rising fast enough, and placed several panicked phone calls to my mother for reassurance—something that only happens in extreme cases of emergency. But the end results were positively stupendous. That said, it’s a LOT of work. Start this process the day before. Also, make sure you knead the hell out of the dough for the full 8-10 minutes. It helps both with rising as well as perfect texture.
Esther’s Cinnamon Rolls
Makes 24 rolls
1 3/4 cups sugar, plus 1 teaspoon, divided
½ cup hot water (105 to 110 degrees)
2 .25-ounce packages dry yeast
7 egg yolks, plus 1 whole egg
1 cup heavy cream
2 cups whole milk
3/4 cup butter, melted
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 teaspoon salt
8 cups all-purpose flour
4 tablespoons ground cinnamon
Buttercream Icing
2 sticks (1 cup) butter, softened
1 1/2-2 cups confectioners sugar
2 tablespoons cold milk
Vanilla extract, to taste
Grease two 13 x 9 x 2 baking dishes. To activate yeast, mix 1 teaspoon sugar, yeast and water. Let stand until foamy, about 8 minutes. I used RiZE yeast from Whole Foods, and after much googling discovered, ironically, that it takes longer to rise than, say, Fleischmann’s. Frankly, I’d go with Fleischmann’s next time.
Using electric mixer, beat egg yolks and whole egg, and slowly beat in ¾ cup sugar. Add cream, milk, butter, vanilla, salt, and yeast mixture. Stir in 8-9 cups of flour, and mix until dough is soft.
Transfer the dough to a lightly oiled work surface, and knead for 5 to 8 minutes, or until it’s smooth. Or knead it in an electric mixer, using the dough hook, for 4 to 7 minutes at medium speed. Place the kneaded dough in a lightly oiled bowl, turn to grease all sides, cover the bowl with plastic wrap and a dish towel, and let it rise in warm place for 60 minutes, until nearly doubled in bulk.
Mix one cup sugar and cinnamon. (I probably used even more than 4 tablespoons cinnamon, but it’s up to you.)
Punch down and let rise again until double. Divide dough in half. Roll out ½ of dough into a rectangle. Brush generously with melted butter. Sprinkle generously with half of cinnamon sugar mixture. Starting at 1 long side, tightly roll up each rectangle into log. Cut each log into 12 rounds. Place 12 rounds, cut side down, in each prepared pan, spacing evenly.
Repeat with second half of dough. Let rolls in pan rise again, about 30-45 minutes.
[Note: at this point, rolls can be covered with plastic wrap and refrigerated overnight. Bring to room temperature for one hour before baking.]
Bake at 350 degrees until golden, about 20 minutes.
Cool for 20-30 minutes. Meanwhile, to make buttercream icing, cream butter with an electric mixer [I use an immersion blender] and slowly blend in sugar and vanilla. When cinnamon rolls have cooled, frost with buttercream icing and serve slightly warm.
Breaking news! I’m free! The trial is finally over after three weeks, and I’ve never been so excited to return to work. Yesterday during closing arguments one of the lawyers was wearing a knock-off of this iconic Manolo Blahnik Mary Jane, a shoe that I inexplicably don’t own. I had long been eyeing it in beige patent leather, and seeing the very shoe in that very color on Larry Flynt’s dining companion at Nate’n Al last year only cemented my love for it (to say nothing of her teal crocodile bag). But given that I have two different pairs of Manolo slings both in a slightly darker camel, even I couldn’t justify the purchase. Besides which the shoe is everywhere. And it’s $645. In the meantime, I’m liking some of the other Mary Janes on offer this spring.
Friday Follies [n., pl.] postings on Fridays about fashion and food in film from guest bloggers with impeccable taste.
It’s 1979, and I am in private school in New York City. So is Tracy, the character Mariel Hemingway plays in the movie Manhattan. Hemingway is a year older than me, taller, richer, and she’s starring in a Woody Allen movie. I, a want-to-be actress, am green with envy. She and Allen have dinner at Elaine’s! They ride through Central Park in a horse-drawn carriage! Tracy’s clothes are crisp and perfect; she’s going to study at the London Academy of Dramatic Arts; she lives in a doorman building on Gramercy Park, for god’s sake! I see the movie twice, to wallow in the iconography and privilege.
Fast forward to last month, when knocked up with a cold, I use Netflix on-demand. Oh, there’s Manhattan! I start the film… there they are in Elaine’s… and on the carriage ride… and in bed in Allen’s apartment, where he’s kvetching about the rent, when it strikes me (as it never did before) that the seventeen-year-old, doe-skinned Tracy is having sex with Woody Allen. No offence but… gross. I also notice that her clothes, which once seemed the epitome of WASP tailoring, in fact are: they’re dreadful. Standing in the lobby of her building in the film’s final scene, Hemingway wears a bulky blazer that would have fit her grandfather, and a sort of Brooks Brothers sack skirt. Who would commit this crime of fashion against a lanky young girl, but someone with a need to cut off her beauty at the knees when he realizes he cannot possess it? But of course, Allen worships Tracy much more than that, and gives her the last word. “Not everybody gets corrupted,” she tells him, his smile going rubbery with adoration. “You have to have a little faith in people.” Gershwin violins, up! Cue Manhattan skyline!
As every other person who’s seen the movie has always known, I was not wrong about Manhattan’s enchantment, I’d simply transferred it to Hemingway. And really, has there ever been a more glamorous shot than Allen and Diane Keaton sitting, as dawn breaks, beneath the 59th Street Bridge? —Nancy Rommelmann
Nancy Rommelmann has written for numerous publications including the LA Weekly, the Los Angeles Times, the New York Times Magazine, and Bon Appétit. She is also a contributor to LA Observed, and the author of three books, including New York Times Bestseller The Real Real World, which she co-wrote with Hillary Johnson.
THE FOODINISTA’S NOTE: Nancy’s husband, Din Johnson, is owner of Ristretto Roasters in Portland, Oregon. Their coffee ROCKS! Check out their newest Williams Street location the next time in you’re in Portland—amazing space.
What can I say? I love this herb salad, and I make some version of it a couple times a week. It’s especially good at providing a bright counterpoint when you’re serving something heavier like pasta or risotto, or alongside potatoes dauphinoise. The inspiration comes from Thomas Keller’s Bouchon in Yountville. Keller uses herbs that are more subtle in flavor, and the vinaigrette is light and refreshing (note: it uses canola oil instead of olive oil; red wine vinegar instead of balsamic). Or to quote Keller himself on Epicurious.com:
This salad is all about freshness. Use plenty of freshly picked fines herbes: parsley, chives, tarragon, and chervil; harder herbs, such as savory, rosemary, and marjoram, would be too strong. Finish it with a squeeze of lemon juice.
Bouchon Herb Salad
Adapted from Thomas Keller’s Bibb Lettuce Salad
Head of Butter (Bibb) Lettuce
Tarragon, chopped
Italian parsley, chopped
Chives, chopped
Chervil, chopped
Canola oil
Red wine vinegar
Dijon mustard
Salt and pepper, to taste
Lemon juice, fresh squeezed
Cut off core of butter lettuce, and then tear up leaves and place in bowl of cold water to refresh them and remove any dirt, then lift out and spin-dry in a salad spinner.
To make vinaigrette, mix three parts canola oil, one part red wine vinegar, and a dollop of dijon mustard in a blender for 15 seconds.
Place the leaves in a bowl. Sprinkle with a pinch of salt, a few grinds of pepper, chives, and 1 tablespoon each of chopped parsley, tarragon, and chervil. Then toss gently with 2 tablespoons of vinaigrette and 1 teaspoon of lemon juice.
I had hoped today would be the final installment in my quest for cheap lunches downtown during jury duty. But alas, it’s back to court tomorrow morning for more deliberating. Still though, when I set out for lunch today I did think it would be my last downtown for some time, so I went to one of my old faves in the Japanese Village Plaza for some Korean fare. Korean Kitchen Hibachi BBQ is tucked in the corner of the mall, and is a darkish galley-like space serving some of the better Korean BBQ and bibimbap outside of Koreatown. Bibimbap is one of my all-time fave dishes—a bowl of hot rice served with beef and veggies and topped with a raw or fried egg. I like to dump some kimchi in there and a ton of chile paste. It’s super cheap, and although I didn’t order the Korean bbq specials, they look to be as good as ever.
Back to the wardrobe malfunction. Someone—and not I—put my tights in the dryer, which basically frazzled the lycra and meant that by midmorning the tights were threatening to fall down at any moment. The horror. So I ducked into the American Apparel on 2nd in Little Tokyo and grabbed some reinforcements in midnight blue, which ended up looking great under a black jersey a-line dress. While I was at it, I picked up these stripey leggings in cream/black, which I thought would be fun with a long black cardigan and some tomato red Lanvin ballet flats for tomorrow. Or do stripes read too jailbird?
Finally it seems like the end of jury duty is in sight! I can’t comment on my time in the courtroom, but I can say the bright spot of the day has been revisiting some of my favorite spots downtown, particularly in Little Tokyo. The small pleasure I will miss the most is being able to stop into Mikawaya Mochi for a red bean (ogura) mochi ice cream, which is red bean-flavored ice cream wrapped in a pleasantly chewy rice paste. Mikawaya has been in business in Little Tokyo since 1910, and was the creator of the mochi ice cream! You may have seen their products in the frozen section at Trader Joe’s, but usually the flavor options are limited to green tea, strawberry, chocolate or mango. Really, the very, very best flavor is red bean. And I don’t think I’ve seen it outside the shop in the Japanese Village Plaza.
Tonight we are headed with our friends Booth and Adam to the final Lakers game in regular season! The above photo shows Mr. & Mrs. Foodinista’s favorite players from left to right respectively, and this evening the plan is to get jerseys. Hanging in my closet I have a beloved #17 jersey (circa 2002; a birthday present that year from Booth & Adam). It represents the most underrated defensive Laker of all time, and I consider that my greatest claim to fame is having handed Mr. Fox a disposable Bic razor with which he shaved his head prior to the 2002 playoffs in which he dominated (do we remember game 7 of the Western Finals against the Kings?). But following a phenomenal season from Gasol (another grossly underrated player) not to mention the Barcelona native’s love of cava, I’m finally ready to add another jersey to the mix. So bring on #16! Tonight’s seats are for the birds, but often I have more fun in the cheap seats, where the fans are able to focus on the game instead of the distraction of Anthony Kiedis prancing up and down trying to get noticed (this I have observed up close and personal on more than one occasion). SO LET’S GO, LAKERS! GO PURPLEAND GOLD!
The latest in my quest for lunch under $15 while on jury duty downtown…
Week Three on jury duty, and so far my favorite meal downtown has been at Blossom Vietnamese on Main between Fourth and Fifth. I’m always excited to have a bowl of pho, the Vietnamese specialty of rice noodles in beef broth with thinly sliced beef. Blossom’s is particularly fresh and flavorful, and the beef seemed to be better quality than one often encounters in pho situations. Along with the sliced beef and noodles in the broth were fresh cilantro, scallions, and thinly sliced yellow onions.
Each order of pho is accompanied by a plate of bean sprouts, jalapeños, fresh basil and a wedge of lime, all of which I added to the broth. I have to say, this is one of the better bowls of pho in recent memory. I also ordered a ginger limeade, which is super spicy with fresh ginger. I could drink those all day long.
Two women at a neighboring table had an order of spring rolls and said they were great. I’ll be back for sure. Oh, and the total was $11.47, $3.50 of which was for the drink. Not exactly a bargain where pho is concerned, but definitely worth it.
I couldn’t let Easter weekend pass without getting my hands on some lamb chops. So last night for dinner, I minced up a clove of garlic and mixed it with some olive oil and chopped rosemary and brushed on the chops. Then I broiled them for 5 minutes a side. Meanwhile, I boiled some purple potatoes and tossed with butter and chives. From start to finish, dinner was on the table in 20 minutes. So simple, so good.
This bottle of 2005 Mas Que Vinos Ercavio ($8) is the best value wine I’ve tasted in a while. They have it at K&L in Hollywood. The wine is from the Castilla y Leon region of Spain, and is made from the Tempranillo grape. Lots of blackberry fruit, earth and spice would make this a slam dunk with a Cheddar Burger with Balsamic Onions and Chipotle Ketchup.
Today had to be one of the most beautiful days of the year, starting with a perfect sunny morning at All Saints in Beverly Hills and progressing to the BEST BRUNCH EVER a few miles east at our friends Booth and Adam’s house. Every last detail was gorgeous, starting with these stunning raspberry Sferra hemstitched table linens. (I have to admit, I came home from brunch and ordered some monogrammed in azure.)
Booth and her sister, Kathleen, had gotten us all chocolate bunnies and Easter baskets from the original Sees Candies on La Cienega. Even Tiny G got a basket! Oh, and those placemats (below) are amazing—baroque silkscreen on thick brown paper—picked up on Booth’s last trip to Milan for the fashion shows.
Also, how pretty is this spring bouquet with pale pink tulips and roses and purple hyacinths and kale?
Now for the food. Kathleen made a totally indulgent strata (a savory bread pudding) with sausage, roasted red peppers and mushrooms. Oh yeah, and cheddar cheese. Holy smokes, it was good. Click here for recipe.
Booth made an herb salad, riffing on her favorite from Ladurée in Paris. This one was comprised of butter lettuce, dill, sage, basil, and a dressing of olive oil, fleur de sel and lemon juice. Amazing. And a great counterpoint to the richness of the eggs. Adam made satisfying and delicious Rosemary Garlic Buttered Potatoes. And we washed it all down with Piper Heidsieck Champagne.
For dessert we had my grandmother’s cinnamon buns, which are fodder for another post. It’s noteworthy to add that her recipe states: “to die FOR and FROM.”
After which we all dispatched to our respective locales for an Easter nap. Zzzzzzzzzzzz.
My sister gave Tiny G this little bird for Easter. I think it looks mighty pleased there on the dashboard of my car. Okay, we’re off to All Saints for a little Easter cheer (Tiny G is rocking some serious madras), followed by a super fabby brunch, for which I spent several hours last night making my grandmother’s recipe for sticky buns. There were, ahem, a few “technical complications” along the way. I hope they turned out. More later….!
One of the many reasons I love WordPress.com for hosting my blog is the “dashboard,” where you can review all the key stats like traffic, comments, and the often entertaining search terms people have used to find the site. (A lot of you are into Don Johnson, and who can blame you? More on his fashion contributions coming soon…) My all-time favorite search string is from Thursday, when someone searched for key words “Brad Peet Key Blanchett.” For the past 48 hours I’ve been mulling over where that person must live. Antwerp? Haiti? Québec? Please help me crack this curious case.
On another note, do you remember how incredible Cate’s metallic Ralph Lauren dress was that she wore to the Babel premiere back in ‘06? It was the inspiration for having my bridesmaids wear palest gold the following June.
This year I did not get my act together in time to order chocolate eggs or bunnies from Woodhouse Chocolates in St. Helena, so I walked over to Larchmont yesterday and got my husband an Easter “basket” filled with Belgian chocolate eggs from Leonidas. The eggs are wrapped in brightly colored foil, each connoting a different flavor. My favorite is the dark chocolate ganache (wrapped in orange), but the dark chocolate with hazelnut (blue), white chocolate with pistachio (green) and solid milk chocolate (brown) are also sinfully delicious. For an extra $5, you can choose from several adorable little felt bags to hold your chocolate eggs like this one:
The latest in my quest for lunch under $15 while I’m on jury duty downtown…
The other day I asked a couple friends for their favorite food stalls at Grand Central Market, a Los Angeles fixture since 1917. The first to respond was my friend Alec, who said “the one where Joey Pants meets DeNiro in Midnight Run.” (One of my all-time favorite movies.) I think DeNiro and Pantoliano meet at China Cafe inside Grand Central, does anyone know?
I wasn’t in the mood for Chinese, besides which, I was particularly taken with the suggestion from Pat Saperstein of EatingLA.com to check out Maria’s Fresh Seafood, specifically the shrimp tostada and fresh scallop taco. I ordered as directed, adding on a tamarindo (tamarind and Sprite – love), the grand total for which was $7! Given the generous portions and reasonable prices, I was pleasantly surprised at how fresh the fish was. And I love the crispy batter on the scallops in the soft taco.
Checking out my fellow diners, it seems like the thing to get, and next time I will, is the seafood cocktail served in a cup. After lunch I wandered around and made a note to come back the next time I need dried chiles. Look at this stand:
Also, I was glad to see that Tumbras a Tomas, my favorite place for tortas, is still doing a mean business—standing room only. If jury duty lasts long enough last week (and I pray that it doesn’t), I’ll be back to order a goat torta, or else lengua and cabeza tacos.
Friday Follies [n., pl.] postings on Fridays about fashion and food in film from guest bloggers with impeccable taste.
"Witness For The Prosecution" Marlene Dietrich, United Artists / MPTV
“Friday Follies” is usually reserved for guest bloggers, but after two weeks cooped up in a jury box, I thought I’d take the stand today! I’ve had courtroom dramas on the brain for obvious reasons, and can’t stop thinking about Marlene Dietrich as Christine Vole in Billy Wilder’s 1957 film Witness for the Prosecution(based on an Agatha Christie short story). More specifically I can’t stop thinking about her lipstick, which she applies with calculation while barrister Sir Wilfrid Robarts (played by Charles Laughton) looks on. It’s just one of many distractions Dietrich offers up in this classic legal thriller. She also manages to kill in a beret.
No wonder Laughton’s character remarks, “I am constantly surprised that women’s hats do not provoke more murders.” I only wish my own trial looked this good.
The latest in my quest for lunch under $15 while I’m on jury duty downtown…
Every Thursday, the Arts District/Little Tokyo Farmers Market sets up shop on the south lawn of City Hall from 10am to 2pm. There’s a dude, who is only marginally less annoying than Yusuf Islam, strumming the guitar and singing Moonshadow for diners eating lunch at picnic tables set up on the lawn.
In addition to all sorts of produce and tschotkes, there are a number of food stalls selling kabobs, tamales, tortas, salads, grilled corn on the cob, pan-Asian, you name it. I always like to see where the longest line is, and in this case it was for fresh roasted peanuts, which smelled absolutely incredible!
But I wanted something a little more substantial for lunch, so I jumped into the second longest line, in front of a stall called Yum Yum Grill. I watched as a woman grilled eggs, potatoes, chicken sausage and onions together and folded them into a crepe-like tortilla with crispy cheese melted on the outside. I turned to the guy behind me and said,”What’s good here?” Without missing a beat, he said the breakfast burrito, which also happens to be one of my greatest weaknesses. So I ordered one and then listened as he ordered chicken tandoori and whole wheat couscous instead. Huh. Anyway, the breakfast burrito ($8) was totally bueno but ENORMOUS. Halfway through I admitted defeat and called a friend at the Los Angeles Times across the street to see if he could take the other half off my hands. He was all too happy to do so.
Last December I tucked a bottle of Molton Brown Re-Charge Black Pepper Body Wash into my husband’s Christmas stocking just to mix things up with his favorite Hermès Eau d’Orange Vert, which is woodsy and citrusy. I’m not usually one for strong scents or cologne on a man, and neither is he. Which is perhaps why three and a half months later he had yet to break into this spicy, peppery body wash. Feeling sorry for the shunned bottle, I cracked the seal myself last week and it’s divine. The lather is lovely, and it is—as advertised—recharging. I love the way it smells, which is pleasantly subtle post-shower though admittedly very masculine. I wonder if continued use will improve my golf swing?
The latest in my quest for lunch under $15 while I’m on jury duty downtown...
First let me say that it is possible to order any number of satisfying lunchbox options for $8.50 at East Japanese Restaurant in Little Tokyo. Your choices of entrées include tonkatsu pork cutlet, broiled mackerel, tuna handroll, or tempura vegetables—each comes with a choice of a couple pieces of sushi or sashimi to start, as well as green salad, miso and steamed rice. Or, you can order a sushi combo of four pieces of sushi and a 6-piece cut roll, with miso soup, for $8.50. A bargain considering Whole Food’s version of this (called the Medium Tsunami Combo) fetches $9.95 and on occasion features cut rolls that are frozen in the middle.
Second, a confession. I blew my $15 budget by almost double. Instead of ordering one of the enticing and affordable lunch specials, I ordered directly from the sushi bar in part to erase the memory of Monday’s subpar sushi experience, but mostly because the specials board boasted Santa Barbara sea urchin. Uni, or sea urchin, is one of my very favorite things to eat and I love living so close to the source of some of the best uni around! Sweet, creamy and slightly nutty, uni is rarely a bargain on a sushi menu. In this case it was $7.50 for two pieces. It was incredibly fresh, and worth every cent.
Add to that the Chu-toro from Japan, a couple pieces of hamachi, and salmon for the omega 3 fatty acids, and an unusual ume shisho cut roll (below) made from pickled Asian plum paste and shiso leaves with fresh mint, at once both tart and slightly sweet. The flavor was a little too intensely sour for my taste, but definitely one of the more interesting flavor combos I’ve tried recently. I highly recommend the sushi at East, and I’m told that the udon is really good and that at night they have an extensive appetizer list that features sublimely grilled squid.
Finally I cracked unabashedly and irrevocably on the giving-up-desserts-for-lent front, and just days shy of Easter. Earlier this week our beloved housekeeper, Beatriz, brought over a homemade flan, a popular Latin American dessert of rich custard with a layer of caramel on top (borrowed from the French crème caramel). Her particular recipe is a secret carried with her from Guatemala, and I will do my very, very best to convince (read: beg) her to part with it. The texture is heaven, firmer than some of the wobbly versions I’ve had in Mexican restaurants, and the caramel has the perfect hint of burnt goodness. Does anyone else have a favorite flan recipe?
The latest in my quest for lunch under $15 while I’m on jury duty downtown…
Back in the day when I worked downtown (circa ‘99 to ‘04), Frying Fish Restaurant in the Japanese Village Plaza in Little Tokyo was a favorite for cheap, conveyer-belt sushi. The good news is that your sushi is still delivered via conveyer belt, an amusing novelty, and it’s still cheap. As well it should be, because—how do we put this nicely? I guess we don’t. The fish is remarkably flavorless. Definitely frozen. The hip Japanese clientele who once crowded the bar seem to have moved onto fresher waters. Yesterday there was an assortment of cops, college kids and a few tourists who’d wandered in. The service is friendly and the sushi won’t kill you. But check back tomorrow for better sushi options in the vicinity.
On Sunday mornings we head to the Larchmont Farmers Market with Tiny G and pick up eggs and produce for the week. Some of the veggies I steam and purée in the Beaba Babycook for Tiny G. I like to add a little pinch of spice just to introduce him to new flavors, like ground coriander with yellow beets, or cinnamon with mangoes, or this week, ground cumin with purple cauliflower.
Interestingly, given Tiny G’s paternal Irish heritage, potatoes are the only food he outright rejects, which is bizarre, but I’m not complaining. Besides, I have to believe that brightly colored veggies are healthier than their albino counterparts, and I’ve read that purple cauliflower is particularly heart smart. Plus, it has to be the prettiest baby food ever! It reminds me of African violets.
Tiny G is a big fan, too. Now if only we could get him to eat with his mouth closed…
Here’s a great bottle of white from Vieille Ferme—the cheap and cheerful bottle with the rooster on it. The 2007 Vielle Ferme Côtes du Luberon Blanc ($8) is a blend of Grenache Blanc, Bourboulenc, Roussanne, and Ugni Blanc. It’s from the Rhône region of France, and has lovely floral, lemon and spicy notes. We had this last night with vichyssoise and rotisserie chicken. It’s also great with roasted trout or grilled veggies. You can find it at BevMo, or any number of wine retailers.
My husband maintains that he doesn’t like soup. But then he loves tortilla soup, and another we make in summer with roasted peppers and sumac. Plus, I distinctly remember him ordering a bowl of vichyssoise at the Gulf Stream Bath & Tennis last autumn when we were visiting his parents, and proclaiming it one of his favorite foodstuffs. Of course given the ingredients, leeks and potatoes, it makes total sense since my husband comes from Irish stock.
Then last weekend my dad called to say he was making a vichyssoise out of The Complete Joël Robuchon, a cookbook I’ve aggressively avoided because having enjoyed some truly spectacular meals at The Mansion in Vegas and L’Atelier in Paris, I was sure there was nothing inside that a mere mortal could possibly tackle. But then my dad shared the recipe, and it was so easy! I assembled the soup early in the afternoon so it could chill several hours, then we enjoyed with half a rotisserie chicken from the Grill Masters truck at Larchmont Farmer’s Market (we’d met John, the chicken master, the previous evening while he was catering a friend’s birthday party—awesome!), and a glass of Cotes-du-Rhone white wine. So simple, so satisfying.
On the advice of my father, who thought the soup was slightly too thin, I tweaked the recipe, using 1 lb of fingerlings instead of 3/4 lbs of “firm fleshed potatoes” as the recipe calls for. Fingerlings are kind of buttery, so they were great in the soup. Yukon Golds would be good, too. Also, there wasn’t any chervil at the farmer’s market, which you should absolutely use if you can find. And finally, I didn’t have any traditional parsley so used flat-leaf Italian.
Crème Vichyssoise Glacée
Adapted from The Complete Joël Robuchon
Serves 6
2 large leeks
1 lb. fingerling potatoes, peeled, halved
2 tablespoons butter
1 sprig fresh thyme
3 branches fresh parsley
6 cups water
Coarse salt
1 cup heavy cream
Pepper
Minced chives and chervil for garnish
Slice the white parts of leeks (note: I used part of the light green stalk as well) in half. Wash them and slice into 1/2-inch half moons.
Take parsley and thyme and tie with a green leek leaf to make a bouquet garni.
Melt butter in cast iron pot and add leeks. Cook over low heat, stirring and not allowing leeks or butter to color, about 3 minutes.
Add water and bring to a boil. When the water bubbles, add 1 tablespoon coarse salt, bouquet garni, and the potatoes. Simmer for 25-35 minutes, until potatoes are tender.
Remove the bouquet garni. Blend soup well in batches. Add the cream and blend again. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Allow the soup to cool and then refrigerate for at least 3 hours. Sprinkle with chives and chervil and serve.
This afternoon was a warm one—85 degrees, sunny and birds chirping. After two trips over to farmer’s market, making Tiny G’s food for the week, and starting a vichyssoise for tonight’s dinner, gotta admit, I was spent. But it was too nice to stay indoors so we sat out on our shaded patio with Tiny G, and enjoyed a refreshing glass of pastis, an anise-flavored liqueur from France. It’s usually served diluted, and when you add the water to the dark, clear yellow liquid it turns a milky pale yellow color. I like to take a small Moroccan tea glass, plop in a couple ice cubes, add a splash of pastis, and fill with cold water. (Generally the ratio is about one part pastis to five parts water. Purists don’t add ice, but instead use very cold water.) Sit back, sip and relax.
Last weekend I picked up a dozen farm fresh eggs at the Larchmont Farmer’s Market. They’re from Gama Farms in Arvin, California (population 12,956), which is in Kern County about 100 miles from L.A. It’s amazing what a difference an egg makes. These are particularly flavorful, with bright yolks, and are huge. I love the speckled shells. We’ve been enjoying them all week, folded in an omelet with grilled spring onions (also from farmer’s market), hard-boiled for a snack with a sprinkle of sea salt, and this morning scrambled with leftover grilled salmon, grilled spring onions (we eat a lot of those around here), rosemary from the garden and cream cheese. Even Tiny G got in on the act and had a mashed up bright yellow, hard-boiled yolk, his favorite food to date. As we speak, Mr. Foodinista is at the farmer’s market grabbing a dozen more.
Last Saturday night we had friends over to grill Berkshire pork chops and drink cheladas. Our friend Adam, who has a superb fashion piece on that disturbing neighbor kid from Mad Men in tomorrow’s Los Angeles Times (preview: the kid wears a monocle in real life; he’s 8), brought over some Mexican slaw. But not just any slaw. This was super delicious, super spicy, roasted tomatillo slaw from the Jimtown Store Cookbook. You roast garlic, tomatillos and chiles for smoky spicy heat, while jicama and cabbage give a refreshing crunch. It takes slaw to a new level.
And it was great the next day in pork tacos with sliced up pork from a leftover chop. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, The Jimtown Cookbook is one you should have in your arsenal. Here’s the slaw recipe to give you a taste of just how inspired these recipes are, while being very rustic and unpretentious—just plain GOOD.
Roasted Tomatillo Slaw
From The Jimtown Store Cookbook
4 ounces (about 4) tomatillos, husked
4 whole garlic cloves, unpeeled
1 serrano chile, split, most of the seeds removed
6 scallions, green tops only, thinly sliced (about 1/2 cup)
1/2 cup coarsley chopped cilantro leaves and tender stems
1/4 cup corn oil
2 teaspoons kosher salt
1 teaspoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/4 cup white wine vinegar
3 cups finely hand-shredded green cabbage (about 1/4 medium cabbage)
2 cups julienned jicama
2 cups julienned carrots
Lime wedges for serving
Line a heavy medium skillet with foil and set over moderate heat. Add the tomatillos, garlic, and serrano chile and roast, shaking the pan and turning the vegetables occasionally, until all are brown and soft, about 5 minutes for the serrano and up to 20 minutes for the tomatillos and garlic. Remove the chile when it is done, and set aside. Remove the garlic from the pan. When the garlic is cool enough to handle, peel it.
In a food processor, combine the tomatillos, garlic, serrano, cilantro, scallions, salt, sugar, pepper, and vinegar. Process until smooth. With the motor running, gradually add the oil through the feed tube.
In a medium bowl, toss the cabbage, jicama, and carrots with the dressing. Serve immediately, if you like your slaw crunchy, or let your slaw sit for up to 1 hour to soften a bit. Adjust the seasoning just before serving. Squeeze a little lime for extra zing.
I’m going to stop analyzing Michelle’s fashion while she’s in France, because let’s be honest. It’s not a fair fight. So instead, let’s take a look at how amazing Carla Bruni looks in all shades of purple, starting with a stroll in Strasbourg earlier this morning:
Photo by Nigel Treblin/AFP/Getty Images
Here she is in Dior Cruise, but let’s take a moment to pause and zero in on those shoes/bag.
Bastille Day 2008 in Dior Cruise
tortoise flats + structured bag
August 22, 2008, with the Dalai Lama
Wearing Hermès at the Elysee Palace
With Sarah Brown at 10 Downing Street
August 2008 in Cap Negre on the French Riviera
Photo Getty Images
March 9, 2009, at the National Palace, Mexico City
Maybe I’m still disappointed with Michelle Obama for that total snooze of an outfit she wore to meet the Queen (who was so prettily turned out in pink), and her meeting with First Lady of Fashion Carla Bruni-Sarkozy this morning didn’t do much to change my mind. (Though I LOVED her Junya Watanabe cardy the other day.) I feel like Obama’s Thakoon read kind of “mall” and wasn’t quite in the same league as Bruni’s effortlessly chic Dior. Why is it that the French always get it right? I mean – the flats, the lapis bag, the belted coat! Speaking of coats – check out the dueling bows. The Huffington Post has some great “Fashion Face-Off!” pics, here are a few, but their poll has Obama’s frumpy bow winning the popularity vote. Qu’est-ce que c’est?
This just in via CNN Political Ticker: Apparently Oscar de la Renta had some harsh words for Michelle’s sartorial slacking at Buckingham Palace. I think Michelle gets it right most of the time, but I totally agree with de la Renta, and admit that I, too, am a little bit J. Crew-ed out.
The latest in my quest for lunch under $15 while I’m on jury duty downtown…
Until this afternoon, I would have told you without missing a beat that the best ramen I’ve ever had is at Momofuku in New York (made with Berkshire pork shoulder and belly, and a poached egg). I’m pretty sure Momofuku’s still rules the roost—it’s been a while since I’ve had it—but today I discovered a bowl of ramen in Little Tokyo that would give David Chang a serious run for his money. My friend Bryan (aka DJ Buttafuoco for all you downtown hipsters), who lives a few blocks from Daikokuya, gave me my marching orders, saying, “The Daikoku Ramen is what you’re there for. They make it ‘kotteri style’ if you ask, which is richer, thicker broth extracted from pork back fat. It might kill you, but it’s worth it.”
Boy, he’s not kidding. The tonkotsu broth is made by boiling pork bones for a day, and then mixing with soy sauce—and, if you ask, the kotteri back fat. Ask. Then it’s loaded with tender kurobata pork belly, scallions, bamboo shoots, bean sprouts and toasted sesame seeds. The soft-boiled egg is marinated overnight in soy sauce, and lordy, is it good. The bill, with a diet Coke, was a little over ten bucks before tip. I texted DJ Buttafuoco on my way back from lunch that I’d tried the ramen, to which he replied, “Now the real challenge begins: avoiding the noodle/pork fat coma for the rest of the afternoon.” I’m not sure I won that battle, but was sure glad for the brisk walk back from the restaurant to the courthouse, taking in the sights along the way. It was crazy windy—bad day to be wearing a skirt—but just gorgeous, gorgeous outside.
Friday Follies [n., pl.] postings on Fridays about fashion and food in film from guest bloggers with impeccable taste.
Woman on Top might be a movie about a woman scorned, but to me this movie is all about red dresses. Awash in blandness, Isabella (Penélope Cruz) leaves her cheating husband, dressed in an array of pasty white flour sacks. As Isabella simmers up some red chile peppers, her mojo returns and her wardrobe gravitates towards a vibrant hue of red.
She sashays through the streets wearing red dress #1 (a spaghetti-strapped swingy sundress) enticing what must be the entire straight male population of San Francisco to follow behind her in a Dr. Pepper-meets-Verizon Wireless parade through the city streets.
She saunters out on the set of her new cooking show, “Passion Food Live,” in red dress #2 (a skin-tight, cap-sleeve number).
She goes on a date with the show’s producer in red dress #3 (a floor-length mandarin) and continues her self-resurrection with red skirts, sashes and lipstick accenting her every scene.
Isabella—with her scarlet lips and tight, red top—looms over the city as a giant billboard for her TV show. When her husband arrives in town to win her back he declares, “How can you dress like this? It’s not proper, in your condition, married to me!”
Isabella is red: Valentino Red, to be more precise. And ultimately she becomes the color.
Do I want to wear the exact wardrobe from this film? The actual garments chosen for Isabella’s wardrobe are themselves forgettable and at some points laughable, but it’s the abundant use of red that makes this movie memorable. Watching it, I am overwhelmed with a need to wear red immediately. Hell, I can trace the most regretted non-purchase of my shopping history to Woman On Top’s homage to Valentino Red, and not to the fact that the atelier had only two of the simple modern chiffon dresses remaining on the rack. One that was red, in my size, and one in white…one size too small, both Valentino. Interestingly, Valentino was initially known for his white wedding dresses, but it is for his signature color of crimson that we will always remember him.
Looking back, my husband wasn’t familiar with Ms. Cruz’ Isabella; he perhaps was not aware that red is the color of love, prosperity, passion and good fortune. Or that red wards off evil spirits and brings good luck to brides across the far east, and well…he just didn’t realize that this dress I was eyeing for my wedding day was VALENTINO RED….and damn it, it fit! Much to my own consternation, I acquiesced to my fiancé’s request to stick with a more traditional tone for my wedding dress purchase, and I went with the smaller-sized, white chiffon dress instead. I added a gym membership to the receipt in my Valentino Red shopping bag. But we did serve a mean red chile sauce at the wedding…and by the way, the film’s Bossa Nova soundtrack is awesome too, but that’s a story for another day.—Jill Burnham
[The Foodinista's Note: As a bridesmaid in said wedding, I can attest that no bride has ever looked lovelier in Valentino...white!]
Yours truly is not a baker. I have neither the patience nor precision for it, despite my otherwise Type-A leanings. So when my friend Roy emailed me the following, I hadn’t a clue how to answer:
what’s the best way to go for baking sheets — e.g., stainless steel vs. aluminum, silicon pads, nonstick vs. regular, etc?
I did, however, know whom to ask. My friend Sarah used to work in the kitchen at Chez Panisse, and is an expert baker. Her advice (which I recall her sharing when I was putting together my wedding registry a couple years ago) is to avoid nonstick cookie sheets. She says:
I adore the baker’s half-sheets at restaurant supply stores, or I believe from Williams-Sonoma 13 x 18 x 1 (aluminum). They are a terrific all-purpose baking sheet as they won’t bend or buckle due to their heavy weight. They can be used for roasting chicken or baking cookies. Silicon pads are great to have in addition for certain types of cookies as they won’t stick. I prefer using a Silpat to a nonstick sheet only because I tend to scratch the pan when cleaning….
My friend Max, who is a DA in the Bay Area, gave me a great idea. Since he couldn’t give me any advice about dealings inside the courtroom, he had some for outside the jury box, namely lunch. So for the duration of my jury service, I’ll be looking for cheap eats that cost less than $15 (which is what they “pay” you for jury service; I’ll actually be donating my fees). Thanks, Max, great idea!
Today I met one of my bestest friends in the whole wide world for lunch since she works a stone’s throw from the courthouse. We hopped on the DASH bus at Second/Spring (it only costs 25¢!) and cruised down to New Moon on Spring/9th. Back when I used to work in fashion, she and I used to grab a chicken salad here, and then head across the street to browse at the now-defunct fashion bookstore in the New Mart, or visit one of the showrooms in that building. Once we got trapped in an elevator at the New Mart, and I started hyperventilating. She whipped out a large volume on Dior: The Early Years that she’d just purchased, and started reading aloud. It was instantly calming, not to mention fascinating. The next 45 minutes flew by.
But back to New Moon. It’s seen better days (but haven’t we all?). But the service is super friendly, the Original New Moon Chinese Chicken Salad is still good (and huge, huge portions so get a small unless you’re sharing) and I love the wontons they still bring out at the beginning with the sweet dipping sauce. We got an order of potstickers, a large original chicken salad and two Arnold Palmers, for which the total bill before tip was $22. Throw in a well-heeled clientele to boot.
This morning marks the start of my official jury duty. I’ll be on a case that is likely to last for several weeks. I can’t help think this all had something to do with my outfit during jury selection, which I described to my friend Billy. (It involved a metallic ballet flat and some Spanish jewelry.) “You should’ve played the ultra-religious card and worn lots of Southern Baptist Talbots if you didn’t want to be picked for the jury,” he chastised me. “In conservative Orange County they would have loved it, but not LA.”
For today’s appearance, he said, if you want to be remembered as chic Juror #12, channel lots of vintage Winona courtwear. “Remember all the demure little Marc Jacobs numbers Winona wore when fighting her shoplifting charges?” he asked. Of course I’m on the jury, not on trial, but I get where he’s going with it, and in fact I do have several of his trompe l’oeil jackets and blouses circa 2001-2002, and I also have a great Marc by Marc black acrylic headband I picked up in NY a year or so ago to borrow from my favorite of Winona’s fashionable turns in court (above). And heels! And bags! Here are some other of her genius ensembles, and I credit Paris for taking a page out of Noni’s legal pad with the headband (though I’m thinking that silly Chanel bag didn’t do her any favors):
Arriving at the Beverly Hills Municipal Court for her preliminary hearing on shoplifting charges June 3, 2002.
Entering the Beverly Hills Municipal courthouse after a lunch break on the third day of her shoplifting trial, October 30, 2002.
Arriving at Los Angeles Superior Court, May 4, 2007.
Yesterday I had jury duty, and was exhausted by the time it was all over (guess who got on a jury?). So we decided to try takeout from Larchmont Larder, where we’d been when it first opened and enjoyed, but hadn’t been back in a couple months. We wanted something easy and extra comforting so we went with the meatloaf. It’s a classic blend of pork, beef and veal, and comes with a naughty mushroom cream gravy, which, let’s be honest, was kind of just what the doctor ordered. It’s not cheap—for four slices of meatloaf, and sides of sauteed spinach and mushrooms with shallots and herbs—it came to $35. But when you consider that I spent $17 on an egg salad sandwich and an Arnold Palmer last week at Café Midi, it’s a little easier to swallow. Plus, the meatloaf was satisfying and good, and we have leftovers.
Update 4/3/09: I feel it’s important to call out my friend Selena’s comment in the section below. She and her office ordered takeout from Larchmont Larder today, and it was very disappointing. It seems there are consistency issues, e.g. our meatloaf was tender and tasty on Monday night, yet a sandwich order with meatloaf today was like a “brick of clay.” Please post if you have any recent experiences—good and bad, please.
Tiny G loves mealtime, and until recently he was a pretty clean little eater. But then he discovered how to blow raspberries, which he likes to do when he has a mouthful of mushy peas. I’ve learned to keep my distance when he strikes up the band, and keep him covered with a wipeable bib. My favorite is this handmade, vinyl-covered (for easy wiping) skull-and-crossbones number from Sheriff Peanut, available through Mahar Drygoods. By the way, if you haven’t visited Mahar Drygoods, it’s an “online outpost of vintage and artisan-crafted curiosities for children.” I love it, and it’s a great place for gifts that are both functional and well designed. And the owner is so nice. He will gift wrap items in recycled kraft tissue and kraft paper and tie with red-and-white kitchen twine. I might need to “gift” Tiny G with one of these light switch plates, made from vintage wallpaper:
My dad called last week to remind me that yesterday was Race Day. No, we’re not talking about The Tour de France, Kentucky Derby or Indy 500, but the annual Oxford-Cambridge Boat Race (my dad’s college was St. Catherine’s, so the Oxford victory yesterday was the outcome hoped for). What better excuse to make a mint-filled pitcher of Pimm’s Cup, the traditional English cocktail of Pimm’s No. 1 liquor, bitter lemon soda, strawberries, fresh mint, cucumbers and orange slices! (I also like to add blueberries and a splash of gin.) When we lived in England as kids, they’d serve these marvelous cocktails at weddings and boat races. Kids got the unleaded versions with no Pimm’s, but truth be told we were missing the the best part, and that’s letting the fruit soak up the booze and eating once the cocktail is finished.
Tiny G and I went to the Larchmont Farmer’s Market yesterday, and got a bunch of beautiful berries and mint. And my husband picked up some Fever Tree bitter lemon at Whole Foods. Then I mixed up a pitcher, and took it across the street and knocked back a glass or too with my neighbor Alyssa. It’s a cocktail that is greatly enhanced by sharing.
PIMM’S CUP
Makes one pitcher, or four cocktails
1 cup Pimm’s No. 1
4 6.8 ounce bottles Fever Tree Bitter Lemon
Splash of London Dry gin
Cucumber, peeled and thinly sliced
Strawberries and blueberries
Orange slices
Fresh mint
Fill a pitcher with ice. Add Pimm’s, bitter lemon, cucumber, fruit and mint. Stir gently and serve.
I attribute the fact that I’m feeling so fresh and scurvy free today to the refreshing Cheladas we enjoyed with friends last night. Cheladas are basically fresh lime juice and light Mexican beer served in an ice-filled glass with a salted rim. (Micheladas, on the other hand, are more savory and include Worcestershire sauce, Maggi seasoning and hot sauce.) Chiladas are very low in alcohol since you’re diluting already light beer with lime juice and ice, and they are super refreshing. There’s nothing quite like having a fridge full of beer and a boatload of limes to get the evening off on the right foot.
Tiny G’s BARNSLIG DJUR Ikea bib ($3.99/set of 2), below, made a great shield from the lime juice splatter on the marble countertop. I really hate juicing citrus, so I love the KitchenAid Citrus Juicer attachment, which makes this a snap.
Hold onto one of the juiced limes, and use it to wet rim of glasses. Then dip glass onto a plate of salt to coat rim. I had a special glass for my friend Adam, who has amassed a truly impressive tiki collection in his garage, complete with a grass skirted tiki bar and a Margarator. ¡Salud!
A couple weeks ago I was at a party and my friend Shana was wearing this killer Missoni skirt. I totally freaked out over it, and turns out she snapped it up for a song (like under $100!!!!) from Gilt Groupe. Gilt Groupe offers sales of up to 70 percent on luxury brands. I hadn’t been on the site for awhile, because even 40% off an Oscar de La Renta dress can still rival the better part of a mortgage payment, but then saw that a Helmut Lang sale was on the horizon. Helmut Lang used to be one of my faves, back when the man himself was at the helm. I haven’t purchased a single item from the label since he left in 2005. Then again, I haven’t purchased a single item from any label in a quite some time, because let’s face it, who can spend the money right now?
But then I saw this crinkled taffeta blazer in oyster gray with single flap pockets (functional) and a vent at the back hem on sale at Gilt Groupe. The best part? The price tag: $158, down from $550! Of course it all adds up, which is why I’m talking myself out of a bone-colored Costume National square toe flat with suede trim for $198. Sometimes parting is such sweet sorrow.
Bon Appétit’s February issue was all about eating green (in the global sense), and one of my favorite recipes from that delicious issue is the Tuscan Kale Chips (eating green in the literal sense!) from Blue Hill Farm’s Dan Barber. I’ve been on a bit of a kale jag lately, and love the nutty nuances in this super healthy green. Also, I don’t like potato chips, never have, so this is a perfect sub for crunchy goodness to snack on either all by themselves, or alongside a tuna fish sandwich.
First, you’ll want to use Tuscan kale, which you’ll find under a myriad of names including cavolo nero, dinosaur kale, Lacinato kale, black kale, but is basically the one with long bumpy leaves. Rinse the leaves, dry and cut in half to remove the center stalk. Then toss them in a bowl with a tablespoon of good olive oil and a little salt and pepper.
Then arrange leaves in a single layer on two baking sheets, and bake at 250 for 30 minutes or so. They are so satisfying, nutty, crispy, slightly briny, and betcha can’t eat just one.
Last Sunday we had tuna sandwiches along with kale chips, inspired by a recipe from Chef Dan Barber that ran in Bon Appétit. My husband declared this the best tuna sandwich he’d ever tasted, and I hope so. Because I have a confession to make about the ingredients. Namely, the list doesn’t include Bumble Bee. Let’s start with the bread. I got a sliced loaf of whole grain from La Boulangerie at the Larchmont Farmer’s Market. (Their French boule is incredible, too.)
On to the tuna fish. And here’s where I’m likely to get in trouble. I used Ortiz Bonito del Norte (white tuna in olive oil), that I got either at Surfas or Whole Foods, I don’t remember, but I do remember that we’re looking at $13 worth of tuna for two sandwiches. The tuna is caught by line and rod, which is environmentally friendly! It’s from Spain, is aged in olive oil, and it’s dolphin safe! And it’s $13 for 8 oz??? Okay. Moving right along, I mixed this heavenly tuna with just a dollop of mayo—you don’t need much if any—and some homemade celery salt (simply celery seed, below, + sea salt). Crack a little fresh pepper in there, too.
Then I slathered one slice of the toasted bread with mayo (wish I’d had some Kewpie mayo left, which would have been amazing, but we’re out), and Mendocino Suds & Seeds Mustard on the other. I spooned the tuna onto one of the slices, topped with thick shavings of parm and some Bubbies Bread and Butter Chips. Et voila, pure nostalgia at its grown-up best. I’ll post later about the super yummy kale chips, because they knocked this combo out of the park.
After skating through the week without having to appear for jury duty, I got nailed on the last day. So this morning I made my way downtown super early to report for duty and realized, you know, jury duty downtown is kind of fun. Provided of course you don’t actually get on a jury. More on that later. But where else can you find jury parking underneath a building as good-looking as Disney Hall?
We broke for lunch at noon, so I called my friend Adam, who works down the street at the Los Angeles Times, and met him on the corner of Spring and Second to walk over to Cole’s at 6th and Main for lunch. For those of us in downtown L.A. today, wasn’t it gorgeous? I love those old buildings near the Times.
I hadn’t yet been to Cole’s since Neal Fraser (of BLD and Grace) had revamped the menu at this historic joint. And I’m not going to get into whether or not Cole’s or Philippe’s invented the French dip in 1908, even though we all know it was Philippe’s. At the advice of my friend Katie, I ordered a lamb dip with blue cheese and a side of cole slaw, along with a pint of draft root beer.
The hand-carved lamb and bleu cheese combo is incredible, and the slaw is mighty mighty good; Cole’s differentiates itself by hand-carving its meats and serving au jus on the side, while Philippe’s doesn’t hand carve and warms its meat in the au jus before serving (no complaints here!). But one fact is indisputable. Cole’s is a hell of a lot better than its previous incarnation, and I will be back soon to try the classic beef au jus. Like maybe on Monday, because guess who has to report back to the courthouse? Oh, and is it just me, or is Esa-Pekka Salonen on the side of Disney Hall a poor man’s version of Don Johnson, who was working the room at a neighboring table at Cecconi’s last night?
Friday Follies [n., pl.] postings on Fridays about fashion and food in film from guest bloggers with impeccable taste.
From the neon-edged downpours of Blade Runner to the absolutist cynophilia of Must Love Dogs, American cinema does not lack for brutally dystopian versions of Los Angeles. But few films conjure up a Southland-gone-wrong like the 1984 masterpiece Repo Man (release 25 years ago this month) in which food is used as a metaphor for social control, a Jungian allegory and a moderately messy weapon. What food could be so versatile? Only Generic Food. Because in this film, all food is so generic that the cans it comes in are simply labeled “Food.” Beer is labeled “Beer.” Nonalcoholic drink is “Drink.” The dominant visual motif of the film’s oft-robbed commercial spaces is a sea of bland white and blue packaging in which the viewer sees not a single brand name.
This chilling generic tableaux apparently arose more by accident than by design, as the film’s producers found themselves unable to generate product placement opportunities with dialogue like “Look at ‘em, ordinary fucking people. I hate ‘em.”
Indeed, the film’s central tension is between protagonist Otto (brilliantly underplayed by Emilio Estevez*) and the conformist society that surrounds him. Otto begins the film by severely beating a co-worker for continuous singing of the “7-Up” jingle. Shortly thereafter, he displays contempt for his new employers by pouring out a generic “Beer” on their floor.
*Yeah, that’s right. I said it.
When Otto finally becomes hungry enough to actually open one of the ubiquitous cans of generic “Food,” the very act of eating serves to measure the distance between him and his zombified parents. As Otto plates his “food” (and by “plates” I mean he plops the gelantinous mass onto his plate where it lies, still faintly embossed with can markings, like a cylindrically-ribbed turd) his mother offers the following advice in monotone: “Put it on a plate, son. You’ll enjoy it more.” To which Otto sarcastically responds, “Couldn’t enjoy it any more, Mom. Mm, mm, mmm.” Babette’s Feast, this is not.
The rest of the film is replete with gastronomical references. Four of the film’s characters (Bud, Miller, Lite & Oly) are named after brands of beer, and when challenged to devise a crime spree, a hardened gang leader says “Yeah. Let’s go get sushi and not pay.”
Miller, the film’s wisest character, even uses the phrase “plate o’ shrimp” as an example of the Jungian concept of synchronicity. However,Miller also posits thattime spent driving is inverse to intelligence and uses a slur to suggestscreen legend John Wayne was a voyeuristic homosexual, a theory that, while unproven, nevertheless inspired someone to scrawl the exact line from the movie in this sidewalk.
Ultimately, Otto is trapped in a nightmarish hellscape lacking in flavor, a world where literally generic food and/or beer has robbed all but a transgressive few of the pleasures of taste. Yes, there may be alien corpses in the trunk of a 1964 Chevy Malibu, the “gypsy-dildo-punk” Rodriguez Brothers are a constant annoyance, and Otto’s girlfriend develops a serious torture fetish, but in my opinion Otto’s true struggle remains against the conformist mindset best epitomized by a character who, while dreaming of employment at a fast-food restaurant, says in reverent awe, “There’s fuckin’ room to move as a fry cook. I could be manager in two years. King. God.” —Ted Mulkerin
Before my friend Hugh chimes in to ridicule my new obsession as being one step removed from Lawry’s seasoned salt, I’d just like to hold my head high and say it: I love homemade celery salt. And it’s easy to make. Just grind up sea salt and celery seed with a mortar and pestle (about 1.5 parts sea salt to 1 part celery seed). It adds a great sort of grassy, savory, and slightly bitter note (in a good way) to all sorts of scenarios. The classic use is in a Bloody Mary, which I totally support, but I also love celery salt in tuna salad, tossed with green beans and butter, or sprinkled on gorgeous spring onions, which is what we did last night, and then grilled them with two thick-cut heritage Berkshire pork chops. (And while we’re at it, can we just take a moment to admire Mr. Foodinista’s grill marks on that chop???)
Apologies for the pork-heavy week, but little did I know when I served an herb-roasted pork loin on Tuesday night that yesterday a heavy box bound from Decorah, Iowa, would land on my doorstep.
My heritage pork chops are here! I can’t tell you how excited I am to have a freezer full of big, beautiful Six-Spotted Berkshire pork chops! I had initially thought I’d be getting Red Wattle chops, but I am thrilled with these brightly colored, marbled beauties from Certified Humane® farmer David Holthaus, who has been raising pigs since 1974. Stay tuned for more adventures in pork!
My biggest regret about our lovely marble countertops is not the chip my husband innocently took out of one while putting a beer bottle in the recycle bin or the acid from the lime juice I spilled while making margaritas that ended up eating the surface and leaving white blotches, but the fact that you can’t put hot pans down on it like you can with granite. My quick fix is this awesome Japanese wood trivet that I got yesterday for $10 at OK on Third Street. It’s so tactile. I love it!
For those who aren’t familiar with OK, it is without doubt one of the most smartly edited stores in L.A., with everything from exquisitely etched sake glasses (one of my absolute favorite wedding gifts, from my friend Lizzie), Heath Ceramics, and groovy placemats to Anne Ricketts bronze sculptures, Max Bill clocks, recycled gold wedding bands and chic little Comme des Garçons wallets. The best news is that they recently launched an online store: okthestore.com. Happy surfing!
Last night we had a bunch of friends over for dinner, three of whom are professional comedians, and I don’t know what hurts worse—my sides from laughing for hours, or my head from all that intoxicating (in every sense of the word) Brunello. There were 7 of us total, so I needed a menu that I could shop for after work and have on the table several hours later. I’d been leafing through the April Gourmet, and was totally sucked in by the photo spread on their easter dinner story. So last night, I made their herb-roasted pork loin, along with the golden potatoes with caper brown butter crumbs, as well as the green beans with celery salt. I feel like each of these deserves its own post, but I was too wrapped up in eating the food to photograph it. So instead I’ll share some broad strokes about the pork loin, and simply say that this menu is crazy good.
Just from a visual standpoint alone, how gorgeous are herbs??? For this pork loin recipe, not only do they infuse the meat with a totally seductive flavor but they make for a spectacular presentation. After browning the loin on all sides, you lay a bed of savory, rosemary, sage and thyme on the rack in a roasting pan.
Then you place the pork loin atop the bed of herbs, and slather with a mixture of dijon mustard, minced garlic, olive oil and chopped shallots.
While the roast bakes at 350 for an hour, start the potatoes, green beans and vermouth sauce. The potato recipe is actually pretty involved so next time I’ll do the peeling, slicing and blanching the night before. You also have to make your own bread crumbs, which you mix in with a brown butter and chopped caper sauce. Making bread crumbs in the food processor couldn’t be easier. I just cut the crust off half a baguette, and then hit pulse a few times.
You toss the blanched potatoes with the rest of the caper brown butter and then put on a roasting pan, then sprinkle with these insane breadcrumbs. The potatoes go into the oven to roast while the pork comes out to rest. The nutty-briny flavor and crispy texture means we’ll be making these a LOT. Thank you Ted, Shana, John, Jessica and Alec for coming out to play on a weeknight!
A couple weeks ago my friend Hugh blogged about Mary’s Free-Range California Bronze Heritage Chickens on GastroKid. They are, as Hugh says, “the best danged whole chicken you can buy in a supermarket.” They’re available at Whole Foods, and the fantastic news is that they’ve lowered their prices yet again to $2.69/lb! (Not so long ago, they fetched double the price and were worth it then.)
For the past few years I’ve been roasting chickens à la Zuni Café, which involves salting the hell out of them and letting them sit under plastic wrap in the fridge for 24-48 hours before roasting at high heat. It’s a great go-to method, and produces deliciously crispy skin.
But last night I discovered an even better method. I have to attribute the ridiculous success of this chicken as much to the simplicity of technique from—who else?—Thomas Keller, as to the bird itself. Keller has famously said that his last meal would be a roast chicken, and his Bouchon cookbook features a somewhat involved version that requires a six-hour brine, but epicurious.com has Keller’s abbreviated method that requires nothing but a lot of salt, a little pepper and a bit of fresh thyme and twine.
Crank up the oven to 450 degrees. Rinse the bird and thoroughly pat dry inside and out. Salt and pepper the inside, and then truss the bird with kitchen twine. Then sprinkle a generous amount of salt over the bird and a few twists of pepper. No butter. No herbs. Just salt and pepper.
Roast the chicken without basting for 50-60 minutes, until the oven gets kinda smoky and the skin is golden brown and crispy. Remove from oven (careful of spattering hot fat) and add chopped fresh thyme to the pan, then baste with all those lovely fatty, thyme-scented juices. Let rest on a cutting board for 15 minutes, and then slather with a pat of good butter and serve with a healthy dollop of spicy dijon mustard. The flavor of this bird was mind-blowing—my husband swore, and then asked if we could roast a chicken every week (note: we do). But I know what he means. It was like tasting something new and intoxicating for the very first time. It was that good.
The other day I got an email from my friend Jill, who was on a quest to find good wine for $8/bottle or less to drink midweek. The truth of the matter is there is some really good stuff out there that won’t break the bank, so for the foreseeable future, I’m going to try to call out a bottle each Monday for $8 or less. While these won’t taste like $50 bottles, they might fool you into thinking there were at least $25, which is kind of like tripling your investment!
I discovered this Sicilian red at K&L Wine Merchants in Hollywood, and it has fast become a weeknight favorite. Made from the nero d’avola grape, it’s surprisingly elegant and smooth for the price, with sort of plummy peppery flavors. Great with pork or other grilled meats.
Last night we riffed on paella, using arborio instead of long-grain rice and cooking stove top in a saute pan instead of in a paellera over an open fire. I was really in the mood for something simple, and though it was super easy and cheap to throw together (the shrimp cost $7 and we had everything else already), it tasted incredibly luxe and indulgent. We enjoyed with an herb salad and a glass of fruity Tavel rosé.
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1/4 cup chopped shallots
1 cup arborio rice
4 garlic cloves, minced
1/2 cup dry white wine
15 uncooked large shrimp, peeled and deveined
3/4 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
Salt and pepper
In a medium saucepan over medium-high heat, bring 2 cups chicken broth and saffron threads to a simmer.
Heat olive oil in large sauté pan over medium heat. Add shallots; sauté until tender, about 2 minutes. Add the rice and garlic. Using a wooden spoon, stir for 1 minute, making sure all the grains are well coated. Add white wine and stir until absorbed, about 2 minutes. Add 1/2 cup saffron stock and simmer until absorbed, stirring frequently. Add remaining stock 1/2 cup at a time, allowing stock to be absorbed before adding more and stirring frequently until rice is cooked halfway, about 10 minutes. Add remaining cup of broth, shrimp and chopped tomatoes. Cover and simmer until rice is tender and shrimp are cooked through and liquid is absorbed, about 10 minutes. Season to taste.
All gloss is not created equal. There are several considerations to take into account, the obvious of course being hue. But beyond that are the crucial nuances of tackiness (as in how sticky it is), endurance, the wand and flavor. The best gloss ever to grace the planet is no more for reasons I can’t begin to comprehend—and that was Lorac’s high shine gloss in Frolic, a luscious raspberry pink. It was in a little pot the size of a nail polish, complete with a tiny wand. It was heaven.
The closest I’ve come to anything that sheer and glossy is Chanel’s new “Aqualumiere” sheer high-shine concentrate line that comes in 12 hues. I have Party Red, and am loving it. I also have a couple tubes of classic Chanel Glossimer in Glaze, which looks like you’ve just licked your lips—no discernible color and perfect for everyday use. I’ve tried some of the shimmery tinted Glossamers and they’re terrible and don’t stay on. But for some reason Glaze works a treat.
For a sheer with a hint of shimmer I’ve bought tube after tube of Dior Addict Ultra Gloss in A Pinch of Ginger, which looks pale yellow in the bottle but goes on sheer with a warm golden shimmer. Sometimes I dab a bit on over lipstick. When I need something a little darker, another favorite Dior Addict is A Feast of Plums—a burgundy gloss that adds sophisticated color that’s still sheer enough for daytime use. Sadly, I haven’t seen either color around in sometime, and the packaging has since changed. And finally, I’ve saved the best for last: YSL Golden Gloss in Golden Peony, a pale pink with a hint of golden shimmer. It’s really pretty and very subtle. It’s what I wore at our wedding. Doesn’t hurt that it smells—and tastes—delicious!
This recipe comes from the Jimtown Store in Healdsburg, which is about 45 minutes from where I grew up. We used to stop there on our way to Mendocino for tapenade and chocolate pudding and sea monkeys. When owner Carrie Brown and her late husband John Werner came out with the Jimtown Store Cookbook in 2002, I snapped it up for the pudding recipe alone. It’s one of my favorite cookbooks, and within I discovered my all-time favorite recipe for Macaroni and Cheese with Poblano Chiles. There’s a subtle, but not overpowering, heat from the roasted chiles, which cuts through the richness of all the béchamel and sharp cheese. The parm (both in the breadcrumbs and mixed in with the other cheeses) adds a nutty note. I like to use a large tubular shaped pasta, like oversized conchiglie or even rigatoni to trap all that cheese! But some prefer a penne shape for a toothier texture.
It’s a little labor intensive—roasting chiles, making a bechamel and breadcrumbs, and I highly recommend making the effort. But for last night’s dinner I cheated and got some fresh breadcrumbs from Whole Foods. Bonus in this recipe: a rustic and sublime trick with breadcrumbs, whether homemade or store bought! Toss a cup of breadcrumbs with a cup of grated parm and then sprinkle over the top. Would be great over a cauliflower or broccoli gratin as well. This macaroni and cheese has become a favorite with my family and extended family. I hope you enjoy as much as we do!
Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Butter a 9 x 13-inch baking dish.
Lay chiles on their sides on a gas burner and turn flame on high. Roast chiles, turning with tongs, until skins are evenly charred, about 10 minutes.
Steam until cool in a closed paper bag, about 15 minutes. Under cold running water, rub off burned peel. Then discard stems, core and devein chiles (scraping away all seeds), and cut into long, thin strips.
To make béchamel, melt 6 tablespoons butter over low heat. Whisk in flour and cook, whisking often, without allowing flour to brown, about 4 minutes. Remove pan from heat and whisk in hot milk. Add salt and nutmeg. Return sauce to medium heat and bring to simmer. Continue to cook, stirring with a wooden spoon, until sauce has thickened to texture of melted ice cream, about 10 minutes.
Meanwhile, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add pasta and cook according to instructions on package (about 8 minutes?), until just tender. Drain pasta and transfer to large bowl (do not rinse), and toss with butter.
Stir white and orange Cheddar cheeses and all but one cup of the grated parm into the hot béchamel. Add cayenne, paprika, mustard and Tabasco. Heat, stirring, until cheese just melt and sauce is smooth.
Pour the sauce over the pasta in the bowl. Add the chiles and stir. Spoon into the prepared dish. In a small bowl, combine reserved cup of grated parm and the bread crumbs.
Sprinkle breadcrumbs evenly over pasta in the dish. Bake until pasta is heated through, sauce is bubbling, and top is browned, about 20 minutes. Remove from oven and let stand on a rack for 5 minutes. Serve.
Several years ago I was given this ball whisk as a gift by a designy friend, who picked it up at MoMA. But unlike many kitchen utensils that rate high in looks, this one actually works. It has become my favorite whisk, particularly when it comes to cleanup as there are no crevices for food to get stuck in. Also, the design means that the ball rods can generate more whipping action using less effort. What’s not to like? They are now available with silicone handles and balls, as well as a flat-whisk option. I’m guessing these are less likely to leave scratches on those amazing Rösle stainless mixing bowls that you knew you had no business spending that much money on, but then your awesome friend Dreanne got them for you as a wedding present and they are the BEST. BOWLS. EVER. You know, those.
Is there a more perfect cocktail than an icy cold Negroni, straight up? One part gin, one part Campari, one part sweet vermouth, it was invented in 1919 by a bartender in Florence at the Caffè Casoni for Count Camillo Negroni, who requested that gin be added to the popular aperitif, the Americano. Truly pro-y bartenders will hold the orange twist over the cocktail, and light a match beneath the twist for just a second, which briefly—very briefly—ignites the orange peel and releases oils into the cocktail. Sublime. I need to work on my technique, because when it works, it’s pure cocktail magic.
Nobody is more shocked than I about how HUGE a HIT the lacinato kale was last night with my husband. (That’s the dark green kale with crinkled, bumpy leaves, also known as cavolo nero and dinosaur kale.) I’ve been seeing all kinds of leafy greens and pasta everywhere, and thought this carby combo was my best shot at sneaking kale to the table. Bon Appétit’s February issue has a ton of ideas for using kale, and gives tips for fast cooking: “Simply cook kale for a minute in a pot of boiling salted water. Drain, squeeze out excess water, and sauté with olive oil and garlic for two minutes.” Toss with pasta—we used bucatini, but Barilla Plus spaghetti would be the healthier, guilt-free option—and a squirt of lemon for a little acid. I had some leftover olives from book club the previous evening, so chopped up some of those and added to the mix for some healthier fat (the kind that fights cholesterol) than the typical sausage that usually accompanies kale and pasta on menus. Top with thick shavings of parm for a little protein.
Friday Follies [n., pl.] postings on Fridays about fashion and food in film from guest bloggers with impeccable taste.
Much has been made of the vivid, pop art-inspired color palette and collage-like cutting in Godard’s 1965 film, Pierrot Le Fou. But really, the film (like Alphaville and A Woman Is a Woman, and, well hell, really all of the Danish-born French actress Anna Karina’s films), is a movie about heavy bangs and kohl-lined eyes. Long after you’ve forgotten all about that Brechtian breaking of the fourth wall business, or that film critics consider the film a paradigm of postmodernism, you’ll remember how helplessly charmed Jean-Paul Belmondo looked as Karina batted those thick lashes at him from underneath her schoolgirl-sexy brown fringe. The first time I saw Pierrot Le Fou at the Nuart, I booked a haircut and lash extension appointment while driving home on the 10. (Should you also find yourself seized with an immediate and uncontrollable need for falsies after viewing, trust me: Beverly Hills aesthetician Daniel Dinh.)—Robyn Brown
Robyn Brown has written and edited for several women’s magazines including Glamour and Allure. Currently she works as a freelance writer in Los Angeles, and is nearing the completion of her first novel.
I’m anticipating this question from my husband when he gets home tonight to find that he will be eating braised lacinato kale (aka black kale, cavolo nero), and lots of it. More on that—and the state of our marriage—tomorrow. I’m sure he would have preferred a grilled New York steak with mushrooms simply sauteed in a little butter with garlic, like the above from a midweek dinner last week. It’s fast, easy, satisfying and a big hit with boys, who also sometimes need to eat their leafy green veggies…
So far the whole no-desserts-for-lent thing has been going pretty well. I’ve resisted confections at The Bazaar, skipped out on my all-time favorite butterscotch budino at Pizzeria Mozza, and even withstood my friend Adam’s homemade vanilla ice cream (though truth be told, there is some waiting for me in the freezer). But then I was hosting book club last night with the girls, and made a polenta cake topped with mascarpone whipped cream and berries soaked in grappa. My downfall was the Moorea vanilla bean brought back from French Polynesia by my friend Kathleen. Even as I mixed the intoxicating seeds into the batter, I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist, so it was fairly premeditated. I’m back on the wagon today, but seriously. Polenta + mascarpone + berries + grappa…no court would convict me.
Polenta Cake with Mascarpone Whipped Cream and Blackberry Grappa Compote
Adapted from Gourmet
For cake
3 sticks (1 1/2 cups) unsalted butter, softened
5 cups powdered sugar
1 vanilla bean
4 large whole eggs
2 large egg yolks
2 cups bread flour
1/2 cup cornmeal
1/2 cup coarse polenta
For compote
10-ounce bag frozen berries, such as blackberries or marionberries
2-3 tablespoons granulated sugar
1/4 cup grappa
For mascarpone cream
1/2 cup mascarpone cheese
1 cup heavy cream
To make cake, preheat oven to 325° F. and butter and flour a 12-inch spring-form cake pan.
In a bowl with an electric mixer beat together butter and powdered sugar until light and fluffy. Split vanilla bean lengthwise. Scrape seeds from pod and add to butter mixture. Beat in whole eggs and egg yolks 1 at a time, beating well after each addition, and fold in flour and cornmeal. Pour batter into pan and bake cake in middle of oven 1 hour and 25 minutes, or until golden. Release springform edge, and cool completely. Transfer cake to a large platter.
To make compote, place frozen berries in a bowl. Sprinkle with sugar, and douse in grappa. Allow to sit while cake bakes.
To make mascarpone cream, in a bowl with an electric mixer beat mascarpone and cream until mixture holds soft peaks.
Slice cake and top with mascarpone cream and a spoonful of berries. Serve.
A couple weeks ago, our friend Kathleen returned tanned and rested from Moorea in French Polynesia. Smuggled in her suitcase were two jars of vanilla beans—one for her brother-in-law, Adam, and another for yours truly. I love that the price tag on the lid says 2100F—it seems so extravagant! I think it’s like the equivalent of $23 US, which believe me, is extravagant enough. The beans are incredibly fragrant and I can’t wait to take a page out of Adam’s book and try making his superb Moorea Double Vanilla ice cream. He was kind enough to part with the recipe. Use the best vanilla beans you can find for this one. PS – check out the handiwork of Adam’s new label maker below…nice!
Moorea Double Vanilla Ice Cream
1 vanilla bean, preferably Tahitian
3 cups heavy cream
1 cup milk
¾ cup sugar
Dash of salt
4 egg yolks
1 tablespoon Tahitian vanilla extract
1. Using the pointed tip of a sharp knife, split the vanilla bean in half lengthwise and scrape the tiny black seeds into a heavy medium saucepan. Add the vanilla bean, cream, and milk and bring to a simmer over medium heat. Remove from the heat, cover and let stand at room temperature for 30 minutes to blend the flavors.
2. Add the sugar and salt. Return to medium heat and cook, stirring occasionally, until the sugar dissolves and the mixture is hot, about 5 minutes.
3. Beat the egg yolks lightly in a medium bowl. Gradually whisk in about 1 cup of the warm vanilla cream. Return the egg mixture to the saucepan, reduce the heat to medium-low, and cook, stirring, until the custard thickens enough to coat the back of a spoon, 170° to 175°F (75° to 80°C). Do not let boil, or the egg yolks will curdle.
4. Strain the custard into a bowl, pressing through as many of the vanilla seeds as you can. Refrigerate covered, until the custard is very cold, at least 6 hours or as long as 2 days.
5. Stir in the vanilla extract. Pour the custard into the canister of an ice cream maker and freeze according to the manufacturer’s directions. Transfer the ice cream to a covered container and freeze until it is firm enough to scoop, at least 3 hours or overnight.
The other day I got an email from Heritage Foods USA about a “Recession Special” on 14-ounce pork chops (15 for $75). At $5/chop I couldn’t resist. If you have more freezer space, the savings get even better – 30 chops for $130, ora quarter Red Wattle hog for $250 (35 lbs of steaks, shoulders, chops, bacon, ribs, osso buco shanks—you name it!). Their website describes the Red Wattle as having the “porkiest taste of all our breeds.” The Red Wattle is known for dark, lean meat that is particularly flavorful. Think of it as the Native American answer to Kurobata (the Japanese name for the British Berkshire breed).
What’s more, you’re helping small, sustainable family farms while helping to preserve Native American breeds, which increases diversity in the food supply that has been threatened by industrial farming. But I’ll get off the soap box, and just say that the quality of these chops is superior. Period. Next time my friend Katie and I are going to go in on the quarter hog special and divvy it up so we can try out all those amazing cuts. In the meantime, I’m so excited for my order to arrive next week!
A couple months ago, I posted about my dad’s recipe for smoky, spicy pasta e fagioli—bean and pasta soup, which is never quite as good as when he makes it. Last night we took another stab at it, this time following my dad’s advice about using Strianese cannellini beans (avail at Whole Foods) and a less starchy pasta, and the results were fantastic! Also, I think the Spanish Nuñez de Prado extra-virgin olive oil I’m currently obsessed with adds a deliciously sacrilegious note to the Tuscan affair—I drizzled some in at the end for a rich, citrusy, peppery finish. It makes for a hearty and satisfying soup, and leftovers are every bit as good. For my dad’s pasta e fagioli recipe, click HERE.
How many moves this Buena Vista pint glass has survived I cannot recall, but I used to live on Filbert/Larkin up the hill from this fine tourist establishment in San Francisco many moons ago. My partners in crime, Rick and Diane, and I used to hop the cable car on Hyde late night down to the wharf and drink Irish coffees, the Buena Vista’s claim to fame. The glass remains my favorite—if kitschy—vessel for enjoying a pint of Guinness. Tonight my “mick” husband and I will be toasting St. Patty’s Day with a Guinness, while we ponder the following question: Does the Guinness really taste better in Ireland? (The answer is: maybe.)
For thoughts on what to cook tonight, check out bonappetit.com. They have a ton of ideas from corned beef to be-shamrocked cupcakes to modern Irish comfort food. Happy St Patrick’s Day!
My husband and his two brothers spent most of their childhood summers at their maternal grandmother’s on the beach in Duxbury, Mass. On weekends, his dad would come up from New York and join the rest of the family. Lunches were always a sandwich free-for-all with endless choices of cold cuts and cheese, and it is his father who deserves credit for perfecting the ultimate weekend sandwich creation. And it all starts with a sandwich size English muffin.
Toast the English muffin—the “Sandwich Size” from Thomas’ is recommended—and then liberally spread with mayonnaise on both sides, and honey mustard on one. (We like to use Napa Valley Mustard Co. Hot Sweet Mustard.) Then thinly layer slices of roast beef, and don’t be shy. Top with a slice of provolone and four or five bread and butter pickle chips. Bubbies pickles are a favorite around here. Lettuce and tomato are optional, but as my husband says, “it’s really about letting the mustard, pickles and mayo do their dance.”
Without doubt, one of the best invitations I’ve received in recent memory was to yesterday’s Scotch tasting hosted by my friends Mary and Ed. Photographer Julius Shulman was the guest of honor, and it was his Scotch we were enjoying. In addition to his iconic photographs, which include some of my all-time favorite images of Southern California, Shulman is known as something of a Scotch aficionado. Here’s the man himself, along with friend Jonathan, who gave Julius his first bottle of Scotch a decade ago.
Ed and Mary’s place is incredible, high in the hills of Eagle Rock, complete with a poolside tiki bar. We gathered outside to enjoy some nibbles before launching into the single malt.
Mary had individual water bottles for all of us with our names Sharpee’d on the label.
John from Seven Grand downtown lead the tasting, and a mighty fine job he did, taking us through multiple Glens (-livet, -fiddich, -rothes), Oban, Laphroaig, Balvenie, Talisker, Macallan, to name a few. Love the Balvenie and Talisker, both of which we have at home, but am now totally into Oban—briny, honeyed and malty with a bit of smoky spice.
Councilman Tom LaBonge stopped by to toast Julius (with water, which we’ll forgive him thanks to a well-played witticism involving William Mulholland), while the rest of us toasted with something a little stronger. I wish I’d had a moment to talk to him about the street lights that are out at the end of our block, about which we’ve all called him and have been playing a mighty long game of phone tag with his field officer.
Unfortunately we had to get back to Tiny G before dessert was served, but the three cakes pretty much spelled it out: ALL. HAIL. JULIUS.
Thanks, Mary and Ed! Can’t think of a better way to spend a Sunday afternoon. And thank you Mr. Shulman for sharing tastes of all those amazing single malts!
Last night, my husband and I snuck out to Osteria Mozza for a late bite while my mother watched a sleeping Tiny G. Our server asked if we wanted to start with a cocktail, so my husband ordered his standard vodka tonic, while I ordered an Americano. (For Bond fans, and I am a rabid one, it is the first cocktail that Bond orders in Ian Fleming’s novel, Casino Royale.) Made of equal parts of Campari and Cinzano Rosso vermouth with a splash of club soda and a slice of orange, it’s a perfect apéritif—the pleasant bitterness stimulates the appetite without overpowering.
So imagine my surprise when the server instead delivered a mug of caffè americano. I’ve never had a cup of coffee be such a buzzkill in my entire life. I guess this is a sure sign that Starbucks is indeed taking over the world, one osteria at a time.
Americano Apéritif
1 ounce Campari
1 ounce sweet (or red) vermouth
Club soda
Orange slice or twist
Fill an old-fashioned glass with ice cubes. Pour in Campari and sweet vermouth. Top with club soda and an orange twist. Serve.
We had a lazy morning today, a requisite of which is, of course, bacon. My absolute favorite bacon is the sweet and sassy thick-cut bacon served at Grub in Hollywood. It’s caramelized in maple syrup with a spicy kick. At home, we have our own riff, which is mixing brown sugar and cayenne pepper (about 1 1/2 tablespoons golden brown sugar, 1/4 tsp cayenne, a couple grinds of black pepper per 12 ounces of bacon). First, you cook the bacon slices on a broiler pan at 350 degrees for about 15 minutes. (Or you can do on a cookie sheet on top of a pan.)
Remove from oven, turn the bacon slices over, and sprinkle with brown sugar/cayenne mixture. Cook for another 15 minutes or so, until crisp and sugar is caramelized. Eat and enjoy while reading the most excellent blog, Everything Is Better With Bacon. It’s written by the über-talented Elizabeth Shaw, who went to my rival high school in the Napa Valley. The blog is loaded with great recipes, and is every bit as addictive as bacon.
Finally, one more bacon note. On March 24 at 7pm, the Larchmont Larder is offering a cooking class called Everybody Loves Bacon! It’s $75/person, and here’s the menu:
Menu:
Warm Bacon Fontina Fundido
BLT Salad
Bacon-Wrapped Trout
Brussels Sprouts with Crispy Pancetta
Yukon Gold Potato Salad with Crispy Prosciutto and Truffle Oil
Chocolate-Oatmeal Cupcakes with Maple-Bacon Butter Cream
Last Sunday, we invited a few friends over for a “peasant’s dinner.” I had spent several days milk-braising a pork butt, which we served in a tomatoey sauce over polenta, along with some broccolini tossed in olive oil, anchovy paste, red pepper flakes and some parm. My friend Amy had made a now-famous warm shrimp and tuscan bean recipe, Adam brought homemade vanilla ice cream, and William—well, William, who was bringing the wine, went a different direction altogether. Let’s call it a rags-to-riches selection: a bottle of 1990 Chateau Lynch Bages Bordeaux, a truly spectacular wine from a truly spectacular vintage. It’s a powerhouse Cab-heavy blend with smokey, dark plummy flavors and a bit of spice. Oh my god. William, thank you so much for sharing this incredible bottle!
Last weekend we grabbed three cheeses from Surfas in Culver City—two cows milk and one sheep. The latter was a wonderful Pecorino Fresco, whichwas soft and mild. The other two were a sharp Vermont white Cheddar (what’s not to like?) and a small piece of St. Agur bleu. I usually go for a Stilton or Roquefort when I’m feeling bleu, but the guy behind the counter sold me on this double-cream cow’s milk blue from the Auvergne region in France. It’s kind of like a Roquefort, but milder and creamier—and not as salty as your typical blue. We went wild for it spread on Raincoast Crisp cranberry hazelnut crackers, which I got suckered into tasting at Whole Foods a few months ago before having first seen the “crunchy” packaging. The name is a total turnoff, as is the suggestion of dried cranberries in a cracker, but wow – they’re shockingly good, especially slathered with blue cheese!
This is our new (ish) kitchen windowsill, which means this army of caps has been amassed over the last eight months. There has been much to celebrate with family and friends, and tonight we will be adding one more soldier to the lineup since my mother is in town. A fine excuse to pop the cork!
Friday Follies [n., pl.] postings on Fridays about fashion and food in film from guest bloggers with impeccable taste.
While there have been some amazing films out over the past year, when the world is going a little bit crazy and I’m feeling the need for comfort, I turn to the golden years of movies – the eighties!
I was a “Jersey Girl” with an Aqua Net frosted perm, tooling around in my beloved periwinkle blue Firebird—sad but true. Back then my fashion inspirations leaned more towards Madonna and Downtown Julie Brown (wubba wubba my friends!) than my favored Rick Owens and Ann Demeulemeester of today. Modern media enthralled and inspired me, and Reaganomics (plus, in my case, a part-time job at Contempo Casuals) offered the possibility to buy it all.
My first pair of pricy sunglasses for example, were Ray-Ban Wayfarers ala Risky Business. For my “Best Dressed” picture in the yearbook, I sported drop-crotch harem pants ala Can’t Buy me Love, and my previously mentioned hairstyle was a dead ringer for SJP in Girls Just Want to Have Fun. But the film that undoubtedly had the most influence on me style-wise was the oh-so-classic Pretty in Pink.
The 1986 drama was the story of Andie, a girl from the wrong side of the tracks and her “richie” love interest Blane. Andie was magical in her style, taking thrift store frocks and altering or layering them into these wonderfully inventive looks. Her boss and mentor Iona on the other hand was fearless in her style, be it punk, priestess or 1950’s-housewife-on-a-hot-date, while her best friend Duckie worked a ratty beatnik kind of look that I find as charming today as I did back then.
Funny enough, many of the trends from that film are still relevant in fashion today. For example, I just bought this Alexander Wang oversize black blazer, $625 at La Garçonne, that reminds me of the one Andie wears in this picture.
I also scooped up a bunch of Kain’s fantastic modal and cashmere blend T-shirts and tank tops, this one, a dead ringer for Iona’s dress was a mere $85 at Madison Los Angeles.
At a whopping $860, they are a bit steep, but like another movie heroine of seasons past said, “I always rely on the kindness of strangers!”—Kim Friday, Senior Fashion Editor, WWD
Last weekend we had the most spectacular and theatrical dinner at The Bazaar, which I will happily admit is worth the hype. I love how the spaces within The Bazaar all work together—start with a drink at Bar Centro and move over to the main event at Rojo y Blanca, and then retire to the delightful Patisserie. Since I’m still sitting out desserts for lent, I can only say that if the desserts are half as good as my husband and friend Amy said they were, then I’m so back there in a month. In the meantime, I enjoyed meeting the gorgeous and super nice pastry chef Waylyn Lucas, and how great are her glasses? Here are a few pics of bonbons and environs.
I couldn’t believe it at Whole Foods yesterday when I saw these gorgeous spring onions, so even though I mentally had another dinner plan in place (grilled salmon, grilled asparagus), I had to grab them. We simply cut them down the middle with the root still attached to hold them in place, drizzled with olive oil and grilled them along with the asparagus. (Cut off the root just before serving.) So simple, so delicious.
However, if you want a far more inspired way to use these beauties, my friend Carolynn recently found herself with a bunch of large spring onions, or scallions. She did one better and asked her friend Chef Jonathan Waxman of Barbuto in NY what to do, and he gave her an inspired recipe for Smothered Green Onion Tacos. Look for spring onions in your green market this weekend, or check to see if they still have any at the Whole Foods on Third/Fairfax.
I heart cava. I heart Campari. I heart cava + Campari. The traditional Italian mix is sparkling Prosecco with Campari, but recently we tried subbing in cava (the best of these Spanish sparkling wines are dry, citrusy and nutty) with the bitter Campari—versus Prosecco, which too often goes the direction of sweet and apple-y. Cava + Campari makes a great aperitif, and the bitter and citrus combo makes for a lovely counterpoint to fatty or rich apps like cheese or jamón or olives, and is great with salty (Marcona almonds, Pecorino or parm). Of course, if you have a bummer bottle of cava or Prosecco or even Pinot Grigio, the forward bitterness of Campari is genius at doctoring up a less-than glass of still or sparkling white wine. Plus it’s so pretty! Pour a splash in the bottom of a wine glass and then top generously with your favorite or not-so-favorite icy-cold white.
If you are looking to find the foodiest dental hygienist in the city with the best restaurant recommendations (globally), immediately book in with Bonnie at the wonderful Dr. Sobelman’s office on Wilshire and La Cienega. Several years ago for a trip to Barcelona, a friend gave me a list of recommendations from Gourmet columnist Colman Andrews (and author of Catalan Cuisine) and I got one from Bonnie, and guess what? They were pretty much identical.
Today I met Bonnie and her foodie friend Tracy from London, and we had, predictably, a fantastic lunch at Pizzeria Mozza. As always, the service was exceptional. We ordered a few greatest hits, like the chicken liver bruschetta (my absolute favorite!), fried squash blossoms, tricolore salad, the egg and guanciale pizza with radicchio and bagna cauda, and then tried another with Coach Farm goat cheese and leeks. For dessert they enjoyed the divine butterscotch budino (which I had to sit out since I gave up dessert for lent), while I enjoyed a glimpse of an old TV fave—Don Johnson and his lovely wife, Kelley Phleger, eating lunch at the bar. Here are my two must-orders on the menu (though when available, the littleneck clam or wild nettle pizzas are right up there):
On Sunday night we had the best dinner with friends. Amy’s shrimp dish was incredible as was Adam’s homemade ice cream made with vanilla beans that Kathleen had brought back from Moorea, as were William’s wine selections (more on all of that later this week), but there was another shrimp who was the toast of the night, and that was Tiny G. He was rocking some chocolate brown angora slippers that his aunt Stefanie sent him from New York. Ironically enough they’re made right here in L.A. by a company called Yo My Booties in Venice. They’re available in a delicious range of colors—and look, there’s a food theme with the colors: cotton candy, blueberry, lime, pumpkin, cream, chocolate! I wish they came in adult sizes because not only are they incredibly soft but chic beyond belief. So is their, ahem, $50 price tag. (Stefanie!!!!)
As promised, here is Chef Paul Bartolotta’s recipe for warm shrimp and cannellini beans that our friend Amy made for a bunch of us for dinner last night. It’s one of those perfect dishes that is rustic and simple, and the sum of its humble ingredients add up to deliver in a big way. We got the cherry tomatoes and basil at the Larchmont Farmers Market on Sunday morning, and then we got large Mexican shrimp at Santa Monica Seafood since they didn’t have tiger prawns on hand, but they said next time with a couple days notice they’d happily order them for us. This recipe serves 10-12.
Gamberi e Fagioli Cannellini / Bartolotta Ristorante di Mare
24 giant tiger prawns (large shrimp)
3 cups canned cannellini beans
1 cup extra virgin olive oil
2 pints cherry tomatoes quartered
10 medium torn basil leaves
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
Preparation:
·Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil.
·Boil shrimp for approximately 4 minutes.
·Add rinsed cannellini beans to water with shrimp
·Cook 1 minute
·Strain shrimp and beans
·Combine with cherry tomatoes, olive oil, salt, pepper and basil
·Serve
Update 3/18/09: I made this tonight for my book club, and served as a main course, in which case the recipe as written serves 6-8. Also, I got some enormous uncooked shrimp from Whole Foods with shells on, and peeled and deveined them. Worth the effort (and the savings, though kinda gross). This recipe is awesome, and best part is that it’s pretty guilt-free…
Yesterday my friend Amy and I went to check out Santa Monica Seafood’s new digs and wow. It’s massive, and in addition to all of that beautiful fresh seafood, there is also a cafe and oyster bar. I’ll be going back soon to eat, but yesterday we were there to pick up some gorgeous Mexican shrimp for a recipe for which Amy and I had tipsy-texted Paul Bartolotta in the wee hours in the cab home from our extravaganza at The Bazaar (and of course, being a chef in Las Vegas, Paul was still going strong and immediately responded to our plea). Check back later today for the recipe! In the meantime, here are a few pics of Santa Monica Seafood (now at Wilshire & 10th):
Speaking of hype, everyone has been talking about Virbila’s four-star review of The Bazaar, José Andrés’ new place inside the SLS Hotel. Our friend Amy is in town from Las Vegas, so we thought we should go check it out. I had been for lunch when it first opened, but was dying to go back since the recent press. If you haven’t been yet, the SLS Hotel is about as glitzy as it gets even by Vegas standards, and looking around at the impossibly good-looking clientele it seems unlikely that good food is being served here, let alone being eaten. But it is! Instead of me going on and on and on and on about how ridiculously amazing and theatrical it all is (and believe me, it is), I’m going to let the photos speak for themselves.Oh, and I’ll post later in the week on dessert. See if you can spot the weird molecular science in the below photos. Hint: we didn’t eat any mozzarella or olives last night but we tasted both…
On Friday night after our knifing class, we stopped by the Kogi truck on Cloverdale and Wilshire in Miracle Mile for a quick bite on our way home. Who should we bump into, but the reigning king of tacos himself, Jimmy Shaw and a friend. (Jimmy is the chef/owner of Loteria, which is hands down the best Mexican food in Los Angeles.) So given all the crazy amounts of national and even international press the Kogi truck has been getting—Newsweek, NPR, FT, you name it—we were all curious to if these Korean-style tacos could possibly live up to the hype. Jimmy ordered one of each taco (Korean short ribs, spicy pork, BBQ chicken, tofu), while we loaded up on Korean short rib tacos, one tofu taco, and then a kimchi quesadilla, which the four of us shared.
The Korean short ribs are hands down the way to go. They’re topped with sesame-chile salsa roja, cabbage in a very vinegary chile soy sauce, cilantro and sea salt. The tofu is a complete waste of time. I was most excited to taste the kimchi quesadilla, which is why it was what was most disappointing. It’s made with what tastes like Velveeta. I’m guessing on that because I’ve never had Velveeta, but whatever it was, it wasn’t good. But I like the direction it was going and I LOVE kimchi, so I might try to replicate at home with better cheese.
It was interesting to note the crowd – a lot of Louis Vuitton and logo-ed Coach bags and multiple sightings of Tory Burch ballet flats (the kiss of death to any hipster credibility this gig is trying to hold onto). In the meantime, yes, you should by all means to try to intercept one of the Koji trucks via Twitter while it’s hot, or go check them out at the Alibi after 6pm. Or, do what we will be doing next time, and head straight to Loteria.
In a few hours I’ll be heading for LAX to begin a three-leg journey to Portugal for a weeklong business trip. Several birthdays ago, my friend Booth got me a 
I also picked up a 
Dana went with two fantastic Blair numbers:
But the highlight of our shopping adventure was a girl walking past, arms loaded up with Anna Sui looks inspired by Vanessa (who is TRULY my least favorite character), and yelling into her cell phone, “Don’t stress! There’s still some left.”
For the newly initiated, POSTCARDS is recurring feature with fashion advice from my dear friend Billy, an art consultant with a wicked eye and even wickeder wardrobe. In this edition, he reflects on this past round of September issues of fashion mags. (Btw, has anyone seen 
Yet gloveless, triumph he did over two dozen of these little guys. We cracked open a bottle of Charles Heidsieck blanc de blancs (crisp, dry with mineral notes—perfect with the oysters!) and served with my favorite mignonette, which has just a little heat from jalapeños—again, a match made in heaven with a crisp, dry Champagne. Here’s the recipe. Also, I used Vietnamese cilantro from our herb garden instead of traditional cilantro—but either way, totally addictive.
My friend and 
Though, seriously, get a load of what Andrea ordered. La Quercia speck with fried eggs, arugula and lemon. Next time I am all over it:
After a couple of mimosas we stopped in next door at 
Then cook in a skillet over medium heat with some olive oil, salt and pepper, and a pinch of red pepper flakes for about five minutes, until softened and cooked through.
Let’s just say that all emergency kits should include a bottle of 
After octopus is tender (test with a knife), remove from heat and drain and allow to cool. Meanwhile, bring 4-5 Yukon Gold potatoes to a boil and cook until tender, about 15 minutes. Peel and quarter potatoes and put in a medium-sized bowl. Toss with the following: 1/2 cup good olive oil, 4 thinly sliced scallions, a thinly sliced red onion, grated zest and juice of two lemons, and a cup of pitted kalamata olives. Stir and season with salt and pepper.
I’m so impressed by how Felipe brought it all together. There is a layer of fine mesh atop the plywood, which keeps the gravel from falling in, but allows the water to trickle through to the tub beneath and recirculate so that water continuously spills over the fountain edge (much like an infinity pool). It’s dreamy. And so calming. Now I’m on the hunt for some vintage French metal garden chairs to place beside it for a sunset drink. How pleasant would that be?
This morning I went to Hollywood Farmers Market to pick up some chervil and shishito peppers to round things out, but neither of the herb guys will have either for at least another two weeks. So instead I got some gorgeous farm fresh eggs and made breakfast, and then sprinkled the eggshells over the herb garden to keep the snails out:
More on the garden tomorrow!
For the newly initiated, POSTCARDS is recurring feature with fashion advice from my dear friend Billy, an art consultant with a wicked eye and even wickeder wardrobe. In this edition, he packs his bags for his 20th high school reunion. And for those of you who caught the Gossip Girls ’80s flashback on Monday, the timing couldn’t be better…
On Friday we headed to Palm Springs for a weekend of relaxation at the new 
Here’s the main saltwater pool, again, before the crowds have hit (read: woken up). 
Then I spread the feta mixture on one half of a tortilla, and then topped with torn squash blossoms and a little freshly cracked pepper.
My sister was visiting this weekend, and was wearing a pair of gold “
From there we put it back in the oven for 10 minutes, until the crust was golden brown. Insanely good. I used an Alessi roller in the below photo mostly because I love the color, but last year for Christmas my friend Diane gave me an oversized 
Then you simply toss the radicchio with fresh basil leaves. The fresh ricotta gets a drizzle of olive oil. Serve together.
Then you grill for about 3 1/2 to 4 minutes a side for medium-rare. But the pièce de résistance is the porcini mustard sauce, which would be great with steak as well. From 
Saturday night we went to what has to be one of the best dinner parties in memory at our friends Katie and Matt’s. Let’s just say that when one of your fellow guests shows up with vacuum-sealed 
They say that breakfast is the most important meal of the day, after all, so why shouldn’t we dress for it?
If you missed Booth Moore’s story about 
Last December I tucked a bottle of 
Pour the sauce over the pasta in the bowl. Add the chiles and stir. Spoon into the prepared dish. In a small bowl, combine reserved cup of grated parm and the bread crumbs.
Several years ago I was given this 
The Korean short ribs are hands down the way to go. They’re topped with sesame-chile salsa roja, cabbage in a very vinegary chile soy sauce, cilantro and sea salt. The tofu is a complete waste of time. I was most excited to taste the kimchi quesadilla, which is why it was what was most disappointing. It’s made with what tastes like Velveeta. I’m guessing on that because I’ve never had Velveeta, but whatever it was, it wasn’t good. But I like the direction it was going and I LOVE kimchi, so I might try to replicate at home with better cheese.
It was interesting to note the crowd – a lot of Louis Vuitton and logo-ed Coach bags and multiple sightings of Tory Burch ballet flats (the kiss of death to any hipster credibility this gig is trying to hold onto). In the meantime, yes, you should by all means to try to intercept one of the Koji trucks via Twitter while it’s hot, or go check them out at the Alibi after 6pm. Or, do what we will be doing next time, and head straight to Loteria.