The Happy Kitchen of the Single Girl

$7 Snobs

2012-02-06T20:46:00.000-06:00

I dined at a local restaurant today of which I'd heard mixed reviews but had high hopes. The chef and his modest family of outposts are local heros, and his empire slowly expands throughout the country as I type this. It should be noted that to a certain degree, I am a little cynical of rapid expansion when it comes to restaurants. There is (however unwarranted) suspected fraud about a chef who blankets television, kicks out a few cookbooks and opens a small arsenal of restaurants all within a relatively short amount of time (even if his or her initial joints went nationally unknown for the first five or eight years of their lives).

So if the chef and his or her partners have it together enough to divide and conquer, and (s)he becomes a media darling while maintaing quality and dignity in the kitchen, excellent. Truly, excellent. A win for the ongoing war in creating and propagating good food! What if, along with that win and the fame and the import and the elbow-rubbing, comes... well... snobbery? What if an inflated sense of self and mission greets diners the second they sit down? What does that seasoning taste like?

I entered, sat down at the bar, ordered a really lovely cider on tap and looked through the menu. I decided on a simple cheeseburger (their signature item) and a small house salad, "to start", I uttered. My bartender let out a curt smile, asked my temperature preference and took my menu. As I waited for the food to arrive, I looked around at the space. Reminders of its chef were everywhere, the room was branded. My eyes eventually fell upon three laminated cards wedged into the top of the condiment holder (which held six house-brand sauces). One item was a cocktail menu, one was a happy hour list and the third was a set of instructions. Wait, instructions? Behavioral modifications for a casual restaurant? Are you serious? To wit:

******

1. Welcome to [restaurant]! Help us help you!

2. No Whining! We will do our very best to make everyone happy. Just like line jumpers at an amusement park, whiners will be prosecuted & removed from the establishment. Life is short, have fun & enjoy the moment.

3. Due to the fact that we do not take reservations.... we need your cooperation and patience. We already assume that you know Michael, Liz, Doug, the Mayor, President Obama, etc... We will seat everyone in the order in which they arrive & only seat complete parties. We will do our very best to quote wait times correctly. Occasionally we may be a little off. Please refer to rule #2 if you are feeling any strange urges.

4. All food will come to the table together. This way we'll keep everything running ship shape & keep waits to a minimum. If you're interested in courses...ask your caddie.

5. We have a burger for every taste (even vegetarians)!! If there is something you do NOT want on your burger, let us know and we will take it off. Due to the many choices & thought put into their composition, we ask that you do not substitute or add items.

6. How our temperatures work...

RARE:

blood red, cold/cool in center

MID RARE:

reddish, cool in the center

MEDIUM:

reddish/pink, warm center

MID WELL:

barely pink, warm center

WELL:

no pink, very sad, hot center

7. If you're reading these, making funny faces & squinching your nose...you're too uptight! You should immediately consume bourbon, beer or your beverage of choice & relax a little!

******

Ok in full disclosure, I've worked for restaurants wherein we'd have LOVED to say these things to customers. Like every time someone tried to drop the name of an owner in hopes of a better or quicker table, all the instances customers unwittingly tried to change the structure of a well-composed dish by adding or removing one ingredient, the insistance that they be right whatever the cost, the person that orders their meat cooked well. We'd have loved to have gotten away with that kind of cheek.

But we knew that we couldn't. Shouldn't. Mustn't. It's bad form. It's a bit classless and above all, it's arrogant. There may be some leeway in a four star restaurant wherein you surrender to the chef and staff, you allow yourself to be whisked away and taken to another land. Where you enjoy not having to make decisions or do anything but simply be fed. The act of surrender, subservience, humility all in the name of being present for the pleasure of being in someone else's home. So what of the restaurant that actually has the balls to say things like that? To tell you how to behave, what to do and what not to do and then ends it all with "but have a great time! Love, [chef]" Do you really believe that's what they want for you? Exactly whose great time do they want you to have? Clearly not yours, you rube. How dare you screw up the pacing of the evening by requesting your salad come first!

I've said this before to anyone I dine with wherein the experience raises my eyebrows - perhaps I've spent way too much time in food service. Maybe I've got it wrong. But I can never go back, I can never unsee and unknow what I've learned by working behind the scenes. If I'd never dined out before and was greeted with this list of rules, I'd wonder what sort of evening I was in for. Sure, the staff is smiling and joking, wearing jeans and greeting diners with a casual coolness, but they just got done telling me that my preferences aren't allowed or ok and my opinion probably doesn't count for much when it's all said and done.

If Per Se tells me red shoes are forbidden and I'm to have my hemline below the knee for the privilege of dining with them, I may roll my eyes and gripe to my friends but you better believe the shoes are staying in the closet and my pencil skirt is coming out because I know that what I'd get there, is perfection. I can't do what they do, even if there IS a book telling me how. That dinner costs rent and I'd be in the presence of the masterclass. They can tell me how to hold my fork, if they want to. Because frankly in that environment, they do know better than I do.

But today's establishment was a burger and beer joint. There was absolutely nothing fancy about it. Bologna was on the menu. My check came in under $15. I was wearing Vans and entered holding a Trader Joe's shopping bag with a few wares I'd just picked up. My burger was smaller than my hand and came a la carte. I couldn't have been farther from Per Se if I and they tried.

So what does it mean that in today's dining establishments some restaurants deem it perfectly acceptable to wag a finger in your face and impress upon the diner a certain degree of unwelcome before even ordering? Isn't this the hospitality industry?

It's easy to be cynical in service work - it's impossible not to be, actually. We see all sides of people and in every type of restaurant we see entitlement. Some diners forget their manners and are two seconds from snapping in the air every time they need something and after many years of it, it becomes natural to presume the worst of people from time to time. But much like a chef double-dipping a tasting spoon, the public isn't supposed to see that. And frankly, for people who enjoy dining out but have never worked the other side of it, God bless you. You've been spared. But those that make a living, or at least did for a while, on the inside must remember our grace. We too have to have manners, what the public doesn't know about the man behind the curtain is ok. Preferred, actually. To let them see the catty judgment that runs rampant when two industry workers get together is just...tacky. Especially in print.

Cutting Boards

2011-11-21T08:38:00.000-06:00

Hey Everybody! My friend Bob makes some beautiful cutting boards (so pretty that I'd feel bad taking my knife to them).

(This is the one that I want, ooo ooo ooo honey)

He's got an Etsy shop and is super friendly and cool. If you want to get your favorite knife-wielder something handmade and lovely this year (and locally sourced, hippies!), he's your man.

http://sawhorsewoodworks.blogspot.com/

Of My Own

2011-11-02T22:09:00.000-05:00

Oh, hi.

So I'm in a new city, did I forget to mention? I moved from Chicago to Cleveland around October 1st and haven't regretted it for a second. I've had such a soft landing from friends and almost immediate job prospects that I can't possibly complain. It was absolutely the right move.

Thing is, two things actually, are these: One, I really miss my own kitchen. I just came across an ad for an apartment on craigslist for only $600 a month for a beautiful two bedroom upper unit with a huge kitchen (Cleveland). I am literally keeping myself from calling the person right this very second. I need more of a stockpile before I can make the move. The motivations are many, but the biggest part is the kitchen. I've been in my friends' home for the better part of a month now (minus a week long cross-country road trip) and tonight was the very first time I'd cooked for myself. I've been living on salads from a fantastic grocery store called Heinen's (the salad bar rivals Whole Foods and is half the price - again, Cleveland). I made a salmon fillet with a side of steamed green beans and some garlic/lemon/"butter". It was delicious. But it wasn't my kitchen. I haven't had my own kitchen in almost five years, and before that, four years. I miss having my own kitchen. A lot. My current situation renders the title of this blog even more pathetic sounding, doesn't it?

Secondly, I was connected with a restaurant here in town which is on a more casual par with my former restaurant in Chicago (not the most recent one, but the one previous which is recognizable and accomplished). The feel was similar, familiar. Comforting, actually. I was woo'ed by them with a fantastic meal at the chef's table and an invitation to come work there. At first I was thrilled, really excited about the idea; being part of another great restaurant with a very talented rising chef (who if you haven't heard of yet, you absolutely will in the coming year). Then things began to feel... off. Just... off. Questions weren't being answered, the left hand didn't seem to know what the right hand was doing and I wasn't feeling confident that it was the right move for me. Which was a strange and sad feeling. Was it the restaurant or was it me? Something had changed. I'd always wanted to be around talent, especially talented chefs. I've been drawn to chefs for years, even dated a few. They interested me the way vintage cars interest certain people. So what was happening there?

I received a full time job offer from my good friend, in a completely different line of work. A line of work revolving around a hobby which I do love but know nothing about in terms of the business that allows for it. But my friend has total confidence in me and has taken me under his wing to get me up and running as a functional member of the team. I drafted a gracious, appreciative email to the restaurant chefs and owners and with a certain amount of uncertainty, hit 'send'. Several hours ago, I received a response from the Executive Chef (the one you'll be hearing about) telling me he was sorry and asking to meet with me.

After a long talk with an aforementioned former chef I once dated, he insisted I was over-thinking it and should be happy to take the opportunity to get away from the restaurant industry while I could. As if it had been a punishment all this time. But it's not, I do love it. I was having a hard time articulating to him why I feel almost guilty about turning the down position (whatever position it would have been).

Then it occurred to me, and I unknowingly alluded to this in my email, that in spite of all the wonderful learning and experiences I've gained from my time in the industry I think it's time to be an observer. To appreciate the experiences with fresh eyes rather than the nitpicky ones that come from so many years inspecting service. To be able to relax and enjoy a particular dish or glass of wine without critique... how glorious! It's time to be a civilian once again (if that's even possible after so many years). It's time to have nights and weekends off (glory be!) and not base my personal clock on a five-hour skew from the rest of the world. I'm pretty excited about that.

I imagine actually, that when I move out and because I won't be working in restaurants anymore, that I will cook a lot more than I have the last year or so. This journal will be back up and running like it used to. I'll be healthier. I'm already happier. Onward. Upward. Come with.

Because I Can

2011-08-16T12:01:00.004-05:00

A conversation I almost never have, even with fellow servers, is why we do it. Or rather, why we keep doing it. Many of us have higher degrees, sometimes two, and many have had careers within our tenure as food service workers. Yet, many of us choose (in most cases) to stay in service when the world and so many of our peers say we should be moving on to more established, adult roles. So why do we stay in the industry knowing that for the most part, we are looked down upon for being in it?

At work today, during a particularly slow lunch during which none of us could make even anything close to covering our weekend spending, a fellow server and I were having that very discussion. It began as a self-deprecating, “I’m so happy my two degrees are serving me so well…no, I’m sorry, we don’t have nachos, sir” but eventually grew into an articulate conversation about what we do with our funded freedom, and why we choose to stay in a profession (or at a job, depending on how you look at it) which is deemed menial by most standards. Being in service makes a person, if they choose to embrace this element of it, the mayor of their own little town for their shift. My seven tables will have a good experience if it’s in my control. They’ll feel taken care of and special if I can help it. I’ll make them laugh, answer questions they think may be silly (but never are) and they’ll hopefully want to come back. It’s all the control that I have, barring kitchen mistakes and management silliness.

The conversation stuck with me for hours after. I wondered how it worked itself into my daily life so I thought for a moment and listed off my weekend activities:

Friday – worked lunch then went to a few places with some co-workers where we drank fantastic cocktails in industry-friendly bars (and paid far below market prices), mentioned The Smiths to the bartender and proceeded to sing about eight songs along with that bartender and then stepped out happily into the night.

Saturday – worked a grueling double with only the happy memories of the previous evening to sustain me. Made good money, all cash, claimed all for taxes winkwink (I kid, I kid…)

Sunday – after a failed attempt to visit family, I napped on and off all day then gathered myself together and headed to the homo-centric part of town for Market Days. Had a fun, strange, interesting night with one of my very best bests. Did not make a single gay boyfriend, however (to which two of my favorite gays replied, “REALLY?!”)

This weekend I have plotted a much-needed getaway where I’ll be staying with friends who assured me, if I could just get there that they would take care of the rest. So I’m getting there.

What do these things have to do with being in service? One word: Freedom.

During my time as a server (and bartender and host and manager and and and), I have had the most delicious honor of working with and for three of – arguably – the best chefs Chicago has ever turned out. As such, because they are fantastic teachers, I have the delicious honor of not only being welcomed into their restaurants but now at the restaurants their former sous chefs who have left the nests. Tonight, I decided to put on a cute summer dress and walk over to the newest one in the crop. My chef friend wasn’t there, but a former co-worker was (three, actually). I sat at the bar where I ate four amazing plates of food and sampled several perfectly paired wines. The night ended in the most appropriate way: a discussion about Morrissey which lead to the entire restaurant having to endure several Smiths songs in a row, simply to satisfy two people. The check was half what it should have been, and I know that when I left three hours later, I had a standing invitation to return at any time. This is a common tale repeated around town with both friends and former strangers. Industry is family, whether you talk or see each other often enough to qualify that. It’s a welcoming commonality and when it’s based around exceptional food and drink, well that makes it all the better.

Perhaps it’s because I’m passionate about food. I imagine sports people or mechanics or attorneys are the same way. They get around their brethren and things fall into line. A wink and a nod, a knowing glance, a universal inside joke. But when it comes to food… lovingly prepared and delivered to friends, something very special happens. Bonding and discussion, yes. But tonight I gazed at my delicate, thoughtfully constructed cheese plate and glass of lovely Italian white and I truly had a moment. The music, the company, the food and drink – all was right with the world. And I have to owe a large part of that to industry. Not simply because I was in a restaurant but because I got it. I knew where the mussels and squid in my seafood salad came from. I know the farmer who grew my baby cucumbers, I’ve met him on several occasions. I know the man who created the dishes, we’ve shared drinks and hugs.

I’ve said this before, but it’s so much more than fuel for the machine. At least to me, it is. It’s a part of my life that when it takes knocks and hits, I feel them deeply. Leaving my previous job was really hard for a while, it still is sometimes. I left a nurturing, educating environment and felt so completely out of the loop. Suddenly I was depending on GrubStreet and Eater for new food news like the rest of the world and that didn’t feel good. Funnily enough, I was on my way to one of the aforementioned industry bars last week and ran into my former chef on the street. He waved to me first and when we met in the middle of the road to catch up it was like not a moment had passed. I walked way so very grateful that he’s not the egomaniac so many of them are, yet another lesson learned.

At a job interview months ago, I was asked if I was willing to commit long-term to the restaurant I was interviewing with. Never mind my general fear of commitment, but that’s impossible to answer because well, I never know where the wind will take me but also, it’s service. Who KNOWS what I could be doing with that in five years. Maybe I won’t be in it, maybe I’ll have found my dream job near it, maybe I’ll finally get to design those menus and branding for that restaurant that one particular chef asked me to do almost a year ago. Who knows? I do know that no matter what happens in the future, some part of me will be in it. Or at the very least, near it. And no, that does not make me terribly depressed but thanks for asking.

It’s no coincidence that I am in my 30s and as yet unmarried without kids, and am in service. I have had three careers in my time and have two degrees. It’s not for lack of want or trying that I don’t earn a salary and haven’t been insured since 2005. It weighs on me, I won’t lie, but being in service during this time of my life assures a freedom that I need while I can still run with it. Eventually I do want to settle down. I’d trade a Friday afternoon at the pub for a couch movie fest most days, but for now I have the best of both worlds – the pub today and the couch hopefully again soon. And that is the one thing I look forward to daily.

Been a Little Quiet

2011-03-27T14:22:00.000-05:00

Hi. Um, sorry for the delays in posts. You see, things have shifted a bit and well, I just don't have access to material the way I used to and actually, that's been on my mind quite a bit lately.

Due to an overlap in employment as well as some potentially personal and political reasons, the hours at my previous job were cut severely in favor of more time at my new job - also a restaurant. It's new, casual, accessible, loud, crowded, arguably low-brow and well, just...really different than where I was before. It's nice to be able to wear jeans rather than high heels and it's also been nice to talk casually with tables or tell blue jokes without whispering or containing giggles but man do I miss the old place. I miss those heels and stifled belly laughs much more than I thought I would. I miss keeping up with food trends and information. I miss being around such talented chefs and absorbing the effect of a new dish, the crackle of creativity and vicarious excitement of diners experiencing something for the first time.

I miss my friends there. I miss laughing about our first world problems ("what's for family?" "duck. AGAIN") and hiding flattery as diners took pictures of our food. I miss the feeling of knowing I worked somewhere world-renown and for such a nice, ego-free chef (how often can anyone in the industry say that?). I miss it.

Funny thing is that I've fallen into something I wanted to do when I was an idealistic teenager. I'm helping to open a cafe - and on someone else's dime. I get to build a menu. I picked out the stands and baskets we'll use for display. I trained a few people. I made a schedule. Inventory and purchase sheets are being completed as I type this (special thanks to my spreadsheet monkey). I set up some pastry tastings and am pretty sure we found a fantastic bakery to provide us with some excellent eats. But... it's not mine. The vision is ultimately, someone else's to dictate. The staff has to wear a pre-determined outfit, for example, something I would never do were it my own place.

There's an account man out there who needs it all down to the penny. Every last stir stick and lid accounted for. Espresso bean loss per drink... I don't know this stuff. I don't want to know it. It would be silly to think I could ever open my own place and not know it, but I didn't think I'd have to know it for this.

It's a step up from running coats up and down the stairs or pulling chairs and tables out for guests to slip by. I am no longer on the bottom rung of the restaurant hierarchy as a lowly host, this is true. But in not working there now, something slipped out of my grasp. The joy of seeing new dishes walk by, of talking to the cooks and chefs about them while they work them out, the specialty of it. It's gone from me and it's sad. That restaurant and its food became so much more than a job for me, never a mere paycheck. It fed me - and I'm not talking about family meal, even if it is duck again.

The Complicated Sky of Michelin Stars

2010-11-20T13:31:00.001-06:00

This entry has been rolling around in my head for weeks. I had no idea how to start it, what exactly to say, which tone to use, all in a vain attempt to keep from repeating what has been said all along by a dozen other writers and commentators. Futility, I suspect.

Michelin. The French-born guide to the most notable ("best" is no longer a word I will choose to use however, explanation to follow) restaurants in a particular area. Arguably, Europe pays far more credence and attention to Michelin stars than Americans as it is still a new concept to us. We're more the Zagat (and to a lesser extent, Yelp)-influenced crowd. Besides, who wants to admit that something that comes from the snooty French would actually be useful to us (aside from like, a massive influence on food)? Well, that last question may have recently been answered actually.

It began last year. We started to hear rumblings that Michelin was doing a book on Chicago, which is exceedingly appropriate, important and arguably long overdue. Some of the most notable and influential chefs have come from Chicago in the last several years and the spotlight has most definitely been on us in recent times. We were due. New York and San Francisco already had books which while important, didn't make much of a rumble here in Chicago. Aside from French Laundry, what food stuff happens in/near San Francisco anyway? New York is a no-brainer. It's the closest to Europe that America has, it's fitting they should have been the first.

So after some speculation, attempts to keep ears to the ground and gossip at a minimum, the stars started to come down. Or I should say, the rumors of stars started to come down. We all had a feeling who would get the coveted three stars. Alinea was a shoe-in and the second of two awardees, L20, was no shock.

Interestingly, or maybe not, I interviewed for a host position at L20 about 14 months ago. It was warm out so I was in an above-the-knee skirt, black top, red pumps and had my short nails painted a dark red. Sounds questionable but I promise it was more hip than whore. I sat across from the hiring manager who looked me up and down slowly before focusing on my fingernails. "You can't have that color nail here", he said rather cooly but matter-of-fact. I knew right then that I would not accept the offer to stage which came the following day. I politely declined stating that I felt I was the wrong fit for them, but thanks for the opportunity. Bullet dodged. I was looking for a second job but I knew that could not be it. [My restaurant] would never say something like that, I remember thinking. L20 it seemed, was/is/was perhaps the sort of restaurant that wants its staff to blend into the background. Be seen, briefly, and rarely heard. The food is the focus. Don't joke, don't connect, don't interfere. The opposite of what we do at my current place of business. Thank God.

Onward. So the book was meant to come out on Wednesday the 19th. Parties had been planned, champagne was chilling, nails were bitten. Then, out of nowhere, some guy apparently got hold of an early copy and blew it for everyone. Michelin Powers pushed the publication date up by 24 hours as well as all announcements. I was working the lunch shift on Tuesday morning so I was in front of Twitter by 9am, watching the feed grow and explode with real-time confirmations. Congrats, popped corks, high fives, shout outs - it was like when you graduate from High School and all hell breaks loose after they tell you to move your tassels over. It was exciting, tense and just... bananas.

Except for us. My restaurant's star, one star, had a dark cloud hanging over it. Our sister restaurant experienced a small fire in August which prohibited Michelin from reviewing it one last time prior to its September shut-down in time for its November publication. Not knowing when our sister would open, they couldn't in good faith include it in the book just in case worse came to worst and it remained closed. That cost our sister at least one star and it was tragic. The sadness, disappointment and helplessness was palpable. It overshadowed our own star. Well, that's one element that overshadowed it. The other was the company we kept in our one star.

This is where it gets tricky and this is what I've been thinking a lot about. I'm trying to examine motives - is it snobbery? Straight up indignant disappointment? Or do the French (and American Michelin reviewers) really just have no freaking clue what they're talking about when it comes to American cuisine? I think, kinda, it's all three. The list of one stars is long and varied. We have here a representation of everything from the casual flannel-and-mustache clad hipster gastropub to the jeans-are-ok date restaurant to white tablecloths and coat check establishments. Some have been around for five years, some are about to hit their 13th and some, for less than a year.

So what does one star mean? We know what three stars means, three stars is as good as it gets. Period. Three stars and little room to move beyond that is in part, why Marco Pierre White gave his back. Things had started to shift for him, the stars changed the way he thought about his passion. The stars became bigger than what he set out to do and that was make great food and give a total experience to people.

During this great roundtable interview with the (recently former) head of the Michelin Guide and three Chicago chefs (two who won stars this week and one who received a Bib Gourmand last week), some hard questions are asked regarding aging yet still respected chefs, how Michelin decided on some of those stars and those glaring omissions... ok, one in particular. At one point, the interviewer asks if business is expected to increase due to the stars and while the restaurants who are established and are already at capacity most nights won't be expecting much of a bump in domestic growth, hope to see some more international diners visit. That's important to note. I've said this all week since the disappointment set in: If the restaurant is worth its salt, the restaurant makes the Guide and not the other way around. The Guide would not exist were it not for the restaurants and their hard work. The restaurants function just fine without that Guide. Stars are an afterthought in most (arguably, deserving) cases. The goods are there to back the stars up and that is the point. It's when a restaurant gets on that one star list that no one, if not very few, people can understand why that is the frustration we now feel. That is being made to sit next to the stinky kid in class who talks too much when you're just trying to keep your head down and get your work turned in on time. It has, to some, discredited all we thought Michelin could give.

All in all, the overall afterglow is much less intense than I think those chefs were feeling about it just this past Monday. Some are feeling totally elated, some are feeling quite disappointed. Grateful, but disappointed. Michelin will revisit next year and things will absolutely change. At some point they're going to have to acknowledge Hot Doug's and its ilk. This town is not built on foie gras in the slightest. We eat some serious meats and cheeses here, folks. Pizzas, beefs, dogs... these things are in our bones. Built into the city plan. The DNA. The water. No really, the water. Our day will come, both Chicago and my second home. And third home. And maybe my hot dog home near my home. Either way, 2010 is not the end of the story and I think we're all pretty interested to see who rises and who falls.

Food Snobs vs. Mouth Breathers

2010-10-29T11:49:00.001-05:00

Relax, I'm kidding.

Mostly.

Chicagoist, with their somewhat reliable reporting, is an interesting go-to for the local food information though I tend to prefer GrubStreet a little more. They tend to not "break" news that isn't ready to break yet. Thrillist, I'm looking at you... ahem.

Anyway, Crain's posted this article the other day about food fans (the other "f word" is banished, heretofore) and Chicagoist re-posted it allowing for additional comments. Go ahead and read it, I'll wait.

A "War" On Foodies?

This is where we should eat, if we want to be less snobby.

As we've experienced in our own comments section, some people are tired of the worship of food and just want everything to return to normal. By normal, they seem to mean the Wonder bread and chain restaurant world of the suburban 1960s, where people ordered, ate, paid and didn't think too much about things. Well, if you feel that way, you aren't alone; the media is getting in on the act. Chow reported yesterday on what they call "the war against foodies" - newspapers mocking those of us who love food and drink a little too much.

In a "Non-Foodies Food Guide," The Oregonian wrote, "Call them gourmands, connoisseurs, picky eaters, or just plain old snobs. Foodies blog, write and chat about pet restaurants, trends and chefs. They leave little room on their plates or in their hearts for fast food, family dining and the untrendy. And they can be pretty mean to some places we love." Apparently, foodies hate families, mid-priced chains, blue-collar workers, coffee that isn't denoted in Italian, large portions and anything that doesn't involve foam. Oh, and we're mean too.

James Norton, writing on Chow, doesn't pull any punches. First, he reminds us that most "foodies" hate that word, since it makes them sound like idiots. More important, he argues that a real foodie is someone who loves the best of any kind of food, from hamburgers to diner milkshakes to foie gras, and that this reaction is simply a backlash of the uninformed. We are forced to agree, and to add that snobbery and expertise are not necessary qualities of the gourmet - all you need is enthusiasm, open-mindedness and a desire to experience new things.

Norton also pushes back against the ridicule of those who wish to control what they eat. As he puts it, "There's nothing "foodie" or exclusive about recognizing that a lot of so-called family dining and fast food is just garbage. It's an objective fact. If your diet consists principally of an industrially processed pile of affordable carbs, butter, sugar, and meats, guess what: You've got a lot of doctor's visits in your future. There's nothing "foodie" about rejecting 1,800-calorie entrées that are mostly fat and salt; it's just good sense."

We've certainly encountered these sentiments before. Chefs occasionally complain about photography and blogging in their restaurants, and lots of our friends mock our "esteemed tastes" when we dine out. While obnoxious food snobs are a pain in the neck, chefs and publications should remember who pays the bills. If everyone who cared about food stopped reading the dining sections of newspapers or blogs, they wouldn't have much left. Similarly, if everyone who identified as a "foodie" stopped going to high-end restaurants, there would be lots of empty tables. Oh, and just a note - we'll be having a grilled cheese sandwich on white bread for lunch, in case you were wondering.

Click here for the article on the Chicagoist website.

Ok, back? So what did you think of that? Do they have a point, is this sour grapes and if so, sour grapes about what, exactly? What is so wrong with passion when it comes to food and the enjoyment of it? Surely given today's standards it's not exactly Roman Empire-esuqe hedonism. With the fold of Gourmet Magazine and the rise of Rachel Ray and her followers, we're not living in some elitist food world where the enjoyment bubble is occupied by a select few which leaves the masses outside looking in. Great food is more accessible now than ever before (relative to your town and exposure, I suppose) and it's just waiting for you to get on the stick. It's for everyone.

Not all of us can go to Tru or Alinea and fork (...) over all that dosh for a huge and memorable experience - and that's ok. That's why prix fixe lunch menus are the cheapest, quickest ways to get to know a restaurant that is normally out of your reach. And, I suppose, Restaurant Week as well though I gotta be honest, that is a whole other post. And given that we just signed up for another one coming in February, believe you me there WILL be a post. An angry, exhausted post.

The article hits on something important though and that is that in order to consider oneself the F word, there must be balance. Ever read interviews with chefs? Their last meals are not at the French Laundry, they're at their mother's tables. Or the corner burger joint. Or a Coney Island dog. Their favorites are simple, they are the things that raised them. It's ok to get off your couch after watching Survivor and have pizza delivered. No one will flog you for grabbing a number five at BK (least of all me. Those burgers are the best of the fast food bunch, I stand by that). Something about the new wave of F word types feel like you have to eat the best of the best all the time and look down on those who don't - or worse, can't. That's just not right. I'll take a binge on KFC in my jeans and Bears t-shirt on a Friday night with Sweetie Pie, easily.

That said, I will also pick apart a roasted beet soup with oregano, halibut and raspberry crème fraiche with the time and attention of a Michelin writer. I appreciate butter-poached anything. Mignardises of rum candies or peach pate de fruit, bring it on. The appreciation of French prep does not equal a snobby palette. Not always. When tempered with the right Happy Meal, anyway.

****
As an aside, this is a really interesting article about the legitimacy and interpretation of the use of jiggers in bartending (on which side I am pro-jigger). Have a read.

It's Fall In Your Oven

2010-10-02T14:38:00.000-05:00

I feel as though I've outed myself here before, but I'll say it again:

Hello, my name is Penny and I used to be a vegetarian.

(Hi Penny)

It was the early 2000s, I didn't know any better ok? Yeesh. I was kinda sorta dating a guy at the time whose mom was a whiz with the vegetarian foods since he had been a vegetarian far longer than I and she was used to whipping up alternative foods for him. One thing has remained: Trish's Autumn Roast Vegetables* (New And Improved, With Meat! -ed.)

Get to a farmer's market and pick up the fresh stuff if you can, and don't skimp on the garlic! Here you go, enjoy.

This isn't an exact science, but here are the basics:

Figure enough for a 9x9 or 9x13 Pyrex, cast iron or ceramic baker (try to avoid metal unless it's insulated). Double everything for the larger pan.
Grease pan, preheat oven to 400 deg.

Use whatever firm winter veg you like, but I use these:

Potatoes (figure two medium-sized ones for a 9x9 pan)
Sweet Potatoes (same)
Turnips (two or three, shaved with a peeler)
Whole garlic cloves, as many as you like. I use a whole head. Love 'em.
Brussels sprouts (ends trimmed, halved, loose outer leaves removed)
Sausage (I'm partial to Polish or smoked, Ekrich Farms from the grocery store does fine)

Cut veggies into 1"x 1"-ish cubes but for the garlic which you leave skin on and whole. In a large bowl, pour in enough olive oil to coat, then mix with salt, coarsely-ground pepper and about 1T of dry oregano (you want earthy herbs, no parsley or basil. Sage would be good too but all dry, no fresh). Pour into greased pan.

Add vegetable stock into the bottom of the pan but don't pour over the veggies. Stock should come up about 1/3 of the pan height. I use bouillon cubes but you can use whatever you like, it's mainly for moisture and some flavor. Chicken stock might be good, actually.

Cover with foil, set timer for 45 minutes. After 45, remove the foil and continue cooking for another 15. It might spatter but you want some of the steam to escape and the edges of things to crisp up a bit.

During the last 15 minutes, brown the sausage to serve with the veg. If you like, you can cook up some egg noodles to serve too, but that's a whole lotta starch. I could also recommend a crusty bread to spread the garlic cloves on, but honestly I like the cloves right out of the skins.

Reheats perfectly in the microwave.

Hellloooo fall!

*It's entirely possible I've already posted this same recipe but I'm too lazy to go back through and find it so there you have it. It's still good.

Where Are You Eating?

2010-09-30T13:28:00.001-05:00

Last night as service dwindled and I sat in the office eating my dinner of our fantastic endive salad, conversation turned to scheduling and which chefs would be on site and when. Our sous mentioned an upcoming trip to New York City and the conversation went something like this:

Sous: "Well, I won't be here next week"
Co-worker: "Oh yeah? Where you goin?"

Sous: "New York City!" [said in the voice of the Pace picanté commercial]

Co-worker: "Nice. Where are you eating?"

Me: smirk/mental note

Only in a very few work environments would that question be 100% appropriate and normal. Ours is one of these. With no hesitation, our sous said he wasn't sure but listed a few places here and there that he knew he would have friends and hook ups. Beyond that though, lies a Wish List. Every food lover has one of these, and I have the privilidge of working in a restaurant that is on several peoples'. The best part of that, by the way, is watching people take the first bite. Their eyes light up, they smile, they nod in approval at the dish or at their dining companion and then the plates (or bowls) switch so the other(s) can enjoy it too. It's the most lovely silent reward that most front-of-house and certainly almost all kitchen staff never get to see. I have the best vantage point in the room, I think to myself. In fact, I shared that particular reaction with our Wizard-of-Soup cook last week and he said it carried him for the rest of the day.

My list, modest as it may be because I just don't travel as much as I would like, is more about location and total experience than simply what's on my plate (as most food moments should be, arguably). Per Se in New York, French Laundry in Napa, Alinea if only to verify that it's a fun and not stiff experience, el Bulli (the dream, soon RIP), Craft, Aquavit and just about any quiet little French place someone recommends. And that's just stateside.

Ultimately, my version of food heaven is a sunny/shady sidewalk cafe in Venice with crusty bread, local red wine, the whir of two stroke motors and languages I don't understand. That's not about the food, is it? Cocktails before dinner in DC at Palena. San Sebastian and its wandering tapas - but again, it's the wandering part I'm intrigued by.

So you go to some random city. You ask the locals what's good. You do a little research. You get the local flavors, ingredients, influences, scenes, chefs, natives and you form your opinions. You dream about it. The experience creeps in on a random Monday night four months later and you smile. Not what, but where.

Where are you eating?

The Making of a CelebriChef

2010-07-30T10:30:00.000-05:00

Where does it start? Good looks? A James Beard nomination or award? Some local and then national press? A unique appearance? Gimmick? Celebrity followers? TV shows? Cookbooks?

Oh wait, how about the food? Is your food any good? Yeah, so there's that one minor factor.

Here in Chicago we are witnessing one particular chef by the name of Graham Elliot Bowles emerge from the slow ooze of the press - or formerly Bowles, anyway. He put a press release out a few days ago saying he's dropping the "Bowels" from his name. His restaurant is simply called Graham Elliot so I suppose it makes sense since most people call him that anyway, but a press release?

I was just chatting with my chef at work here and asked him if he thought it was a fame grab or a vehicle to get the word out about his food and chef's quiet response was, "fame". We talked about how the food had always been the thing everyone spoke of, this boy genius that James Beard's foundation took a shine to years ago. It was the food that got him his gig feeding bands at Lollapalooza, a gig which is going into its second season wherein he comes prepared with an army of notable Chicago restaurants. GEB has arguably helped put Chicago on the food map, it's true.

Lately however, it's his mouth which has been getting the press. He got into it famously with Chicago Magazine last week when they showed up (invited, mind you) to a preview party for the Lolla food offerings. One writer dared to actually critique the food rather than just write about...oh, I don't know, what the attendees were wearing, and GEB took her to task for doing so. I've read about six blog entries about it, whether he was right or wrong and you know, I see all points but more than that it seems to fall under an umbrella of press. Press, press, press. No such thing as bad press.

But what about the food? I keep asking myself. What are you here for? He's in his 30s, he's not some hot shot 25 year old Rocco DiSpirito whose fall from grace was loud and clunky and landed in a well-coiffed splat smack dab in the middle of Manhattan. Rocco had his looks and charm - two things that some felt he fell back on more than what was in his pots and pans. GEB doesn't have either frankly, but he did (does) have the food. So why aren't we talking about it? Why are we talking about name changes, new glasses frames, tattoos, guitars, Kings of Leon, Lollapalooza and not the Pop Rock-crusted foie gras lollipops that brought people to him a year ago?

He's an American, an entrepreneur and he knows how to generate business for himself. I dare say that his reservation book is probably overflowing more now than it was three months ago. Good. It's his chosen profession, after all. I am sure his food is holding up just fine. When I asked my chef if his food is suffering for the fame, Chef said, "I know who makes his food, and those people are good at what they do", which is not to say that GEB himself is not. What he's saying is that GEB's mad grab for fame could be, in the long run, hurting his staff. The more fame he takes on and exploits, the more likely the shining star members of his kitchen staff will be dimmed by it. Once a chef hits such a loud and proud status, it's almost impossible to emerge out from behind him without leaving the head chef's kitchen entirely (exhibit a: Grant Achatz's employment history with Thomas Keller).

At the end of the day, it's the food that should be putting butts in seats but I'm sorry to say that that isn't always the case (exhibit b: Rocco DiSpirito) and when it isn't, it ends badly. Beware the Ides of March, Chef Bowles. It's the people who are filling your reservation books because of your saucy Twitter posts who are also the ones that will throw you to the wolves when you let them down later on.

I'm Sorry, We Don't Have High Chairs

2010-05-16T11:24:00.004-05:00

CNN ran a piece recently about children in fine dining, specifically in New York. It's a fairly well-written piece, but doesn't reflect the anti side of the matter (and I'm sure there are plenty of chefs and owners lined up to give their thoughts there).

I think it's fair to say that most are of two minds on the subject of children in fine-dining restaurants. The thoughts range from, "they better behave" to, "it's great that parents are teaching their kids to eat more adventurously than pb&j" to, "you're spending how much on those underdeveloped taste buds?" to the flat out, "oh no".

All, I might add, legitimate. We don't actually have high chairs, that's not an elitist lie. We don't have them because of cost, the size and shape of our restaurant (we have all of two tables out of 23 that will accommodate an end-capping chair - and we don't even allow VIPs to do that), infrequency of child guests and well... here's where I'm not going to BS you, it's not a child-friendly restaurant. The food is advanced, at least at dinnertime, requires (for maximum enjoyment) that each element be eaten together on the fork which means a certain amount of manual dexterity, and - from a certain chef's perspective - an advanced or at the very least appreciative palette.

Now please do not misunderstand me. When I see well-behaved children in the restaurant my heart sings. I've seen high school culinary groups order foie gras and love it. I've seen a 10 year-old girl devour sweetbreads. I've seen a blond, curly-haired angel of a boy gumming artisan bread. Something about that is wonderful. Teaching kids early on what good food is, that it's a luxury not all can enjoy or have access to, and in addition to training their tongues is training them about a different social environment.

Teaching a child to look a server in the eye and clearly state their desires with a "please" and a "thank you" while recognizing that their job demands respect despite being there to serve, gives me hope for the future generations. I would love to see a quick public service class taught to everyone (not just kids) on how to behave in restaurants that are four and five star establishments. The fact is, at my place anyway, most of the kids that come to eat there are privileged. They are used to sitting up straight and not making a fuss. They're easy. Toddlers on the other hand, toddlers I think I can say, don't belong there. It is not the sort of place they can go anywhere but their parents' laps or the chair they're in. It happens, it usually happens at lunch or early in the night and the parents are keen to eat quickly. I have yet to see one of them spaz out. I think the parents know exactly where they are and the risks they're running.

I've seen parents who are presumably too scared to leave their newborn with a sitter (or who couldn't get a sitter as easily as they could get a reservation) walk in with a baby in a carrier without informing us prior, proceed to put the carrier under the table as they dined with the baby sleeping almost through the entire meal. At dinnertime. At tables which are at most, five inches apart from one another. Now that was a risk.

So what all it comes down to, at least for us, is this: no strollers in the dining room. Ever. If you must have a high chair, we will borrow one from next door. If your kids will eat what's on their plates, you are always welcome. If your kids are into food in a major way, they may even get a kitchen tour. We aren't anti-kid. We just want you to know what you're getting into, especially when the bill comes.

Fine dining is not a place for elbows on the table, yelling, backwards baseball hats, cell phones held up to noses rather than talking to companions, walking around or high fives - and you know what? The only people I've ever seen do that in my restaurant, are the adults.

Waiting for the Garden to Grow

2010-05-10T13:37:00.000-05:00

I just can't be burned by a crappy crop of tomatoes again this year. You'll note, if you read this thing and you give a poop, that the last few years of documented gardening were not always um... "successful". Herbs, yes. Cannot go wrong with basil, you get back so much more than you put in. Tomatoes and peppers however are extraordinarily temperamental in containers. At least for me (and I consider myself to have quite a green thumb).

So this year, I decided to go mainly with herbs and flowers which include: chrysanthemums, poppies, marigolds, petunias, parsley and basil. Sadly, my rosemary and alyssum did not sprout. I suspected that would happen with the rosemary as I hear nothing but what a pain it is to start from seed unless you toss it off the side of your home and completely ignore it (in which case you'll have a bed of healthy rosemary in no time. Hmm...), but the alyssum fail surprised me, I will admit. I may still try for that. It's entirely possible I got a bad batch of seeds like last year.

Nonetheless, the basil is going APE. It's still in seedling form so transplanting and thinning have to happen soon, but once it gets going it's unstoppable. Tonight I found myself pining for it to be basil time already. I had a tomato, some peas (steamed and cooled) and a rumbling stomach. I threw some olive oil in there, salt, pepper and sadly, dried basil. It needed cheese. Burrata or something soft and gooey - I find standard balled mozzarella just a little too tough, though a beautiful Chèvre might have really been right on the money.

PS, this bowl is the best bowl on the planet. Crate & Barrel, like $5 or something - in the stores, they sell individually but online they come in sets. They hold everything beautifully from pasta to ice cream. It's my favorite, as predicted it would become so by the clerk who rang me up.

Korean Food: Not Just for Koreans Anymore.

2010-04-27T10:50:00.000-05:00

The last time I had Korean food, it was January of 2001 in New York City. We didn't have the BBQ, just those tons of small plates. I don't remember specifics, I just remember wanting to go back. So here we are, nine years later and on Thursday I'm going for it. I was warned that at this particular place, they don't take kindly to round eyes so we're bringing an authentic Korean with us to run interference in addition to a darling friend who simply loves it, and her significant other. I'm very excited, and I'm taking you all along for the ride. Stay tuned!

Bought, Rubbed, Roasted, Consumed

2010-04-20T20:46:00.002-05:00

My first pork tenderloin. It's true, I know. Shame on me, they're so easy and all... but the thing is, believe it or not, pork was sort of ruined for me growing up. Mom, my mom, the best cook I knew until I was in my 20s, killed it with the pork. Pork chops a la Cambell's Cream of Mushroom rice casserole. I swear, I thought that's what pork was (except for bacon, of course). Dry, tough, tasteless. No matter what you did to it. So why bother?

In the last few years I've discovered the joy of the pork tenderloin though always prepared by other people. Yes, it can still be a little tough and a little dry, but nothing like the shoe sole I grew up with (sorry, mom).

So tonight I popped by my Aldi and picked up a pork tenderloin for a mere $2.81. "Discount Pork" - almost as scary as "Discount Sushi". But it was vacuum-sealed and while I no longer trust Aldi for bacon-wrapped filet, I'm giving the tenderloin a shot. Luckily, my dear friend Grace gave me some of her special spice rub as a present the last time I saw her, and tonight it's getting the test run.

Here's the thing about Aldi and the single girl: Aldi doesn't make food for the single girl. If I buy a tenderloin, it will feed two or three single girls. If I buy eggs, they will feed a family over a weekend. If I buy potatoes then well, I better really like potatoes. So in a pinch, when a potato is a necessary item in this particular meal, I reach for something that causes my Irish roommate to gnash teeth and wring hands: potato flakes.

Yes, yes, it's true. Potato flakes last longer than any bag of potatoes ever could and with proper doctoring, they are almost completely passable. Seriously. You throw enough salt, pepper, cheese, butter and sour cream into reconstituted potato flakes and bingo bango bongo you got yourself some dang fine taters! Trust me. Ok ok fine I know that you don't but whatever, I'm not buying 10 pounds of potatoes. Even if she is Irish.

Back to the pork. "160 degrees!", my digital probe thermometer sings (ok, it's actually an irritating beep, not a pleasant tune), and she's ready to rest. I'm a little compulsive about temperature-taking so I've measured more than once and sure enough, we're good to go. I'm not really one of those people who likes her pork a little pink. Rested, ready.

RESULT! Oh boy oh boy oh boy! That was GOOD! Tender! Juicy! Spicy! Oh my goodness, pork tenderloin where have you been all my life?!

I would just like to take this opportunity to thank Aldi, Grace, the people behind instant potatoes. Oh and God, for the pig.

Just look at this fine piece of porcine!

PS, if you don't own a Silpat, go out and get one. All the recipes and instructions I found said to use foil and that would have been a mess. The Silpat released the meat immediately and cleaning up was a breeze.

Stupid Twitter

2010-04-13T10:50:00.000-05:00

When everyone started getting cell phones, I vowed to be the last one on the block. I didn't want that much accessibility, accountability or responsibility. I didn't want to be found by anyone, if I didn't want to be. It seemed people were tethered to those things and I found it boring. Now, the buzz kill of being in conversation with someone only to have them whip their cell phone out and start texting or checking emails while uttering a mildly engaged, "uh huh" to whatever I'm saying has become commonplace. I do it too (sorry about that). It's the new social norm, even if it causes a person to bristle. Cell phones on tables during dinner, cell phones in movies, cell phones during important conversations (while not having one on the actual cell phone), texting rather than talking... I'm still not a fan of them on some level. They are, as I often say, the worst things to happen to romantic relationships since the answering machine. But they're here to stay, at least until Apple figures out a way to implant a chip in our brains. iPhones for all! Huzzah!

Much like those god forsaken cell phones, is Twitter. I fought it. I really did, I swear. I lurked, every now and again I'd post something, treating it like another Facebook. But the other day, it clicked. I realized why people use it and what it's for. The best way I can describe it, is that rather than sign up for a daily or weekly email from your chosen interest you can get them on the Twitter and then be privy to inside info the masses may not be. And the beauty of it, is that you never have to post a single thing. You can follow them, but they don't have to follow you. It's nice that it can be so anonymous, especially when you find yourself following someone who turns out to be tedious, overly-abundant with the details or posts 15 times an hour (I would love to name a famous recently de-followed chef right now, but I will refrain).

So rather than use it for what a lot of people do, a glorified Facebook, I follow chefs and restaurants. Sure, I also follow certain bands, Tony Hawk, the Onion and Roger Ebert, but mainly I follow the food folks. It may sound nutty to you, but seeing what AdHoc puts on the menu daily feels great (and provides inspiration for future meals).

It also keeps a fairly close Chicago food circle even closer. Mutual congrats go out, shared laughs from food bloggers and magazines are bounced back and forth, awards, openings and closings, breaking news, stuff like that hits Twitter before it hits a lot of places. I don't need to be on the forefront, but it's kinda nice to be. It also feels much more contained and controlled than Facebook, especially when you have it on lockdown as I do.

So there you have it, I outed myself. A week ago or so I'd have probably straight lied to you and told you I barely use it. But that's not true now. Hello, my name is Penny and I am a Twit.

(Hi, Penny)

Ok, This is Actually Kinda Funny

2010-04-03T13:39:00.001-05:00

I am proud to say that I don't think any of these words can be found in my bit of writing here, nor in my Yelp reviews. I find the word "unctuous" is particularly irritating.

Grub Street is a great collection of musings, thoughts, reviews, whatever you want to say, and I find it interesting that they write with a certain disdain about, well, people who write about food. The restaurant group - I guess we're a group now, there's more than two owned by the same group of folks - that I work for tends to be a bit of a darling around town so we pop up from time to time and it's nice to see they have decent things to say.

Lastly today, some opinions from a staff writer at Salon regarding the total collapse of the "chef" part of "celebrity chef". I gotta say, my chef is a little recognizable but if you think you're going to see him on TV or in the VIP section of a club somewhere you are sorely mistaken. You want to find him? Look in one of three possible kitchens, that's where he'll be. But I mean, to be fair, restaurant people are a hilarious bunch to be around. I don't even think you have to have worked in a restaurant to appreciate the humor but it certainly helps. It will always be a place for a certain type of person, we're born and not made, is something that I have come to firmly believe.

Completely unrelated: I enjoy saying "haricot vert" and am considering it as a pen name some day. Harry Covair. So clever. I know.

A Loaded Topic: Bacon

2010-03-06T11:45:00.000-06:00

Here in my beloved city of Chicago, someone decided to put together a bacon-centric party called Baconfest. Sounds like paradise to you? Porky heaven, perhaps? A porcine utopia? Sure. In theory.

I have it on good inside report that it hasn't been the smoothest plan of events to the point that some important advisers and chefs had dropped out early on, and the date had been pushed back until things got in order. That's not to say they didn't pull it together, it's clearly happening as all 500 tickets sold out in ten minutes. While it's a lovely dream to bring the public together in the name of Bacon, something about it ranks up there with... hmm... say... the Star Wars Christmas Special.

Know what I mean? Capitalizing on a trend, the cheapening of something that in its pure state, is not even trying for so much attention. I realize Bacon is not a person in need of my defense, it's more that the sycophantic whoreness of the media rubs me the wrong way.

Why can't something just be delicious without it being pimped? I can't think of a single other food item that people have done this to in recent memory. Sure, there's your foie gras, your foams and your molecular gastronomy...trends. Trendy. Comes and goes. Bacon? Bacon has been around since Adam cut open his first pig and accidentally left it too close to the smoldering fire overnight.

Yes, it's friggin delicious. Yes, it's like, the perfect condiment, main, side, snack, accent, dessert, whatever. I get it. We all get it. So what is the fuss, here? Is that the fuss? Or is it that it's somehow forbidden? New studies have come out regarding saturated fats not being quite as villainous as previously thought, so a little bit of its risky rep has been taken away but that news barely made a dent in the American media. I imagined the Bacon lobbyists scrambling over to corner and begging the public to pay no mind to the pesky AMA mouthpiece behind the curtain. The longer Bacon retains its bad boy status, the sexier it is and then more obnoxious parties can be planned in its name.

Am I taking all this a little too personally, too seriously? Is it a sign of psychosis to have such extreme loyalty to an inanimate object? Perhaps. I'm trying to think of an analogy to articulate my feelings but I'm having a hard time. I mean, to give you some personal insight I've always sort of rejected the popular vote (mainly because of my feeling about Group Mind, another topic for another day) but also because the popular vote tends to just basically suck. I mean - look at the majority of movies being made today or shows on TV. How wise is this Public we're talking about? Not very. Not to compare Bacon celebrators to the core audience of Two And A Half Men or anything, that would just be cruel.

So to answer some of your questions, no. I won't be there. I could be, I have ins, but I won't be. I will be home, quietly and happily preparing a pan of peppered thick-cut all on my own thanks.

The Five Senses of Heaven

2010-02-06T17:58:00.002-06:00

Sitting in my beloved next door neighbor and little sister restaurant with my equally beloved co-worker, I am reminded of our tendency to emote... glorify... bemuse... I can't place the word... note at any rate, inspirational sounds that signify the existence of a fabulous evening surrounded by food, drink, and loved ones.

It is a list that has to be, by nature, ever-changing and somewhat elusive. There is simply no way to define life's visceral pleasures from decade to decade in a fixed list. When I was seven years old, the most blissful sound was the plastic clack of my Transformers changing shape for the first time. Or the "beeeewwwwkchsssshhhh" of a Missile Command strike. At 13, it was the sound of Mike H.'s voice when he entered the room for Sunday night's Youth Group meeting. At 22, the quick scratch of pencil on paper signing my first apartment lease did the trick.

But now I'm an adult (which by the way, I can officially say. When I was in my 20s I fought against that word by a series of "yeah but" justifications to keep my youthful, irresponsible status) and I have in the grand scheme of an 85 year-old life, knock wood, discovered new sounds. As an adult, those sounds change. They progress. They consist of things that a 13 year-old has never heard. The sound of the phone call to set up an interview. The sight of infatuation. The first taste of curry. The first touch of cashmere. The instigating moment a song that turns you onto a new genre and ideology. These are formative sense memories. I can pinpoint a person, place, age and month to almost every one of the aforementioned. They exist in the quilt of my being. Cut me open, my rings have patterns (and sound waves and recipes).

Today, at my *gulp* 34 years, my formative sounds, sights, smells, touches and tastes are these:

A champagne cork popping (the muffled pop of a refill, not a fresh bottle), the smell of pork simmering on the stove, the touch of his hand gripping mine as we walk down a buzzing city street in the snow, the taste of perfectly prepared sweetbreads and the sight of laughing friends I've known since I was 16, gathered around a table reliving old times.

Which if you'll excuse me, is the sound of my Saturday night. Have a lovely weekend, friend.

Meringues, You Suck

2010-01-04T22:18:00.001-06:00

Or maybe it is I who suck. Jury's still out.

I was the fortunate recipient of a new hand mixer this Christmas and tonight I decided to make meringues for the first time. Basic, vanilla, maybe a little cocoa. Nothing fancy, it was my maiden voyage after all.

Let me just say that I, as a city dweller, do not own a car. I have three grocery stores near me, two in walking distance for the hearty and one that I only walk to when it's nice out. And it's not nice out. It's 9 degrees as I type this and it wasn't much warmer four hours ago when I set out for my ingredients. The store closest to me has everything I need, but at a steep price. I'm not too proud so I shop at Aldi when I can. Tonight was an Aldi night. I had everything but one item: a small jar of Cream of Tartar. Because frankly, if Aldi did carry it, it would come in a gallon drum and there isn't enough gingerbread house frosting in the world to require that. So what does a person do? Walk to the other store when she can't feel her toes?

Second best, google "do I need cream of tartar to make meringues?" and badaboom - the answer is "no", so says Swami Google.

Not entirely true, Swami. I beat my whites and just as they were about to get to a stiff peak stage, added the recommended vinegar only to have them stall and collapse on the spot. By this point I'd already added the cocoa and in a daring move, cinnamon. There was no going back. I prepped the Silpat, preheated the oven, then dropped the sad (yet still tasty) medium-peaked blobs on and in they went.

Per the recipe, they are to sit in a 350 degree oven until it cools on its own, or overnight. So there they sit. I don't know what went wrong. It's entirely possible I used too much vinegar and effectively killed the whites (they hate moisture, which you may or may not know). In hindsight, I should simply have omitted it and gone with my gut instinct - that I didn't need it. Stabilizer... what happens without it? They explode upon biting? So note to self and the two of you who may actually read this thing: cream of tartar or omit entirely. Screw the vinegar suggestion.

In my hunt for answers, I also found this neat little tip sheet. Just in case you decide to try to make meringues yourself.

Sometimes I'm Eight Again

2009-12-15T22:36:00.007-06:00

Just sometimes... walking down the street and noticing a beautiful sky, riding the commuter train to my childhood home and hearing the station names called out just as they were when I would ride to work with my dad, listening my niece get upset over kids in her class copying her for this or that, and tonight it's listening to the Muppets "A Christmas Together" with John Denver. If I had to collect five items from my childhood to carry with me through life, one item would be that album.

I decided to tackle Christmas cookies tonight. I don't bake, let's just say that right now. I will screw baking up like no one you've ever seen, as I'm sure I've mentioned previously. Except at Christmas. At Christmas, I must bake. Not bread, not crust. Cookies. My grandmother's cookie recipe, specifically. I've never tasted another cookie like them. The lemon juice adds a nice little zip, but not one that would make anyone call them lemon cookies. They're nothing fancy or impressive, but they taste like my childhood and with the exclusion of Red Hots and silver dragees, I use the same decorations that she set out for us on Cookie Day. I even inherited her cutting board for rolling the dough along with some of her cookie cutters.

Dipping the cutters in flour and stamping them into the soft, white dough I am eight again. I put on Gene Autry and Jim Reeves and think about Gigi (a nickname gained later in life from her great grandchildren. When I was little, she was Grandma HH) and how she passed away just when I was beginning to really appreciate and enjoy her as an adult.

So here it is, Penny's Grandma's Christmas Cookie Recipe. Plain and simple. The way it should be.

1c margarine (I find using margarine results in a puffier cookie and you want that)
2/3 c sugar
1/2 c light corn syrup
1 T lemon juice (the real stuff - also important)
3 1/2 c flour
1/4 t salt

In a large bowl, cream margarine and sugar together until smooth and fluffy (I have done it by hand rather than with a mixer, it goes fairly smoothly either way). Add corn syrup and lemon, mix until integrated. Add flour and salt. Beat well until mixed.

Divide dough into thirds, wrap in cling film. Refrigerate at least one hour.

Preheat oven to 350. Roll each third one at a time to 1/4-1/8" thick. Cut with cookie cutters, decorate. Place on baking sheet* and bake for 3-5 minutes** Remove cookies from oven when they are just starting to brown around the edges. The center will still be pale.

Dividing the dough in thirds sounds like not much yield, but you will be surprised at how many cookies you actually get. Consider that you will gather all the scraps when you're done with the cutters and add it to the pile to be baked. You will actually wind up with enough leftover to form a fourth ball of dough and from that, a smaller fifth. Depending on how much you really want to get out of it, it is entirely possible that this recipe will yield roughly four dozen cookies.

*My grandma made these before the advent of AirBake pans so her single-ply pans meant a much shorter cook time. The time listed in the recipe is for a single-ply pan.

**I use AirBake pans and find that the cookies take much longer. At least 13 minutes total cooking time, and they never look fully cooked when I remove them but trust me, they are done at 13 minutes. They shouldn't be dark. The photo above shows the cookies removed from the oven after cooking for reference (note Santa and the angel's darkened corners).

The Return to Top Chef

2009-12-04T12:51:00.003-06:00

Previously, on Top Chef!

Padma and Nigella in bed. Wait, what?

Ok ok so I took a few months off. Well here I am on the couch basking in the glow of a 'Christmas Wreath' Yankee Candle and the Christmas lights hung around my front windows and Top Chef on the tube. It's time to revisit some reviews, I think. And what a perfect time! For it appears that tonight is the finale and I have stumbled into a marathon. I paused for Nigella, but I'm staying for the champ.

First impressions: all the tattoos are gone, I see. The brothers remain, so does the hardass chick chef, Redbeard, bacon buddy and the hippie. Hippie's days are clearly numbered, and my early call for the final three are the brothers and Redbeard. Hippie gets the boot, and now we cook for Thomas Keller, a feat which I would have had to change my drawers three times by the amuse.

On we go. Welcome back.

Last challenge in Vegas. Brother Mike is poor. Redbeard misses his wife. Bacon buddy (and his belly) are doin' it for Richard. Badass chef Jennifer has lost focus and has "hit the wall" as several judges have pointed out to this point.

Guest judge is James Beard award-winning Gavin Kaysen of Cafe Boloud. He won the "Olympics of Cooking" which could mean anything to anyone but from what I gather, it tests your knowledge, technique and overall skill. Quickfire Challenge therefore, is a version of his winning dish: a protein inside a protein inside a protein. A turducken, basically. Oh wow, Jennifer is in my head. That's what she's making she says. Though, the bacon explosion might be a good way to go too...

Merguez sausage wrapped around a loin of lamb, poultry turine, a Scotch egg with maple syrup, cornmeal fried catfish, Jennifer decided to switch to a fish thing but she's cracking under the pressure.

Padma says, "welcome back" to Jennifer after tasting her dish, which was a nice wink to her frightened talents. Gavin likes the Scotch egg, Jennifer's dish, Brother Mike's terrine may not count the towards the challenge proper which Brother Mike disputes. Ultimately, he picks Jennifer's fish dish and with that pat on the back, she's near the top again.

Elimination Challenge: Create a presentation with one protein and two garnishes. Garnishes have to show technique and method - he gives filled woven zucchini strips as an example. So basically, putzy sides. I predict throwaway proteins and crazy sides. Everyone gets four hours, but Jennifer gets four hours and thirty minutes per her award. The clincher: twelve judges including Thomas freaking Keller. Lord help us all. What I love about Chef Keller is his quiet stillness, which in a chef is rare and probably really terrifying when you're on the disappointed end of it. Commence: boot shaking!

Everyone stays awake planning and cramming, Brother Mike goes to bed (in his whites). The DVD they're watching of the competition is a cross between Iron Chef, the World Cup and WWF. But with food. Redbeard asks about cooking sous vide. For the first time - eek. Brother... the other Brother, offers up his knowledge to Redbeard while getting a dig in on Brother Mike. Nice.

Tom introduces Keller, who is apparently a lot taller than I thought (and who has big ears, aww). He gives some words of encouragement and a cool but calm toothless smile. The chefs scatter to their corners and go to work. Bryan. Bryan is the other Brother. He's doing lamb. Redbeard is doing a sous vide lamb. Brother Mike gets a dig in about Redbeard's simple food (which Keller would slap him on the back of the head for). Brother Bryan is doing a shank braise with a partially crusted lamb loin, sous vide as well. Brother Mike is doing a salmon which sounds sort of boring. Jennifer is working on also doing salmon but with caviar and is cooking it unilaterally (cooked on bottom, uncooked on top). Bacon buddy is doing a lamb loin sausage.

Tom ads another kink - the winner gets THIRTY GRAND if they win. You jerks, I can barely keep my phone on. Whatever.

The judges assemble and have a seat. Many VIPs. Much fear.

Redbeard boldly decides to not get fancy per the regulations, but wants to dazzle with flavors instead. His dish is quite simple and rustic looking, but sounds delicious. Quiet "mmm"s is a good thing. Keller says it's elementary and that he might have undercut himself and his skills, but it seems to taste good.

Brother Mike's Mediterranean salmon platter looks impressive and simple but is composed of many elements. Which they don't like. Bone in the fish. Lack of harmony. Unseasoned. Umm...next.

Brother Bryan is in the weeds. Freaking out a little bit, actually. The platter isn't how he wants it. Crusted loin of lamb. Keller likes his "interesting" garlic chip. Eep! They comment on the lovely layout but undercooked the lamb. They like him as a person though, they think he's polished and comfortable.

Bacon Buddy's lamb sausage sounds very complicated to me. He's also shaky and nervous. The cut is bad and the lamb is undercooked. Keller makes the comment that the lamb piece itself is lovely but he effed it up. Not impressed.

Jennifer's confidence is shaky. Lightly poached salmon. She's calm, kinda. They think the flavors are decent but not very interesting. The dish is "all over the place", the salmon pieces aren't cooked consistently from dish to dish. Some say interesting looking but with a dead end vision.

Just to be a catty b for a moment, Gayle's stylist this season should be drug out into the street and beaten with the overdone outfits they've put her in. I thought she was pregnant when I saw her in that ruffled green number a few episodes ago. Tonight her ample bosom is flopping around a plunging black neckline so she either needs to sit up straight like a lady, or put those girls away so Tom doesn't give himself an aneurysm from trying not to stare. Ok. Sorry. Kinda.

Anyway, the chefs all raise a glass to the cheftestants, who understandably were shaken and stirred during this challenge. Which is nice. They come out to applause and Padma's overdubbed congrats. Keller delivers the prize for the challenge (aside from the THIRTY GRAND), which is to compete in the 2010 challenge of which they've just copied.

Judging: Padma fetches everyone from the Glad storeroom to face the firing squad. Keller is not amongst the judges. Gayle, Padma, Tom and the son of the guy who started the WWF/Iron Chef/World Cup contest.

Brother Mike's vision was blurry and his fish had the forgotten bone. Brother Bryan's dish would have been better with more time, Redbeard's simple dish was a bit of a letdown technically, Jennifer's salmon's inconsistent cooking proved troubling and that is the chief complaint, Bacon Buddy's sausage had too much fat and was too undercooked. So really, the only good statement was that Brother Bryan needed more time... no real compliments and certainly no clear winner. Redbeard got the bad end of it ultimately. But he has so much talent and heart, I don't want to see him go. I'd say Jennifer, quite honestly. She's been inconsistent lately. Bacon Buddy was out of his league but that may not be cut-worthy since he most likely won't be opening the next Per Se.

Decision made and then we're down to the final four... The winner is... Redbeard.

...wow...

...Really? Wow. Not that I'd have chucked him or anything but they made it sound like he brought a finger painting to the Louvre. Well this ought to be good.

Brother Mike is getting the boot it appears. Everyone else got compliments from Tom. Oof nope, it's Bacon Buddy. Yeah. I guess I can see that, he cooks at a different level, though it's sort of Redbeard's level though maybe without the same amount of love and heart. He's sad. Tears. Aww. Brothers, Redbeard and Jennifer are heading to the final in Napa.

See you there, y'all!

2009-11-08T10:02:00.003-06:00

Greetings and salutations, apologies for the infrequency of posts. Truly, there hasn't been much of note going on that would be worth mentioning or reporting so I've spared you the details of a mundane life.

My short tenure at a restaurant near my current restaurant which is owned by a nice but rather easily-impressed gentleman who fawned over anyone with a title or a fat wallet recently ended. The owner's reach exceeds his grasp unfortunately, and I suspect they have already hit the restaurant's half-life. Recently appearing on Check Please!, a restaurant review show based in Chicago, they seem to have forgotten that the kitchen facilities are not large enough to support a huge influx of business without hugely increased wait times for meals (which begins the ripple effect of stressed servers, angry cooks and apologetic management, which then begets poor word of mouth, whispers of ineptitude and then potential total failure). The prestige of having been on the show and the make-or-break aura surrounding it was too much for him to pass up, I suspect at the reticence of his chef, and so he signed on. It doubled the lunch business and also increased dinner, but at what cost, I wonder. Fortunately for me, I got out in time to avoid finding out.

It was a case of yet another middle management throwing someone under the bus to keep the oblivious owner happy. While enjoying my view of the crankshaft, I decided to explore greener pastures if they didn't do it for me. They did, and I'm much better for it. I do think they dig their own graves in the forms of recipe/ingredient/influence thievery, greed for an audience who won't stay with them over the years and who will take their money elsewhere when the next interesting thing comes along, and managers who have no balls. I'm happy to be off that listing ship.

But, happily, I still have my other fantastic home to go to. I just hit my year mark and am happier than ever. I've said it before and I'll keep saying it - I'd do it for free. I love it, even when I have my "I hate people" moments. The sycophants, the chef-o-philes, the celebrity hounds, the tourists with cameras, the occasional mouth-breather... everyone goes through this. But when it's time for them to leave and I hand off their coats, I ask them how it was and listen genuinely because I want to know. And in the asking, have received some of the most lovely compliments about our little operation that a person could hear. Most recently I was told (by the girlfriend of someone in the industry, who no doubt sees and hears it all), that what she loves about us is that she can't tell the difference between management, host, server and bartender because we all operate the same way.

It sounds simple I know, but think about the last time you really looked at a room. The hosts are almost always the sore thumbs of the bunch. The bartenders are disaffected separatists. The managers are running around crazy and afraid. The servers, focused and serious or light and smiling. They are obviously operating at different levels. But not us, apparently. We do it right. And this makes me so proud because it shows a respect amongst all ranks. Hosts are almost always the lowest of the low (and I'll here refrain from reminding everyone of what it is that we do exactly, and why we're as important as everyone else) so it's nice to be recognized as part of the team.

Last week I was given my schedule and found that I am working today, a Sunday. We're closed on Sundays so of course, something was up. Turns out, it's a fancy-pants benefit buyout. Management hand-picked the staff they thought would fit best for the task, and I was so flattered to be on the list. Thing is, as nice as that is, it's not why I'm happy to be working.

My particular brand of celebrity, the hot ear-inducing, fidget-inspiring lot, are chefs. Not even celebrity chefs, but folks that know exactly what to do with food to turn people (read: me) on. There will be six in attendance today including our own, and I am most excited by Michael Symon of Lola and Lolita in Cleveland. We have people in common, but he also appears so very down to earth and cool that I don't know... is it nerdy... I just kinda wanna be around them and hope they say hello to the lowly front of house staff.

This is the guest chef breakdown:

Guest Chefs Chris Bianco of Pizzeria Bianco, Pane Bianco and Bar Bianco in Phoenix; Paul Kahan of Blackbird, Avec and the Publican in Chicago; Suzanne Goin of Lucques and AOC in Los Angeles; Iron Chef Michael Symon of Lola, Lolita and Bar Symon in Cleveland and Roast in Detroit; Marc Vetri of Vetri and Osteria in Philadelphia and Paul Virant of Vie in Western Springs, IL.

Geronimo!

2009-09-22T19:53:00.002-05:00

All hands off deck, I'm abandoning the Top Chef ship. Frankly you guys, I just do not give a crap about that show this season. I'm watching it in fast forward. So that means that unless something intriguing, interesting, ground breaking, hilarious or pertinent to yours truly happens, I'll be bystanding just like you all.

Sorry, all. I hope this doesn't ruin your weekly plans. You'll live, champ. Chin up. Onward and upward. Carry on. It's ok. -pat pat pat- there, there.

Top Chef Vegas, Baby no.1

2009-09-13T12:57:00.004-05:00

Yes, every time I say it, I'll add the (baby). Deal.

Sin City indeed! James Beard nominee! Executive chefs! Eric Ripert! Cancer! Homos! Brothers! Wofie! Arrogance! F-bombs! Yep... tis that time of year, time for the Top Chef program!

Off we go. They arrive at their swank digs complete with pool and waterslide, big kitchen, communal table, smoking patio (let's be honest), Mattin the Frenchie who's actually wearing one of those Fred from Scooby Doo kerchiefs around his neck, a "fat kid" wearing a bacon shirt (man after my own heart), Jessie makes a comment about unpacking and then getting the boot (foreshadow anyone?)... dude. As an aside. What is UP with these chicks with massive amounts of tattoos? I have several, I make no judgments, but there are more this year than years prior I've noticed. Anyway. Tough broad who worked under Ripert, NYC chef who may be the token homo boy, Michael and Brian who are brothers, two guys who already know each other apart from them. Plus a few folks I missed. Got all that?

Top Chef kitchen: Padma, Tom. Challenge one is a mise en place relay race. Brilliant! Oh boy, speaking of brilliant - showgirls! The gold chip is drawn by Robin who gets immunity and she can abstain from the challenge.

Clean lobsters, shuck clams, peel prawns, butcher two chops from ribs. Tom ok's tasks, team wins. Uh oh, a team member asks if a clam is like an oyster. I don't know the answer to that but I'm guessing it's a big fat no. Hmm, some dude just made a comment about how "some girl" shouldn't be a better clam shucker than him. Great. Frenchie's team is kicking arse. Team oyster is still struggling with leg one of the challenge. Arrogant Bastard's team takes second. I don't know anything about the third.

Quickfire reward includes $15K this season, fyi. The challenge is that each chef make something using their ingredient from the relay. Favorite: Jenn (Ripert) with a prawn ceveche, least favorites are glossed over.

Hold it. That was not a challenge of mise prep, that was a sous chef challenge! I call foul!

The Big Show: Choose a personal vice and base a dish around it, cook for Wolfgang Puck, $1000 budget at Whole Paycheck, ready go.

Whoa I just heard "Maker's Mark Manhattan sweet potato..." something. Hi, you win.

There are some pretty dishes coming out of this kitchen, I must say. The cynic takes a back seat for once. For now. One of them did a halibut steak to look like a bar of soap once put in his mouth, clever. Lots of smoking and booze as vices, which, if you know chefs, is no shock right?

(The music this season sounds exactly like the American Beauty soundtrack)

There are some clear winners and losers. Ron, Mike, Kevin and Jennifer called in first (winners). Of those, Kevin (Redbeard) is the best. Worst: Hector, Jessie, Jen and Eve. The judges reeeeeally didn't like what those folks had to offer. My money is on Eve. The judges say Jen... dang, I didn't see that happening. Interesting. Her chile relleno was not up to the par.

Countdown to Top Chef (again)

2009-09-13T09:11:00.003-05:00

Being that I've been ill for a few days with some sort of sinus elephant sitting on my head, I'll have PUH-LENTY of time to get you all caught up on some Top Chef Vegas (baby). By now everyone has already seen three full episodes but I have somehow miraculously avoided all details about them, so thanks to the DVR I'll be watching them for the first time today. You, dear reader, will be privy to all the snark, eye rolling and occasional high-fives you can handle. Stay tuned...

Easy, Chicken

2009-08-28T12:12:00.006-05:00

When you think of a Thomas Keller recipe, does the word "simple" come to mind? Me either. Or so I thought.

That is until I stumbled upon his self-authored recipe on epicurious and had to read it a few times through to make sure I wasn't missing something that would complicate the whole thing. Turns out I was able to do that all on my own. But anyway, Keller's recipe is almost stupid in its simplicity. One trussed chicken, some kosher salt, pepper and herbs (if you like), a hot oven and an hour. Voila! Seriously.

But me being me, I researched the heck out of it and consulted the chefs at work regarding the smoke and spatter factor. Upon consideration, I decided to put the chicken on a bed of potatoes, garlic cloves and fennel to provide not only a starch, but a vehicle for that tasty chicken fat (and honestly, who doesn't love sucking the goo out of a roasted garlic clove?).

As a side, I tapped the brains of our pastry chef who happens to love chicken and Brussels sprouts, for his method. I've only ever steamed sprouts because I never bothered to find another way to do them. Turns out, there are several. This particular time I made a mise en place of finely diced shallot, about six diced small cloves of garlic and bacon lardons then set it aside. I halved a pound of sprouts, cut off the rough ends and peeled away the outer leaves. I blanched them for three minutes in heavily-salted water, drained and then immediately shocked them in nearly-frozen water. They were then drained again and patted dry with paper towels.

I cooked the bacon, removed it from the pan, sauteed the shallots and garlic in the bacon grease, added about three tablespoons of white wine (the remains of a chenin blanc from work, it was perfect for this) and reduced. Unfortunately my dinner company is the sort of traveling bachelor who doesn't keep butter stocked, so the reduction was lacking the smoothness and soft flavor I'd hoped for, but it worked out. I added the bacon, cooked off the booze, added the sprouts and let them go until heated through and the whites ever so translucent. In hindsight, I should have added less wine and browned the sprouts a bit before adding to the mix, they didn't brown at all and the bacon went slightly soft on me. Ahh well. Next time.

Due to a bit of a time hiccup with my dining companion, the chicken stayed in the oven for a total of about an hour and 15, the last 20 of which at a lower temperature and about 10 to rest but I know what you're thinking - overcooking is the death of every roast chicken, right? Not this one. This was a freak chicken. Perhaps it was the trussing, the salt or the oven temperature I don't know, but I do know that I can't imagine making another chicken recipe ever again but this one. It rivals my beloved compound-butter-under-the-skin chicken. That's saying something.

Mission accomplished. Two very happy diners, an emptied bottle of delicious Moshin chardonnay 2005, a new recipe with which to dazzle and impress. Thanks to the chefs for their wisdom and information, to my dining companion for being my favorite dining companion ever and my restaurant for letting me pilfer supplies. You're all the best.

Top Chef Vegas, Baby

2009-08-21T18:40:00.002-05:00

I can't guarantee quick delivery, but I can attempt a comical one.

That said, I haven't watched the premiere yet...

Stay tuned.

What Do Wal-Mart and Wine Have in Common?

2009-08-12T22:55:00.004-05:00

This guy.

I hear a lot of people go ape over the Two Buck Chuck wine at Trader Joe's and heck, if I was a functioning alcoholic I'd put down the Wild Turkey and spend my money on some tasty $2 wine too, but like most things worth having... $2? Especially when we're talking about something as artistic, chemically fascinating, ancient and passion-inducing as wine.

Granted, a lot about wine is built up around words like "terrior" and "monocepage" which for the average consumer, are unnecessary diversions from the basic enjoyment of it. There is a small part of the population that actually gives a crap about those things and understands them, and an even smaller percentage of those people who aren't snobby jackasses.

The article and video say that it tests with high marks and that folks can't tell the difference. Either that means people are stupid because they could have been cheating this whole time and no one knew it, or their taste testers were...well... let's just say had "uneducated palettes".

Don't get me wrong, I'm no class warrior (to quote Nick Hornby) but to hear someone go so far the other way with like, straight up disrespect for the thing itself it heartbreaking. It takes something that should ordinarily take time, craft and care and turns it into something that... well... sells for the price of a tube of Chapstick. Or a few postage stamps. Not even a gallon of gas. That's probably a boon to a lot of folks who are strapped these days and I get that, heck I'm one of them, but something about a $2 bottle of wine truly breaks my heart just a bit. The craft is lost.

WWJD?

2009-08-06T10:40:00.004-05:00

Everyone is asking if I'm going to see the new movie Julie & Julia... probably for a few reasons, some of which are that for one thing, I cook, and for another because those that know me well know that she was an inspiration to me before I knew what an inspiration was (or why). Even before I knew that I loved to cook. I spent my weekends on the couch with Julia and most of the time, wasn't even sure what I was watching, I just knew that watching her on TV felt like home.

Thing is, in the hands of Hollywood and Nora Ephron, I can't imagine this movie can capture her zest without making her smile too much or making her downright silly. The magic of Julia was in her dryness and realism. She had such confidence in not knowing everything and I'm not sure you can capture that with movie blocking. Not to mention the wig they put on poor Amy Adams makes me cringe.

If this movie is a success, I'll have to ask myself why. An entire nation loves Julia Child or cares about the struggles of an unhappy-in-life average American girl? Doubtful. Maybe I take the whole cooking bit too seriously, I guess that would stand to reason considering the success of the Food Network and a serious cook's disdain for it. I feel like ultimately it will be fluff. Heart for Julia maybe, but heart for the act of cooking? The passionate love of food in this society of take out and frozen meals with 67 ingredients? I don't know. Obviously I'm going to have to watch it to fully form an opinion, but it may be best for all if I see it in the privacy of my own home so I can roll my eyes, snort and make faces without disturbing my fellow movie goers. Presuming I would.

I mean, how can Hollywood ever hope to capture the essence of such an incredible, unique force of nature like Julia Child? She seems the antithesis of all that Hollywood is. Am I way off, here? Am I taking it too seriously? Probably. I hope that people who go see this movie and who are touched by whatever essence they are able to deliver, will run out and pick up her books and tackle cooking with no fear and a sense of humor. After all, there are no editors, producers or second takes in your kitchen. And I think Julia liked it that way.

The Evils of Hofbrauhaus, or, My Best Friend's Birthday

2009-07-14T00:06:00.006-05:00

My best gal is dear to me. Some of the best times of my life have been had with her, she rules. Typically, her birthday dinner locations are pretty good. They may not be my own for various reasons, but they're usually perfectly acceptable. She likes to do things on a large scale, most of her birthday dinners are for no less than 10 attendees so it stands to reason that she requires restaurants that can house that many of us and have a well-stocked bar. Naturally.

Two years ago, she informed the revelers that she wanted to hit up a German beer hall in the German beer hall part of town, so we did. Upon entry my first thoughts were these: there is no way the food here is any good. There is no way that it is decently priced. Wow that's a big beer.

Now, this may not be indicative of the system as a whole, but these people were charging $3.50 for a tiny salad (iceberg lettuce of course) and over SIX BUCKS for a "house made pretzel" - folks, this was a ballpark pretzel and no better. The food was completely forgettable. So why go to a vacuous space for something basically equivalent to a wedding reception?

Apparently, the eats are not the main draw there. So what is it? The volume, I mean decibels? The German accent-tainted Elvis songs? The old men asking the young ladies to dance? I guess I can see why that could be interesting to some, though not to me. In fact, if anything it serves as a distraction for conversation which I think, is one of the most important ingredients to a good meal (aside from love, aww). I've never enjoyed the sort of meals where the guest of honor is sitting five people away. At that point, you're really only having dinner with the people to your side and in front of you - so why bother? It's a desire for quantity rather than quality, it seems. That's great if it's a bar where it's socially acceptable to get up and move around to continue conversations, but not great in a dining situation. Especially if I'm eating overcooked weisswurst and a seven dollar pretzel.

This is not to knock my best friend, I'd go to every birthday dinner she'll have as long as I'm invited. We are pretty different people when it comes to how we choose to celebrate especially when there's food involved - except for grilling and chili cookoffs. However, since both our birthdays occur in cold weather we can't do a lot of that. Or don't, I should say. Dining with friends means different things to different people, no better exemplified than birthdays. But, hers comes first so with October will come giant steins, giant pretzels, giant waitresses and giant noise. Mine will be intimate, delicious and occur somewhere that allows for table talk amongst all the guests. And wine. Always lots of wine. Should be a good fall and winter.

Food Bloggers

2009-06-16T22:34:00.004-05:00

I was walking through the restaurant today when a server shouted out to me, "Hey Penny, do you know anything about some new food blog that's out there right now?" and my smartass manager said, "Psshhh she probably writes it!" which was actually not regarding this one (they don't know about it, thank God), but a website on which I write restaurant reviews. Anyone can do it, it's not anything major, but people in various industries are very well familiar with this site. It can help and hinder many businesses, so business owners have a love/hate relationship with it. I don't flaunt my contributions to the site, and in fact I'm a little more than horrified that word got out to my work that I even do it, given the industry's relationship to it.

As I crossed through the dining room again, I overheard my chef say something along the lines of, "...people that do those things....losers...nothing better to do...."

Which, as I walked down to the office, I immediately internalized and fretted over. Was he talking about me? Was he talking about the website? Surely he must know I write on it since the GM, at least one owner, sous and chef de cuisine all know (and make fun of me for it). What if they find out about this web journal, will it put me in the lameass food blogger category? And moreover, what is up with the total animosity that chefs have for bloggers, anyway? What is so wrong with documenting something you're interested in? I mean, even Chef Michael Ruhlman posted a lovely letter from a chef blogger who chose to defend her sort.

I just found this interview between Charlie Rose and Thomas Keller in my attempts to find his thoughts on food blogs (he doesn't share them here). He hits on Old Chef vs. New Chef and I think it's nice to hear a seasoned (still practicing) vet talk about the subject. Frankly I'm so used to seeing Bourdain crack wise about the changes and downsides, it's nice to hear about the growth, determination and advancements. It's also impressive to watch him hurdle Charlie Rose's poor, interrupty interviewing style.

It wasn't until I started working where I work that I began to truly grasp ingredients as The Thing Itself, and for people who have perhaps realized that late like me, it's exciting and worth documenting - I think. It's something you want to tell people, a gospel of sorts. Tomorrow, my mother and sisters will be joining me at my work for lunch and while I worry the experience may be lost on them by no fault of their own, I do hope something sticks. Flavors absolutely, but truly great service at the hands of one of our best as well. It's a bigger treat than they may understand, and maybe it's the city snob in me, but it's nothing they can experience without traveling far away from their homes. They'd have to recognize quality first though, and ideally tomorrow will begin that for them (presuming they're even remotely interested in it - and I dare say, they aren't, not nearly as much as I). But part of my food enjoyment in general is the enjoyment of others. When the servers set down an amuse in front of a new guest, the looks on his or her face is fantastic. Anticipation, excitement, it's so lovely and that part I love.

Hmm, maybe I should bring my camera to lunch with me and a notepad...

Oh, and Another Thing...

2009-04-19T21:02:00.004-05:00

Some of you who been following this web journal may have noticed a change in the title. When I started this thing a year or so ago, I called it Something for the Foodies and it's hard to believe that in just a year, that word has become so loaded with eye-rolling potential that I had to drop it. I don't even know what it means anymore, considering how small and accessible the world that folks used to consider "foodie" now is. So rather than cringe every time I saw the title, I changed it to two things I know intimately: a happy kitchen and me, the single girl (and that they are mutually inclusive).

Along with shark-jumping is another item close to my heart which I've had to shove back into the closet: bacon. Bacon has somehow become a bottom-shelf whore for anyone with taste buds. There are at least three bars in my area that actually cook it up and give it away. They give it away! For free! It's the dregs they're throwing in the fryer and tossing into napkin-lined fake wicker baskets for the drunken rubes and I completely resent it. Actually, I feel something between resent and pity because these folks have never had properly prepared pork belly or fresh-cut, butcher-prepared bacon, they don't know what it is to have good bacon. So therefore, my love of the belly of pork and all my bacon-cooking experiments are going under cover until something must be reported.

With that said, the next time you hear me mention it I will have perfected my cayenne-candied bacon ice cream. Stay tuned.

Bread, the Chaste Stranger

2009-04-19T17:42:00.007-05:00

"How can a nation be great if its bread tastes like Kleenex?"

- Julia Child

I've attempted a lot of weirdo foodstuffs with gusto. I almost never worry how it will turn out because I have enough tricks up my sleeve and cooking knowledge to pull an attempt up before it crashes and burns at the end of the runway.

That is...until it comes to bread. I have never attempted bread, even the kind that comes out of the box and you just add a bottle of beer and an egg. Bread scares me. The commitment, the chemistry, the possibility of failure (even the breads they say you "can't possibly screw up!"...heh. Watch me).

Lately however, one bread has been floating above my head doing dances and taunting me: the pretzel roll. I know where to buy them, I know what restaurants use them in service, but I want to make them for myself. I want to sit on the couch without shame and stuff them in my mouth, one after the other. The sweet, the salt, the warm and the soft. Delicious.

I'm trying to find the best recipe to try, but I don't know what I'm looking for. I know how it should feel in my hand and taste, but no idea what leads me there. So stay tuned gentle reader Oh, and if you have a recipe for me, send it over!

Ruhlman and the Lemon Bars

2009-04-10T13:24:00.005-05:00

I know some of you think I'm snobbish (about a lot of things, yeah yeah) when it comes to food stuffs and prep, and am a little bit of a nazi in the kitchen when it comes to "my stuff" (ie, "don't touch that Wustoff, here's a Kitchenaid instead"). I can live with that. I am about to teach my roommate how to properly clean my stainless frying pan because I don't like how she does it. Does that make me a jerk? Fine, jerk on because that pan sears some delicious eats.

Today's writing comes to you courtesy of Cleveland's own chef Michael Ruhlman. I think it speaks for itself, so I'm giving him all the credit. I completely get behind what he says, what he makes, what he implies and the exchange between his mother and himself because it is exactly the same as mine would be - though to mom's credit, she's a from scratch cook most of the time.

His blog is always entertaining and often pretty useful. His wife takes the photos, which are glorious. Enjoy.

Sometimes my Mom thinks I'm overly opinionated in the kitchen (i.e., an asshole) and she no doubt has a point. When I saw her pulling out a box of lemon squares mix I held my tongue, but not my expression. She said, "I know, I know."

I said, "I didn't even know they made boxed mixes for lemon squares. Mom, why?"

"I guess I was afraid they wouldn't turn out." She paused. "I used to make Susan Ziegler's all the time."

Is it Duncan Hines and Betty Crocker and the evil Kraft Foods that have trained us to think we are such colossal idiots in the kitchen that we can't measure a cup of flour on our own? That our response to an actual lemon bar recipe would be to stick our finger in our nose and look away? We have to buy a $3 boxed mix and supply our own eggs? People! You can leave the cave!

When Mom said she still had Susan Ziegler's recipe, I asked her to get it. She did, read it and said, "That's it?"

"Yes, Mom, that's it."

I think she felt so chastened, she overcooked the boxed mix on purpose.

So herewith the lemon square recipe of my youth from a neighbor then on our block whom I still know, slightly adapted (more lemon juice). I started making these in fourth grade. The above lemon square was made by James, currently in fourth grade. It results in a sweet buttery shortbread crust and a soft creamy curd in almost equal proportions, so they are almost like cookies. I like the balance but if you wanted more curd, I don't see why you couldn't increase the curd ingredients by half, adding a tablespoon of corn starch perhaps to ensure the extra volume sets up. Taste the curd as you mix it—you may want to add more lemon or less to taste.

Susan Ziegler’s Lemon Squares

The Crust

4 ounces butter, melted

1 cup flour

¼ cup confectioners sugar, plus 1 tablespoon for dusting

The Curd

2 eggs

1 cup granulated sugar

½ teaspoons baking powder

¼ teaspoons salt

5 tablespoons lemon juice (one lemon)

Heat your oven to 350 degrees.

For the crust, combine all ingredients till well mixed and press into an 8X8 or 9x6 baking dish. Bake 20-25 minutes or until lightly browned.

Combine all the ingredients for the lemon curd, mix well and pour over crust. Bake 20 minutes. When it's completely cool, put a spoonful of confectioners sugar in a fine mesh strainer and dust the top.

That's it. Come to think of it, you probably don't even need the baking powder. But I'm afraid to call Susan to ask. She may reply, "Because that's what it said on the box."

Liquid Gold

2009-03-06T17:41:00.002-06:00

Truffle oil: are you familiar?

I admit, I only discovered this stuff in the last six months but lately it's everywhere (thank the good lord above). At work, we have a dish which, when I see it walk past me, creates a Pavlovian response and it becomes all I can think about until I eat or go home. I decided tonight to try to recreate it.

Mind you, I don't know the exact cheese we use though I know it's a chèvre, and I don't make my own focaccia so I had to use pita, but I got pretty darn close.

It's not salty enough and pita is the wrong bread as it happens, but the general idea is there. Next time it's going to require a thin yet spongy bread and perhaps a salt/oil/butter mix. Good, but not perfect. I took pictures, but until I'm satisfied with the results I won't post them quite yet.

At least I now have this lovely bottle of oil to experiment with, thanks Whole Foods. It only took four shops to find it.

Next chapter in the foods-new-to-me book? Beets! Boiling as we speak...

The Poorest Man's Sous Vide

2009-02-05T20:42:00.008-06:00

Down the street a few blocks from me is one of the best burger joints in the world. Yet it's more than simply a burger joint. It's full of metal and rockers, disenfranchised (as much as you can be in a world of iPods and free WiFi anyway), surly, funny and is very, very real. It's called Kuma's Corner and you must check it out if you're in Chicago. Ever. At any point. Come early, prepare to wait. Prepare thyself.

But Kuma's doesn't just do burgers. They also have a fantastic house salad with loads of spinach and a delicious basil dressing. There's the best calamari I've ever had with its deep-fried lemon slices. House-made buffalo wing sauce for the chicken tenders. And mac and cheese. Amazing mac and cheese.

This mac and cheese is make-your-own. I always go bacon with grilled onions personally.. but when you get this amazing mac and cheese home, heating it up is darn near impossible. With all the cheese used, it always, ALWAYS breaks upon reheating. I have yet to find a way to heat it so that it doesn't turn into an oily mess when all I want is the creamy, amazing deliciousness for a repeat experience.

Tonight I decided to sous vide it. Preliminary indications show that it has still broken, it's been in the water for half an hour now and I see oil running about. The only way to truly save this, because the sauce is incorporated and can't be warmed through with a simple egg solution, is to make yet another Béchamel to add to the already thick dish. I frankly don't want to go that route.

But here is the attempt. I broke my leftovers into two portions. One to sous vide, one to attempt to revive with another sauce, on the stove. Sadly, it's greasy tasting. A nice side effect of the method though, is that the grease pools in the bag and the pasta can then be scooped out, avoiding the majority of it in the bowl.

Whatever's Clever

2009-01-17T18:51:00.002-06:00

A few years ago for Christmas, my mom gave me my very own copy of The Joy Of Cooking. I asked her to write in the cover for me and she did, saying this:

"Penny,

I hope you'll go on cooking for many years, in your own creative way

Love, Mom"

I remember that day we were unhappy with one another about something so I'm sure if we'd had a better day together it would have been something other than what a cooking school instructor would have written, but the point is that she acknowledged a huge difference in our cooking styles.

My mom has always, always cooked by the book (or the recipe card, as it were). She almost never deviates and if she does and it works, that becomes the new standard. I, on the other hand, will screw something up in a hot second if it's written down. Magically, teaspoons become tablespoons, I develop measurement amnesia and can't recall if I've already added that quarter cup of flour, etc. I really have to concentrate if I'm going off a recipe especially if it's the first time I'm making an important element to the meal or I'm baking - since baking is chemistry.

But generally, like tonight, I just whip together whatever's there and whatever looks like it might work together. This evening's experiment was no different... ladies and gentleman... chicken breast with sage and black pepper, cooked in bacon grease. The peppercorn ranch was to dip the carrots in, but it tasted pretty good on the chicken as well (even though I admit that's a little Applebees for my taste).

When There's Nothing Else, There's Top Chef

2008-12-03T21:03:00.003-06:00

This week has fallen apart on me completely, well, aside from getting my Christmas tree up and decorated. Every single plan that I had in mind to do has been canceled. Except for laundry. My birthday is on Sunday and Saturday night is the big friend bar party... someone better kiss me, is all I'm saying about that.

Ok on to Top Chef. Might as well watch this one while the newest one is recording so I can write about it immediately following this. Or heck, maybe I'll save it for tomorrow since tomorrow's plans will probably also be in the crapper.

Episode 3: Sharp Knives By The Light Of The Tree, or, I Hope There Are Wustoffs In My Future

Fabio and Stefan are still gay for each other. Ariane is still talking about how much she sucks. The 'mos lament missing Pride week.

Quickfire! GRANT ACHATZ!! Holy lord! The next Thomas Keller, people. The survivor. The genius. The man. Frankly I'm shocked he stepped away from Alinea long enough to do this show. Padma looks at him to say "hello" and looks as if she sort of wants to kiss him. I know I do. Oops sorry... the cheftestants pull numbered knives which indicates a page they must cook a dish from, from the Top Chef cookbook plugplugplugplugplug. They have to put a twist on it. GO!

None of them are very impressed or interested in their assigned dishes. Padma stops them mid-flow announcing they are to stop what they're doing and make soup out of the ingredients they were already working with. Oof. Wasn't it Benjamin Franklin that said "only the pure of heart can make soup"? I think so.

Stefan: scallop and shrimp with coconut milk. Grant likey. Ariane diced lamb, Grant says overcooked. Shock. Daniel had black forest ham with a poached egg, Grant likey. Richard, black bean and rice, Grant says needs an acid. Melissa, Italian wedding soup, Grant no likey. Fabio, mushroom and asparagus soup, Grant says bland. Weirdo Carla makes shrimp and coriander, Grant likey. Leah has chilled asparagus soup, Grant likey. Jamie has a (and she's really irritating describing the entire thing) deconstructed falafel, Grant likey. Grant approves generally. Jamie, Leah and Daniel were the winners. Of those, Leah takes the cake. I'd sit down and cry that Chef would even be looking at me in the face using my name.

Oh lord the Foo Fighters are coming to down and they're hungry. For Thanksgiving. Granted, this aired Thanksgiving week but they probably filmed it in August which explains the smirks they all have while talking about "Thanksgiving". So they pick teams, Leah picks Jamie, Hosea, Stefan, Melissa, Fabio and Radhika. Why WHY would you put Team Eurogay on your team? How irritating will they be with their world domination and their accents? Pah!

The winners get seats at the show, the losers get to wash up and then go home (on which I call horsesh##t - you know they went to that show). Roadie greets, Jeff wants to go to the show. The kitchen is outside. Their ovens are microwaves. No fridges, no freezers. One burner. Toaster ovens. 15 minutes to plan. Jeff once again rises to the top and takes the lead - he's a good leader, actually. Well, watch I just said that... total KOD. Ariane can't understand why no one is "acknowledging" her "strengths". To which I ask WHAT STRENGTHS? Ugh. Fabio say that if they can do it, no one in the stupid old USA has an excuse for not making a decent Thanksgiving dinner. Go home, Mussolini!

How can you make a turkey without running water? GROSS. Eugene decides to build a grill. Is that legal? I am not going to detail everything they are doing, it's sort of boring and obvious. Jeff is taking the reigns which is both wise and bad. Oops look it's raining. Fabio's tiramisu is getting wet. Poor Fabio. Someone can't get crispy potatoes. Carla has something to prove because she wasn't picked for kickball team A.

In walk the judges and the Foos. Hosea isn't worthy. Whoa... someone just called Tom a "hottie gay bear icon". What?! Oh lordy. First reports, they got too weird. Grant says keep it simple. Vegan stuffing was great. Turkey done well. They liked the tiramisu but not the other desserts. Hmm, jury is mixed.

Team A (I sort of refuse to say their name) wins. Team B is about to be one less. They go to a rock show. Team B cleans up to the thundering sounds of the Foo Fighters overhead. One of the 'mos makes a comment about throwing each other under the bus to save their own hides... hmm...

Judges table: Oh boy there goes Jeff after having stepped up. His team is standing behind him very nicely. Almost all the food but (snort) Ariane's turkey, blew. The s'mores were a failure. They didn't like anything Jeff did. Oh boy. Grant says he'd have picked him as a teammate though, which says something. The s'mores are unforgivable.

Verdict: of Daniel, Jeff and Richard... Richard and his s'mores are outa there. Team 'Mo are down a member. *sad trombone*

Top Chef NYC, episode 2

2008-11-30T23:11:00.005-06:00

Firstly, Thanksgiving was tremendous. The compound butter absolutely made it. MADE IT. It went off without a hitch of any kind besides running out of wine by the end. Very happy.

And now... for your reading pleasure... especially you procrastinators... we have: TOP CHEF episode Two: I Might Be The Only One Who Cares About This Two-Weeks Old Show...

Opening act: Arrogant or simply foreign? Stefan won episode 1. The 'mos open the day reminding us that they are a team. Ariane yet again, doubts herself, her skills, and halfassedly admits she deserves to be there competing. Stefan and Fabio remind us that they are foreign and highly skilled.

Off to the kitchen: Padma greets the cheftestants with guest judge Donatella Arpella... someone... restaurateur... something. Anyway, the Quick Fire is to go up against an established hot dog proprietor by making their own hot dogs. Fabio forgets some prepositions and says he has no idea how to make hot dog shrug shrug hand gesture. Winner gets immunity.

Radhika might have to knock it off with the Indian dishes lest she be pigeonholed by her own hand. Sushi dog? Gross. Panini dog? Hmm. Almost everyone made their own meat but for Jill. She is properly chastised. Stefan's dog sucks. Radhika's dog hits, so does Fabio's Mediterranean. Hosea's bacon dog (of course), the winner is Radhika's Indian dog.

Elimination Challenge: open a Top Chef restaurant in Manhattan. Create a three-course "New American" lunch menu with each cheftestant responsible for one dish. Everyone immediately jumps in screaming about what dish they want to do. Wisely, Jeff takes control and figures out who wants to do what and separates them into groups accordingly, desserts and entrees.

Hosea picks up canned crab - a collective "eep" goes up across the land. Wacky Jill grabs an ostrich egg to make the world's hugest quiche. The dessert group starts out yet again with Ariane getting all milquetoast about her ideas and choices...

Chef Tom pops into the kitchen to say, "hey by the by, you're going to be cooking in my kitchen and ps, they're all New York chefs that tried out for this show and didn't make it". Hellooooo sour grapes firing squad! Nicely played, producers.

Stefan and Fabio are gay for each other. Eugene wants in because he can cook too, man. He then makes a mildly underhanded comment about how long the trip back to Europe is going to be... zang. There's love in the air... Hosea and some dark haired girl are playing footsies on the couch. AwwwwwGAG. Conversations about nerves, angry New Yorkers, blah blah - this episode is really boring so far.

They enter Craft reverently and quickly. Hosea's messing with his crab, Fabio is chemically reactioning his olives, curly is unhappy with her crust, Ariane is trusting competitors' opinions on her dish (fool). The dejected chefs (dejefs?) enter and sit. They talk about what they see on the menu and are poised and ready to fight, clearly.

Chef and his sous chef are expo'ing - Alex..there's a contestant called Alex? - the dejefs order. Apps first. Jamie's corn soup goes over well. Hosea's crab bombs. Leah's potatoes bombs. Fabio's carpaccio is fabulous. Melissa's avocado is boring. Jill's quiche sucks. Eugene's meatloaf's presentation sucks. Stefan's halibut is thumbs up. Jeff is having problems with the range but his chicken gets props. Alex's pork loin blows. Radhika's avocado mousse gets grimaces, Daniel's ricotta pound cake is good. Ariane's lemon martini makes Padma spit it out (wow). Richard's banana bread gets mixed thumbs up. Carla's rustic apple tart is good says Padma. Tom is eating everyone's food and they're all reaching for their Xanax. The diners are generally pissed and pissy about being passed over for "this". Tom says "disappointing" "shocked" and "clunky".

Judges Table: I want Ariane to go. Did you get that impression yet...? Tom wants to see Hosea, Ariane, Fabio, Carla, Jill and Jamie. Fabio, Jamie and Carla get the thumbs up. Of them, Fabio takes the cake. LOOOSERS! Ariane, Hosea and Jill. Hosea's canned crab was just a bad call... he should have gotten fresh crab or changed the dish completely. Ariane can't defend the lemon martini without a shrug and a puss. Dead eyed, mouth-breather Jill's quiche was too boring and just didn't work. Again, a shrug and perhaps the worst defense ever.

Commence firing squad: Jill's out. Yeah, I can see that... but you knew who I wanted to get the boot. Even Jill said Ariane should have been the one to go because of Padma's spit take. Agreed. Jill cries. Ariane cries because she's confused. They all look shell shocked. Ariane cries because she "doesn't deserve it". NO SHITE.

Ok maybe it's my huge gap in watching these shows, but this season kinda sucks.

Set Lasers to GOBBLE

2008-11-27T10:02:00.003-06:00

My first Thanksgiving shared with friends rather than family. I'm completely looking forward to it for several reasons, all of which I will spare you but for one: I am making my very first Thanksgiving turkey.

The compound butter is in the fridge, the bird is thawed and almost ready to come out and be assaulted by my anxious little hands. The stuffing recipe is ready to go and everyone should be showing up by 2:30.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

PS, I'm backlogged two Top Chefs. I'll watch them tomorrow and promise to post. So far I've stayed away from all spoilers... so far.

Sitting At The Feet Of The Masters, Looking Up

2008-11-12T20:22:00.005-06:00

I realized the other day that I forgot to update my last post about waiting to hear from the restaurant.

I got the job. Every day that I work there, I get to behold the craft and artwork of the kitchen. I've seen the same endive salad go past me several times, but I don't get sick of looking at it (or over the desire to eat it). The pork belly is gorgeous, and I am jealous of every person I see eating it. The desserts... oh the desserts. Happily, our pastry chef is ever-evolving and has recently come up with a dessert of house-made pretzel balls with hopped ice cream served with a swath of brown mustard. Fascinating!

I was intimidated, being around that food. It sounds so silly, doesn't it? It feels to me sometimes like I'm walking around a Hollywood backlot and at any moment some movie star could come around the corner, the energy crackles for me like that. The first day I was standing up front, over my shoulder the door opened, and in walked chef. I'd seen him on TV and in multiple publications. I knew his face, and it was smiling. At me. I managed to get out a smiley "hello!" as he walked by and headed to the kitchen.

Even simply being downstairs in the office, chef has his own part of the continuous desk that wraps around the room. On it are notes from the James Beard committee, a photobooth picture of him and his wife, some kids drawings and a photo of him with Wylie Dufresne. I take phone messages for him and leave them on the already-started pile. I don't get starstruck well ever, but I can't help but feel as though I'm in the house he built... I am, after all.

I apparently beat out 150 applications and was one of two people hired - the other had a personal in with the pastry chef. I have no idea how that happened, I don't think I'm that charming, but they saw something in me that they liked and that's been a nice esteem booster.

Two major perks: 50% off my bill (and with one other person no less) at both our and our sister restaurant - and rumor has it more than that - AND each shift I get a free meal. At lunch, a full meal and at dinner, an appetizer. We also do "family meal" each day, which is when the kitchen makes one big offering for the staff and we sit down and eat (though not all together at the tables, I have to watch the phone...boo). My first bit of food were sweetbreads, which were not as good as Custom House, but still good enough that I've gotten them twice.

It's still a restaurant job and I'm still disappointed in myself to be working yet another one of those, but if I'm going to do it I'd like to think I've peaked working there. The clientele is totally different at a high-end place, in both good and bad ways, but I do know that I stand up straighter, smile more sincerely and while ultimately I would rather dine there than work there, it's still an honor.

Oh and when I'm done with work tomorrow, I was instructed to go up to the pastry kitchen where the pastry chef himself is going to prepare the pretzel dessert just for me.

OMGTCNYC

2008-11-12T19:51:00.003-06:00

People, believe it or not, today I completely forgot that I was keeping track of Top Chef last season. What kind of crappy blog keeper am I?

So with that little bit of regret I will now open the floor for... TOP CHEF NEW YORK CITAY! And just so you know, if you're unfamiliar, I write in real time via the DVR. I rewind and pause then play and type. You read it as I saw it.

Opening hype! Toughest season ever! Shots of New York! Flambe! Cursing! Pouting! Irritated judges! Yes, it's that time of year again...

There's really someone called Fabio? Oh you poor man. Ew Jeffrey just winked. I don't trust winkers. Lots of tattoos this season. Radhika is from Chicago, though I've never eaten at her restaurant. Wow Carla is... tall. Aww rosey cheeked culinary student Patrick. Ooh Finnish accent. Nice. Ooh east coast accent. Not so nice. Requisite gays. Padma. Tom.

Quickfire Challenge numero uno! Loser gets the boot straight away:
First round, peel 15 apples using a knife (not a peeler), chef Tom judges that. First nine go onward. Hosea Rosenberg speaks! Jewish much? Finnish Stefan is immune, he finished first.
Round two: remaining eight cheftestants have to tiny dice their apples, last four standing go on to third round.
Round three: remaining four have to make something out of their apples, Tom judges the final product. The culinary student is my prediction for adios with his "simple apple salad" citing quality over speed... hmm...

Yep, it's down to Patrick and his buddy Lauren (who were friends previously, ouch). Wow... it's Patrick staying and Lauren going. She was slightly cocky actually, though sadly her husband is fighting for our country overseas and she now has to go home and think about that. But the ferry waits for no one, see ya later lady!

Elimination Challenge already, no rest for the weary/wicked/Wustoffs (ha! oh me...)

Teams formed, knuckles bumped. They go home to settle in. It's an apartment not a house, as you'd expect in New York, but mind you a 5 million dollar apartment in Brooklyn. The gays have bonded, there appear to only be three this time around. We have accents, thick ones, and ooh subtitles! The Fin and the Italian are already offending people with their attitudes.

The Challenge has the competitors preparing food from the neighborhoods on the knives they drew from the block the day before, two per team, battling each other. Brighton Beach is Russian, did you know that? I didn't. Astoria is Greek, did Carla just say "spirit guide"? Like, Johnny Cash coyote spirit guide? Awesome! Little Italy, Chinatown (oh Patrick is scaring me with his innocence and lack of experience), Little India...

First time in the kitchen, everyone's agog. GE plug though a mild one, Fabio's accent isn't like any other Italian accent I've heard before... I kinda like it. This New Jersey chick has absolutely zero self confidence. Blondie Jeffrey ran out of time, hardly anything made it onto his plate, oops.

Judging. Guest judge is Jean-George Vongerichten - ok that's a little intimidating - Tom, Padma and ugh Gail. She's the Michael Kors of Top Chef, aways looking like she smells something bad.

The pairings yeild the following losers: New Jersey's couscous, gay Richard's overcooked lamb, Radhika's mushy fish and rice, Fabio's... they don't really say why, Carla's was just less good but not bad, Melissa's underseasoned steak, Patrick's gummy and bland Asian thing, Alex's lack of pure Indian (which was an accident on Eugene's part).

Deliberations. Glad storeroom, time to be judged!

Bring ye forth Stefan, Eugene and Leah (winners), Patrick and Ariane (losers). I'm going with Patrick, though I could see why they'd drop Ariane as well - either way, you're getting rid of low self esteem which poisons all efforts and basic immature cooking knowlege which will be Patrick's undoing regardless of what he makes. Eugene's Indian home run seems like too much of a fluke to be a good prediction for the future. Stefan wins the challenge, and Padma notes that the winner of the first challenge has historically gone on to win the whole thing but for one season.

Arian didn't know how to make her grains and beans, period. Basic. Patrick didn't display clear knowlege of Chinese ingredients and wound up making something generic, they say. They are saying without saying that he hasn't been around, tastebud-wise. Oops Arian just shot herself in the foot by telling them that she cooks out of cookbooks and not by experience. Red flag, judges. Don't let this woman keep on making a fool out of herself, be kind and let her go home. Patrick is at least young enough to be moulded and taught. I think Arian set her dial to destructo before even setting foot in the door.

They choose to keep Arian and tell Patrick to go... I disagree. They want him to finish school, I say this is better school than he'd get in school. Oh geez in the upcoming shots they show Carla comforting Arian with a "you deserve to be here" while Arian cries. Really, people? Really? Ugh... whatever.

Top Chef NYC

2008-10-16T15:49:00.002-05:00

It's coming the second week of November, folks. This season had better be better than Project Runway was. That's the second time they've pissed me off with the finale.

Let the countdown begin!

Just Out Of Reach

2008-09-26T11:08:00.005-05:00

I've just landed an interview for a position at a renown restaurant here in Chicago. Not like, Pizzeria Uno renown (thank God) but something a little more attuned with the foodies. The chef owns two of the hotter places around, and has even done the Top Chef circuit - to tie it all together for me.

In thinking about the interview, I keep wondering if she's going to ask me what restaurants I like, where I eat when I'm hungry, and what sort of palette I have. I'm trying to come up with a clever way to tell her I have champagne tastes on a Boones Farm budget without sounding like a schlub. There is though, almost no way to say it. The most amazing meals of my life have occurred only since the new year and they were subsidized by others. I simply can't just go out, and eat where I want when I want.

My burgeoning desire for culinary adventure is exactly proportionate to my lack of funds. Over the last few years I've made it a point to educate myself about what's out there in Chicago and beyond, which the food lovers consider exciting. I have thereby become more and more fascinated and excited by it all myself, and yet here I am without an exploratory expense account when I need it most.

And as an interesting, fabulous little side effect that may come as a result of this job, I'd be only one person removed from Bourdian... I'm just sayin'.

Inspiration, Thy Name Is Bourdain

2008-08-24T22:41:00.005-05:00

It's a little sick, and probably a fetish somewhere in the world, but watching someone completely immerse and love a food experience is for me, one of the greatest things I can ever observe.

I love No Reservations partly because of Bourdain's snark, well a lot of it is because of his snark actually, and his shorthand honesty aimed I think mainly at people in the food service industry (for example, calling himself the "FNG" when going back on the line in his restaurant after 10 years off and getting in the way of the rest of the cooks). But another reason I love it is because of his straight up, balls out, unabashed love of food and who cooks it for him.

One of the last episodes of this season was his visit to Spain, and I recalled from reading a few of his books, that he refers to Spain (particularly the culinary village of San Sebastian) as one of the top few places at which he is the most excited to return. He loves Asia as well, but something about his whole energy shift in Spain made me instantly want to get on a plane and go there.

This season of No Reservations, there has been a notable shift in his demeanor. He's quit smoking, no doubt in part due to the arrival of his baby daughter and perhaps hot new Italian wife. He's still snarky, but seems to have mellowed a bit. Easier to laugh, quicker to bliss out, and not too slow to get romantic about his experiences.

By the end of the Spain episode I was, with all due respect and in its most pure state, aroused. Not like bonin' aroused, but viscerally so. My head and my heart together, completely in love with his experience albeit vicariously. He makes mention of cooking food over fire as one of the most basic ways to bring people together, a commonality shared by the entire world. The simple joy of a glass of wine, good conversation and well-prepared food made for, in that moment, a perfect existance.

I've no doubt that heaven exists, and in my mind, heaven is a sidewalk cafe with dappled sunshine, 79 degrees and breezy, the faint smell of 2 stroke scooter exhaust in the air, bottomless glasses of wine without those pesky side effects, a basket of freshly baked bread, olive oil, and plates of food wherein you can actually taste the love with which they were prepared. Oh and my dad telling some army stories while drinking a margarita.

The Die Happy Meal

2008-06-27T12:45:00.005-05:00

Earlier this week I was blessed by a visit from two friends, Jeff and his special lady Nicole. Jeff and I have known each other for 10 years (as of riiiiight....NOW!), I just finished another degree, it was his birthday and Nicole's first visit to Chicago. There was a lot to celebrate. So we did. For four days in a row.

The week was full of goodness. Things like a Cubs game, burgers at Kuma's, really delicious sushi and perhaps the absolute highlight was Jeff's birthday dinner at a rave-fetching restaurant in the Printer's Row section of Chicago, Custom House. Nicole did her research, decided it was the best thing to do, and she was exactly right. It was the best meal of my life, to date.

Since I'm a little compulsive about what I eat and how I enjoy it, sometimes I take notes while dining somewhere new or that has a rep. I write reviews for a website (unpaid, don't be impressed) and I like to be thorough, plus it forces me to be detailed in my opinions and actually consider what it is that I'm doing there. Custom House was no different. I asked our server who happened to be an acquaintance of mine through a previous job, for a piece of paper to take notes. She gave me a whole pad and thus, the running commentary Custom House review was born. I think it probably speaks for itself, and apologies for my chicken scratch handwriting. I was in a rush to get back to eating.

(Click on it for a bigger view)

CCBC Redux

2008-06-15T10:47:00.003-05:00

Chocolate Chip Bacon Cookies Round 2, More Bacon: This Time, It's Personal.

Coming soon to a kitchen near me.

This Is The End, My Friend

2008-06-14T08:33:00.002-05:00

This is it, folks. What we've all been working so hard for. The day has come.

Unfortunately, the Chicago Tribune likes to spoil things so when I absent-mindedly clicked on Thursday's front page, the Top Chef winner was smiling back at me with an accompanying story. Just in case you're reading this and still don't know who it was, I won't tell you. And for future reference, avoid all forms of electronic information the day after a finale. Sigh.

Here goes! THE TOP CHEF FINALE!

Last we saw, Lisa was being pissy about getting to the finals. Richard doesn't care about Lisa being pissy. Stef is ever the level head. She wants to be the first female Top Chef winner. Richard has everything to lose by losing, family situationally speaking. Lisa is happy that she's in the finale but is smug and a jerk about it... why is there always a smug jerk at the end of this show?

Chefs April Bloomfield, Dan Barber and Eric Ripert (yay!) are waiting for the cheftestants. Create a four course meal: fish to poultry to red meat to dessert. Chef Ripert rattles off the ingredients in his basket with that gorgeous French accent and... I've suddenly forgotten what I'm doing... oh, right.

Richard's wins and Stef's wins put them in a dead heat to pick ingredients. They opt for the knife block to determine first pick. Stef pulls number one and picks her goods. She picks Chef Ripert, Richard picks Chef Barber's ingredient basket and Lisa picks Chef Bloomfield – and she's so happy to work with a woman, “girl power”. Sigh. Go home, Lisa.

Lisa's doing oysters, prawns, crab, chicken, pancetta, etc. Asian, mostly. Her guest chef doesn't cook Asian and is feeling surprised at the challenge. Richard is doing scallops, halibut, duck, foie gras, etc. and will be using his molecular gastronomy chops. Stef's doing hamachi, lobster, quail, bacon, etc and Chef Ripert approves.

Richard breaks out the liquid nitrogen and the other chefs perk up to watch him work. He notes that he's just shown Eric Ripert something that Eric Ripert had never seen before, and looks like he might pee himself just a little.

This is a really interesting collection of personalities and talents, as far as these finalists go. More interesting than in previous seasons, I think.

Everyone goes home. The next day, they get the curve ball: their sous chefs are not helping, so the finalists are now on their own as Tom says, “to live and die by [their] own hands”. They treat it as if someone has called off work in a normal kitchen and they are forced to go it alone. No panic, no cursing. I'm looking at you, Dale.

Chef Tom comes to ask how they're doing. Stef and Richard are a little frantic and nervous but have a clear plan. Lisa is almost overly calm, strangely so, and Tom wonders why she's so mellow since up to that point she's been a surly, belligerent... ok, he didn't use those words.

Richard is making bacon ice cream. I've had bacon ice cream and to it I say, Bring. It. On.

Lisa seems foolishly mellow, as if there's nothing on the line and she doesn't understand why the others aren't speaking during their prep.

The cheftestants are plating, the judges are waiting, the glasses are clinking. A Puerto Rican chef is also a judge, as well as the Zagat guy.

First course: Lisa's prawns, Stef's seared red snapper & Richard's scallop with mango.

Someone comments that Richard would do well to understate, Lisa's chili sauce is too strong and Stef's dish gets all compliments.

Second course: Lisa's soup, Stef's seared quail breast and egg & Richard's guinea hen with foie gras.

Richard's is interesting but complicated, Lisa's soup goes over very well and Stef's does well but for a few complaints about the leeks.

Third course: Lisa's wagyu beef with garlic chips and homemade hot sauce, Stef's lamb medallions with olive tapanade & Richard's pork belly with mirin broth.

Richard's is under seasoned, Lisa's beef is good but the sauce is too sweet & Stef's is a surprise hit using the words “I love”, Chef Ripert points out.

Dessert course: Lisa's black Thai rice pudding with coconut, Stef's ricotta pound cake with fruit & Richard's famous banana scallop with bacon ice cream.

Lisa's is yummy, Richard's gets a minor bit of attention for being yet again under developed, and Stef's is bland and boring (basically).

The birds in Puerto Rico are chirping and the cheftestants approach for the last time... to the last judge's table!

Richard is surprised at the critique of under seasoning, muddling and confusion.
Lisa defended the heat and spice of her food by saying that's what she likes so that's what she makes. She looks irritated at the comment of the sweet sauce on the beef.
Stef looks horrified that her leeks were undercooked, but takes the compliment of her meat and quail very well.

The desserts are interesting to the judges but for Stef's, they didn't like hers. No one has commented on the friggin bacon ice cream! Geez, people!

Last comments, cheftestants? Yes. Stef mentions second-guessing herself on the dessert and that's why it was a flop. Lisa touts her awesomeness. Richard feels like he choked due to overthinking his dishes. He's not happy with his performance and judging by the look on his face, feels like he completely blew it. The judges look shocked, as if he just told them he faked the whole thing. All he said is that he felt the pressure, it's not like he stole ideas or something.

Ted Allen is reminding me very much of Michael Stipe for some reason.

Oh NOW they comment on the bacon ice cream, suggesting the major ice cream makers need to get on that. Which they do and will. But it will suck when they do, so make it yourself.

The judges agree. Lisa is blindly optimistic. Richard looks despondent and Stephanie looks just a little scared (and sweaty).

Chef Tom compliments each one on their style and personality. Then he tells Stephanie that she's the grand champion. Richard looks like he wants to cry, Lisa looks irritated and cute little Stef just looks friggin happy. Good old hometown Chicago girl makes good. I like it. She has the personality to back it up, and appears to a really talented chef. I'm happy for her. Congrats, Stef, you kept it classy. Richard: see you at Moto someday. Lisa... yeah.

Humble Beginnings

2008-06-10T02:10:00.003-05:00

In honor of the upcoming Father's Day holiday, and in memory of my father, I give you one of only three things my dad could make successfully:

The Family Grilled Cheese (with Miracle Whip)

This year I'm starting a new tradition. On Father's Day I will make for myself the three things dad could make and offered, every time mom was out of the house and it was lunch (or dinner) time, and/or we were sick. The Grilled Cheese, The Chocolate Malted and The Egg Sandwich (with ketchup).

Miss you, dad.

Um... I've Been Busy...?

2008-06-06T20:51:00.006-05:00

It's another two-fer, folks. Two-fer! I accidentally read the other day who is in the final, but I think I pretty much forgot, or have been trying to forget.

Without further ado, I give you... TOP CHEF: IT'S ALMOST OVER!

Original airdate: 28th May

Dale's gone. Antonia just wants to know who the finals are already, geez. Stef is happy there are so many girls left.

Quickfire Challenge: Butcher some meat!

Rick Tramonto is the guest judge, and he'll be talking about the meat cutting proficiency as well as cooking technique of said meats. He likes his steak medium rare, he says.

These steaks look amazing. Antonia basted her steak with like, eight pounds of butter. Yum. Rick has a major poker face and isn't talking about the results, which to me look pretty dang rare. Antonia's looks pretty good to me. Stefanie's is the one he liked the least. Richard's butchery was inconsistent and the steak was too rare. Lisa's steak was done well. Spike's butchering was great and the steak was done perfectly. Antonia's crust made for a "perfect" steak, but the honor goes to Spike.

Elimination Challenge: Take over Rick's steakhouse, Tramonto, to make an appetizer and entree using the ingredients found in the kitchen. Spike gets first pick of the ingredients because he won the quickfire.

Spike wants Antonia to go home, he likes Stefanie best of the girls.

Spike has five minutes to pick his protein and picks the same cut of steak he butchered, and also took the scallops (which were frozen... hmm). Lisa gets NY Strip and shrimp. Antonia grabs bone-in ribeye and some veg. Stef is making veal sweetbreads. Lisa is doing something called a peanut butter mashed potato... umm... Richard is doing hamachi, beef tenderloin with sweetbreads.

Spike's scallops are a wreck. They've been frozen and now they're wet and splitting so they won't sear properly. He might be up the creek, here. Chef Tom seems to like the girls, well maybe not Lisa, but he's nice to them. He's rattled Richard's cage by calling his dish conventional. Spike too is questioning his choice when Chef Tom asks him about the quality of the scallops he's using. Tom going to be their expediter which is pretty exciting, actually.

The chefs are cooking for the previous winners. Illan's glasses look stupid. I never really liked him all that much, my money was on Sam.

Lisa's shrimp looks delicious and goes over well. They like Richard's fish and veal a lot, especially Chef Rick. They don't love Spike's scallops. Stef's goes over solidly well. Antonia's salad falls totally flat. Richard's food is coming out too slowly and Chef Tom isn't happy about it. His filet looks gorgeous on the plate but they're sort of irritated at the deconstruction of it all and find it tedious. Lisa's mashed potatoes go over well but they don't like the meat. Spike's meat falls seriously flat. Stef's meat rocks the hizzle. Antonia's meat is going over well.

Oh my goodness my friend Davin is in the restaurant. I saw on his web journal that he was there the night they taped, but I forgot. The irony being: he is a major vegetarian.

Prepare to be judged: I predict Spike is going to pack his knives and go. Let's find out, shall we?

They have a lot of compliments for everyone, but sort of ream Spike for his scallops. I wonder what Chef Rick has to say about having frozen scallops in his restaurant. If it's that high end, why would they not have them available fresh that day? Even Chef Tom says that he should have sent those scallops back. Speak up, Rick! Ah here we go. He calls Rick out for it, Rick calls back and says he made a poor choice by using them regardless of the fact that they were in the walk-in. Zing... Way to shoot yourself in the foot, buddy. Twice.

It's between Lisa and Spike as to who goes home. They're wrestling with it a bit.

The winner is Stephanie, which is great because I think she's the best of the bunch. She wins Chef Rick's cookbook and a line of GE Monogram chef's appliances. Dang. Richard is in. Antonia is in.

Lisa and Spike remain. Lisa's standing there yet again with a puss on, crossed arms and a pursed lips. Spike just looks confused. Aaaand Spike is out. Dang it. I really wanted to see Lisa get the boot. She still sucks.

The final four head to Puerto Rico. Ariba!

NEXT.

Originally aired on 4th June.

Stef, Antonia & Richard say their hellos. Richard has lost weight. Lisa has cut her hair. They observe that Lisa is not the fourth person they thought they'd be with at the end.

Quickfire Challenge: Padma actually uses the word "endgame". Love it. She's so smart and a little goofy. Guest judge is Willow Bennet. Make some munchies for Padma and Willow (though she says "You'll make food for Willow and I"... I take back the "so" in the "so smart" comment). Plantains! I love plantains, the sweet kind, especially deep fried or heated just a bit. So good.

Stef makes tuna/plantain fritters. They like them. Antonia makes crispy oysters with cilantro/plantain jam and a fried plantain. No comment. Lisa makes them some tostones with duck and salsa, plantain fritter with onions and chorizo. No comment. Wacky Richard makes pork meatballs and fried green plantains with salsa. No comment. Geez.

Antonia's wasn't awesome. Richard's also wasn't awesome. Stef's goes over well. Lisa gets a "great job" with a qualifier. The winner is Stephanie (and she just said this is her first quickfire? Really? How can that be?)

Chef Tom says, "It's just not a party without a pig". I love him.

Winner Challenge: Pig Roast at a cocktail party - now, I love pig. As you know. But few things gross me out as much as a pig roast. That is just a horrible, gory looking thing to behold. I'd rather it be killed, processed and in the fridge by the time I get it.

They bring in all the former cheftestants to help the remaining folks do their cooking. Stef picks her sous chefs, Dale for herself. Spike for Richard. Nikki for Antonia. Andrew for Lisa.

Sous chefs go shopping, chefs stay and butcher the pigs. Lisa wants to do Puerto Rican food... which, as Richard points out, is a risky if not stupid, move. The sous chefs are trying to buy food without speaking any Spanish, and without knowing exactly what they should get. Nice.

Lisa's attitude in the kitchen is ruining Andrew's life and everyone else's mood. That's a shock.

Ohhh nooooo they left their dry rubbed pork shoulder out overnight. Stef has to throw it away, Dale feels like a jerk. Stef isn't killing him or yelling, which is cool of her but sort of scary too. I bet she's nice to work for and with. If I was Dale, I'd have been crying.

Antonia is doing pork belly, sausage and curried pork. Dale is making BBQ pork shoulder, ham & ribs. Nikki notices Antonia is off her game. Lisa is doing pork rellena, pork belly and pork tostone. Stef is still working on her third dish... and she's making crispy skin salad, coconut pork and pork satay.

They like Stef's dishes. No comment about Richard's dishes. Lisa's stuff goes without comment as well. Antonia's stuff gets some smiles and questions.

Here come d'judge! They want to see Richard and Stephanie. They loved what they offered, both. The winner is Richard, who wins a friggin car. A 2009 Toyota Corolla. He's shocked. Um, does a year's worth of gas come with that...?

Lisa and Antonia are in front of the judges. Please, people. How many more times can Lisa be up there before they chuck her? Fercripessake already.

And so, it brings us to the penultimate boot fest. PleaseletitbeLisa. The chirping birds in the background is a nice touch. They should always have that. Oh, sorry, anyway we're saying goodbye tonight to Antonia. That is the worst decision ever. What a bunch of morons. Lisa sucks. SUCKS! Jerk... dang I'm so upset.

And of course, Lisa is a terrible winner and made them feel bad for not embracing her immediately with their congrats but are clearly instead, sad that Antonia is gone. Stef's reaction to it is great.

Ok next week I promise to write about the finale a lot sooner than I have been the last month. I predict Stefanie, though mom says Richard.

Bacon, Again

2008-06-03T22:29:00.002-05:00

Just when you thought it couldn't get any more outlandish, overexposed or pretty friggin gross, I give you this:

International Bacon Cookie Goddess

2008-05-31T23:23:00.001-05:00

Memorial Day and Top Chef: A Delicious, Ridiculous Combo Meal

2008-05-26T11:43:00.005-05:00

Ah Memorial Day. I always associate it with Weber grills, beers, friends, lawn chairs and veterans. It's easy to forget that Memorial Day is a time to remember everyone that has passed in whatever circumstances. So today specifically, I remember my grandparents, my father and my aunt. Sadly, if I listed every single person that has lost someone that I know of we'd be here all day and very very depressed.

I am cooking out today, and there will be beers though so the day will be a good one I am sure.

Two Top Chefs for your money today, folks. I'm backlogged. Sadly, I heard through the grapevine about one chef that gets the boot though in which episode, I'm not sure. We'll find out.

Top Chef, episode 9 (originally aired 5/14)

Stef observes the high stakes, she's sad Nikki went down in flames (...um...yeah), Rich is wearing Crocs and is tired, Spike hates Dale, Dale is just like, "whatever man", Andrew is still an idiot, Lisa is silent. But not for long, we're sure.

Hottie Boom Bottie Sam Talbot (season 2) is the guest chef in today's Quickfire, which is salad. Andrew looks like he's still stuck on the first syllable of "salad". Challenge Salad Sexy Back starts now!

Fruit salad, meat salad, too much banana salad, pear salad, spinach mushroom salad with bacon dressing (hi), vegetarian ceviche, poached chicken salad. Richard, Stef and Lisa were not loved. Spike, Antonia and Dale are the favorites. Spike wins with the sexy beef salad... oh so many possible innuendos... so little time.

Elimination Challenge: Cooking for the Chicago Police Academy (will Hightower be there?), something healthy choosing, grains, proteins, fruits and veg all served up in a tasty boxed lunch. Spike gets first dibs at the store because he won - once he picks an ingredient, no one else can use it (but not at the risk of his dish, of course).

Lisa wants to make stir fry (have they learned nothing from the steaming problems of previous challenges?), and I can't believe no one has duct taped Andrew to a light pole in Pilsen yet. Antonia is doing curry beef with rice, Andrew is doing a sushi bowl, Dale is doing lettuce cups with bison in a Vietnamese tradition (the judges have to be getting sick of that), Lisa is doing veg and shrimp (fighting the idea that shrimp is unhealthy due to too much cholesterol - clearly she has never seen a Chicago Police Officer - they do a lot worse).

Lisa's brown rice has been turned up to high and she thinks it's sabotage. Antonia and Dale think it's her own screw up.

Early verdicts: they like Stef's soup, they don't like Spike's lame chicken sandwich, they like Dale's lettuce wrap, they like Antonia's filet, Andrew's sushi is weird and gets an unpleasant look from Tom, Richard's burrito is good, Lisa's stir fry has undercooked rice.

I predict Andrew or Spike (though I think you know who I prefer...)

Andrew has just admitted in the Glad storeroom that he misunderstood the directions (which I'm guessing he's been doing since birth) and did not use a whole grain in his dish - Lisa takes note. Prepare bus for driving over of Andrew as Lisa firmly chucks him beneath it.

Stef and Dale are the top two, Dale wins. He gets a magnum of 2002 Merlot for his win but gets to go to Napa as well. Dang!

Spike, Lisa and Andrew go to the chopping block.

Andrew goes first, and Tom gets that look on his face that he always gets when Andrew talks - part amusement, part irritation. They have a problem with how little and unfilling his food is, and he cusses with an f-bomb during his defense. Sigh, headshake. Spike's ingredient and execution choices are called into question and he's not backing down when Tom goes toe to toe with him. Lisa has no idea why she's in the room, her food was raw and uncooked, she claims someone screwed with her rice again (but that's only one element, which I'm sure they'll point out...yep, they have). Padma asks what else they want to say, Lisa takes that opportunity to rat out Andrew's non-use of grain. Cheap, Lisa. Cheap. Man, she's a jerk. The judges already knew that he didn't use the grains and I hope that they see Lisa for what she is (even though Tom really wants Andrew out of there, I think).

If I may present a question: isn't part of being a chef knowing yourself, your food and your methods of cooking? How can these guys think that their place in front of the judges is completely without merit? And how can they question the opinions of professionals that have been doing what they do for longer and more successfully than themselves? I think more chefs that get up there and are humble stand a better chance of sticking around than these arrogant kids that get all defensive about food that frankly, sucks... ok anyway...

"Botched Lunch"... nice one, Tom. Pack your Ritalin and go, Andrew. He says something about "bowing out" of the competition - um, you didn't bow out, buddy. You got canned. Next!

Top Chef Episode 10 (aired 5/21)

Tom creeps into the Cheftestant home at quarter of 6 am to take them to work the egg station for brunch at Lou Mitchell's. Owner Helene is the quickfire judge, basing her decision on who she'd hire when it's all over.

None of them are doing well, this is not the cushy environment they are used to and it really, really shows. Line cooks are an amazing breed, if you didn't know that already. They can do this stuff in their sleep. Helene thinks they did well, which is suspicious based on her expression the whole time. She'd hire Antonia but mentioned Dale too. She gets an advantage for the elimination challenge.

The cheftestants are given an address (Stef the native doesn't recognize it, and neither do I). GPS to the rescue. Unmarked building, huge space, Padma. Challenge: Restaurant Wars!

Two teams, one shared kitchen. 35 covers (diners), $1500 budget for food, $500 budget for decor from Pier 1... oh great, rattan and bamboo anyone?

Antonia picks Stef and Richard (great call), Dale picks - or gets - Lisa and Spike.

Antonia's team will be an American gastro pub. Stef is FOH, Richard is sous chef. Some seafood, some light meat (lamb), a light dessert.

Lisa and Dale both want to be head chef but it's an Asian restaurant they're making, so he feels like he should be the head. Spike thinks he can weigh in too, and I think we can see how this is going to shape up.

Their menu items: pot stickers, scallops, ribs, Halo Halo flavored ice (which we've seen before).

Bourdain! Bourdain! Bourdain! I love him and would be terrified and honored to cook for him.

Dale should be scared, if there's on thing Bourdain knows it's Asian food. He might be going down for this one.

Each team is given one extra pair of hands via the former cheftestants. Dale picks Jen, Antonia picks Nikki for her pasta abilities.

Dale screwed up his avocado puree. Lisa's rice was taken off the burner by a nervous (head chef) Dale. Their team is built for disaster just by personalities alone. They're already picking and choosing what dishes they want to take credit for and what they'd rather run from.

Antonia's team is good, however the attention to detail is making me nervous. Their clams are gritty but they don't want to divide successes and failures based on individual dishes between each other. Altruism will still get you the boot, loves.

Jose Andres is the other guest judge. Everyone loves the gastro pub so far, though I detect a lot of edited-out "but..."s in the comments. The judges leave the pub happily and ready for an Asian experience.

Not much love so far for Dale's Asian experience, and he is really freaking out in the kitchen. Jen is staying quiet and mellow, Lisa is butting heads with him, Spike is staying out of the fray via FOH. They love Halo Halo, but think everything else is crap.

First up to the judges: Antonia's team, they win. Stephanie in particular, is the winner winner.

Dale's team is in front of the judges, getting reamed. They thought the decor was bad. They did not love the butterscotch scallops (gross), they laksa was too smoky, exec chef Dale was missing from taste buds of the kitchen - these folks aren't standing behind anything they made and are lighting each other on fire over everything. Eek awkward. They peg Lisa's inability to handle criticism, Dale's bad judgment in the food, and Spike's wisdom in staying out of the fire.

Dale gets the heave ho. I'm not sure how I feel about this... Lisa is worse to have around in the long run, bad vibes and all, but Dale as head chef did put himself in the spotlight and performed poorly. I guess I agree with this decision, but he did have a lot of good happening early on, food-wise. Tough call but probably the right one. He's very broken up about it, and frankly I wish he'd showed this side of himself previously.

Happy Memorial Day, folks. Get yourself a beer brat or something - or at least a beer. Cheers.

You're Making WHAT?!

2008-05-20T22:00:00.012-05:00

That's right, people. Chocolate Chip Cookies With Bacon (served under a dollop of vanilla ice cream while still warm, if you like).

(It should be noted that once upon a time, I had the recipe posted in this space. I have since become paranoid and deleted it. It's been adjusted three times, and the third time was the charm. It's done and they are delicious. Take my word for it)

At first bite, I think I needed more bacon. I used about 12 strips chopped fine, but they don't stand up very well to the amount of chocolate chips involved. For next time, two packages and one quarter cup less chocolate chips.

Over all, a decent first attempt. I think it would take a keen set of buds to detect the bacon, but the texture is there. Running across the occasional bacon bit is nice.

Food 360

2008-05-13T22:35:00.002-05:00

I went to London in 2005 in the effort to outrun my 30th birthday. When I went, everyone asked what sights I planned to see and where I planned to go. I only had a few places in mind, where I wound up was fine. The list I did have, and do have, was a food list. I went specifically to eat nine things native or done well, by the Brits. I left without a few, but was really happy with the stuff I did get to try. They found it funny, I might add, that I kept this list with me.

So now when I think about food, I inevitably think about travel. There are some foods that I simply must eat in certain locations, and I sure do hope I'm lucky enough to do it.

The Food List

NYC - the sort of pizza you have to blot with a napkin and then fold to eat
England - Cornish pasty
Scotland - haggis (you heard me)
Mexico - a proper margarita and an avacado with lime and salt, on the beach
Viet Nam - pho & spring rolls
Thailand - panang curry, masaman curry
Japan - sushi
Hungary - chicken paprikash
Hawaii - this is more of a won't have: anything touristy or that involves tourists (pig roasts, poi, luaus, etc)
Northeastern USA - a crab that was caught that day hasn't been flash frozen
France - So far I've loved everything French that I've had, but I'm not excited about eating the offal of the day. I'll do it, because that's what you do when you're there, but I don't want them telling me what it is first
Italy - anything they put in front of me. Specifically, and this goes for France too, bread, cheese and wine in a chair outside on a cobblestone street with children running and laundry hanging overhead. Handmade pasta, handmade sauce, gnocchi, fish

That's it for now. I'll be adding to it just in case I actually do make it around the world someday... but for now, this is it. Oh, and when I do get back to London I will absolutely head to Brighton and once again have the half chicken in a Yorkshire Pudding I had that particular Sunday. Delicious.

Top Chef, episode 8

2008-05-07T21:41:00.002-05:00

Already? Ok I slacked last week, I admit it. The cheftestants are back, welcome to episode 8.

ADHD Andrew and Spike might be gay. And by gay I mean lame and very comfortable with each other in that way that only reality shows make guys. There's something sort of Michael Scott about Andrew... don't you think? Smiley and clueless.

The remaining four women comment on being the remaining four women, the only women to make it to close to the end in the History of Top Chef. Setup? Duh.

Chef Tom is in the room for the Quickfire Challenge. Padma says no more immunity for the Quickfire winners. Dang.

Quickfire Challenge (which begs the question, what's the point?): Two groups of four, relay race. It looks like a prep relay. Sous chef type stuff, which I think a lot of these guys are so that shouldn't be so horrible.

Ah hah! Dale asks the question I always ask when faced with people that don't know how to do the basics like Nikki and her mayo: "how are you still here?" Thank you, Dale. You might be my favorite... especially since I haven't picked one yet.

Boy I **love** Monkfish, but that is the ugliest thing I have ever, ever seen. Ever. I'll still eat the heck out of one though. Bring it!

Dale loses and gets upset about it, punches something and thinks his teammates are fools. Not a good way to start the episode, Daley. Hmm. Ok given what I just said about being my favorite, it's not like I have a thing for dudes with tempers (or short Asians for that matter). I just like that he rolls his eyes at the same time I do and doesn't like who I don't like. Food schmood!

Elimination Challenge: Cater a wedding reception - a STRAIGHT PEOPLE reception! Bravo is so open-minded. 125 guests. Couple runs their own restaurant and are extra picky. Winning team picks the bride, losers pick the groom (do we ever). $5,000 budget, access to Whole Foods and Restaurant Depot (wholesale supply house), 14 hours to do it all, which means working through the night. Someone's gonna get punched and I'm thinking Dale is the one to do the punching.

Oh mama, Restaurant Depot. You need a special license to shop there and I've always wanted to but never been able to. It's basically Costco for the restaurant folk. Food and decor. Such a friggin nerd I am.

I'll spare you the cooking details. Suffice to say, ADHD Andrew is making me crazy with his chatter and his "dude". Sigh. And it appears I spoke too soon about Dale. He is trying to do too many things well, and I always say that can't be done. He's not communicating with his team and he's burned his filets. The team doesn't like him. The cheftestants want to collapse somewhere around 5 am. Fair enough. Also, the background music sounds exactly like the score for American Beauty.

I realize this is a challenge, but I would never accept a bunch of beat down tired chefs making my wedding food. No way.

Gale Gand of tru, is one of the judges. And I'm guessing she's not a fan of the thick-cut, too cripsy bruscetta. That is a food pet peeve of mine, I might add.

Holy crap. Ok let's take a moment to point something out, here. Two things, actually. One, I attended a wedding at that same location last summer and I know that's it because the last name of the groom is the last name of the owner and namesake of the space. Two, the guy that said "let's eat" is the trumpet player for a big band that plays at the Green Mill, a place I used to go every Thursday night when I lived in Rogers Park. His name is Matt Lewis and I had a huge crush on him. Wow... really. Weird. Ok anyway.

Wise move keeping Andrew in the kitchen and away from the guests. Dale looks miserable cooking in there with him, but just tired not stabby.

Judging time and the only person they're practically easing out the door is Dale, based on editing.

First up: bride's team, winners.
Brisket, short ribs bites, pizza, cake, chicken - this bride is the bride I hope to be. Brisket! Richard wins the whole enchilada and honorably gives it to Stephanie who gets a $2K gift card to Crate and Barrel, who honorably splits it with Richard. Aww.

Next: groom's team, losers.
Pasta, fish, pesto, filet, cake - meh. That's nice but it's no brisket. They like Lisa's cake better. They did not like the pasta, the pizza crusts were dry, the filet was overcooked (almost all Dale issues but he doesn't realize that yet). Loved Spike's sea bass. Nikki is getting reamed for not stepping up since she's the Italian menu expert - so it's between those two.

Adios, Nikki.

Huh... that was either some BS editing, or Dale was right when he rolled his eyes at her for not being able to make mayo by hand. Fair enough, temper or not, at least Dale knows his basics and for that he gets props (but he did take too much on and didn't do any of it well - also bad).

Next week: Guest judge prediction is Rocco. Someone's sabotaging the chefs and it's one of their own. He's calling from inside the house!

Top Chef, episode 7

2008-05-06T17:59:00.004-05:00

Holy crap, it's that time of the week again and I'm feeling snarky, kids.

Stephanie notices folks seem to disappearing around here and notes her luck and skill.
Antonia is still in the running.
Kiwi (not Aussie, oops) Mark wants to make some American food (and needs a comb).

Guest chef judge, Oprah's chef: Art Smith - how many chefs does Oprah go through in a year? That sounds like a joke set up, doesn't it?

Quickfire Challenge: fabulous entree in 15 minutes.

Now, first of all, this challenge features Uncle Ben's pre-seasoned and microwavable Ready Rice which takes only 90 minutes to cook. Seriously? Honestly? Wow. Way to lower the bar and feed the judges total slop. Quality my arse.

We have fried rice (two), seafood scallop pancakes, stuffed peppers and tomatoes, miso-glazed turkey breast (Mark: turkey? The driest meat ever?), tuna and tomatoes, and something called rice salad. Weirdo Richard finally mentions tasting food before serving... it only took half the episodes to get someone to say it. Woo!

Bottoms: Mark, Stephanie & Lisa (gohomegohomegohomeyousuck)
Tops: Dale, Richard, Antonia - Antonia wins

Elimination Challenge: Delicious, healthy dinner for four with a $10 budget

$10 at Whole Foods? Ahhh hahahaha! Whole Foods. $10 at Whole Foods is the cost of parking, folks. No family of four that is worried about their money shops at Whole Foods. Geez.

Everyone leans towards chicken except for a few folks.

Antonia calls her daughter who she decides to tell a joke to involving the word "poo"... yeah. Me too. She has immunity but I'm guessing they're setting her up for some critique.

Kids come into the kitchen to "help" cook the meals. The chefs look a little bit irritated except for Antonia who is crying. They're from a charity organization so they can't openly bash them, but you know these people are control freaks and they don't want anyone under food, let's be honest. But, they seem to be enjoying their helpers. One kid cuts himself.

So far the dishes are a little on the fancier non-kid friendly side. Couscous, Chicken Paillard, Curry, Pasta Puttanesca, a few desserts.

The folks eating these dishes are kids from the charity organization they're working with, as well as Chef Tom in the kitchen and Padma and crew out front. The kids are proving me wrong, they're into just about everything especially the Paillard and the Puttanesca.

Kiwi Mark is scared of Chef Tom. He thinks Mark's curry had the piss taken out of it by the Chef and seems to be on the defense - or this is just a lame plot point built into the trailer "for color".

The judges don't love Stephanie's couscous. She seemed a little doomed from the start, don't you think? They set it up a little obviously, we'll see if I'm wrong. They don't like Lisa's food either, not enough veg.

First Up! Andrew, Nikki & Antonia and they are the best of the bunch. The best of the best of the bunch is Antonia.

Next up: Lisa, Stephanie & Mark. Mark thinks he's there because Chef Tom doesn't like him but really it's his crappy curry, they did not at all enjoy Stef's odd couscous and know that she's better than it, Lisa's attitude got her there but technically it was her underseasoning that got the critique.

LaHOOser: Kiwi Mark! I did not see that one coming. Bummer. He seemed like fun. Chef Tom mends the fence before booting him over it.

Next week people have heat stroke, exhaustion and Lisa's crappy attitude while cooking for a wedding. Dale curses loudly and hits something. Looks like fun.

Top Chef, episode 6

2008-04-24T20:05:00.004-05:00

Here we go again. And this time: it's funny.

Gosh my city is pretty. Those bunk beds must just suck, man. Can you imagine? You go from a full, queen or king and then BAM! Twin bed with a guy snoring below you.

Jennifer's back, still doin' it for Zoi.

Tables of sweets. Padma introduces Pastry Chef Johny Iuzzini. I don't really care about pastries and don't eat them, so I'm only as impressed as the cheftestants are with this guy. Pastries have been the downfall, she says. So naturally their job is to create their own downfall.

Quickfire: Impress me with pastries!

Dale makes some coconut shaved ice, Lisa complains again, Richard is making banana scallops... hmm, Ballsy Spike forgoes an easy chocolate molten cake in favor of a souflee (oh, son), Jennifer did chocolate cake with frozen banana skewers, lots of chocolate, some fruit, some fried stuff, some tiny bits of things from the Aussie, a lemon cake yields no response.

Worst: Antonia's lemon cake, Spike's souflee, Mark's what have you.
Best: Dale's shaved ice, Lisa's fried strawberry thing, Richard's banana scallop.

Winner: Richard (and he's now in the Top Chef cookbook... plug plug plug)
La-HOO-ser: No loser! Well... who the heck am I supposed to target for elimination?! I'll just stick with Nikki, she sucks.

Everyone gets to go to Second City. Jennifer and Richard look disturbingly alike.

I went to Second City after my senior prom. I don't know why that sounded like a good idea but that's what we did. It was funny, and I saw some folks that night which are now famous so that's something.

They get popped their Elimination Challenge on stage. Meals consist of five courses. Everyone picks dishes out of a hat and then form their own two-person teams. 10 chefs left, that works out.

Yellow Love Vanilla (ADHD Andrew & Spike making soup)
Depressed Purple Bacon (Mark & Nikki making roasted pork loin)
Magenta Drunk Polish Sausage (Antonia & Lisa making sea bass, chorizo & purple potato)
Green Perplexed Tofu (Dale & Richard making curry)
Orange Turned-On Asparagus (Jennifer & Stephanie making orange, chevre & asparagus)

Boy, Lisa has a serious chip on her shoulder. She doesn't want to "dumb her food down" because she's on the team that happens to have the polish sausage, which she doesn't want to make, so she and sucker Antonia make chorizo instead... ehhh yeah, good luck convincing Tom of your reasoning there. They're saying "improvisation" as the reason to change their dishes - but improv rarely means just ignoring the thing the audience shouts out.

They find out there's no machines. That means no quick prep, no blender, no mixers. Hand-made everything. Ricer, mortar & pestle, hands. Old school, buddy. Let's see what these kids are made of. You wanted to improv? HA!

They have to go home to finish off the food and will then be hosting the Second City folks and judges at their home for dinner. Wow Richard just threw down four metaphors in two sentences. Keeping the fire under the burner, knocking it out of the park and two others. That was impressive.

Oh the pressure of being funny while judging because they're from Second City. Something tells me that pastry chef has no sense of humor...

Good soup, they don't like the orange stuff, the tofu scores big, the girls left off the Polish sausage and no one was impressed, they love love love the pork bacon Aussie - oops, I mean dish.

Lisa sucks. She's the new Nikki but for different reasons... Antonia and she brought out tequila shots for themselves but none for the table, then did them in front of everyone giving them a snarky "sorry". BOO!

Best: Richard & Dale (2nd runner up, Spike & ADHD)
Worst: Antonia/Lisa & Jennifer/Stephanie

Antonia and Lisa get reamed for the chorizo. Have these people never watched Top Chef? Have they never known Chef Tom? Pastry chef wants to know why didn't do the no brainer of a Polish cooked in beer. Lisa wants to talk semantics of "a word" as being the reason she's standing up there. Uhhh a word you chose to ignore, you mean? You SUCK!

Jennifer & Stephanie had too much goat cheese, not enough asparagus or orange. Too much stuff on the plate, ugly looking composition. Bad bread, lacked finesse. Jennifer cops to the cheese and the bread.... oops... she might be joining Zoi pretty soon, here. But I hope it's Lisa. Seriously, she is an energy sucker.

Lisa actually thinks that if she'd have made what she was supposed to have made, she'd get yelled at for making "bar food". Wow... denial train, population one, departing in five.

Wow Jennifer is going home.... oh man that bums me out. She was cool, she isn't a negative jerk and she's sad about it. If they're setting it up for Lisa to go to the finals I'm going to be really upset. That was a terrible decision and I don't agree with it.

But not enough to boycott. See you guys next week.

Top Chef, episode 5

2008-04-20T15:49:00.004-05:00

God versus Ditka in a game a' golf. Ditka.

Spike wants to get to the final four.
Jennifer misses Zoi and thinks she got booted too soon.
Ryan observes everyone is upset because things are "gettin' super tense".
Lisa is still upset because of the Glad Storeroom argument with Dale.
Dale warns Lisa that people are irritated with her griping and moaning. Lisa doesn't care.

Quickfire! Lots of beers. Guest judge Koren Grieveson of Avec (I used to work for the coffee company that does their coffee - their blend was delicious). Challenge is called "Simple Pleasures", creating a dish that pairs well with a particular beer.

This is a boring challenge. I won't bore you with who did what. The beers are sort of all over the place in terms of quality. Michelob, Red Hook, Bass, Tiger, Ichiban, Hoegaarten (the best of the bunch), Stella, Grolsch (which could be hard since it's so skunky). Worst: Nikki, Spike & Dale.
Best: Richard, Stephanie, Jennifer. Immunity winner: Jennifer, doin it for Zoi.

Elimination Challenge: Cooking at a tailgating party for a Bears game.

Spike wants wings, Dale makes ribs, Richard doesn't know how to cook for a bunch of blue collar jamokes so he decides to make "pate melts" (good luck), Nikki makes heros (bad idea), Aussie Mark is making chicken skewers, Metrosexual Ryan doesn't care about you sports fans and is going to make something called "California Tailgate" (yeesh). ADHD Andrew is making some delicious sounding bacon shrimps, Stephanie is going for meat and potatoes, Jennifer is making a chicken suvlaki and a tabouleh for Zoi, Ryan is going apeshite with wine and a few courses. Lisa is doing skirt steak, Antonia is doing jerk chicken.

Nice plug for Weber grills. Mark is using charcoal, everyone else is using gas. Ahhh that is a whole other argument. I'm a charcoal girl, myself. He gets points with me already for that move of "testicular fortitude".

Guest other judge is Paul Kahan of Blackbird (fabulous, you have to go there if you come to Chicago. It's on my list, and Avec is a sister restaurant of it).

The bacon is a hit, predictably. Ryan is working the crowd in a big way, which is wise. I hope his ambitious food matches his schtick (though exit polls say hard to eat). ADHD Andrew is wearing a helmet (appropriate for those that flail about wildly) and they love his shrimps. Richard Dent is interested in the quinois tabouleh. Richard Dent! The Fridge loves him some ribs. Mark is having a hard time with his grill and it's a big old mess. I'm still glad he went charcoal, but folks aren't happy with it.

Nikki ran out of her food by telling people to come back for seconds before the judges had a chance to try it. She's also a horrible salesperson and should not talk, just serve. It sounds like between Mark, Nikki and Ryan (or is it Spike? I'm confusing them - oops, it's Ryan) are the ones most likely to hit the door.

Antonia, Dale & Stephanie are first into the judging room. They are the top three favorites, but the judges loved Dale's ribs the most. The Fridge would be so proud. He also won a Bears jersey and a new gas Weber grill. Gas! Bah!

Mark, Nikki & Ryan are in for the whopping. Nikki didn't make her own sausage and that brought her down a notch, and the judges didn't get half of her dish (because she gave it away... just stop talking, Nikki), plus she put shrimp on the plate for no good reason. I want her to go. Can you tell? Ryan chose a non-tailgating style dessert and basically too much food, and once again Tom looks like he just wants to roll his eyes and shake his head at these kids. I love Tom, he doesn't play. Mark's food was decent but no one loved it.* The presentation was sloppy, he doesn't seem to care about a whole lot. In fact, he looks a little hungover...

Blackbird Chef Paul doesn't like Nikki either. They're all irritated with Ryan's inappropriate menu. Mark's food was just boring and the chefs call him a "disaster".

The verdict: Ryan's packing his knives and going. Fair enough, he had no idea who he was cooking for. It was more about him than Da Fanz.

* They mention that he takes a spoon, tastes off it, puts it back in the pot and serves with it. Let me say that every cook and chef does this. The difference is that they don't do it in front of everyone. So don't be horrified that he did it, be horrified that he did it in front of everyone.

Thai Food is My Food

2008-04-17T17:20:00.006-05:00

I've just made a pretty delicious Masaman Curry dish. Those little $.75 cans of curry base at the Asian grocery stores are great. Throw some coconut milk, fish sauce and protein in there.... delish! Only thing I seem to have to do every time is add cayenne pepper because they're never quite spicy enough for me.

I bought a little bag of kafir lime leaves at an Asian grocery store a while ago, which I keep in the freezer. I rip them a bit and throw them into the sauce while it's simmering, and they make a fragrant, lovely difference. Next time you come across the cans, pick up the Panang or yellow curry. If you love the Thai food, you won't be sorry.

They go best with jasmine rice, I've just discovered. The brown rice isn't really doing much for me. The texture is all wrong, even though I normally love brown rice. It's too nutty for Thai.

Top Chef, episode 5

2008-04-15T00:41:00.004-05:00

Pardon the delay, I've been busy/sick/poor/frustrated/bored/screwing around online.

Onto the fascinating piece of not reality that IS Top Chef!

ALEZ CUISINE!
Oh, wait. Wrong show. I'm sorry.

So far Jennifer, Zoi and Ryan have commented on leaving (or not wanting to, or not seeing why someone would).

Guest Chef: Ming Tsai. I won't comment on his hair lest I be catty. I passed him once at McCormick Place at a food show in Chicago. He's very tan.

Blind Taste Test Quickfire! High end gourmet versus not high end. Which is which? I predict a lot of these folks will fail this. There's a reason that the way food looks is such a big deal around here.

Maple syrup, bacon, crab, chocolate, butter, cheddar, soy, sake, caviar, pork, olive oil. Lowest score, Stephanie. Highest score, Antonia. Jen & Ryan tied for 2nd. That's impressive because people taste at all different rates and ranges. It's important to know the differences in quality, but the margin of error there is pretty tricky.

Challenge: Celebrity chefs preparing a Meals On Wheels with the cheftestants chipping in with a few courses here and there. "Taste, taste, taste," says Chef Tsai. Hint hint hint, says blogger me.

Four elements (fire, earth, water, air), teams of three, cooking for 80 people, $500 budget, with 15 minutes to plan the menu. Considering Whole Foods has the same exchange rate to most grocery stores around here as England does to the US I'd say the chefs' pockets won't be jingling with to much change. Ahhh Whole Paycheck. Good tomato bisque, though.

Fire team wants to grill or do a deviled egg (clever but boring), air team wants to do mousse and foul, earth team is talking about soup...(huh?), water team with wacky Richard the Gastronome wants to do fish.

[Do you ever watch reality shows and all the sudden see someone you've never noticed before even though weeks have gone by? I just did that with Nikki. "...There's a Nikki...?"]

Crazy Richard seems to be taking friendly conversational liberties with Chef Tom. I also think Chef Tom can smell schmooze a mile away and knows Crazy Richard is standing in a pile of it.

Richard's fish had scales. SCALES! Again? Really? How many more times will the scales be part of the dish? Next you're going to tell me they didn't taste their dishes before service. I like how pissed off Tom seems to be getting this season. It's like he's had it with how unskilled their seasoning and flavor combinations have been.

The fire team with their spicy shrimp with bacon is the winner, the judges agree. They're giving the team member most responsible a secondary prize to Italy. Lisa wins, even though she has immunity from the elimination already. Double word score! Hey the girl won for making bacon, and I'm going to stand behind her win for it.

Earth and water are up for elimination. Wacky Richard (earth) is bs'ing about the scales on his fish. You never scaled it, just say it man. Don't tell them you ran it under water thinking that would do the trick. A knife perhaps, but water? No dice. ADHD Andrew answered "of course" to a question, Tom shakes his head and clearly wants him out of there. As do I.

Antonia says the dishes that went out where delish but the judges think it tasted like nothing, except for the rosemary, Zoi's job, of which there was too much. The carpacio was a bad choice, they all agree. Spike is now throwing everyone under the bus because the judges liked his soup but his teammates did not... of course.

And hanging their heads low tonight we have the Earth team, specifically Zoi. I knew they'd break that duo up eventually. Interesting, I thought it would be Richard. Especially after how many times in the history of Top Chef have they railed these guys for scales on fish.

And a little bonus material shows a few folks screaming at each other in the Glad storeroom.

The Streets in Heaven are Paved with Pork!

2008-04-05T22:00:00.006-05:00

Something is happening in Chicago, perhaps all over the country. Smoked pork is popping up all over creation and I for one, see it as a sign that God loves me.

It bothers me that bacon is somehow trendy. It bothers me that there's a bar in Chicago that on Monday nights, allows patrons to buy a basket of bacon for $5. Any establishment that will sell a basket of crappy Oscar Mayer cheap bacon, overcooks it, doesn't blot it and feeds it like slop to the masses should be run out of town naked and covered in honey and fire ants. Little harsh? That depends on how you feel about transgressions against the pig and vigilante justice I guess.

The arguably more legit way to worship the pig is via the smoker, the sauce and the slaw. Pulled pork is my thing, but I know there are brisket folks out there let alone the rib people. My jury is still out regarding St Louis vs baby back, though I think I lean more towards the St Louis. I feel like you get more for your money, and depending on where you get them the fat layer isn't so overwhelming (though I can see why people aren't into them).

Tonight my friend Grace and I went to a new bbq joint on the south side called Honkey Tonk BBQ which was good, the pork was really delicious and tender, but they didn't smoke it for long enough or correctly. There was no smoke ring, and the only smoke smell was in the air and inexplicably, on my skin afterwards. They're trying, they're trying to do it right if not slightly unconventionally, such as serving the items on untoasted cibata bread, but they have to get the kinks hammered out. I love that they're trying though, and if you find yourself in Chicago you should check it out along with the others I'm linking.

Grace owns her own operation out of Galewood, IL, which is a cute little neighborhood west of the city. She operates a converted Winnebago RV our friend Ryan made into a mobile kitchen. She drives the Pig Rig to the Logan Square Farmer's Market once a month in the summer and sells her amazing smoked pork and pork nachos along with Mexican Cokes and other goodies. Friends help her sell, and it's always a ton of fun. It's one of my favorite things about summer, actually.

Check these places out if you ever find yourself in or near Chicago. We know what we're doing!

Smoque
Galewood Cookshack
Honkey Tonk BBQ
Hot Doug (not all pork, but delicious encased meats nonetheless)
Kuma's Corner (specifically the Pig Detroyer, but all their food is beyond amazing)

Top Chef, episode 4

2008-04-03T18:11:00.004-05:00

Previews for this episode: Is the word "transcendent" when used to describe food not used with any sense of irony pretentious? Yeah, me too.

This week, we start out by hearing from the cheftestants. They're missing Erik, their kids, their boyfriends and girlfriends, etc. Manuel misses his kids. The lesbian couple, Jennifer & Zoe, make mention of how lucky they are to be there together. Spike is looking sideways at them as competitors. My reality TV spidey sense tells me one of those girls will go home this week. Just a hunch.

Quickfire Challenge: French chef Daniel Boulud is the guest judge this week. He'll be looking to see who has the best technique, classically speaking. That's tough, since many haven't trained classically. Let it be said that you can be a fantastic chef without being classical, though I think the common thought is that you have to know the rules in order to ignore them successfully.

It's interesting that some of the chefs brought along tools and gadgets. It's more interesting that they let them, considering the likelihood of someone screaming about unfair advantages. Anyway, their dishes are boring in that classical way where it probably took them 10 minutes to cut a radish and fold it to look like a swan but... so what, it's a raw, cut up radish.

Elimination Challenge: Richard Roper is throwing a dinner party with some buddies. The chefs are paired off and each team is given a course to prepare based on a movie title which they pick. The movies are: Willy Wonka (complicated crazy flavors and presentation), il Postino (romantic Italian), Good Morning, Vietnam, Talk To Her (saucy spicy Latin ladies), A Christmas Story (the duck... fa ra ra ra ra, get it), Top Secret! (there's a cow in that movie I guess).

Uh oh, the team with one half of the lesbian couple, Zoe I think, just mentioned that they can't afford more than four lamb chops. That means they "can't mess up on the cutting." Wow, well, I think we know what's going to happen there... four pieces of lamb to serve 12 people? Mistake number one, ladies. Or two if you count being on this show.

The Christmas Story duck team just found out that there is no duck and no turkey at the store, so they're settling for quail. If they haven't told the judges their movie title, now would be a fantastic time to come up with a new movie that features quails. I can't think of a single one, but better to come up with a new one than get the blank stare from Chef Tom, "...uh, there's no quails in A Christmas Story... ."

This French guest chef is a little too hung up with presentation. Everyone else loves what doesn't look so gorgeous on the plates. Especially the il Postino dish. They're not impressed with the Vietnamese. Here comes The Christmas Story... and everyone loves it. The Aussie has a nice accent, I hope he sticks around a bit. That had nothing to do with food, sorry. Ahem.

The lamb (Talk To Her) isn't going over. "Too thin" - that's because you have half a chop. Not Spanish enough, they're saying. The Top Secret! girls are doing some NY Strip and the eaters think it's lovely. That steak does look delicious. Perfectly cooked, and they used an interesting-sounding reduction sauce. Sweet and sour, with the reduction on the plate and another sauce on the side to be added at the table. Clever.

Time to judge. Big love for Willy Wonka and Top Secret! Willy Wonka Wins. Woo!
No love for Talk To Her and Good Morning, Vietnam. Good Night, Vietnam. Go hug the kids, Manuel.

Does anyone else think Richard and Jennifer could be brothers?

Top Chef, episode 3

2008-03-27T00:25:00.004-05:00

*We're skipping a week. I was on vacation and saw it, so my first-blush reactions won't count*

3rd episode, 26th March, minus two cheftestants.

Opening talk, boys screwing around in the bedroom (bunk beds... kill me), girls missing the one that got the boot last week. Ironic talking about changes in perceptions of lady chefs while at the same time drawing attention to two lesbians in the house. Yeah, way to play both sides there, Bravo.

Enter the kitchen for the quickfire challenge. My buddy Rick Bayless is with Padma. I pass him on the street sometimes and he seems terribly nice. Their challenge is recreating the taco. Eric is annoyed someone's trying to make them create fancy food out of Mexican food since it is inherently casual. Hmm, he should chat with Chef Rick... he lives in a really fancy pad making street food nice.

Duck tacos. Jicama taco shells. Pomegranite/jicama salad - is jicama the new thing and I don't know it?

Chef Rick has pointed out the amount of street tacos in the mix. He wanted higher class. Eric again with the bad presentation and lip about street food isn't fancy. He's on his way out soon - or he's the new Marcel who refuses to do anything anyone says and goes to the final anyway. Richard wins with his wacky jicama-shelled taco and it's going on the menu at Topolobompo (I intend to go there and see). Nice one.

The elimination challenge requires the cheftestants to ransack a neighborhood's pantries in order to prep food for their block party the next day. Picnic fare: sliders, mac & cheese, pasta salads, something called a 'sexy drink' which includes lavender, mini corn dogs, a Waldorf salad (which I love) but Chef Tom has just thrown a curveball by telling them that their replacement white balsamic might backfire as mayo is what keeps the ingredients fresh - though might also kill people. Tomato, tomahto.

Hmm, smore on a stick. That would be a great restaurant dessert, actually. And not that make-your-own contraption either.

Judging time. Some snobby guy in a hat just told the judges that they were cooking for "middle America", not the four judges with specially honed tastebuds. Nice, man. Way to insult anyone that actually likes to eat that happens to be from the Midwest and way to cook for people that aren't deciding your fate. They did dumb down their food. Shame on them. Go work for Applebee's where you'll never have to care about what you serve or who you impress.

And they booted snarky Eric with the soggy mini corn dogs. He makes them all the time in his restaurant, but he knew they would go soggy in a portable steamer. Fair enough, he was an arrogant loose cannon who would never have taken criticism with any sort of grace.

And next week we have the kid with ADD annoying everyone. Maybe he can make himself a Ritalin souffle.

Sigh...... Top Chef

2008-03-14T01:31:00.002-05:00

The reason I love Project Runway so much is because I've sewn and I know what goes into designing, marking, adjusting, tailoring, seam ripping, blah blah. I appreciate what it all takes to make an outfit let alone in two days (though I wonder if it really is two days and they're really the ones sewing).

My beef with Top Chef (beef... chef.... get it) is the insult to the audience. That's not real cooking, that's not a real situation a chef would find themselves in and this time, it's not a good way to show off Chicago.

And with that, I will begin my weekly update of this post based on my observations in real time as I'm watching the show (via the TiVo, most likely). Not so much about the contestants unless they strike me or something they create is amazing, but its representation of the city. My city. (PS, I'll say it now: Chicago is called the Windy City because of the politicians, not the wind. We have no more wind than anyone else. This quote is attributed to Mark Twain, though we're not sure. I say this because someone is bound to say something about the wind, and I will be rolling my eyes.)

Episode One: They took them to Uno? Really? Like that place isn't touristy enough. It's not even tasty pizza. And now they make their own deep dish. I wonder if they even know how to make a proper deep dish (layers bottom to top: crust, cheese, toppings, sauce, sprinkle of parm).
Hot sauce in the sauce? Gross.
MARMITE in the sauce? WHAT!
Uh oh some girl just said she's Italian therefore she can make a good deep dish. I hope someone tells her Italians don't know what the crap deep dish is...

Wow a lot of them really have no idea how to do this, proportionally. I'm a bit spoiled because I worked at Gino's East for several years. I could have cleaned up in this challenge!

Rocco... how funny. I'd love for Bourdain to get in the same room with him after his thoughts on what happened to Rocco's career as cited in 'Nasty Bits'. Interesting.

Not nearly enough sauce... these guys are all about toppings. That pizza should be ooooooozing cheese and sauce.

Elimination Challenge: Go head to head with someone of your choosing, using a list of pre-selected menu items. Souffle.... interesting.... Steak au Poive, whomever tries that and fails is going home. Same with Eggs Benedict and the Duck L'Orange - those dishes are classics and if one major part goes wrong it's a big deal. Chicken Picatta. Crab Cakes. There's a lot of room for error in the Lasagne as there is no standard recipe. The Aussie is getting the duck but doesn't realize there's a way to do it. He just thinks it's duck and orange, "how hard can it be?" Uh oh.

They can't find mayo. Make your own, son. You are a chef, after all. Oh geez he doesn't know how. And what cooking school did you say you went to...?

Ooh! Ha ha! There's Bourdian as a judge! You people are getting no mercy. It's time to judge. I won't bore you with the results unless they're interesting.

Wow they really hated the Picatta dishes and apparently the Souffles. Ouch. Ahh good old Chef Tom laying down the knowledge. He's told these folks what we keep thinking season after season - they have no grasp of the classics and need to go back and learn them before they can appreciate their precious foams and what have you. Amen!

Thomas Keller's Bouchon, Las Vegas

2008-03-08T16:27:00.011-06:00

Besides the sunshine, what I looked forward to the most in Las Vegas was dining at Bouchon. Thomas Keller has a reputation in the culinary world for, well, perfection. Innovation, yes, but he seems to prefer to leave the real experiments to guys like Homaro Cantu at Moto. What I noticed at Bouchon, and what I hear about French Laundry is that he's far more interested in ingredients, detail and quality.

Let's begin with the begin. Aaron made reservations for us for Monday at 9:15. We arrived a few minutes early after wandering open-mouthed through the Venetian in the wrong direction. They have hidden Bouchon in the upper reaches, accessible only by elevator and down a long hallway. You would never know you were in a casino, and I'm guessing that's exactly the point.

Upon entry and past the host stand, is the oyster shucking area, displaying five varieties of oysters and some mussels. Past that, is a classic zinc bar with dark-stained wood chairs and shelves behind the bar itself. It took us a little too long to get the bartender's attention, which put a strike against them in Aaron's mind - I was a bit more forgiving. Or I just didn't want to see anything bad and chose to ignore it, which is probably more accurate. Either way, we got our drinks (I chose to go with a glass of Veuve Clicquot champagne - very buttery, with lovely apple notes and a crisp finish) and took them to a little lounge area they have across from the oyster prep area. We were shown our seats shortly after.

The warmth of the room was wonderful. My photo has a yellow tint because I didn't to use a flash, but the idea is the same. We were lucky enough to sit in a corner table, with a bench on one side and chairs on the other. The tables were not spaced far apart, but it felt more intimate than intrusive. I particularly love the chair backs, but I'm weird like that I think. The menus arrive printed on brown paper, folded around the napkins. They are a little large and cumbersome when opened, and there is a lit candle on the table, but luckily there were no mishaps. Still, I had hoped to take one with me but they were collected as soon as we placed our orders.

We ordered a half dozen assorted oysters and a sampling of mussels. I am not really a mussels fan, but I was happy to try them there. They were chilled, which took Aaron by surprise, but I thought the chill really brought out what I presume to be is their natural flavor. I've only ever had them in various sauces. I can see why people like them, but I'll leave them for the fans. The oysters however, were fantastic. I could actually taste the sea, which I have never been able to say. They were the only oysters I've ever eaten that didn't require a loosening from the shell, no matter the type of establishment.

Our server was fantastic. She was friendly and completely on top of her game. She told us of the specials right away and recommended if we were interested in any of them, to let her know so she could tell the kitchen to hold an order as they were running low. As soon as the words 'monk fish' were out of her mouth my ears all but closed. I'd had some monk fish at a place near home, actually just a bite of a friend's, and couldn't stop thinking about it - that was three years ago. I'd never seen it on a menu since, and that's all I needed to hear. Aaron ordered his litmus test for all French restaurants, Steak Frites. We also ordered some mac & cheese and a bowl of the special soup, Cream of Cauliflower. They were both fantastic. The mac & cheese had some nutmeg in it and a few different cheeses, and the soup was nutty and smooth.

The wine list was large without being overwhelming, and had some wonderful selections. The prices were exorbitant though so we didn't go with the sommolier's recommendations for half bottles and just went with a glass each of what best matched our dishes. They were both great, no regrets.

Aaron wasn't happy with his choice of entree, and he had good reason. The steak was thicker than either of us had ever seen prepared for that dish. Close to an inch thick rather than the more typical quarter-to-half inch, and not very peppery. The fries were also pretty typical and seemed like they could have been from anywhere. He said he felt he should have gone for the pork tenderloin special, in hindsight. My monk fish was excellent. It was meaty, still on the backbone and cooked to perfection. It was so delicious I can barely recall how it was prepared. I think it had been perhaps poached then seared on the grill lightly, and the sauce was light, a little citric and complimented perfectly without competing with the fish itself. It also came with a slice of doughy, eggy bread. Our server said it was very similar to the type of bread they serve for their version of French toast, which was a pretty good endorsement for trying the breakfast menu.

For dessert, we ordered some coffees and sweets. Neither of us had the room, but if there's one thing the French are masters of, it seems to be pastries and custards. Aaron ordered his other favorite dish (besides his date, ha ha), creme brulee. It did not disappoint. I imagine it was exactly like it should always be, and that's all I can say about it. I ordered their namesake, bouchons.

Bouchons are small pastries, either puff or brownie as far as I can figure it, and these were topped with house-made chocolate, vanilla and mint ice creams. The ice creams were better than the brownies, I have to say. I was so full I barely put a dent into the poor things. Aaron's creme brulee however, was demolished. And I helped demolish it, proudly.

We left stuffed and happy. I stopped to pick up the copy of the French Laundry cookbook near the entry as we left, and the manager said that Keller had been in the week before autographing copies. As much as I'd have liked to have met him in the flesh, I was happy tasting his inspiration. I can highly recommend Bouchon, and next time I'm in Las Vegas I hope to go there again, though this time for breakfast.

Here we are, happily waiting for our food.

Las Vegas: Culinary Destination

2008-02-17T20:12:00.004-06:00

Better eating and more active makes more better Penny update: the eating part is going well, but so far the only difference I've noticed is a slightly smaller circumference measured by my black leather western-style belt. By a notch. Not much to sing about, but at least it's something. It's been hard motivating myself to go down to the gym, but I'm trying to keep with it.

Onto more exciting things:

Who on the good Lord's green Earth would have ever thought chefs all over the country, notable and accomplished chefs, would be adding Las Vegas to their list of locations without losing any credibility? Even Bourdain embarked on that investigation with a substantial amount of cynicism loaded into his pen.

My wonderful boyfriend surprised me with a plane ticket for Las Vegas on Valentine's Day, because he's being sent there for work on the 17th of this month and requests my company. He's never seen Vegas before, and it broke my heart that he'd be seeing it alone for the first time - which I mentioned, luckily he thinks like I do.

The 70 degree sunshine is certainly encouraging, as is the year-round heated pool and rooftop bar. So much is attractive about hitting up the desert during Chicago's brutal month of February - but none so much as getting to eat in a future (and living) legend's restaurant: Thomas Keller's Bouchon. Some people would be starstruck seeing Brad Pitt walking around the Strip or Tom Cruise yelling at people in line at the pharmacy. Me? Chefs. Actually, not really chefs as people, but their creations.

I've never been through a fine-dining experience. I've had great service, I've imagined what it must be like to be taken care of in such ways as I've heard about when it comes to proper fine dining, but I myself have never had the pleasure. I won't lie to you though, I worry about being hungry afterwards. Teeny tiny food, even if it is 25 pieces of it, all but guarantees a stop at the buffet on my way up to the room. I was considering Joel Robouchon's L'Atelier, but the more photos I see and the more reviews I read about it, the more I'm convinced I'd rather eat something heartier than a single fig wrapped in basil, kissed with essence of lotus blossom. Ok, that's not a real item from the menu but you get my drift.

I'm a girl that likes to eat. I can put away a big fat burger cooked medium rare with fries and a few beers (hence the 'new way of living') without thinking twice. In fact, I'm heading to a bacon-based three-course prix fixe on Thursday. No shame. However, if I or someone I love is going to spend so much money on my dinner I want to leave satisfied and very happy. Then again, when I'm somewhere with someone that I love, whether they're paying or not, or we go to Jimmy John's or French Laundry - I'm satisfied and happy.

I will report back on my experience, of course.

Doing Penance

2008-02-08T00:14:00.000-06:00

You can't love food without being a little bit punished for it. Right? Well, not so much when you're little - then you can eat 30 pounds of candy then two hours later eat three pieces of mom's cheese-oozing lasagne and STILL lose weight.

But... we get old(er) and things start to slow down and we start to mourn our days of consuming candy and three pieces of lasagne with reckless abandon. (Well, I don't mourn the candy so much but I do often find myself thinking about gallon-sized Slurpees. I can also still put away as many pieces of lasagne as you got)

So the time has come, thanks to stepping on mom's scale, to make a change. I'm not saying no more bacon, I'm not saying I'll never again dive into a pint of Ben & Jerry's Pistachio! Pistachio! but for the next 12 weeks I'm going to do all I can to stop jiggling and squishing. Don't get me wrong: I think it's best to be shaped like a woman and I'm lucky to be so. I have the curves and what have you, but I started to get upset with perhaps the amount of curves, and how my clothes weren't fitting.

Thanks to a good friend that has set me up with a workout and eating routine, I'm going to try to get a handle on all this. He has kindly built in my indulgences one day a week (just so they aren't over-indulgences, of course). I can't help but now notice though, how completely bombarded we are with poor food options. Ready-made, soaked in oil and fat, fried, salted, and more unpronounceable ingredients than you can write on the side of a stick of butter. Don't even get me started on fast foods. Bourdain compares the empire behind fast food to crack dealers. They don't eat the food they manufacture through their company because they know how bad it is for them - just like crack dealers don't live in the neighborhoods they sell to. They know there is poison in the well.

There's a reason people don't cook these days, and it's not always because of time or skill. Produce can be expensive and has to be replaced weekly. Controlling portions means eating less and being hungry more often - but no more reaching for the microwave popcorn when the pangs start late at night. It's all for a good reason though, and I'm looking forward to the results. I will of course, keep you posted.

Get Back In The Kitchen, Woman!

2007-11-06T14:17:00.000-06:00

English chef Gordon Ramsey started a campaign last year to Get Women Back Into The Kitchen. As one would imagine from the sound of it, it has caused a stir. I've been watching his show The F Word wherein he mentions this campaign often, trying to understand his angle.

Gordon has a soft spot for women. He's not a cheeky flirt like Jamie Oliver, but he seems to soften a bit when they're around, so my immediate reaction to hearing the name of that campaign isn't one of offense but one of curiosity. He often sings the praises of women's attentions to detail and natural grace, but is quite offended observing what women are cooking for themselves and their families. I presume he sees those talents being wasted and misdirected - or rather, not directed in as useful a manner as they once were.

Entire cupboards are filled with Baked Beans, freezers bursting with frozen dinners, and woman after woman that does not know how to make a basic bread or omelet. Now of course knowing these things does not make you more or less of a person, but what Ramsey is saying is that not knowing them does mean you contribute to the dying art of home cooking. Men dominate the cooking shows and professional kitchens, and I believe that is due in large part to the natural competition that has been created in the industry with Michelin stars and television travel programs. Even Ramsey's wife has stated that she thinks he is in part to blame for women's intimidations in the kitchen. Cooking from scratch is daunting, especially when you see people on tv saying things like, 'all you need are five fresh porcini mushrooms and some fennel tops'. If you don't know where to even get those things, you won't know what to do with them; and having some gorgeous, smug chef telling you 'it's dead simple' makes a person give up and turn on the microwave.

Our mothers wouldn't dream of serving us meals out of boxes and bags almost every night of the week - just as they wouldn't allow us to eat them in front of the television or up in our rooms. The new generation of mothers and families it seems have to be this way because of a dual income household, or just the many things that sidetrack us from being able to eat together. I believe like in all things, there will be a return to tradition, but I do get a little sad that women are naturally offended by the simple and factual statement that there just aren't that many of us that embrace cooking as a legitimate and important expression of time and care - let alone the simple economic sense that cooking makes rather than buying all our food out.

Ramsey is onto something. It begins in each home and I'm not sure his national movement is going to spur anyone into the kitchen, but I get where he's coming from and I agree with him.

I Have Seen The Future...

2007-10-05T00:38:00.000-05:00

...and it is: Bacon Salt. Bacon salt! Salt! Flavored like bacon! But without bacon... it's vegetarian, fat and calorie free! Woo! My best friend and I bought a small fry and one single White Castle hamburger tonight, and during the first taste test discovered that while the fries were good, the burger was better. The bacon salt requires a good, solid base with dimention - not quite enough for fries, but perfect with the burger. This stuff is serious. It's life-changing, even. http://www.baconsalt.com/

On a more disappointing note, I picked up the Blue Moon 'Harvest Moon Ale' variety. It was very cold when I sipped it, and not much was happening besides just a hearty ale. It has since sat next to me for a while slowly warming up, and now that I try it I can taste a bit of the clove, nutmeg and allspice the label promises. Pumpkin however, not really. I find that few pumpkin beers deliver what you want them to. There is this one though, and I can't remember who makes it, but I have a call into a friend to find out. When I do, I'll let you know - it's completely worth checking out.

Tomato Sauce Adjustment

2007-09-26T00:37:00.000-05:00

I made another batch of sauce the other day, and substituted diced tomatoes for crushed and I gotta say... bad call. That won't happen again. Not only is there too much water in diced tomatoes so the sauce winds up chunky and watery (rather than a nice smooth mix of the two), but the skins can pose a myriad of problems. Sadly, I made enough for two decent-sized Tupperware containers full; one to freeze and one to keep in the fridge. I'm going to have to eat it before tackling another, but I'm considering whole canned tomatoes plus crushed along with one can of sauce. I like it chunky, but not too much... hmm, so the whole ones might not be the best call. I'll let you know.

Ratatouille

2007-09-10T23:15:00.001-05:00

Aaron and I went to see Ratatouille at our local $3 theatre tonight. I knew, because of reviews, that it wasn't necessarily a kids movie and that it had just a few foodie things in it here and there that made it slightly inaccessible to the average Pixar audience. I agree only in part. There were several details that didn't put it over the heads of Joe Moviegoer, but that so completely made the movie speak to those that noticed those details. They were details such as:

Mircoplane zester/fine grater
Dansko chef clogs and checks
I counted at least five specialty knives (paring, cheese, Santuko, chef's, bread)
Notable great years in wine production mentioned by name
They did a great job of drawing the various types of cheeses for automatic recognition

The storyline plodded along in parts, but towards the end there is a scene in which someone tastes something and suddenly the camera rushes forward into the person's eye where we see them a small child standing in their childhood home with tears in eyes after a bad day. Mom brings them inside, sits them down, and feeds them exactly what they're eating at the moment of the flashback. To anyone else, it's a flashback. To me, it was like at that moment, I was completely connected to what that character was feeling and knew exactly what it was to eat something and feel like home in your soul. I had tears in my eyes. I imagine only certain types of people that saw that movie had that same reaction (if any. I admit to my eccentricities).

*********************

On a different note re: the Garden - tomato blight in both crops. Peppers ready to be picked without further sun scalding due to a piece of black tulle folded over itself and clipped into place. Six tomatoes ready to be picked, at least 10 grape tomatoes as well though their plants both look dead except for the few outward branches with fruits on them. Resilient, but still sad to see.

The Best Cookies

2007-08-11T13:57:00.000-05:00

I don't have a sweet tooth, but I love to bake. I suppose that's a blessing, huh? Well, it is unless I have an intense urge but can't do anything about if I can't find someone to take three dozen cookies out of my house... or a layer cake... or brownies... but a red velvet cake, now that would stick around as long as I could keep it.

I've made one carrot cake in my life, and the next person that gets that out of me better be giving me a ring or cruise tickets. What a pain in the butt that was. I want to make a spice cake which I see in boxed mixes at the store, but again, what will I do with a whole cake? Make friends, huh? Still, it's a gamble - it's not like you can freeze it if you don't make friends, right? Right.

There is one thing that when made, I have no problem finding homes for - if they don't make it down my throat first. Sadly, I didn't invent this recipe but it's very much worth passing on. The trick to these cookies, is salt. Salt brings out the beauty and richness of chocolate in a way that nothing else does - to the point that I've been out to a tapas place where they gave us a dessert fondue with fruit and a warm chocolate ganache for dipping. I ditched the fruit, dipped a spoon in the warm chocolate and sprinkled a bit of salt on it before eating. It made a tremendous difference in the flavor - and not just breaking up the sweetness in it, but something else I can't explain. There are certainly scientific reasons for why it works, and I'm sure that's all fascinating stuff, but frankly - the tongue knows and that is good enough for me.

Ina Garten's Chocolate White Chocolate Chunk Cookies

Ingredients:
1/2 lb (2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temp
1 c brown sugar, packed
1 c granulated sugar
2 t vanilla extract
2 eggs, room temp
2/3 c unsweetened cocoa (I like Nestle)
2 c flour
1 t baking soda
1 t kosher salt (use kosher - bigger granules, *important*)
1 1/2 lb white chocolate chunks, coarse chopped - or chips, they're ok too

Preheat oven to 350 degrees

Cream butter and both sugars until light and fluffy. Add vanilla, then eggs, mix. Add cocoa, mix. Sift together: flour, baking soda, salt, then add to chocolate mix until just combined. Fold in white chocolate pieces.
Drop dough on cookie sheet, greased or lined with parchment. Dampen hands and flatten dough balls slightly.
Bake for 15 minutes exactly, remove from the oven and let cool on pan slightly before moving to cooling rack. They will seem slightly underdone at 15 minutes, but that's what you want.

Pre-Cooking, But Still...

2007-08-01T14:23:00.001-05:00

I am foster-parenting my friend Kathy's vegetable garden (two varieties of tomato, basil, oregano and purple sweet peppers). All has been fine so far; I've been cutting back, giving away and using the herbs like crazy. The first picked tomato was delicious!

However. Apparently there is something called sunscald which is my own friggin fault... the peppers were exposed to direct sunlight in humid conditions and blamo, next thing you know they're spotted and toasted and are now prone to a secondary fungus. I'm going to have to rig up a sheet or some kind of shading system so the new peppers stand a fighting chance. Bugger!

Here's what sunscald looks like, in case you run into the same problem:

Anthony Bourdain and the Zen of Abalone

2007-07-31T01:00:00.000-05:00

I just watched Tony in Japan eating at a sushi bar that was literally the size of my bedroom. He was so blissed out by the fresh fish and shellfish he was eating that there wasn't really much talking going on in the segment itself (besides a voice over of him describing how it was so good he didn't want to talk to the camera). He ended it with a quote that I think sums up my attitude of economic decadence when it comes to good eating:

"I learned something.... that it IS ok to blow your money on meals, because at the end of the day it's not just the food. It's all of the things, all of the people and all the experiences that comes with it."

I keep a running, ever-changing list of things I'd do if I won 10 million dollars. I know, that's weird, but after tithes, charities, debts, college funds for the nieces and nephews and a new house for mom, I'd plan an enormous riotous meal with friends. Food is the ultimate leveler. It's great because everyone has to eat - but to eat well, truly well, is comprised not just of what's on your plate or in your glass. It's the company, the service, the environment, even the music playing. It's a total sensory experience and there are only one or two other things in life that are like that... and folks are just as obsessed with them as I am with eating well. Or at least creatively.

Weirdo Ice Cream

2007-07-27T12:32:00.000-05:00

I went through a phase a few months back after purchasing an ice cream maker on sale. I decided to experiment with odd but delicious (we hope) flavor combinations that at first make you cringe, then make you eat a pint in one sitting. I only got as far as 'Hot Chocolate' then had to pack up and move - I haven't made a second attempt yet. Hot Chocolate turned out pretty amazing though, and while I'm still working on the recipe the general idea is this:

Vanilla ice cream base (whipping cream, 2% milk, sugar)
Cocoa powder
Cinnamon
Clove
Ginger
Cayenne pepper

So it wound up looking like chocolate with specs of stuff in it, but the more you ate it the hotter the back of your throat would get - but it was ice cream, so you ate more to cool down your throat, but it would get hotter, and on. Ahh the marketing genius! No, honestly, I had to put it away after one or two spoonfuls because it was just that addicting.

I have other ideas which I still need to develop a flavor mix for, but they are:

Balsamic vinegar & strawberries
Lemon verbena & pepper
Basil & cantaloupe
Avacado & lime

And that's about all I have for now... if the two degrees I have and mountain of student loan debt means that one day I'll be an ice cream mogul and not an art historian, artist or advertising queen then well, I hope I'm happy. At least I'll be able to design my own labels and market myself appropriately.

Comfort Food, pt 1

2007-07-12T09:56:00.000-05:00

I find that the things that go the furthest are also the sauciest. When I know I have to make food in bulk to last through a poor spell, blind ambition, etc I always go for either sloppy joes or tomato sauce. My tomato sauce recipe has been through ongoing adjustments, but here's what I have to the best of my recall:

I'm not brand loyal, if it's on sale I'll buy it, but I am growing to love Red Gold - just make sure whatever brands you buy are not pre-seasoned.

Penny's Tomato Meat Sauce

1 16 oz can crushed tomatoes
1 8 oz can tomato sauce
1/2 small can tomato paste (though get the tube if you can find it - it keeps much better)
add 1/2 cup water or red wine if you prefer a thinner sauce

1 lb ground beef, browned with grease drained

1T Salt
1/2t Pepper (freshly ground, ideally)
1T Italian seasonings, dried
1t dried onion flakes
5-8 garlic cloves, minced
Basil, fresh, 4-8 leaves whole or chopped to your preference
Oregano, fresh, 6 leaves chopped or bruised
1t sugar if you prefer a sweeter sauce

After draining grease from the meat, add crushed tomatoes, tomato sauce & paste
Then add garlic and allow to warm about 5 minutes
Add all herbs and seasonings except for fresh basil and oregano
Stir and bring to a simmer for 15 minutes, covered
Add fresh herbs, cover and simmer another 15 minutes

Sauce freezes nicely, though if you prefer a thinner sauce you may want to reheat it with some water or red wine as it tends to thicken.

************
I bought some spaghetti at Costco at least a year ago and, if you've bought in bulk, it seems to have the effect of Jesus feeding the 5000 in that no matter how much I use I still have a few bags left... it's quite good too, I have to say. I love fresh pasta when I can find it, but it can be pricey for how much you get. I haven't tackled making my own yet, though it's on the To Do list. I think for this sauce, thin pasta works best. Fettuccine, linguine, spaghetti though probably not angel hair. Large tubed pasta would be yummy but I think you'd get the sensation of eating chili more than pasta sauce, because of the chunky factor of the sauce itself.

The Sloppy Joe recipe is very easy, and everyone loves it. It's my mom's and it's seen us through many dinners, picnics, approaching autumns and is usually quite a find when a Tupperware of some appears from the back of the freezer.

************

Mom's Sloppy Joe's

2 1/2 lb ground beef
1 med yellow onion, finely chopped
1 c ketchup
1T vinegar
2T brown sugar (packed)
1/2t dry mustard (I like Coleman's)
3T Worcestershire sauce
water as needed

Brown meat and onions together, drain grease
Add all other ingredients and blend well

Simmer 2 hours, stir occasionally, adding water to thin as needed

Makes about 15 sandwiches, can be doubled without adjusting measurements

How Does One Become Obsessed?

2007-07-10T00:04:00.001-05:00

Hi. I'm Penny. I live in Chicago, I cook for fun, for my friends and family, and if you try to make me follow a recipe I can almost guarantee you that I will screw it up. Cooking from scratch and by the seat of my pants is my favorite, but that doesn't work for baking... so anyway, why on Earth would someone devote a website to food? Because it's one of the most basic, fabulous pleasures of life. An expression of love, in all languages. Not just fuel for the machine.

My earliest memories are in the kitchen. I wasn’t cooking much as a kid, but I was observing a whole lot. My family was the kind where dad went to work before the sun was up and a few hours later mom woke us up for school and was home when we got back. Dad got home at 6:30 and ta da dinner was served. Six days a week, with mom taking Friday night off for fast food or Sunday when they took us out. That’s a lot of dinners together.

I’m the youngest of three girls. The eldest was never the domestic type, in fact that was a word that made her shiver at the thought. My middle sister was the sporty one, almost never cooking unless it was whatever she learned in home ec that week - crepes, omelets, fudge. I, for some reason, always had a penchant for hanging out with mom in the kitchen and watching her miraculously get everything on the table at the same time while it was still hot. It was fascinating, and in the seventh grade I was given - or bought, I’m not sure - my first cookbook. It had a recipe for hamburgers formed with onions in the mix and then pan-fried in Worcestershire sauce. They were a hit - or the family was just being nice. Either way, watching them eat something I’d made pretty much sealed the deal.

My grandmothers had completely different kitchen styles. They both lived in opposite walking distances from our house, and were a frequent summer destination, especially my dad’s mom’s since our cousins lived down the street too and were close in age. We’d scramble in front of her little Lane Dutch Revival tables (two of them, for cousin CJ and me) and wait for lunch.

She’d bring out a plate of summer sausage sandwiches, cold, with little knobs of cold butter. And maybe a glass of 7-Up with a cherry in it if she had them. That was it. The best things she made were cold... now that I think about it. Summer sausage sandwiches, a mean Waldorf salad and Hungarian sweet and sour cucumbers. I’ve figured out how to make those cucumbers and they’re requested almost every holiday that grandma would have made them. There is no written recipe, and only a few of us have bothered tinkering long enough to figure it out - it is now solely my job. I like that.

My mom’s mom, or Gigi, as my nieces started calling her, was a kitchen dynamo. Fueled by at least one cup of percolated coffee a day, As The World Turns, Readers Digest, Uncle Bobby and her daily dose of the Cubs, she fed us some of the best childhood staples a grandmother can. Kraft mac & cheese (spiral shaped, only), Fresca, Apple Jacks and homemade cookies were the things we asked for the most when visiting. She made her own pickles, dill and bread n’ butter, excellent fudge, and every Christmas she made two types of cookies which we happily cut with her antique (to us, original to her) cookie cutters, and decorated. She made us all quilts, one for when we were kids on our twin beds, one for our ‘marriage bed’s and one for our first children. I found out after she passed that there is indeed a baby quilt for me in my mom’s attic for whenever the time comes.

My mother’s cooking was completely influenced by her upbringing. She has two younger brothers and had a mother that worked a few jobs to keep food on the table. She started preparing lunches and dinners before grandma got home, and pretty much never stopped. She has a reputation amongst her peers as being a great cook, though to her it’s just what she does. What she has to do. She has to feed people. Period. And we’re not even Italian.

So why Julia Child, you ask? Some of my favorite tv shows as a kid (and even now, actually) were cooking shows. Julia Child and Jeff Smith ruled my Sunday afternoons. Julia taught me the joys of monkfish, how to behead a goose and most importantly how to laugh at yourself and the million little ways the kitchen can sabotage the cook. I always thought that Jeff Smith seemed like such a kind man that truly enjoyed just basic cooking. I don't know if he did what they say he did, but I hope not.

So that's the beginning. The rest won't be so long, I just thought I'd take a moment and introduce myself. Hi.