i8tonite

Category: Food

I8tonite: Aromatic Chicken and Goodbye to Hollywood

I’ve feel I’ve discovered something about myself; as much as I love the idea of being a steady beacon in a sea of waves, I might be incapable of it. I mean being that stay-in-one-spot type of person. I think that’s what a parent is, someone that you know will be there. I see that in my friends who are parents…hell, I see it in my friends who aren’t parents. They wake up, they drink their tea and go to work, some with kids in tow.

Me? I wake up. I drink my coffee. Manage my clients. Pitch the media. Cook. Write. Love my dogs and boyfriend. Then when it gets too quiet…in my life…I feel the need to shake it up which is what I’m going to do. (We are going to do.) Life is supposed to be an adventure, right? Therefore, I’m up for the challenge and the adventure. No one has said that I’ve ever been held back by fear… admittedly, I’m scared shitless.

It’s really not goodbye to Hollywood; it’s saying hello to Scottsdale and beyond.

Billy Joel sang it well, “So many faces in and out of my life. Some will last. Some will just be now and then. Life is a series of hellos and goodbyes. I’m afraid it’s time to say goodbye again. Say goodbye to Hollywood.”

Oh and by the way, this spice rub for chicken is delicious and easy home-cooking. At least one thing is easy.

Aromatic Roasted Chicken Thighs (adapted from Primal Palate)

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon black pepper

1 teaspoon garlic powder

1 teaspoon onion powder

1 teaspoon dried oregano

1 teaspoon tumeric

1/2 teaspoon chili powder

1/2 teaspoon paprika

1 teaspoon of olive oil.

Note: I don’t even measure. I just eyeball it.

8 bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Mix all the spices together in a large bowl. Rinse and dry all the chicken; then toss all of it into the bowl with olive oil. Rub all the chicken around in the spice mixture. Let sit for about ten minutes while the oven continues to get hot. Take all the chicken and spread it out into an even layer in a large roasting pan. Cook for about 30 minutes until the juices run clear. (If you want, throw some veggies around it like cauliflower, small potatoes, wedges of zucchini.)
The original recipe says to grill as well. That’s up to you.

July 12, 2015
i8tonite: Braised Leeks in Cream and Tarragon (Kitchen Sense, Mitchell Davis)

I know that as I write this that I’m not the only person who walks into a grocery store or farmers market and says, “I want to make something I’ve never made.” Recently, it was with leeks for me. I’ve cooked leeks but always as a supporting character in pot pies, vichyssoise, and fried for decoration. Thrown into stews. Chopped for soups. Roasted with meats. However, I’ve never used a leek as the main ingredient.

In Mitchell Davis’ lovely and massive cookbook, Kitchen Sense, which we are currently cooking from for the month of May; he had a recipe for Braised Leeks in Cream and Tarragon…making the onion relative, the star of the dish. (It’s Memorial Day weekend and I’m talking about braising instead of grilling. I always did like to go against the stream. Heh.)

Besides the leeks, the cream and the tarragon, the other major ingredients are butter and white wine. Very French. Before even making it, you can imagine the taste and subtle sweetness of the leeks with the cream’s richness. (I think a really good Loire Valley sauvignon blanc or a dry Belgian, non-fruit craft beer would be a good accompaniment; a light beverage with crispness and acidity.)

The methodology for making this vegetable braise is very simple but it does take a lengthy time to cook. I would make this for a holiday gathering or a dinner party when I have another item roasting in the oven. The dish is also lovely to present at a table.

Davis wants you to serve one leek per person. I feel it’s better at two leeks per person since this would be the only vegetable I’m serving; therefore, I’m doubling the recipe. If you are making the dish for two, cut it back to four leeks. (I think you can figure that out.)

Let’s Make This Puppy: Braised Leek with Cream & Tarragon

6 tablespoons of unsalted butter, room temperature

8 leeks, trimmed to white with about an inch of green

1 cup of white wine

½ cup of cream

4 sprigs of tarragon leaves; chopped

1 bay leaf

Salt and white pepper for seasoning.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Use some of the butter to grease a large baking dish (maybe something that goes from oven to table).

Remove the tops of the leeks, leaving one inch of the green; thoroughly, rinse the leeks in water and then cut them in half, lengthwise. Dry them on kitchen towels. (I try not to use paper towels and conserve resources….but if you must use paper towels…do so, just remember that you can purchase really inexpensive kitchen towels at your Walmart, Target, or other large discount for pennies. You can wash them as often as you want and will last you longer than your roll of paper towels.)

Place the leeks cut side down in the baking dish and pour the wine and cream over. The vegetables should be about three-fourths submerged. If not, just add a little more wine or cream. You choose. Add the bay leaf and scatter the tarragon. Season well with salt and pepper. Using the remaining butter, spot the top of the leeks. Cover tightly with aluminum foil baking for an hour and a quarter.

The leeks should be tender. If you used an oven-to-table baking dish as I recommended, just remove the bay leaf and serve.

It’s a pretty awesome dish but a little heavy with a little too much cooking time for a regular weekday meal but for a special occasion….it’s perfect!

May 23, 2015
A New Cookbook Icon: “Twelve Recipes” by Cal Peternell

As I was reading “Twelve Recipes” by Cal Peternell, chef at Alice Waters’ famed Chez Panisse, lacking a father figure became an even more perceptible limp in my upbringing. Here was a father who was packing up kitchen gear for his son before he went away to college, useful items such as a knife, cutting board, measuring cups and spoon. When my father left me at the age of 7, he took the child-sized, baby blue golf clubs with him. I wished I had a father who took such care in my welfare but who also wanted me to cook as exceptionally as he did, using recipes he created or knew like the back of his hand, passing them down to his progeny.

The premise of the book was to give his son the tools to create great dinners for himself and for his friends. However, as a finished product he created a well-written story on how to take care of yourself in the great big world.

Cal Peternell: Photo by Ed Anderson

That’s what cooking is for me, it’s the ultimate in self-care. It’s like going to the gym, getting your car washed, and seeing the dentist bi-annually. It’s a time-honored rite of passage and I really felt the love of Peternell for his children in his writing.

Most of the recipes are fairly basic such as his recipes for “salsa verde” using olive oil, parsley, salt and garlic. Then making that into a traditional gremolata (exempting the oil) with anecdotes about how his family dry herbs: “Some kids have to wash the car; my kids have to wash the parsley, and here’s how: fill a big bowl with cold water and dip the whole bunch of parsley in, swishing it around like you mean it. Lift it, give it a preliminary shake, and then drip as little as possible on the floor as you walk quickly outside. Swing the bunch by the stems, flick it like a whip, spritz the sidewalk, the yard, the dog, the world. Bunches of basil, cilantro, or mint can be taken on the same ride. Set the bunch on a towel to dry for 5 minutes — herbs chop up nicer and fluffier and don’t clump when they are not wet.” Who doesn’t want a father who wants to spritz the sidewalk?

But it was his cake recipes that really sold me.I’ve now made two of them, Cake-Cake and the Pan Cake. The Pan Cake is so easy it’s like why would you ever think of a mix? It’s not too sweet and best part, you can use one pan! Seriously, no bowl, everything is mixed in the cake pan you are going to bake in. With a good dollop of crème fraiche, homemade whipped cream or ice cream (if you have the ice cream contraption), it’s so simple to make for a daily treat or to impress dinner guests at the end of a meal. This recipe should be as standard as boiling water, scrambling eggs and buttering toast.

Ingredients (adapted from Cal Peternell’s “Twelve Recipes”):

1 ½ cups all-purpose flour

1 cup sugar

1/3 cup unsweetened cocoa (the recipe says 1/8 but I wanted it a little more bittersweet).

½ teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon finely ground coffee (optional…I also use 3 for more of a coffee/ cocoa taste)

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 tablespoon red or white vinegar

1 cup water

1/3 cup vegetable oil

Let’s make this puppy:

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Put the all the dry ingredients in an ungreased 8 – 9 inch round cake pan and stir with a whisk. Make a crater in the center, adding all wet ingredients together. Whisk until all the dry goods are fully incorporated. Put in the oven for about 30 minutes but check for doneness at around 20. Insert a toothpick into the center to make sure it’s fully cooked.

February 8, 2015
2014: My Year in Food

With another year ending, I get a little reflective over 2014 and of my eating. Mulling it over in my head, I chronicled my year with food, cooking and eating as spurring me forward. I still marvel at my ever changing tastebuds. Now that I’m firmly planted in middle age with no way of going back, I know it it’s my tongue that is leading me forward.

Growing up I never even comprehended that I would physically get to be in the places that I’ve been nor did I ever think that I would eat and roast cauliflower once a week or make bread every other. It was Shasta grape soda and the rare Filipino Chicken Adobe stewed up by my father. As an enlisted Navy man, these were rare occasions since he mostly was at sea. With my Southern-bred and Caucasian mother, it was a can opener and a can of Campbell’s “franks and beans” since she wasn’t a big homesteader. If cooking was in the maternal cards, it was a meatloaf made with ketchup, stale bread, onion soup mix, topped by shrink-wrapped Kraft cheese slices. (Is that even cheese?)

Looking into 2015, my world is rife with new opportunities of eating differently and experiencing more flavors. It’s less about surviving and more about living. Nick and I are planning an early spring trip to Mukwanago, Wisconsin, where he’s from.. Nick has told me about growing up with his siblings and ice fishing in the winter, the mighty Green Bay Packer fans and town fairs where everything is fried. Twinkies. Onion Rings. French fries. Pretzels. Oreos. All coated in batter and cooked in oil. (Yes, please.) Served with beer. (I started running again just to keep up with eating.)

We’ve also discussed going to Miami where Nick lived for over 20 years. With Cuba opening up, Miami is going to be a glorious hotbed of traditional Caribbean infusion; even more so, I suspect, than

before. (I’ve been to Miami once. I ate at Versailles, walked Lincoln Road but stayed at the Four Seasons which isn’t in the Cuban area nor near South Beach.)

For work, there are, as always regular trips to New York City and San Francisco. Last year, I felt so grateful for working with the much admired San Francisco culinary couple Lori Baker and Jeff Banker, of the closed Baker & Banker. They, as chefs, epitomized what I truly love and admire in a great restaurant. Extraordinary yet simple recipes that were made with love of cooking. Lori Baker’s bread and housemade butter alone where enough of a reason to go to San Francisco and plunk down eight bucks. Banker’s signature dish of Potato Latkes with House Cured Salmon was celestial; a charming yet slightly innovative take on the American deli plate.

Early in 2014, Nick and I traveled to Palm Springs where I ran into the lovely and masterful chef, Scooter Kanfer. She reigned supreme in Los Angeles with her restaurant, The House, and was one of the much lauded chefs turning out beautiful replications of American favorites like “Meatloaf & Mashed Potatoes”, “Macaroni & Cheese” and “Shortbread Animal Cookies with Milk”. She’s cooking up some of her staples and other fare at Café Tropicale. If you haven’t been there in recent months or years, it’s time to go. Scooter is one of the best chefs Southern California has produced.

The local LA restaurants that I still continue to patronize are Il Fico on Robertson and Beverly Boulevard’s Cook’s County. The latter is spearheaded by another husband and wife team, Daniel Mattern and Roxana Jullapat. They remind me of the So-Cal version of Baker & Banker. Unfortunately, the couple, as reported by the LA Times, are moving on from Cook’s County and hopefully, their love of cooking will transpire in another venue. At Il Fico, Chef Giuseppe Gentile, a native of Puglia Italy, re-creates exemplary pastas, pizzas and other regional dishes native to his homeland. The restaurant itself reminds me of a local Pugliese trattoria. My favorite place to eat is at the bar facing the rows of beautiful at the wine bottles and their Italian labels.

I guess the key thing though is that I’ve continued to cook and work which is all I really want to do. I worked a lot. I cooked a lot. Regarding cooking though, three things predominated in my digestion: Chicken, baking and sugar. That’s because Nick casually strolled into my world and he LOVES sugar and roasted chicken. It doesn’t make a difference where the sugar comes from as long as it comes in the form of baked goods. Cheesecake. Chocolate chip cookies. Peanut butter cookies. Skillet cookies. Apple, blueberry or banana crème pies. German Chocolate Cake. If it’s concoction that goes into an oven, filled with custard or topped with frosting…Nick will eat it. Let’s be clear, do not confuse candy, which can be used in pies, cakes and cookies, to be preferable. Nope. M & M’s in the cookie dough is far more delicious than eating the morsels out of a bag.

This of course spurred me on to making even more cookies than I ever have. I’ve always been one to whip up a batch of chocolate chip dough, wrap it up in foil and parchment to freeze for the occasional guest. Now, I make about two to four dozen cookies in a month, freezing them so Nick and I have them on hand to eat before bedtime.

There is also the revelatory “No Knead Bread” that I discovered (always behind the 8-ball…that’s me) which has allowed the baking of my own bread. Sandwiches. Croutons. You name it…I make from this easy bread baking recipe. It comes from the Sullivan Street Bakery recipe but was adapted by the cooking enthusiast and New York Times writer Mark Bittman. Now, I’ m perpetually making my own loaves about every two weeks. When I lived in New York City during my twenties, I made puff pastry which I labored over for days before a cocktail party which was honoring a Francophile. I was making Cheese Straws, which in my youthful head, I thought were the sophistication of sophistication. They seemed innocuous enough to attempt yet become laborious appetizers and with that…I was done with baking. Of course, this was before the internet, computers and smartphones and now I can find recipes for baking that are really easy like “No Knead Bread”. (We call it the “Ice Age”.)

Lastly, the chicken, mostly thighs, which Nick and I have roasted, baked, skinned, fried, boiled, dredged and whatever else you can do to the plucked bird. Mostly, we roast chicken thighs with the skin side up, drizzled with olive oil, squirts of lemon, chopped rosemary and garlic and salt and pepper. Cooked for about 35 to 35 minutes, making a crunchy skin and succulent meat fortifies us for the evening, when served with a salad. The leftovers we nibble on for lunch.

In 2015, I see more of the same. More work with really great people like Jim Burba and Bob Hayes, who hopefully will have a stage production in New York City, the opening of San Pedro’s 26,000 square foot, craft brewery, Brouwerij West, and really great food.

At the end of 2014, I don’t think I have been more content in my life. Sure, I have my anxiety attacks…who doesn’t but I feel at peace…and cooking has really been an important personal action in maintaining that balance.

It could all fall to pieces….but as long as I have a place to cook and eat, I think it will be okay. Happy 2015!!!

December 29, 2014
No Cook Thanksgiving But If I Were…..

I stopped cooking Thanksgiving meals about 5 years ago. I know, I know. It’s one of the big days that all caliber of cooks want to shine showcasing their adeptness in the kitchen, commercial or home. If you know anything about me, cooking is one my favorite of the things. Therefore, you would think that I would be all over this but I’m not. Not anymore. I stopped cooking for the holiday when I was ending a decade plus relationship that entailed my work and my personal life. I also moved from San Francisco, where I lived for 3 years, back to Los Angeles at the same time. (Hey, no one ever said that I liked to do it easy). That first Thanksgiving, as a single man, turned out to be a horrible experience as I was invited to eat at one of my ex’s friend with their 30 plus dinner guests. My only excuse for going was I that I was still delirious from the break-up.

With each progressive year, I feel less and less like big festivities. This year, I think it’s just Nick, Holly, JJ and my mother. I don’t really think of the holiday as exceptional anymore but I celebrate it quietly with people who love me and I, them.

At the heart of it all, Thanksgiving, Christmas, my birthday and New Year’s Eve clustered together in a 6 week period, is that I really just want to spend quality time with the people whom I cherish. I don’t want to wrapped up in a kitchen anymore for the entire day. Let someone else shine and enjoy learning about cooking. (To brine or not to brine? Fried or not to fry? Oysters in the stuffing or sausage?) I’ve made a lot of turkeys, roasts and hams in my life and I’m now willing to give up the “big star” turn to others. Cooking quietly, simple easy meals on a daily basis.

However, if I were to cook for a dinner of 8 to 10 (LOL), this is what I would make and why:

Butternut Squash Soup: Simplicity. Ease and elegance. Besides, Butternut Squash Soup screams fall!

Roasted Turkey Stuffed with Prunes: Mario Batali’s way of cooking a large bird is ingenious. Have your butcher remove the bones and use them for stock and gravy. Beautiful. Easy. Delicious and quick.

Homemade Bread: There is nothing in the world like homemade bread. Nothing. It can be made two or three days in advance and frozen. Just one of the most beautiful things ever. No Knead Bread is revelatory.

Salad: If I were making the dinner, the recipe for this Kale, Fennel and Apple Salad would be it. And I would leave it at this. It feels very European this meal. A protein. Bread. Salad. Soup.

This would be the meal. You don’t have to do too many things. If you want to throw in a traditional dish of roasted potatoes or sweet potatoes, go for it.

Oh, but don’t forget for dessert. HA! I don’t make a lot sweet things and there are reasons for it. I don’t want it around because I will eat it…ALL…but if I find something sweet and light.

Sparkling water and flat. Always.

White Wine: Duckhorn or Cade Sauvignon Blanc, Napa Valley. Both are perfect wines for cocktails and for the first course. Lovely and herbaceous.

Red Wine: Oregon’s Sokol Blosser Pinot is lovely for this dinner. Light, bodied, earthy red with hints of cherry.

Beer: Brouwerij West “Saison”. Not to hoppy, excellent flavor, Belgian-style beer. Craft beer made in Los Angeles.

Happy Turkey Day. Enjoy your family, friends and food!

November 14, 2014
And The Beet Goes On…

Sadly, I didn’t have a good food childhood. Once my parents divorced, it was mostly canned stuff my mother (or I) prepared, since the only one who cooked was my father. My mother would make the occasional meatloaf, with packaged breadcrumbs and Heinz ketchup. That was pretty much it except for the holidays when all the vegetables we ate would be canned. String beans. Corn. Beets. I wasn’t a fan of any of them, especially the beets. Oye. I thought canned beets were disgusting. I know she tried. She just wasn’t a cook. (Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who didn’t like them.)

Cut to living in New York City, and a very awkward young man walking through the Union Square Farmers Market. I would only buy potatoes, not sure what else to purchase or do with any of it. I was fairly ignorant of food, until I started working in restaurants. First as a waiter; then, as a bartender. Not only was I learning how to do pattern-making (it went the way of geometry) while attending Fashion Institute of Technology, but I began to acquire knowledge of food and drink. A lot about the drinking. One of my favorite sayings was and still is, “Pour me into a cab.” I learned about wine while working at Soho Kitchen & Bar as well as scotch, cognacs, gins, and beer. We sold over 110 wines by the glass, 60 types of bottled beers with 24 on tap and all could which would be paired with simple bar food, like Spicy Buffalo Wings, pizzas, easy salads. But the star was the grape: chardonnay, cabernet, merlot. The restaurant had on the menu a Grilled Chicken Salad with Roasted Beets. It was a fairly simple meal of grilled chicken breast sliced against the grain, on a bed of mixed greens with roasted beets in a mustard vinaigrette.

But it was the beets that I ate. And ate. And ate. I realized that when cooked properly, they have a sweet, buttery quality with a chewy, yielding texture. I loved them. Their colors are brilliant hues such as a bright orangey, yellow which is tantamount to the color of a fall sunset or the purple, reddish color that reminds me of exotic, richly colored Indian batiks.

Now, I cook them all the time and love every minute of it…and the beet goes on….

Let’s make some beets.

1. Preheat the oven to 400°F. While the oven gets up to speed, cut off the beet leaves and save them for a salad the next day. Wash the beets thoroughly and cut up the large ones in quarters, then wrap them loosely in foil. No need to dry the beets before wrapping.

2. Place the wrapped beets on a baking sheet and roast for 50-60 minutes.

3. Let the beets cool before handling them. Using a paper towel, rub the skin off. It should come off easily.

4. Now, cut them up to eat. My favorite thing is to dress them with a little olive oil and mix them into a salad of butter lettuce, bleu cheese and filberts with garlic chives. Awesome!!!

October 11, 2014
How to NOT Make a Cabbage Patch Dull

My friend Mark is a homecook like me but he loves to make complicated Moroccan food. The dishes that are thirteen thousand ingredients and counting. I do not. I want my food and cooking. It’s not that I don’t think that dishes with a lot of ingredients aren’t tasty; on the contrary, I find them delicious. I just like making things that are unfettered. Personally, I just want to taste 4 or 5 ingredients. Good quality ingredients with a simple preparation; very much like Alice Waters.

Mark recently asked me to help him cook a Moroccan dinner which was a thoughtful gift that he gave to a recently married couple. I was honored that he would ask for my help and since it had grown into a party of 10, he needed it. As part of the menu, he already planned two tagines: one lamb and one chicken, a fish b’stilla (the savory pie), cous-cous and roasted vegetables along with several appetizers. The one thing that the host specifically wanted was a series of Moroccan salads.

Mark, Mary (another homecook friend also asked by Mark to assist him) and I sat down to look at recipes that would be easy and complementary to his tagines featuring figs, dried apricots, preserved lemons and exotic Middle Eastern spices such as zatar and sumac. We started to look through several including a couple from Paula Wolfert.

Since, Mark was already making several tagines from Paula and another cookbook, I scanned “Morocco” by Jeff Koehler. One of the first that popped out was a Moroccan Cabbage Salad with Olive Oil, Lemon and Garlic. With a quick look at the recipe, I knew this was a keeper. It’s delicious with freshly ground Himalayan pink salt for finishing. (This is my adaptation of it.). I also knew that I wanted to make it.

What you need:

One head of Cabbage

2 Lemons

5 Garlic cloves

1/2 cup of oil

Let’s make this puppy:

1. Wash and slice the cabbage about a 1/4 inch thick into a large bowl for tossing. Don’t slice it too thin. (For color, you can add a little red cabbage.).

2. In a smaller bowl, press the garlic cloves and extract all the liquid. Throw the pulp into the bowl too.

3. Squeeze the juice out of lemons (removing all the seeds) into the same bowl. Add the olive oil and whisk.

4. Depending on when you serve this salad and how “cooked” you want the it to be, is when you should mix dress the salad. If you let the cabbage sit in the liquid too long, it will get less crunchy. So, I like to dress it about 20 minutes ahead of time, set aside and then serve with a finishing salt and parsley.

Awesome. Really.

August 31, 2014
The Humble “Crumble” or Just a “Crisp”
I have written many times that my mother wasn’t really a cook. She was a working, single mother and it wasn’t really in her repertoire to cook. Occasionally, she would make a meatloaf or the requisite holiday dinner but normally it was a sandwich, doughnuts, Kraft Mac & Cheese, possibly a can of Campbell’s Pork and Beans (very Sandra Lee).

It wasn’t until I moved to New York City that my taste buds began to experience real food and cooking. One of my teachers in my gastronomic learning was my roommate, Teresa. Born in Massachusetts, outside of Boston, from a family of 9, she quickly became someone I thought of as a family member; plus, she loved to cook. She made simple American dishes like “baking soda biscuits”, roasted chicken and made delicious “Apple Brown Betty” which is what she called it. Really it was just a “crumble” also known as a “crisp”.

Brought over by English settlers, a crumble or crisp, is baked fruit topped with a crust of sugar, butter and flour. And one of the most amazing things in the American cooking world. It’s a simple concoction that conjures up Norman Rockwell scenes: kids frolicking in freshwater lakes, post an afternoon of strawberry picking or climbing apple trees, yanking down bushels of apples. (None of which I experienced growing up in Baltimore. Besides, I had never seen a berry plant much less an apple tree in the urban Seventies landscape.)

It was Teresa’s Irish family cooking which opened me to this bit of Americana. I can still smell the baking aromatics of cinnamon and nutmeg with the sweetness of the apples. She would pull it from the oven still bubbling hot and top it with some cheap ice cream bought at one of the local bodegas.

It sort of came back to me when I was moving. I was triggered to make a crisp for me and Nick. It’s funny how doing something can make you want to do something else. A move is stressful and I wanted to eat something nostalgic, when I thought life was simpler like living in New York City and being a club kid. (LOL)

You will need:
- 2 pounds of hulled and sliced fresh strawberries
- 2 or 3 cups of fresh blueberries
- 3 tbs. of cornstarch
- 1 cup of brown sugar
- ¾ cups flour
- ¾ cups quick-cooking oatmeal
- 1 tsp cinnamon
- 1/2 tsp nutmeg (optional)
- ½ cups Butter
To Make:

Preheat oven to 350 F. Put the berries into a large bowl. Toss berries with cornstarch. Butter a 10″ glass pie plate or loaf pan and place the berries inside.

In a medium sized bowl, mix together the brown sugar, flour, rolled oats and cinnamon. Cut butter into the dry mix until resembling “crumbles”. Place over top of the berries.

Bake for 45-55 minutes with a rimmed baking sheet just in case it bubbles over.(Hate having to clean an oven!)

Serve warm with your choice of ice cream…vanilla is probably my choice because it’s tasty and doesn’t conflict with the berries. You can top with some homemade whip cream. (Add a touch of bourbon to the cream….whoo- hoo!)
August 6, 2014
Los Angeles Surprises & Garden Fresh Gazpacho

Los Angeles is not known for trains or gardens. Normally, the Land of Pretty People is thought of as a place of vast asphalt and traffic jams. Where a minor fender-bender can result in a manslaughter charge. Tonight though, Lulu, Don and I were going to high-tail it on three trains to get to Highland Park, a small off-shoot community populated with Hispanic families and which is fast becoming one of the new hipster areas that will soon be teeming with tattooed skinny boys, multi-colored haired women and piercing aficionados who know nothing about BDSM.

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First, it was an early dinner of Gazpacho and Pasta at Lulu’s. When I arrived at Lu’s house, Don was in the backyard picking tomatoes but Lu was already setting up the image of the washed arugula and other freshly harvested vegetables to be shot for this blog. After the requisite but lovely air-kisses, I was given the task of squeezing the meat from the large and beautiful heirloom tomatoes. (You don’t have to ask me twice!). It was a very Nigella Lawson moment as the joke abounded “about squeezing the meat”. Essentially, I was extracting the juice and pulp from the tomato so that it would be easier to puree into the soup leaving the…ahem…seeds from the meat. (Sorry, I said that it was very Nigella Lawson-like.)

Anyhow, into the blender went the squeezed tomato pulp, cucumber, onion, garlic and a little green pepper. and out came a sweet, refreshing chilled soup.

After this delicious dinner, served with Shrimp and Arugula Pesto and a Smokey Roasted Tomato Pasta, we began our adventure of riding the Los Angeles train system. Getting on at Exposition and La Cienega, which we needed to take a car (only in LA), we bought our TAP cards and away we went. This particular line traveled by Leimert Park, Staples Center, Civic Center, University of Southern California and was almost completely above ground. It’s really a good way to see Los Angeles without the stop and go traffic. We swtiched to the Red Line for a bit of time and then, transferred to the Gold Line which took us up into the streets again. We slipped past Chinatown and South Pasadena and arriving at Highland Park, which is neon lights, tree-lined avenues and Latino thumping music.

It was an art gallery opening that we are in the area to see but the subway or elevated or whatever transportation system Angelenos start calling our “train”. It’s a great way to avoid traffic, not worry about parking and see The City of Angels without wings.

Garden Fresh Gazpacho
You Will Need:
2 to 3 lbs Heirloom Tomatoes
1 large, peeled, seeded cucumber
2 cloves garlic (peeled)
1 half onion/ shallot chopped.
1 chopped bell pepper (red or yellow are preferable)

Let’s Finish This Puppy
1. Using a fine mesh strainer, squeeze out the meat and push through gently. Leaving behind the skins and seeds.
2. Place everything into a blender or food processor including the tomato pulp or liquid.
3. Hit that button marked “puree”. Voila, gazpacho.

Ideas: Taking this basic premise, you can add vegetable stock to make it thinner. Add some sour cream or creme fraiche to finish it. Maybe a little cilantro to make it feel special.

July 14, 2013
Farmers Market Haul and Lulu’s Gardening Class

Let’s begin with lovely Lulu’s gardening class before we get to Farmers Market Haul.

Shelley, Lauren, one of Lulu’s co-workers and Lauren’s husband, Chris, along with me, were students in Lulu’s backyard for her first-ever gardening class. Lu has been gardening since she was a child back in her homestate of Pennsylvania. It was always one of her aspirations to create an edible garden where she could cook and share her plantings. Since she purchased her home over 8 years ago in the PicFair District of Los Angeles, she has fashioned a dozen raised beds where many varieties of home-grown edibles have ripened to seasonal perfection. Being an urban/surburban kid and thinking for many years that vegetables came hidden in a supermarket’s underbelly, I’m massively awestruck by her cultivation of cantalopes and watermelons…. along with being supplied gifts from her seasonal harvests which have included lettuces (romaine, red leaf, and green leaf), tomatoes (some which she has used for canning and I used for sauces), cucumbers, artichokes, eggplant, basil, spaghetti squash, raspberries, blueberries, lemons, limes….and on and on. In each one of the approximate 2 1/2 feet by 6 feet areas, the soil has been tilled, rested and loved to reap some of the most deliciously edible gems I’ve had. There is nothing like direct farm to table to do a body good.

In this class, Lu’s immense knowledge was demonstrated when she dug up her compost turning out a dark, rich and thoroughly alive concoction with do-gooding worms (pictured). The class was a fully active hour and a half experience. For this city slicker, it still shows the difficulties of being a 21st century farmer. Farming is an arduous task. It’s about the right amount of water, sun and nutrients but I can absolutely see it’s rewards for the grower as I was rewarded cuttings from Lulu’s hardwork such as baby kale, zucchini, squash blossoms, and fresh mint.

All of this, on this Memorial Day weekend, brings me to Farmers Market Haul. Today, it was tiny Japanese bell peppers (Yakatori Farms), purple baby artichokes (SunCoast Farms), beautiful frisee, mizuna and baby chard (Windsor Farms), green Zebra Rita’s and baby spinach (McGrath Family Farms), small sweet Maui onions for grilling (Can’t remember the farm…), and rosemary (ABC Rhubarb).

(It was a small shopping excursion as I had the vegetables Lulu gave me from the class.)

I love the Hollywood Farmers Market. A weekly Sunday ritual like heading to church without the pie bake off at the end. It’s reminiscent of NYC’s Union Square Market. I prefer HFM before 11:00am, before my shins are black and blue from the strollers, wagons and pushcarts but still appreciate that families bring their kids to learn about food and its production. I love the urbanity of it: hipsters with their multiple canvas bags; the mid-thirty parents, who gave their nanny the day off, and are clutching too many children and too many vegetables; the single women holding onto lattes and the bottom of their maxi-dresses; the married gay men, leering over organic zucchini and the street musicians giving the market it’s soundtrack.
There’s no competition between farmers. One of the farmers didn’t have Bloomfield spinach, a fave lovely lettuce, and pointed me to another canvas stall ala “Miracle on 34th Street”/Macy’s vs. Gimble’s sort of way. I feel like this is the way life should be, simple, uncomplicated, free of CNN’s ticker tape, which is located around the corner.

One of the great things at HFM, I get to learn about my food and ask questions of the individual purveyors. I get to know them, they know me. They become a constant. I like that. It’s a small village atmosphere in a metropolitan city. The market is there to serve and keep me, in my mind, safe…that’s why I go. Its one of the few times in my week…when out of my car and out of my apartment… I feel sheltered and we are there to buy nourishment and feel nourished.

And…no matter what I think of war or our politicians, it’s people whom I’ve known such as the farmers who had many children go to war, who help feed the young men and women who have served our country….to both, I salute you.

May 26, 2013