Going Local

locally grown artichokes at the Santa Monica Farmer's Market

For the month of May I’ll be living like there’s no jumbo jet, cargo ship or semi-truck available to deliver grapes from Chile or steak from Nebraska. Joining the Eat Local Challenge is a chance to focus on reducing my “ecological footprint” and supporting small, local farms.

To me, eating locally conjures up images of my Grandpa Johnny—a lifelong resident of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, who fished Lake Superior nearly every day of his life, and smoked his own trout in his backyard. It reminds me of the Wisconsin farm of one of my best friends, where the entire extended family comes together once a year to butcher their cows. I think of my Grandma Sally’s homemade strawberry jam, and her knowledge of nearly every good wild berry patch within a 25 mile radius of her house. I remember last summer, sitting on my parents porch with my dad, scraping kernals off ear after ear of sweet corn, to be frozen for a treat come December.

So, with an eye to my midwestern heritage, I’ll do my best this month. One thing I'm having trouble sourcing--locally-made yogurt, a breakfast staple in our household. Any Angelenos have suggestions?

Here are my answers to questions for participants:

1. What's your definition of local for this challenge?
For fruits, vegetables, eggs, dairy, and wine, within 100 miles of Los Angeles, CA. For meat and fish, within California.
2. What exemptions will you claim?
Coffee is non-negotiable, but we do get our beans from a local, environmentally-minded roaster, Groundwork. Anything already in my pantry (spices, flour, sugar, rice, etc) is fair game, and if I need more basic baking goods to make bread, I can buy it. Also, my trip to MA at the end of the month doesn’t count.
3. What is your personal goal for the month?
Other than the aforementioned out-of-town sojourn, I aspire to make 75% of my meals homemade and local this month. My other primary goal for the month is to focus on making as many “basic” foods as possible myself—bread, pasta, granola, etc. I want to set aside time on the weekends to bake and cook, freezing and storing as I go.

Lemony Angel Roll

J loves anything lemon almost as much as he loves angel food cake, so I decided to treat him (and me!) to this dessert last weekend. Other than indulgence, it was a way to use up some about- to-expire eggs and an I-don't-know-how-we-ended-up-
with-so-many pile of lemons.

The Joy of Cooking has become my go-to basic baking book--it is very particular, but its recommendations have not failed me yet. For example, for the angel food sheet cake, it instructed me to first sift my flour, then sift the sugar, flour and salt together not once, not twice, but three times. I was able to overcome my lazy gene and followed the rules, and was rewarded with an extremely light cake. Conversely, when I ignored the instructions--I had no parchment paper so I just greased the pan instead of lining it--I paid the price with a cake that was difficult to remove and cracked in places.

The filling is a simple lemon curd, and I served it with strawberries and cream, and our slices were gone in about 5.3 seconds.

Erin's Kitchen Index: Cookies, Cakes, Breads and other treats

Fresh Fava Bean Frustration

Fresh favas after shucking, blanching, and shucking again.

I really, really like eating fresh fava beans. But I'm not convinced it's worth the ridiculous effort involved in making them. You start with a huge bag full o'bean pods, and after not one but TWO shuckings, you end (hours later) with a puny pile of admittedly gorgeous green insides.

Favas after first shucking, pre-blanching. Once they're blanched, I either use a knife or my fingernail to push into the bean by the stem on the top and pop the hard skin off.

Don't get me wrong--I don't mind working for my food, and on the weekends I often tackle long and involved recipes. Yet there's something about favas--I'm always slightly disappointed with the meagerness of the end product. So--once a spring is about it for me. And 2006's "once" was this past Saturday, when we grilled some king salmon and served it over pureed fava beans.


The recipes and pairing came from Mario Batali's Babbo Cookbook, but the fava puree is so easy, you don't need really need a recipe. First off, buy a bagful of the biggest fava beans you can find at the market. Then pop the beans out of their pods--the way I do it is to make a small cut at one end and then pull the string off the side, which usually opens the pod. Blanch your beans in boiling water for 4-5 minutes, then drain. Again, pop the beans out of the tough outer shell-- sometimes I use a knife, sometimes my brute (harhar) strength. Whirl in the food processor with a tablespoon or two of fresh thyme. Add slugs of olive oil until it reaches a slightly smooth texture, and season with salt and pepper. Warm in a saute pan over the stove before serving with the salmon.

Erin's Kitchen Index: Soups, Salads and Veggies

Do we really have to work tomorrow?

Strangely, today the sky was sunny in Santa Monica and sullen in Los Feliz. We brought some of the sunshine home from the beach-side farmer's market though, in the form of blood oranges, which J transformed into cocktails. Cheers!

Blood Orange Cosmopolitans for two

juice of 5 medium blood oranges
juice of one lime
2 1/2 shots vodka
splash of triple sec

Mix ingredients in cocktail shaker filled with ice. Shake, shake, shake and strain into two glasses. Don't drink too fast.

Thanks to the Babbo Cookbook for inspiration.

Easy Weeknight Meals: Spring Green Tart

Green garlic smells like fresh dirt. It's a good smell.

My favorite farmer's market in SoCal is the one on Thursday night in South Pasadena. It has a small town feel, full of families and neighbors enjoying the almost-weekend, munching sweet corn, tamales, buttery sauteed mushrooms and other treats while sprawled on the green lawn that abuts the market. With its diverse mix of stands, it allows me to get prepared for (and excited about) weekend cooking, unlike the huge Hollywood farmer's market, which takes place on Sunday.

This week, before meeting up with friends for our own tamale dinner, I made the rounds and picked up green garlic, a new to me Asian green, hon tsai tai, and rainbow chard. I was attracted to the hon tsai tai by the deep purple color of the stems and its tiny yellow flowers, and the scrawled description on a nearby index card--mildly mustardy. We left the veggies in our truck as we spent time with friends and we returned to cab smelling strongly of green garlic--or as J put it, "fresh dirt."

Hon tsai tai, pre-chopping.

All three of my purchases ended up on a cheesy tart last night, an adapted version of the tart I wrote about here. Other than a modification in the toppings, I also substituted cottage cheese for ricotta and omitted the 1/4 c. of creme fraiche, in an attempt at healthy living. It worked remarkably well--probably because the crust and the goat cheese add enough richness. While pleasantly bitter, the hon tsai tai didn't taste particularly mustardy, and if cooking with it again, I'd remove the tough stem, or cook it down a bit longer.



Spring Green Tart

1 frozen sheet all-butter puff pastry
2 egg yolks
1/2 large bunch of rainbow chard, center ribs removed, roughly chopped
handful of trimmed hon tsai tai
3 bunches sliced green garlic
1 tsp. thyme leaves
1/2 c. low-fat cottage cheese
1 tbsp. cream
6 oz. goat cheese

salt/pepper
olive oil

Preheat oven to 400.

Defrost puff pastry (I wrap the folded piece in a damp towel) and unroll it on a lightly oiled baking sheet. Score a 1/4-inch border around the edge of the pastry. Mix one egg yolk and a splash of water, and brush along the border. Chill the pastry in the freezer until ready to use.

Heat a large saute pan over high heat, and add tbsp. olive oil. Then add thyme and 1/2 the green garlic, and saute for a few minutes. Then add the chard and the han tsai tai, tossing in oil to help them wilt. Season with salt and pepper. Cook, stirring frequently, until greens are tender. Set aside to cool.

Mix cottage cheese, remaining egg yolk, cream, splash of olive oil, salt and pepper together in a bowl (If you'd like it really smooth, you can puree in food processor).

Spread cottage cheese mixture on the puff pastry inside the scored border. Crumble half of the goat cheese over the cottage cheese, arrange the cooked greens on top, and sprinkle with the rest of the green garlic. Then distribute the last of the goat cheese on top.

Bake the tart for 20-25 minutes, until cheese is bubbling and crust is golden brown. Cool a few minutes and serve.

Erin's Kitchen Index: Pasta, Rice, and Eggs Easy Weeknight Meals

Erin's Kitchen Does New York: April 2006

Best Of New York April 06: Sweets and Treats
Best Of New York April 06: Leisurely Lunch
Best Of New York April 06: Monday Night Dinner
Best Of New York Aril 06: Crowd Pleaser

Okay, instead of posting random bits and pieces from my latest trip to New York City, I'm going to arrange posts in a "best of" fashion. Of course, this is just the "best of" my most recent trip--not comprehensive by any means. (I'll leave that to New York Magazine).

April 06 NYC Best Of: Leisurely Lunch

'wichcraft in Bryant Park

J's roast pork with coppa, pickled pepper relish, and fontina panini.

70 degree sunny spring day + green grass and budding trees + fabulous people watching + a yummy sandwich = outdoor lunch heaven. Having sampled the Shake Shack on our last NYC trip, this time we headed for Bryant Park instead, much closer to J's midtown office, and home to chef Tom Colicchio's 'wichcraft stands, hawking fancy sandwiches, salads and soups (there are also two seperate stands for coffee and ice cream). The salad/soup stand is seperate from the sandwich one, which means unless you're a dedicated "preview everything before I choose" kind of person, willing to make the rounds, you must limit your options. We went for sandwiches, where the menu is divided into warm and cool--most of the warm seem to be of the panini persuasion.

J had the roast pork, while I stuck with my favorite of all time--grilled cheese. This of course was a chichi-lala grilled cheese with gruyere and carmelized onions. Both were filling, but not too big, and much more flavorful than the turkey sandwich I usually pack for lunch. The stand also served a few sides--mixed greens and a chickpea salad, and had a mix of high-end sodas. Normally, it sells chips as well, but I heard the counter guy tell folks ahead of us that they'd be out of chips for a couple of weeks?! So much for a city where you can get anything, anytime!

Honorable Mention:
Pearl Oyster Bar and Grand Central Station's Oyster Bar

Pearl Oyster Bar
Who knew that you ever actually found a pearl in a restaurant oyster? Exactly that happened to my neighbor during lunch at this aptly named spot in the West Village. The bartender at this sunlit urban lobster shack graciously rinsed it and provided a container for the patron to take her treasure home.

Pearl’s had been at the top of my list for solo dining since reading about it in Amanda Hesser’s Cooking for Mr. Latte a few years back. This tiny place is primarily made up of a long, skinny bar, with a narrow side room packed with small tables. It serves lunch from 12-2 on weekdays, dinner later, and was fairly full when I visited around 1 on a Monday. The short menu features seafood simply prepared. I had the pan-fried cod sandwich served with shoestring fries. The huge piece of fish was ensconced in a crusty-on-the-outside, chewy-on-the-inside roll, and slathered with a homemade tarter sauce, dotted with diced cornichons. At my perch at the end of the bar, as a slowly savored my sandwich, I could watch the action in the kitchen, as chef Rebecca Charles (wo)manned the grill.

For wine, the woman sitting to my right recommended the Gruner Veltliner, and following her lead, I had two glasses. As she explained to me, she wasn’t heading back to work that afternoon, and of course, neither was I.

Oyster Bar at Grand Central Station
As you can see, I like my seafood. This was my last meal before catching the bus to the airport, and an appropriate NY send off. The cavernous, brick-lined space was full of a noisy mix of tourists, families, businessmen, and seemingly tryst-like lunches. The extensive menu covers all the seafood bases, printed up daily, highlighting what's fresh.

The restaurants eponymous platter--8 different oysters.

The main purpose of our visit--in season softshell crab.

Old school--four cold seafood salads. Shrimp with ginger sauce, crab ceasar, salmon with vert sauce, and squid with basil.

April 06 NYC Best Of: Crowd Pleaser

Stepping into The Spotted Pig at 9 p.m. on a Saturday night, you might easily think it was just another crowded bar in the West Village instead of a Michelin-starred gastropub. On my recent visit, both the downstairs and (new) upstairs rooms were packed with 20 and 30 somethings clutching pints, many in groups of 4 or more, spilling well past the confines of the barstools, practically sitting on diners laps. A few minutes in, however, you notice the specials scrawled on a mirror in the back include cockles steamed in beer and fresh herbs, and catch a whiff of the sage and butter gnudi rushing by in the waiter’s hand, and you realize the crowds are there for more than the British beers on tap.

ricotta gnudi with sage and brown butter

The Spotted Pig doesn’t take reservations for parties under 6, nor does it waste space on a hostess stand. Luckily, the man taking names the night of our visit was extremely tall with shaggy hair, wearing a distinctive ski sweater. Upon getting his attention, he produced a crumpled, folded index card from his back pocket and scrawled our name on the end of a very long, messy list. Informed that our wait would be about an hour or a little more, we found a cozy corner, a couple of glasses of Spotted Pig Bitter, and enjoyed the scene, trying not to snatch a fry or two from the piles of shoestrings on the burger plates floating by every few minutes.

Nearing the end of our wait (“next table’s yours” according to ski-sweater man), the actor from Match Point walks in (Jonathan Rhys-Meyers) with a lovely lady in tow. He searches upstairs and down for a table, and then reappears a the bar, seemingly content to drink with the rest of the plebes. However, after a quick conference with other wait staff, tall, shaggy ski boy whisks Mr. Pouty Lips upstairs, looking somewhat apologetically our way. In the end, our table loss to marginal celebrity didn’t matter—another five minutes and we secured a spot downstairs.

Having watched many dishes go by, we knew we’d start with the aforementioned cockles and gnudi (basically, ricotta cheese gnocchi). The tiny cockles popped in my mouth tasting of the sea, tinged with butter and beer, the pile of fresh, raw herbs providing extra flavors and a contrasting texture. The creamy gnudi were as decadent as imagined—yet the slight sourness of the ricotta prevented an overload of richness.

Our main courses were rabbit and cornish hen, both rich and perfectly done. The rabbit in particular was cooked long and slow, so the meat was falling off the bone. Sizable portions each, though with the rabbit it may have been prudent to order a side dish—it was fairly lonesome on the plate (the hen came with polenta). Dessert was fine, but not necessarily worth the calories—we shared a lemon and lime tart and a slice flourless chocolate cake. I prefer flourless chocolate cakes that are dense with pudding-like centers, while this reminded me more of chocolate mousse.

As we finished our meal around 12:15 a.m., the crowd had started to thin, but only slightly. The kitchen stays open until 2 a.m. on weekends, and tables were still filling as we left. Obviously, if you’re in a hurry or hate to wait, Saturday night’s probably not the best time to visit. And, if you’re looking for a fine-dining experience, this isn’t your spot—we had a total of three different servers throughout the night, and were often jostled by nearby patrons. Best to think of it as a convivial place to grab a beer—and then stay for some delicious, inventive food.

The Spotted Pig
314 W. 11th St at Greenwich St (NOT Greenwich AVE!)
NY, NY
212.620.0393

**One sour note that’s easily fixable: the bathrooms were gross. Out of supplies, garbage overflowing, water dripped everywhere. This was the place that the restaurant truly demonstrated that it’s not quite able to handle the crazy crowds.

April 06 NYC Best of: Sweets and Treats

Tied: Glaser's Bake Shop and ELK Candy Company

Yes those are Peeps on top of the cupcakes; you could pick buttercream or whipped cream frosting.

The Friday before I left, the New York Times ran an article about the last of the mitteleuropean stores and cultural landmarks on the Upper East Side/Yorkville. Glaser's Bake Shop and the ELK Candy Company, each in business for years and years, were mentioned as highlights and I spent my last morning in the city eating cupcakes and candy for breakfast. Both spots were outfitted for Easter, with pastels and bunnies everywhere.

Glaser's was empty when I arrived, but soon filled with mom's and strollers, kids shouting their hello's to the woman behind the counter, Joanna. Some looked longingly at the cupcakes, but the mom's only allowed a chick or bunny sugar cookie. As a free-from- parental-intervention but perhaps irresponsible adult, I was able to have a buttercream and Peep topped cupcake for breakfast and it was divine. The frosting was not tooth-achingly sweet and the cake was moist and crumbly. Much better than the
cupcake I sampled last fall at the vaunted Magnolia down the west Village. I also picked up a mix of tiny peanut-butter chocolate dipped, dark chocolate, and lemon cookies for J's office. I didn't sample any, but I understand they were a hit.

Marzipan at the Elk Candy Company.

The ELK Candy Company just down the street was a quieter, more precise affair. The glass cases housed row upon row of marzipan confections, including multiple trays of chicks. Not a fan of marzipan, I went for the small chocolate eggs instead--one filled with peanut butter, one with marshmallow and one with both marshmallow and caramel. J scored the peanut butter one when we shared later on (damn!), but I liked the marshmallow caramel just fine. Again, not overly sweet at all and the marshmallow was pleasantly chewy. Each egg was kinda pricey at $1.50, but for handcrafted chocolates with quality ingredients from an independent business, I'm not complaining.

Elk Candy Company
1628 Second Avenue, between 84th and 85th
(212) 585-2303


Glaser's Bake Shop
1670 First Avenue, at 87th
(212) 289-2562

The Honorable Mentions:
sugar Sweet sunshine
126 Rivington Street between Essex & Norfolk
Yes, it's run by former Magnolia-ites, but it's a laid back spot with better cupcakes. Plus they have a place to sit, and sell tea and coffee. The lemon is particularly yummy.

Economy Candy
108 Rivington Street, between Ludlow & Essex
This old-time candy store is stocked to the rafters with all sorts of sugary goodies. It also caters to a Lower East Side Jewish clientele with lots of special candies for passover. You can see some pictures here.

Jacques Torres Chocolate--DUMBO

Jacques Torres is a fancy-pants chocolate-maker with a factory in Brooklyn (he's got one in Manhattan too). The store was filled with chocolate easter bunnies of all shapes and sizes when I visited, but I focused on the small, intriguing chocolates. Like LA's Boule, the flavors are unique--peanut butter and jelly (yum!), rosé wine (eh..), port (yum!), and fresh lemon (the best so far). I still have six left (of the 12 purchased for $15), and am trying to go slow. But I'm the kinda girl who ate all her Halloween candy in the first week or so after the holiday, so we'll see how it goes.

The Pickle Guys--Lower East Side

Thanks to some guidance from Manhattan Chowhounders, I visited The Pickle Guys on the Lower East Side today. I had two half-sour pickles for $1.

The Pickle Guys deal primarily in --duh--pickled items, but for Passover, they also make fresh horseradish, right out front. Here are some horseradish roots awaiting their fate.

Gas mask on? Okay, let's grind.

Green Spring Dinner

To become a favorite of mine, cookbooks must not only provide useable recipes, but also inspire me to try new ingredients, new ideas and new flavors. Pictures help as well (or drawings)--seeing a vision of the final product helps me conceptualize as I go along. Two new cookbooks of mine meet this criteria--Sunday Suppers at Lucques by Suzanne Goin and The Herbal Kitchen by Jerry Traunfeld--as their already-worn spines can attest.

The Sunday Suppers book has introduced me to farro and black rice, and caused me to think more thoughtfully about building layers of flavor in a dish, even if the techniques are exceedingly time consuming. In The Herbal Kitchen, I've discovered uses for lemon thyme, how to start a home herb garden, and been inspired to make herb-infused drinks. As an added bonus, both books are delightful reads irrespective of the recipes, and you learn a lot just the chapter introductions and ingredient glossaries.

After an afternoon of leafing through both books, Sunday Suppers Swiss Chard Tart with Goat Cheese, Currants, and Pine Nuts and The Herbal Kitchen's Asparagus Soup graced our table last weekend.

My favorite part of the meal was the currant-pine nut relish for the tart, an example of new ideas (to me) and nuanced flavor-layering. You start by heating a saute pan, swirling some olive oil in with a sprig of rosemary and a chile de arbol. Then, add some finely diced red onion and cook until tender. Meanwhile, you gather your toasted pinenuts, and soak your currants (in my case, raisins) in warm water until plump. When your onions are done, transfer to bowl, remove rosemary and chile. Add 3/4 c. balsamic vinegar back to your pan, and reduce, reduce, reduce to 1 tbsp. of syrupy sauce. Mix balsamic with all other ingredients, and then strew the sweet relish over your tart. It pairs beautifully with the bite of the goat cheese and the long-cooked swiss chard, and you'll marvel that you made something so delish in your modest kitchen.

Erin's Kitchen Recipe Index: Soups and Salads

Feeling Lou-py

mole, fennel, and sweet salami plank

A few years ago a coworker and I were discussing where to grab lunch, and he, apropos of nothing, definitively announced, "Bacon makes everything better." It was a strange non sequitur, but I had to agree. Bacon, or more broadly--pork--makes everything better. Including LA's newish, crowded, east Hollywood wine bar, Lou.

Lou has a short yet satisfying menu, with lots of pork--the above salami plank, with a rotating variety of meats from Batali, Sr; an ever-changing slow cooked pork dish, and, my new favorite oinkster product, pig candy. We sampled all three (plus a frisee salad, for healthy balance, of course) on our recent trip to Lou. I first read about pig candy in Jonathan Gold's column in the LA Weekly--and it lived up to Gold's accolades. The crispy, brown-sugary, long-cooked bacon pieces are so, so, so good.

Having only been open a few weeks, Lou's still struggling to hash out service issues--the one waitress was overwhelmed and I'm almost convinced it was Lou's owner's wife, NY movie reviewer, Manohla Dargis, helping clear plates for awhile last Friday. Whoever it was, she was a goofy gal--as she took my empty glass, she remarked, "I'm never sure if I'm supposed to talk to the customers or not," followed by a question to J, "Are you done, or do you want to fondle it [his wineglass] a bit longer?"

Lou

724 N Vine St.
Los Angeles CA 90038
(323) 962-6369

Erin's Kitchen LA Restaurant Index: East-ish

Quest for Mango with Sweet Sticky Rice

This afternoon I ventured a few blocks down the street to Thai Town for the Songkran (Thai New Year) Festival. Looking for a snack, I spotted this sign. Who can argue with One of the best taste in L.A.? I jumped in the long line.


Everyone ahead of me seemed to order 4-5 servings of rice and mangos. Then this woman in the fancy dress jumped the line and got her 10 servings. Note to self: dress nicer next time.


Soon I was close enough to see the big bowl of sticky rice, scooped out by the plastic-bag covered handful.


The women behind the counter had a system for filling 4 containers at once, and I had ample time to admire their mango peeling and cutting technique. Using the same knife for the entire process, they'd quickly peel one side, in long, length-wise strips. Then one flat cut, again lengthwise, close to the pit. Next, chop-chop-chop-chop-chop, five quick cuts across the width, slide the slices into the styrofoam. Flip, and same process on the other side.



Finally, my turn. I'd never had sweet sticky rice before and was wary, as I'm not a fan of rice pudding. No need to worry, this was fantastic, as was the perfectly ripe mango. I have not been able to figure out what the crunchy bits are, but they provided a nice foil for the glutinous rice. Anyone knows what they are, leave a comment, please!

For more Songkran Festival pictures, visit: Thai Festival on Flickr

Favorite Things Saturday: Masala Chai Tea

simmering tea, spices, milk and water

Studying abroad in Zimbabwe was where I first realized the pleasure of tea--as a former British colony, it's a well established ritual in rural villages and the cities--mid-morning, mid-afternoon, and often late evenings. Prior to the trip, I never put sugar or milk in my tea, but was basically forced to do so there as every family I stayed with expressed shock and bewilderment when I didn't. And they were right--it is much better when richly mixed with the two. Now, six years later, an afternoon or right-before-bed cup of tea is a favorite comfort in my life.

I don't often drink heavy black tea full of sugar and milk these days, often opting for green tea with lemon or a mint tisane instead. However, with the ongoing rain and cold weather here, yesterday I wanted something cozier and remembered Jasmine's post about homemade masala chai. Chai incorporates my favorite spices--cloves, cardamom, cinnamon, star anise and while you can buy chai teabags or loose tea, it's incredibly easy to make yourself. Simmer some black tea, the lightly crushed spices, milk and water for a few minutes, let it steep for a few minutes more, strain into a cup, mix in your sweetner of choice, curl up on the couch with a book, and you're all set.

This post is for Jill's Favorite Things Saturday.

A Final Homecooked Meal: Scallop Chowder

Last Friday, as I was scrambling to pull myself together for a work week in Washington, my brain was frankly more interested in deciding what to cook that night, my last meal before a slew of breakfast-lunch-dinners out in DC. After the position papers were collated, last-minute meetings set, pantyhose packed, and sensible yet stylish shoes purchased in anticipation of skittering from one Congressional office to the next, I finally stopped off at the Fish King in Glendale, and immediately wondered why I'd never been before. This fishmonger has a wide-ranging selection of the freshest looking seafood I've seen in the area--better than Whole Foods, even. Slabs of salmon, whole rainbow trout, a stack of kumomoto oysters. Live lobsters and enormous crabs; plus, freezers filled with homemade fish stock, lobster bisque, and other seafood creations. There's an anemic but useful produce section (onions, garlic, couple tomatos), and fresh bread.

I had planned on mussels, but instead settled on some small bay scallops, with the idea of chowder slowly forming in my brain. I picked up what else I thought I might need--some of the aforementioned fish stock, an onion, a bit of half and half, and a baguette.

At home, Epicurious once again to the rescue--I modified this recipe for a superb soup. I had no bacon, but did have a bunch of shiitake mushrooms (which I sauteed seperately and mixed in at the end). Used the fish stock instead of clam juice; half and half instead of cream. Also omitted the thyme but mixed in a handful of roughly chopped tarragon at the end for a bit of green color and licorice flavor. My only regret is that I had to get on a plane the next morning and J. got all the leftovers.

Fish King
720 North Glendale Avenue
Glendale, California 91206

Erin's Kitchen Recipe Index: Meats and Fishes; Soups and Salads
Erin's Kitchen LA Restaurant Index: East-ish

Recovery Rice Bowl

Sometimes, enough is enough. Enough eating out. Enough butter. Enough red meat. Enough complicated presentations and 12-step recipes. You just want a simple supper that's about sustanence, not entertainment; something to calm your senses instead of overwhelm them.

Recovery Rice Bowl

1/2 c. cooked black rice**
1 c. frozen, shelled edamame, thawed (Trader Joe's sometimes has fresh, shelled edamame, too)
sesame seeds
salt and pepper

Mix ingredients together. Eat. Go do something not food-related.

**I had never made black rice before, but after searching a bit on the internet, I boiled 1/2 a cup of rice in a cup of water. It seems to cook very quickly and stays a bit soupy, which works for this dish. The water turns a lovely purplish color, too!

Erin's Kitchen Recipe Index: Pasta, Rice, Eggs

Downbeat Cafe

Last night Echo Park's Downbeat Cafe took me two places at once: both back to high school and to college. High school first--last night's jazz combo was a couple of talented high school kids, a girl on the piano and boy on the bass. As they goofed with their friends and snuck out front for a cigarette, I recalled the thrill of visiting the first artsy coffee shop to open in downtown La Crosse, WI--Jules. Sipping mochas with Kelly, hashing out the trials and tribulations of high school, sneaking glances at the older indie boys a few seats down. Oh, the angst--if only we had known we'd each end up in places where artsy coffee shops are a dime a dozen.

Then, to college: specifically, The Haymarket, a crunchy veggie coffeeshop in Northampton, MA. Many a night was whiled away studying, draining cup after cup of strong coffee. Often my friends and I spent more time talking than studying, and of course, still checking out the indie boys at the next table.

J and I have been heading to the Downbeat lately for our form of post-college studying (aka work), laptops in hand. The Downbeat does not have wireless, which means I actually accomplish something when I'm there. It does have simple and tasty sandwiches and salads--nothing special, but freshly made with good ingredients. I can always count on the turkey and avocado sandwich, as well as the Greek salad, heaped with feta, olives and tomatos. They usually have a soup o' the day which seems to stretch leftover or exceedingly basic ingredients to the max (last night they featured onion, on a previous trip the soup was garlic, which I can't recommend).

And of course, I've heard the Downbeat is a good place to sneak glances at cute indie boys.

Downbeat Cafe
1202 N Alvarado St
Los Angeles, CA 90026-3127
(213) 483-3955

Erin's Kitchen Restaurant Index: Los Angeles: East-ish

A Shot of Summer

Berry Smoothies
Originally uploaded by erinsikorskystewart.

I can't take it any more. If we lived in Seattle, fine. Or if we lived in North Dakota, I'd handle the March snows. But Los Angeles? Cold and rainy every single week? CANNOT take it. After three years of living here, I'll admit it, I've become soft. I need not only sunshine, but warmth. Please can't I wear my flip flops soon??

The sun did peek out for most of the day Sunday, and we were able to sneak to the farmer's market for early season strawberries. Whirled into a breakfast smoothie, they brightened our spirits, and almost made up for the lack of vitamin D. It also got us our dose of antioxidants, just like Sweetnicks encourages us to do for ARF/5-A-Day Tuesday.

Very Berry Smoothie

1/2-3/4 pint washed and roughly chopped strawberries
a couple handfuls blackberries
juice of two mid-sized oranges
1 Trader Joe's Strawberry Yogurt

Toss all ingredients into the blender and whirl til well mixed.

Erin's Kitchen Recipe Index: Cookies, Cakes, Breads and other treats

Whaddya mean simmer?

According to this article, fewer and fewer Americans have a basic cooking vocabulary.

At Kraft Foods, recipes never include words like “dredge” and “sauté.” Betty Crocker recipes avoid “braise” and “truss.” Land O' Lakes has all but banned “fold” and “cream” from its cooking instructions. And Pillsbury carefully sidesteps “simmer” and “sear.”

When the country's top food companies want to create recipes that millions of Americans will be able to understand, there seems to be one guiding principle: They need to be written for a nation of culinary illiterates.

Ouch. Is it really that bad? One speculative reason given that many of today's adults had mom's that worked full time, hence no kitchen knowledge. That can't be it--BOTH of my parents worked full time, yet they were able to teach me the basics--how to follow a recipe, how to make a roux, how to grease the INSIDE of the pan (yes, according to the article some folks think you should grease the outside).

Sunny Sunday Brunch: Campanile

Sunlight is an essential ingredient for a splendid Sunday brunch. Whether you're nursing a hangover or have already been up for hours, streaming sunlight makes you feel so healthy and lovely that you can ignore the fact that you're lazily wasting the late morning/early afternoon away drinking coffee and eating fancified (aka more expensive) breakfast items.

Campanile has sunshine in spades, shining through skylights in its front atrium--the perfect place to while away our mid-day, waiting for our friends trying to battle the LA Marathon traffic. We started with coffee of course, followed by a peach bellini for J and a Lillet-spiked OJ for me. Lillet, a citrusy French apertif, signals summer weather to me, which we could really use around here. A basket of baked goods began our meal--you can order pastries individually from an ever-changing selection, but a basket saves you a buck or two. We munched a warm apple turnover and huckleberry frangiapane tart--both more dessert-like than breakfast-like, but the best pastries usually are.

After realizing we had picked the worst possible place to meet up on marathon day (our poor friends were stuck outside a circle of blocked off streets), and a friendly warning from the waitress that the kitchen would soon stop taking orders, J and I ordered sans companions. Knowing Campanile's sister spot La Brea Bakery was the bread source, J went for the french toast with lingonberry jam and a side order of sausage. Since the pastries had already filled my sweet urge, I headed towards the spring quiche, with pea tendrils, asparagus and goat cheese. Both were delicious--the french toast a delicate balance of crispy outside and just-a-tad squishy inside, richly vanilla and eggy. The spring flavors of the quiche popped and kept it from unbearable richness.

Overall, a place I would visit again, particularly when I'd like to linger, or show out-of-town guests the glory of a sunny California weekend. I will note that the prices of some items are on the expensive side, even, in my opinion, for a high-end restaurant. The pastries are $5 a pop--they are fantastic and freshly made, but perhaps the $3-4/range would suffice? Also, drinks--$10 for my Lillet concoction and $12 for a Bellini. However, other items are extremely reasonable for the quality -- french toast was only $10 -- about the same as many a trendy yet flavorless spot in our hipster neighborhood.

I must also give big kudos to our waitress who graciously served our friends when they arrived well after the kitchen closed--she brought bread and pastries, and kept offering to refill our coffee cups long after every other table emptied. The epitome of excellent service.

Campanile
624 S La Brea Ave
Los Angeles, CA 90036-3568
(323) 938-1447

Erin's Kitchen Restaurant Index: West-ish

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

DENIED

This was posted in the LA Times Food Section on Wednesday--

If you've been itching to check out Secret Restaurant the invitation-only, cash-in-an-envelope dinner prepared by L.A. chefs-du-moment at Marvimon House near Chinatown, now's your chance. On Saturday, New York composer-pianist Andrew Shapiro will perform new works there on a Steinway concert grand. The chefs, who host Miguel Nelson says will be an ensemble from Lucques and Grace and AOC, are still working on the menu. They're actually trying to pair the food and the drink to the music that's being played at the time you're tasting, he says. Shows are at 7 p.m. and 11 p.m. $65 per person, including cocktails. For tickets, e-mail marvimonrsvp-yahoo.com.

Sounds cool right? Too cool, as it turns out-

To-marvimonrsvp
From-erin
Subj-2 tix for Sat, 11 pm

Hi there,
I'd like to reserve two spaces for Saturday's event at 11 pm.
Thank you, Erin

To-erin
From-Sherry
Re-2 tix for Sat, 11 pm

thanks for your interest. this event is totally private, so i need to know how you were invited in order to proceed.

To-Sherry Walsh/marvimonrsvp
From-Erin
Re-Sat

Hi Sherry,
There was a blurb in the LA times about the event with this email as a RSVP, so I assumed anyone could buy tix.
Thanks, Erin

To-Erin
From-Sherry Walsh/marvimonrsvp
Re-Sat

i know. sorry for the confusion. the times was not given permission to print the details of our private event. we have been forced to cancel it.

-----

Poor Sherry. Think of how many emails to mere plebians she's had to send this week.

Easy Weeknight Meals: Turkey Meatballs

Cook at home on Friday night? The recipe better be exceedingly easy but also damn delicious. At least in my world, the temptation to eat out Friday night is huge after a busy week of work.

Last Friday, temptation was resisted here in LaLa Land--we were saved by turkey meatballs. Well, to be honest our savior was Ms. 30 Minute Meals herself, Rachael Ray. I've never actually seen her show, but I've picked up her new mag, Every Day with Rachael Ray and actually like its tone and layout (once I got over the pics of her smiling mug on every other page). I adapted her recipe a bit, cooked up a pot of buttered egg noodles, and we were good to go. Um, good to go spend our saved dinner-out money on drinks instead.

Turkey Meatballs

1 lb. ground turkey (Trader Joe's usually has good stuff)
1/2 onion, diced finely
2 garlic cloves, diced finely
1 egg
1/4 c. milk
1/2 c. bread crumbs
1/4 c. freshly grated parmesan cheese
salt and pepper
1 tsp. pizza-like seasonings (I used my free sample of Penzey's pizza seasoning, a mix of fennel, oregeno, etc)
Olive oil (okay, EVOO if you must)

1) Preheat ove to 400.
2) In a large bowl, mix the turkey, onion, garlic, milk, bread crumbs, cheese, and seasonings. Don't be a wimp; go ahead and use your hands.
3) Once mixed, shape into eight largish meatballs and place on a baking sheet.
4) Drizzle with olive oil, put in the oven, and cook for 25 minutes. While you wait, toast the fact that it's Friday with a big ol' glass of wine.

Erin's Kitchen Recipe Index: Easy Weeknight Meals

Favorite Things Saturday: Hitachino Nest White Ale

My friend Jill has begun Favorite Things Saturday for folks to share things, ideas and places they love. My list of favorite foods and drinks is probably infinite, but I'll start with Hitachino Nest White Ale. I discovered this Japanese brew at Buddha's Belly, an otherwise fairly forgettable restaurant. It's crisp, pleasantly sour and slightly citrus. A crumpled receipt with the name scrawled on it had been floating around my kitchen for over a year, but I never saw it in the store. Finally, on a recent trip to the restaurant supply store Surfas, I saw this little pink owl looking up at me from a stack near the check-out line. And I just had to take him (and lots of his friends) home.

SHF #17: Goat Cheese and Lemon Cheesecake

From the 405 to the 710 to the 5--all the way home from Laguna Beach, all I could think about was my cheesecake, sitting patiently in my fridge. 10 p.m. on the dot, I open my front door, zoom straight to the fridge, and pull 'er out. No cracks, perfectly browned crust, she still looks as good as she did when I carefully placed her on the shelf the night before. A few minutes later, slice on plate, fork in mouth--yum.


I can't truly trace the genisis of the goat cheese idea. On my way to the market, as I ruminated on the dairy theme for this month's Sugar High Friday, it seemed to pop in my head out of nowhere. I picked up what I thought I might need, and went home to scour the internet and my cookbooks for recipes. I found precious little in the sweet category, except for an Emeril Legasse version featuring too much sugar for my tastes, Grand Marnier (blech), and a lot of sour cream (double blech). So I struck out on my own, with a bit of guidance from Joy of Cooking, which gives dire warnings of the dangers of omitting a waterbath for the cake. I threw caution to the wind, baked her in the springform pan alone, and was quite pleased with the results.

Goat Cheese and Lemon Cheesecake

or

Lemon and Goat Cheesecake

or

Goat and Lemon Cheesecake (well, maybe not)

1 c. ground walnuts
4 tbsp. melted butter
16 oz. cream cheese, room temperature
12 oz. goat cheese, room temperature
1 c. sugar
4 eggs, room temperature
zest and juice of 1-2 lemons
1 tsp. vanilla

Preheat oven to 325. Mix ground walnuts and butter in a medium bowl. Press mixture into the bottom of your favorite springform pan, which you have already buttered/greased. Put crusty pan in fridge until you need it later. Once you are sure your cream cheese is soft enough, toss it in your stand mixer or a big ol' bowl and mix on medium speed until smooth. Mix in yer goat cheese until blended, then add and blend in sugar. One at a time, add your eggs. Toss the zest, lemon juice and vanilla in, mix a bit more until incorporated. Pour mixture into crust-lined pan, and bake for approx. 55 minutes, until sides are set and middle's just a tiny bit jiggly. Cool completely on a rack, then force yourself to be patient and put it in the fridge for 24 hours. It's worth the wait.

Note: Most every recipe I looked at included about 1/2 c. of cream as well. I didn't have any, so I didn't use any, and I liked the consistency of my cheesecake just fine. If you're a supersmooth kinda person, you many want to add it.

shf17 + SHF + sugar high friday

Erin's Kitchen Recipe Index: Cookies, Cakes, Breads and Other Treats

French Fried

I have not been kind to my arteries this week. Three of the past five nights, french fries (or their close cousin, the onion ring) have magically appeared on my plate and I was forced to eat them. If you count "ordering" as magic, I suppose. In my defense….hmmmm…can’t think of anything. Howabout a fry moratorium for the next few weeks? In the meantime, I can relive the decadence through the following reports.

1) Friday, 8 p.m., Good Microbrew and Grill (Silverlake)
I think J and I spent as much time deciding to eat here as we did actually eating. Ultimately, the allure of casual Friday night beers outweighed any desire for delectable dining. Good’s a beer place first and foremost, with a list of hundreds. Though the food descriptions are intensely adjective-d, it’s your basic bar menu. My turkey sandwich was surrounded by golden brown onion rings, freshly battered and fried. It also came with a side of Like A Prayer—Good has a gazillion TVs and all were (loudly) tuned to Madonna’s most recent concert.

2) Monday, 10 p.m., The Brite Spot (Echo Park)
The Brite Spot is an old school LA diner that has turned slightly new school to accommodate the neighborhood influx of hipsters. Nearly every item on the extensive menu has a vegan option, and on most of our visits we’ve seen many more headbanded mullets than uniforms of its chili’s namesake, the LA Fire Department. Open ‘til 4 a.m., I much prefer its simple sandwiches and veggie soup to the other nearby all-night diner, Fred 62. Despite the healthier options of cottage cheese or fresh fruit, my tired brain was lured by the side of fries to accompany my BLT. Here they’re thin and crisp, sprinkled with a slightly spicy red powder. Per no request of ours, our waitress brought us not one but two containers of jiggly mayo for the fries, and seemed disappointed that we didn’t partake.

3) Tuesday, 6:00 p.m., In&Out Burger (Oakland, CA)
After a day of briefing Congressional candidates on U.S. nuclear weapons policies, but before depositing my rental and facing the hordes at the Southwest terminal of the Oakland aiport, I needed simple and fast sustenence. After ordering my cheeseburger and fries, I zoned out and watched the fry boy shove potato after potato in the magical slicing machine (basically, an industrial strength mandoline). Shoomp. Shoomp. Shoomp. They had to call my number 4 times before I awoke from my reverie. Of course, the fries were worth it.

Good Microbrew and Grill
3725 W Sunset Blvd
Los Angeles, CA 90026-1527
(323) 660-3645

The Brite Spot
1918 W Sunset Blvd
Los Angeles, CA 90026-3229
(213) 484-9800

In&Out
Find the one closest to you here

photo by jbelluch

Restaurant Index: Los Angeles: East-ish

Roatan Report, Part 2: Plantains and Shrimp

Considering we were surrounded on all sides by the Caribbean, it’s no surprise that seafood played a starring role in most of our meals on Roatan. Of course, access to fantastically fresh lobster, fish and shrimp doesn’t automatically translate into restaurants that know how to cook it, and we had a few overdone lobsters during our trip. However, we found fried seafood a universally safe bet, and multiple joints served amazing conch soup, often in a yellow curry base, with a side of homemade coconut bread.


Our condo’s kitchen was well-appointed and our table with a view of the ocean beckoned, so we did cook for ourselves a few nights. Though the grocery store had little to offer, the pick-up trucks lining the streets of West End were laden with pineapples, plantains, avocados and other home-grown veggies. We also managed to discover a seafood vendor (again, from the back of a truck) and picked up a pound of shrimp for a ridiculously low price. Hence, our favorite island supper consisted of rice, plantain chips, and shrimp sauteed in garlic and butter. In particular, I was pleased with the plaintain chips—peeling them is a ridiculous exercise (I was without this tool the NYT profiled recently), but it was worth the effort. When you take a bite, the crispy, salty exteriors give way to creamy, sweet, slightly starchy insides—an evocative island food.

Plantain Chips

firm plantains
vegetable oil
salt
lime juice

Warning: This is less of a recipe, and more like general instructions—I know it’s kind of vague.
First, you want to slice and peel your plantains. I found the easiest way to peel was to slice into ½ inch pieces first, make a small cut in the peel on each slice, and then pull the peels off. Then, heat your oil over medium heat—I used about ¼ c of oil for two large plantains, but it use your judgement based on the quantity of your plantains. Once oil is heated, toss in your slices and salt liberally. Turn heat to medium-low, and fry for quite awhile—up to 20 minutes. The time will depend on the ripeness of your plantains. I just kept testing slices along the way until you like the taste. When done frying, let them drain on a paper towel-lined plate. After a few minutes, transfer to serving dish and squeeze lime juice on them to taste.

Recipe Index: Cookies, Cakes, Breads and Other Treats

Refuel at Ford's Filling Station

Last week's vacation means this week I'm working late. When I stay at the office past 8, if I ask J nicely, he'll come pick me up and we'll visit somewhere nearby for dinner. Last night we decided to sample Ford's Filling Station, a new spot that already has Angelenos talking (See here and here).

We followed our usual method and grabbed a couple stools at the bar--these were precious commodities, as the host explained they're still waiting on a shipment of stools--hence a few of the tables in the bar are currently chair-less.

The menu begins with an interesting list of cured meats. We decided to share a mix of sweet sopprasetta, smoked paprika sausage and proscuitto. All were excellent, particularly the proscuitto (a good reminder that not all proscuittos are equal--why do we ever buy the junk at Albertson's??). However, the large serving of meat came with merely three small slices of french bread. I like my meat as much as the next Wisconsin girl, but particularly with the proscuitto, I like a little starch with it too.

For main courses, I settled on the walleye pike with fennel mash and leek cream, two of my favorite veggies. J hemmed and hawed, vascillating between the steak or leg of lamb, but finally kept it simple and went for the chopped sirloin burger, with blue cheese and carmelized onions. The walleye, a fish you don't see often in restaurants, came with the top skin intact and nicely grilled. The creamy flesh matched well with the spicy fennel and sweet leeks. According to J, the burger wasn't as good as the Hungry Cat's or even Nick and Stef's, but it satisfied. The fries received high praise, crispy, potato-y, and sprinkled with chopped herbs.

J was sucked in by the butterscotch pudding for dessert (one of his favorite flavors from childhood, I now know). I shared a few bites, but it didn't do much for me--too sweet.

One final note, they have a great wine list. It's a bit pricey, but we had some excellent glasses. I started with a Paige 23 Syrah from Santa Barbara, and the bartender paired a nice glass of Sancerre with my fish.

Ford's fits nicely in the neighborhood, and I'm always happy to have new places near my office. It was already packed last night, and I'm sure once the inevitable LA Times review hits the stands, strolling in for a seat at the bar will be difficult, so sneak in while ya can.

Ford's Filling Station
9531 Culver Blvd
Culver City, CA 90230
(310) 202-1470