Summer in Motor City

For $1, vending machines at Wayne State University in Detroit, Michigan provided the best culinary experience of my recent trip to Motor City--a sugary, chin-dripping, delectable ice cream respite from the sticky weather.

fried perch po'boy with yam fries

With limited time, transportation, and knowledge of the city, I'm sure I missed out on some treasures, but what I was able to sample didn't impress. The menu at the refurbished Majestic Cafe promised interesting grub, but the food didn't quite deliver. My yummy yam fries couldn't make up for the paltry portion of perch in my po'boy sandwich, especially considering the ginormous bun. The Majestic is central on a revitalized strip near downtown Detroit, abutting a hipster bowling alley, the city's main concert hall, and a handful of similar restaurants. It's the type of place that has an ambitious menu, and everything has an adjective/twist--the po'boy doesn't come with tartar sauce, it comes with chipotle tartar sauce. The steak doesn't come with fried onions, it comes with fried cumin-scented onions. Oh and that vinaigrette? It's a basil vinaigrette. Unfortunately, the Majestic makes flavor promises it can't keep.

The Majestic Cafe

4120-4140 Woodward Avenue Detroit, MI

313.833.9700 ext.207

On a non-food and pro-Detroit note, my work conference happened to coincide with the annual Concert of Colors--an amazing cultural event. For three nights, the main concert hall hosts musical acts from all over the world--all for free. On Sunday night we managed great seats for the incredibly energetic and inspiring Michael Franti/Spearhead concert--a real treat.

Earning your Steak and Potatos

White Wolf Lodge in Yosemite National Park (unfortunately, mosquitoes made dinner on the porch impossible)

Earlier this month, J and I spent the week of the 4th camping with his folks in Yosemite National Park. This was our second visit, and I can't recommend it enough--as long as you don't stay in the busy Valley--opt for a first-come, first-serve campground on either Tioga Road or at Glacier Point. The spacious but more primitive campgrounds discourage the maddening crowds.

We both come from do-it-yourself hardcore camp cooking families, and take pride in packing and planning fabulous homemade meals for our outdoor vacations. For the bulk of this trip we relied on our farmers' market and Trader Joe's cache--mixing up chili, grilling salmon and savoring "hobo dinners" (hamburger, potatos, squash and onions in a tinfoil packet over the fire). However, for our last adventure, we took a marathon hike of 10 often steep miles to North Dome, a point right next to Half Dome, one of the gems of the park, and ended the day dead tired. Luckily, we had made reservations at the restaurant at White Wolf Lodge, the high sierra camp situated near our campsite off Tioga Road.

view of Half Dome from our hiking destination, North Dome

For back country campers not wanting to lug food and shelter, the high sierra camps are a series of platform tent camps, approx. 10 miles apart that you can hike to in a day and stay the night. White Wolf Lodge has been around for ages, and every night the restaurant serves a prix fix, family style meal, aimed at satiating hungry hikers. For $25 bucks a head, we enjoyed cheddar-beer soup, cesar salad, a baked potato as big as a softball, a juicy, pink steak and homemade blueberry pie with real berries and real crust. Alcohol was extra and worth it--the Yosemite Pale Ale did the local brewers proud. Plus, we sat next to a lovely family with two teenage boys that had stayed awake the previous night watching for bears outside their tent (their mom shared the story as the boys cringed). The simple, hearty dinner tasted all the better for our hard work that day, and there's no better nightcap than a walk back to one's tent under the silent stars.

White Wolf Lodge
off Tioga Road, Yosemite National Park
Reservations (definitely recommended): 1-559-253-5635

Going Local: Passion Flower Fruit

The fruit of the blue passion flower falls into the category of wild growing foods that "look like they might but they won't" poison you. If you live in southern California (or South/Central America), you've likely seen these blue flowers and their subsequent orange fruits creeping across backyards in your neighborhood. I hit the jackpot of passion flower fruits, however, when I realized the chainlink fence enclosing parking lot near my office was absolutely covered with the orange buggers. So on a night when I knew I'd have plenty of time to deal with them, I harvested a shopping-bag full.

the actual passion flower and a few green fruits

Related to the somewhat more familiar passionfruit, these fragrant pouches are delightful to peel. You take off the loose, pithy skin and reveal a glob of blood-red seeds held together by a gelatinous membrane (I make it sound delicious, don't I?). Smaller but similar in texture to pomegranate seeds, the insides taste flowery, tangily sweet and slightly bitter.

brains or seeds??

I didn't find much on the internet in terms of recipes; instead I discovered that when found wild they're often eaten out of hand and called "maypops", "water lemons", "golden bell apples", or "granadillas". Also, if you boil the leaves or steep parts of the plant, you can make a drink tinged with just enough cyanide to make you sleepy and reduce stress. (Various reports differ depending on the species--obviously, I would not recommend trying this at home).

messy bowl of strained passion flower fruit curd

Anyway, remembering a long-ago consumed passionfruit curd, I decided to try the same with these close cousins. It turned out just okay--the flavor of the fruits is quite delicate and the egginess of the curd kind-of overwhelmed it. Perhaps a shot or two of lime juice could have punched it up, or I might have been better off just serving the seeds over some vanilla ice cream. Regardless, a fun experiment and a harvest I'll probably repeat on occasion. And now you know--next time you walk by a ripe vine, pop a fruit off and enjoy an exotic snack!

Thanks Russ!

prosciutto wrapped halibut, cherry tomato salad, grilled figs

Russ Parsons, writer for the Los Angeles Times food section, is one of my favorite culinary journalists. From him, I learned about local mozzarella, discovered how to pick a carving knife, and keep up-to-date about the ripest produce at the farmers' markets.

The latest Parsons' tip I've picked up involves prosciutto and halibut, independent proof of one of my core cooking theories: bacon makes everything better. In his recent article, Summer and Smoke, he recommends grilling halibut wrapped in prosciutto. Citing the lack of fat in the fish and its tendency to stick to the grill, he explains that the prosciutto keeps the fish moist and prevents a flaky mess. Beyond the practicalities of the recipe, it also tastes damn good, especially if you follow Mr. Parsons' other recommendation (and the actual purpose of the article): grilling over wood chips. Smoky, salty, crispy fabulousness. Oh, and did I mention its easy? Salt and pepper your halibut, wrap in prosciutto, stick 'er in the fridge for a bit, and then grill (check out the article if you actually need a recipe).

Erin's Kitchen Recipe Index: Meats and Fishes

Pig Roast and a Party Dress

mashed sweet potatos, slab o' pig and skin, paella

What better way to kick-off the 4th of July weekend than a Friday night pig roast? But of course, because this is Los Angeles, its a gussied up pig roast at a chi-chi-la-la restaurant--the kind you can wear your fab new party dress, if you're inclined to do so.

Norman's, the eponymous West Hollywood "New World Cuisine" restaurant of James Beard award-winning chef Norman Van Aken, roasts a whole pig every Friday night, and serves it up with a side of paella, mashed sweet potatos and coleslaw for a mere $19. According to the waiter, they inject it with a brine well before roasting. Whatever they do to it, it's magic because it was the most tender, succulent, flavorful pork I've ever eaten. You could practically cut it with a fork. And don't even get me started on the crispy pig skins--pork rinds, cracklins, chicharrones, whatever the name, it was a little bit of heaven.

While the pig was a great deal, the prices on the rest of the menu reflect this spot's high-end nature. Not to say our prepared-tableside ceviche, chocolate-strawberry-vanilla-orange dessert, glass of champagne, glass of shiraz and glass of dessert wine weren't all fabulous--they were--but it makes for an expensive meal, so be forewarned (or come equipped with more resolve than we did to keep it cheap!).

strawberry-filled filo packet with chocolate mousse and vanilla-orange ice cream

A final note: overall, the service was very attentive. When I called a 1/2 hour before our 7 pm reservation to see if we could switch to 7:30, the hostess replied, "no problem!" We were seated on the patio, and didn't feel like we'd been forgotten as can sometimes happen. New napkins were brought when we went to the restroom, and the tableside ceviche presentation was pleasant, not overwrought. However, our waiter was strangely unknowledgable about some things and a bit pushy. For example, when asked about the menu's foreign-to-us apertifs, his response was, "Well, that one tastes a bit strong, while the other is more mild." Huh? Also, well after we'd finished our dessert, and after having asked twice about coffee, he came around not with our check, but just to triple-check that we didn't want coffee? cappuchino? are you sure? YES WE'RE SURE.

These minor blips aside, I can't recommend the pig roast enough--I'm not afraid to state definitively that it will be some of the best pork, if not the best, you've had in your life. Plus, you get to dress up and look fab while you eat it--who can argue with that?

Norman's
8570 Sunset Blvd.
West Hollywood, CA 90069
310-657-2400
closed Sunday and Monday
note: They have a great online reservation system, and valet parking at $7 is cheaper than self parking in the same building at $10.
PS--Also, be sure to spend some time peering in the glass-walled kitchen; it's quite fun to watch the chefs at work--though I don't know if I'd like that kind of scrutiny!

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

Gonzo for Fresh Garbanzos

"Try a fresh garbanzo bean! Garbanzos—right here!” called the woman at the Flora Bella Farm stand at the Hollywood Farmers’ Market. She popped a green oval pod off the branch and showed customers how to break into it. Bright green, sweet and crunchy, the fresh bean bares little resemblance to the yellowy soft ones from a can.

J. snip, snip, snips

Fresh garbanzos come 1-2 per pod, and are usually sold in huge bunches, still on the stalk. For $5, we walked off with an enormous armload. With J's help, scissors made fast work of removing the pods from the stems. As you can see, we ended up with two huge bowlfuls--enough to freeze some, toss some in the fridge, and still eat a sizable portion that night.

J. is so helpful (because he's so damn hungry-shelling took awhile)!

Following the recommendation of the farm stand lady, we threw the garbanzos (with shell intact) on the grill, in a tinfoil packet with a liberal dose of salt, pepper and olive oil, for about 18 minutes. We let the packet cool and then popped the beans out of their shells.


We used the cooked beans in a grilled zucchini and tomato panzanella (basically, bread salad), enjoying the smoky grill flavor and the still present crunch.

You can also saute the buggers. Last night, after shelling, I added a large handful of beans to my pan full of cubed summer squash, potatos and fennel. After just 10 minutes over medium-high heat, they were good to go--similar in texture as when grilled, but without the smoky flavor. Next up I'm planning some "fresh" hummus....who knew?

Herbed Skillet Breads

Until my thumb turns greener (you don't want to know how many thyme plants I've killed), I'm stuck buying fresh herbs at the farmers' market, and I always end up with more than I need. Despite my best intentions, I rarely use up an entire bundle of herbs before it goes bad or dries out (as the fastly-filling baggie of dried rosemary in my cupboard attests).

Therefore, it is only because of my concern for waste (not my waist) that I'll be making these herb skillet breads as much as possible. It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that they're addictively crispy and fabulously carb-tastic. Nope. Nothing at all.

Herbed Skillet Breads
adapted from The Herbal Kitchen by Mark Traunfeld

2 1/2 c. flour, plus extra for dusting
1 c. boiling water
olive oil
4 cloves garlic, pressed
approx. 1/2 c. chopped fresh herbs (I used a mix of tarragon, sage and parsley)
salt

Put the flour in a food processor and, with the motor running, pour in the boiling water. Process for about 15 seconds to knead the ball of dough that will form. Put the dough in a lightly oiled bowl, cover tightly with plastic wrap, and let it rest and cool for 30 minutes.

Heat 1/4 c. olive oil with the garlic in a small skillet over medium-low heat until the garlic cooks but does not brown. Set aside.

Turn the dough out onto a floured board and cut it into six equal pieces. Roll one of the pieces into a thin 9-inch circle, rotating it a quarter turn between rolls and using as much flour as needed to keep it from sticking.

my "circle" of dough

Brush the dough with some of the garlic oil and sprinkle it evenly with your herbs and a bit of salt. Roll up the circle from one end so you end up with a tube shape (like a jelly roll). I dipped my finger in some water and ran it lengthwise along the roll to help seal it. Next, coil your tube into a spiral like a snail, and fasten the loose end again (the water method comes in handy here too).

I had a hard time getting the end to attach back to the coil, and used water to "glue" it.

Roll the spiral into a flat cake about 7 inches in diameter; a few herb pieces may poke out of the dough and that's okay. Roll and fill the remaining pieces of dough in the same way.


Heat 1 tbsp. olive oil in a large skillet. Slip in one of the breads, turn the heat to medium-low, and cook until the underside is brown and the top puffs a little, approximately 1-2 minutes. Flip the bread and brown the other side. Remove to a plate covered with a paper towel. Repeat process with remaining breads, adding oil as needed. Sprinkle with a bit more kosher salt before serving if ya like.

Bluebird Bakery

I stopped at this Culver City spot a month ago for cupcakes only, and wasn't very impressed. The outdoor patio, though, plus a hankering for someplace new brought me back for lunch. The short menu includes your typical cold sandwiches, paninis and salads--all at a comparable (if not a bit higher) price point to the nearby Cafe Surfas, but with lower quality ingredients and much less creativity.

I went for the soup (mushroom) , 1/2 sandwich (tomato, basil and mozzarella) and green salad combo for $9. As you can see, the sandwich was large--1/2 of what, exactly? Good cheese, ripe tomatos and ridiculous gigantic basil leaves that tasted so licoricy that I removed them. The soup, not too creamy, had a pronounced wild mushroom flavor--I should have asked what mushrooms were used. The salad, unfortunately, was flavorless--strangely, the tomatos on it were from a totally different planet than those in the sandwich.

Since our office is moving to Koreatown soon (yay!), I will likely never return to Bluebird and that's perfectly okay with me.

Bluebird Bakery
8572 National Blvd
Culver City, CA 90232
(310) 841-0939

Erin's Kitchen Restaurant Index: West-ish

Ghetto Gourmet Report: Creating Community

our musical entertainment for the evening, and a glimpse of the Ghetto Gourmet flag

To my left, a college professor and radio producer; across the table a lawyer-turned-TV-writer and a fashion designer; to my right, the girlfriends of our musical entertainers, who thought they were just coming over for a house party. And they were--sort-of. There was food, there was booze--and 25 people Indian-style on the floor around doors-turned-tables, all of whom had paid $40 to sit with strangers and eat a five course meal prepared by chef Cynthia Washburn, in the smallest Silver Lake kitchen you can imagine.

According to our host, Jeremy, the Ghetto Gourmet began as a way for his brother, who'd been working in restaurants in San Francisco, to try out his own cooking without the crippling cost of opening an actual restaurant. What started as a dinner for a small group of friends who all split the grocery receipts has turned into an underground phenomenon in the Bay area, and this was its first venture to Los Angeles.

Dinner was yummy--not the most amazing food I've ever had, but a creative, well-executed meal--especially the grapefruit and jicama salad with sesame seeds and the chili-coconut crusted seared ahi. What was amazing was the live jazz, the stand-up comedy (!), the sense of community created by sharing a meal. Over the course of our three-hour meal, wine was shared, stories were swapped, friends were made. I highly recommend attending a Ghetto Gourmet dinner if you can--it makes ya feel a bit better about the human race.

Saito's Sushi

The strip mall at the corner of Sunset and Fountain in Silver Lake epitomizes what I love about Los Angeles. A laundromat, nail salon, and massage parlor all join yummy Indian (Agra Cafe), Thai (Nadpob), and sushi (Saito's Sushi) in ringing a tightly packed parking lot, with a 24-hour donut shop full of chess players tacked on the end for good measure.

J and I had not set foot in Saito's Sushi prior to last night, and as we discussed over some of the best albacore sashimi I've ever had, we've been missing out. Normally, I'm not much of a sashimi fan; I never had sushi or maki until I went to college and then I was mainly a California roll kinda gal. My palate has grown by leaps and bounds since then, but sometimes a whole plate of sashimi is just too much fish for me. Not Saito's albacore, though. This practically melted in my mouth, and I was immediately glad we took his recommendation that we start with it.

Saito is the lone sushi chef behind the bar, a smiling presence who chats easily about the latest World Cup scores while whipping up plate after plate of pristine fish for customers of his small but crowded restaurant. Eating at a one-man operation like Saito's seems to encourage patrons to relax, wait their turn and perhaps interact with their neighbors; also, I think it reminds us harried, demanding Western eaters to respect the craft of the person making our food.

After the sashimi, J and I sampled yellowtail sushi, a salmon roll, aji (spanish mackerel) sushi, and spicy tuna nigiri (handroll). Everything was as fresh and flavorful as our starting dish, presented carefully, and the portions were very large. Bowls of miso soup and a shared Sapporo rounded out our meal.

A word of caution: Saito's is not cheap. It was a bit of a jolt for both of us when the bill came -- $80, $65 of which was line itemed just as "sushi". There is no printed menu at Saito's, so you're in the dark on individual prices. I know compared to the Masa's and Urasawa's of the world, that's nothing, but it was more than we usually spend on a casual weeknight meal out. However, I think the price was reasonable considering the quality and the service, and compared to the couple next to us who ordered plate of sashimi after plate of sashimi after plate of sashimi, I'm sure we got outta there on the cheap end of things!

Saito's Sushi
4339 W Sunset Blvd
Los Angeles, CA 90029-2111
(323) 663-8890

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

Apple is the New Jicama

Though I may not have looked hard enough, I couldn't find jicama, the crunchy, sweet root vegetable, at the farmers' market this weekend. Still wanting to add snap and sugar to my corn and black bean salad for my BBQ, I decided to grab some fuji apples instead. While sweeter but not quite as crisp as diced jicama, the apples still worked. Though the dressing is full of citrus, I recommend rubbing the apple pieces with a cut lemon as you dice to further slow the browning. The picture to the left was taken when I ate the salad as leftovers last night, and the apples were still holding up quite well. Also, rinsing your beans prior to mixing ensures that their blackish-brownish juices won't stain the entire salad, allowing the other summer colors to shine.

Corn, Black Bean and Apple Salad
adapted from Bon Appetit July '04 and enough for 8-10 people as one of many side dishes

4 ears of sweet corn, boiled or grilled
3 medium carrots, diced
3-4 green onions, thinly sliced
1 can black beans, drained and rinsed
2 fuji apples, diced
juice from 1 lime
juice from 1/2 lemon
2-3 big slugs of olive oil
small handful of fresh basil

Into a large bowl, using a sharp knife, scrape the corn kernals off the cobs. Add the carrots, green onions, beans and apples. In a separate bowl, whisk together lime juice, lemon juice, olive oil, salt and pepper. Pour dressing over corn/bean mixture and stir. If you aren't ready to serve it yet, cover and put in the fridge at this point. When you want to eat it, take it out and let it warm up for 10-15 minutes on the table, then tear the fresh basil leaves into pieces over the salad and gently mix in.

Erin's Kitchen Index: Soups, Salads, and Veggies

A bit of navel-gazing

Well, inspired by the folks at Food Blog S'cool, I've updated my "About Me" section and you can now learn more than you really want to here.

Also, if you'd like to email me, I can now be reached at erinskitchen [[at]] gmail [[dot]] com.

Back to food shortly, I promise.

Boyfriend Chicken

Since I got this recipe from a friend of a friend, I can only speculate that this is called boyfriend chicken because any man who eats it will want to stay with you indefinitely, or at least until he can steal the recipe. It went so fast at today's BBQ, I didn't even remember to take a picture. Couple recommendations for full boyfriend-luring capabilities: make sure you marinate your chicken overnight, and it tastes much better if you eat it with your hands.

The BBQ aftermath...

Boyfriend Chicken

1 whole chicken, cut into 8 pieces

¼ coarse chopped parsley
¾ cup chopped cilantro
5 large garlic cloves
1 ½ tsp each:

• Kosher salt
• Paprika
• Ground cumin

½ tsp dried thyme
¼ tsp cayenne pepper
1/3 cup olive oil
1/3 cup fresh lemon juice

Place all ingredients except oil and lemon juice in food processor and process until a paste forms. Pour oil and lemon juice into processor as its running until well blended. Place marinade into sturdy ziploc bag with your chicken, put in the fridge until ready to grill.

Going Local: Massachusetts Strawberry-Rhubarb Compote

Maple-brined pork chops with strawberry-rhubarb compote and sage risotto

My vegetarian friend Emily kindly shared a jar of her homemade strawberry-rhubarb compote when I visited her in Massachusetts last month. Despite her generosity, I used the delicious concoction on none other than a pork chop, anathema to her anti-meat ways. She, too, has been bit by the eat-local bug--in a much more difficult clime than California. One of her solutions? Canning--with the help of the book Preserving the Harvest. Because there's no doubt this compote will taste even better in the middle of a Massachusetts winter!

To ensure your chops are moist through and through (even if you leave them on the grill a bit too long--oops!), I highly recommend brining them, which causes meat to absorb liquid, for at least 12 hours before grilling. I used this Maple Brined Pork Chops recipe courtesy of Epicurious.

The Cooking Class Debate

My post last week on my disappointing experience at the New School of Cooking has sparked a bit of a conversation among readers. First off, I'm unfortunately not alone in my frustration with New School Classes.

Secondly, commenter Terila mentioned wanting more demonstration, less participation in cooking classes, and her difficulty finding that formula in Los Angeles. Personally, I usually prefer participation--as long as I'm interacting closely with the instructor, getting constructive criticism, and learning new techniques, not just following a recipe alone as I would in my own kitchen. In fact, my major complaint about my class at the New School wasn't that we all participated, but the kind of participation we engaged in. I wanted to debone my own chicken, dammit (and the description led me to believe I would)!

Finally, I wanted to highlight Chefs Inc, mentioned by Terila, and then represented by Helena in the comments. It's a school I hadn't heard of, but looks to have classes with a good mix of participation and demonstration. Anyone taken a class there? Or have other schools they'd recommend? As I've noted before, I'm a big fan of Be Gourmet in Silver Lake.

Weekend Small Bites

Indian Wedding 101: Even without the delicious chaat (savory snacks--including addictive sweet/spicy corn samosas) at the Friday night Raas Garba dance (with sticks!), the wedding we attended this weekend wins the prize for best wedding food ever due to the mango ice cream served during the hot and sunny outdoor ceremony. It tasted like a frozen mango lassi.

New Gelato in Los Feliz: At today's Los Feliz Street fair, had some free samples from the Hollywood Gelato Co, opening in July on Hillhurst Ave, just north of Franklin. Tried hazelnut and tequila lime--they also had mango and chocolate. My gelato expertise is non-existant, but on hot days this summer, the hazelnut especially will induce me to stop by.

Brunch with a New Friend: Cafe Chloe in San Diego is the perfect place to talk politics and sip coffee with a foodblogging friend. J and I met up with the delightful Rorie of Milk and Honey and her husband Matt for brunch at this sunny spot, thoroughly enjoying both the food (and more importantly) the company. I had poached eggs on toast with wild mushrooms, a buttery, rich, yummy mess. The menu's quite extensive and more sophisticated than your usual brunch fare--cheese plates, fruit plates, fresh fruit bread pudding. The coffee (the most important part of brunch--we all agreed) was good and refills were plentiful, as we kvetched about apathetic voters and savored our meal.

Going Local: Dr. Bob's Ice Cream

Dr. Bob's Tahitian Vanilla ice cream with nectarines

In the summer, my favorite dessert is simply fresh fruit and vanilla ice cream--preferably consumed outdoors. While nothing will ever beat Herrell's malted vanilla, numerous pints of which I consumed during my college days, Dr. Bob's Tahitian Vanilla comes close.

Dr. Bob, a professor at Cal-Poly Pomona, began selling his ice cream in the late 1990s, and the high butterfat treat, simply but intensely flavored, made with high quality ingredients has been a local sensation ever since. He has a "dipping store" in Upland, CA, east of Los Angeles, near Pomona, but you can find pints of his ice cream at many retail locations around California, including Gelson's, Bristol Farms, and other smaller markets. For those of you outside of Cali, he also offers overnight delivery.

At $4.99 a pint, it's of course pricier than Ben and Jerry's or other high-end brands, but the difference in taste is night and day. Dr. Bob's tastes fresh and thick and custardy, sweet but not achingly so. You taste the milk and the cow and the summer.

Mixology Monday: The Minty Citrus

Oddly-yet-endearingly-named drink blog, Kaiser Penguin, has started Mixology Mondays, and the theme for this week is mint. Having just picked up another huge bunch of the herb at the market this weekend, I'm anxious to see what other folks concoct. Meanwhile, I'll share a recent creation of J's--his cocktails are becoming a Sunday night tradition 'round these parts.

The Minty Citrus (for two)

large handful of mint leaves, rinsed and dried
juice of 5-6 blood oranges
1-2 tbsp. simple syrup (if your oranges are really sweet, you don't need this)
2 shots vodka
ice
cocktail shaker

Reserve two mint leaves for garnish; muddle the rest in your cocktail shaker (I use the end of a wooden spoon). Add ice, vodka, blood orange juice, syrup if using and shake, shake, shake. Strain into two glasses, garnish and enjoy.

Nothing New at the New School of Cooking

$75, and one so-called Chicken Fundamentals class at the New School of Cooking in Culver City, and I can't tell ya much I didn't already know about cooking said bird. Sure, now I know the difference between a poussin (baby) and a capon (old rooster), but I did not "learn how to cut up a whole bird and how to debone breasts" as the class description promised. I got to watch our instructor do it once, quickly, but there was no actual practice. Instead, our class of 14 got paired up, each pair was assigned one of a handful of different recipes, handed a tray with our ingredients, and told to go to it. We did get a brief description of each cooking technique before starting (grilling, frying, sauteing, roasting and braising), but only the most basic gloss. The two instructors walked around the kitchen area as we cooked, ready to give advice, but seemed most interested in making sure we all finished our recipes in the time allotted for class.

Needless to say, I was disappointed. This was the most expensive of the cooking classes I've taken in LA (I've also taken classes at Be Gourmet and HipCooks), and ostensibly one of the most professional schools, yet it was the worst "class" I've had. Really, it was just cooking in a nice kitchen with nifty equipment, not learning. The recipes were all decent, and I actually really liked what I made (sauteed chicken with snowpeas and shitakes), but nothing I couldn't have picked up from a cookbook or magazine.

In an attempt to feel I'd gotten my money's worth, tonight I used a recipe from the class at home: Grilled Chicken with Mediterranean Herb Paste. Verdict? Lots o' work for not much reward. The recipe will work best if your grill isn't too hot, and if you have a long-handled basting brush (otherwise you risk your arm hair). Personally, I'd prefer a marinade with these flavors for the grill, otherwise I'd use the paste as an under-skin rub when roasting a chicken, substituting butter for the olive oil.

Mediterranean Herb Paste
enough for 8-10 pieces of chicken (mix of thighs, legs, breasts)

4 cloves garlic, peeled and trimmed
handful of sage leaves
2 tsp. fresh rosemary
2 tsp. fresh thyme leaves
1 small bunch parsley, trimmed
zest of two lemons
1/2 c. olive oil
salt and pepper

Whir all ingredients in food processor or blender. According to class instructions, baste onto chicken 5 minutes before chicken is ready to come off the grill, so the paste doesn't burn (hence lower temp and long brush). According to me, add some lemon juice to the mixture and turn it into a marinade, brushing the larger pieces of herbs off the chicken before putting it on the grill. Or, sub butter for the olive oil and use as an under-skin rub for a roasted bird.

Ghetto Gourmet, Coming to LA

So there's a guy in Berkeley/Oakland that likes to host yummy dinner parties with talented chefs, for the public, at private homes. Unlike LA's snooty Secret Restaurant, anyone can sign up on the email list and if you pay before they're sold out, you're in.

You can read about the fab meals here in the San Francisco Chronicle.

They're coming to LA in a few weeks with events in Silverlake, the Valley and Mid-Wilshire. In Silverlake, $40 bucks gets ya a 4 course meal, but you gotta bring your own booze. J and I'll be there--we hope to see you too. You can find details and RSVP here.

Going Local: The End of the Beginning

Well, it's been quite a month. The Eat Local Challenge has been both harder and easier than I thought it would be. Harder, in that it takes a lot of planning, investigation and willpower (getting home late from work, I succumbed to eating out more than I would like to admit). Easier, in that California has seemingly endless bounty, and I liked the taste of my salads and leftovers for lunch a hell of a lot more than the frozen Trader Joe's entrees I usually snarf down while sitting at my desk.

This month I've eaten more fresh vegetables than ever before--sugar snap peas, carrots, artichokes, asparagus, and radishes have all graced my table in one form or another every week. While I never wrote about it, I've made multiple loaves of homemade bread, and stocked my freezer with pasta dough.

And as the title of this post indicates, the month may be over, but, for me, eating locally is not. The combination of the challenge and reading Michael Pollan's book, The Omnivore's Dilemma made me realize this is not only something I should do, but also something I can and want to do. Plus, there's so many things I didn't get to--a visit to a local farm, making my own ricotta, the art of canning. It's going to be a fun summer.

Small Bites: Post-Vacation Blahs

So, I was out of town much of last week for my (gasp!) 5 year college reunion, and have little food news to share other than Magic Hat #9 rocks, cordials at the President's house rock too (However, would you consider Midori a legit cordial??), and Smith still makes fabulous desserts, including chocolate-whisky fondue. Also, J has absconded to South Korea with my digital camera, so I'm picture-less for the week even if I was cooking. I do have a few notes for you though:

Asparagus, Asparagus, Asparagus: Kevin at Seriously Good has rounded up a gazillion different asparagus recipes from food bloggers around the globe. Very useful reference if you love the stuff but have been running out of ideas.

Food Focused Book Review: This Sunday's NYT Book Review was all about food books--memoirs, new cookbooks, chef musings on old cookbooks, how to eat ethically. Chock full of good stuff.

Masala Meaning: It just means mix. Hence masala chai, garam masala--mixes of spices. I learned this via Jeffrey Steingarten's column in this month's Vogue--all about recent travels in India. Good reading, but you'll have to buy a copy (Uma's on the cover) because it's not online.

Going Local: Like a Bee to...

Note: This post is part of an ongoing report on my efforts to eat locally for the month of May. You can read about my goals, exceptions and guidelines here.

photo courtesy of the20d

When I started the Eat Local Challenge, I knew my baking habit would be problematic, so I exempted baking staples I already had around the house--flour, sugar and such--with the promise that I wouldn't buy more during May. About two weeks in, my more-meager-than-I-thought store of white sugar ran out, yet I could think of no other use for a pint of "one more day and they're gone" softening strawberries than breakfast muffins.

My go-to muffin recipe comes from the Moosewood Restaurant's New Classics cookbook. After a peek in my cupboards, I decided I would do the vegetarian collective restaurant proud by replacing the white sugar in the recipe with local honey (from Martinez Apiaries in Baldwin Park, CA-they sell at the Hollywood Farmers' Market). The muffins were denser and smaller than usual, but the flavor didn't suffer. Packed with ripe strawberries, the mild honey allowed the fruit to shine alone. This emergency substitution may become permanent!

More Moosewood than Moosewood Strawberry Muffins

6 tbsp. butter, at room temperature
1/2 c. honey
1 egg
1/2 c plus 2 tbsp milk
1/2 tsp. vanilla extract
1 pint exceedingly ripe strawberries, chopped
2 c. flour
1 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. baking soda
1/4 tsp. salt

Preheat oven to 350. Prepare a 12-cup muffin tin by placing a paper liner in each cup.

In a mixing bowl, cream together the butter and honey until well-mixed. Beat in the egg, then the milk and vanilla; the mixture will look lumpy. With a rubber spatula, fold in the strawberries. Set aside.

In a large bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients, and add the wet ingredients. Fold together without overmixing. Spoon about 1/3 c. of the batter into each muffin cup.

Bake for 30-35 minutes, until golden. Remove muffins from oven and place on a rack to cool for about 15 minutes. Take out of the tins and cool a bit more before eating.

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

Shaved Carrot and Fennel Salad

Eating locally has turned me into a carrot-lover. For the longest time, carrots meant only one thing to me: bor-ing. I'd buy them cheap from Albertson's for mirepoix, and sometimes succumb to the convenience and "health" of the faux baby carrots to pack in my lunch, but that was the extent of the Erin-carrot relationship.

All has changed. Whether inspired by Lady Tottington or sucked in by the reds, yellows and oranges at the farmers' market, carrots have become my go-to vegetable and snack this month. They've still made their way into my lunches (and my soup), but the sweet, crunchy ones fresh from the ground are an entirely different than the "babies" I'd been buying.

This shaved salad is my latest carrot adventure, thanks to "The Edge of Greatness" in the LA Times, an article exalting thin wisps of veggies. This method worked brilliantly on the carrots--the strips maintained a crispness without the hard crunch of a bigger piece. It's also a nice visual without the hard work of cutting the carrots into small sticks or some other complicated shape.

Shaved Carrot and Fennel Salad

Pick a handful of red, yellow and orange carrots (about 4-5, depending on size) and scrub 'em up good. Peel a layer off the yellow and orange to discard if you absolutely have to, but you'll want the outside peels of your red carrots in the salad, because their insides are orange. Continuing peeling the carrots in long strips into a bowl until you're left with nubbins and/or you skin your knuckles.

Next, take 1/2 a washed fennel bulb with the outside layers removed and shave off thin pieces--I think I did about 20 or so. You can and should adjust to your taste, though remember in such small pieces the fennel isn't nearly as pungently licorice. Squeeze 1/2 lemon over the whole mess, sprinkle with freshly ground pepper and largish-grained sea salt. Toss together and enjoy.

Erin's Kitchen Index: Soups, Salads, and Veggies

Going Local, Spreading? The Farmer's Kitchen

Saw this sign in the window at the space in the back corner of the Sunset + Vine complex (Morningside Court and Selma Ave), where the Sunday Hollywood Farmers' Market begins. All I can turn up is a blurb on the Sustainable Economic Enterprise's of LA's website saying:

A community space that will extend the once-a-week presence of the Farmers' Market, the Kitchen will provide a number of services and programs to the local community, with a particular focus on assistance and nutrition education for the low-income population.

Anyone know any more? When it might open, what the program plan is, etc?

Potato, Asparagus and Spicy Sausage Hash

I mentioned this meal in a previous post, and Carrie asked for the recipe. I'm happy to oblige though I must confess there's not much of a recipe here. You will note a lack of measurements for ingredients--In my opinion, this type of dish can easily be altered to your tastes and what you have on hand--more asparagus, fewer potatos, no sausage. Obviously, the shallots and garlic will be in proportion to the overall size of your dish. One constant, however, is to cook each item separately and mix at the end--this way, nothing gets overdone. Also, I must apologize to the vegetarian Moosewood Restaurant--I got the hash idea from one of its cookbooks but I'm horrifying animal-lovers everywhere by adding pork.

Added note: This is also an entry for Asparagus Aspirations, hosted by Kevin at Seriously Good.

Potato, Asparagus and Spicy Sausage Hash

thin asparagus, trimmed and cut into 2-3 inch pieces
potatos, diced
shallots, finely chopped
garlic cloves, finely chopped
spicy pork sausage
ricotta salata (goat cheese or feta would be good too)
salt and pepper
olive oil (enough to coat potatos for roasting)

Preheat oven to 400.

Toss the diced potatos with shallots, garlic, olive oil, salt and pepper. Put mixture in an oven safe dish, and roast until potatos are fork tender, approx. 30-40 minutes.

While the potatos are cooking, get going on the asparagus. Set up ice bath (water with a bunch o' ice cubes in it). Boil a pot of salted water, toss asapargus in, cook for 2 minutes or so, remove pieces to ice bath (tongs work well for this). Drain, and set aside.

Once the asparagus is done, get going on the sausage. Remove sausage from casing by making a shallow vertical, and cut into pieces. Heat a saute pan over medium-high heat, and add the sausage, breaking up with a spoon as you cook it, so you end up with a crumbled pan o' meat. Once it's all uniformly brown, remove from heat and drain the grease. Cover and set aside.

When the potatos are done, add the mixture to the pan of sausage and mix gently. Add the asparagus and mix gently again. If you're gonna get fancy, put the hash in a serving dish and sprinkle cheese on top. If you're not, just sprinkle the cheese into the pan and serve yourself.

asparagus aspirations

Small Bites: Notes from About Town

Nippon Tartare at Tiger Lily (spicy salmon and tuna on ricecakes)

Neighborhood Disappointment: New Asian-themed Tiger Lily on Vermont in Los Feliz village isn't worth your time. It's a huge, empty space and the food is overpriced. When I say empty, I mean empty--we were there on a Friday night and had about 4 other people for company in the cavernous bar. Maybe a spot for a drink.

New to me: Blair's on Rowena in Silver Lake falls into the "Why have we never eaten here?" category--it's yummy. The starters and entrees were solid upscale American fare, but the best part was dessert--vanilla bean cream-filled donuts with coffee ice cream. The still warm and bursting donuts were the Platonic donut ideal, and the best restaurant dessert I've had in ages.

Hey Cupcake: For a recent office birthday celebration, I stopped at Bluebird Bakery in Culver City for cupcakes. The carrots ones were good (more like muffins really) but the vanilla ones tasted like they were made from a box mix. The frosting was not buttercream however, more of an icing, which was refreshing.

Reconsidered: I know I called Buddha's Belly forgettable in the past, but this week I had a fantastic spinach noodle ramen there--packed with fresh veggies and a flavorful miso broth.

Tiger Lily
1739 N. Vermont Ave.
Los Angeles, CA 90027
323-661-5900

Blair's

2903 Rowena Ave

Los Angeles, CA 90039
(323) 660-1882

Bluebird Bakery
8572 National Blvd
Culver City, CA 90232
(310) 841-0939

Buddha's Belly
7475 Beverly Blvd
Los Angeles, CA 90036
(323) 931-8588

Going Local: Grill Time

Note: This post is part of an ongoing report on my efforts to eat locally for the month of May. You can read about my goals, exceptions and guidelines here.


I have no dishwasher. This means more often than not, my kitchen is a disaster area. Rarely can J or I commit to the drudgery of the sink after a fabulous meal. Hence, in the summer I try to grill as much as humanly possible--all parts of the meal, if I can.

Sunday night was a perfect example: marinated and grilled pork loin, grilled zucchini strips, and for the first time, a tinfoil packet of thinly sliced potatos, tossed with salt, pepper and olive oil.


The pork loin came from Rocky Canyon, a farm committed to free-range, grass-fed cattle and pigs, in Atascadero, CA (north of Santa Barbara off the 101). The owner, Greg Nauta, runs the stand at the Hollywood Farmers' Market, and has coolers full of any cut of pork or beef you might want, plus homemade sausages and bacon. You can read a bit about the farm here in the Santa Monica Mirror, or visit the stand on Sunday mornings.

Here's the recipe for the pork loin marinade/sauce. It's slightly adapted from The Herbal Kitchen by Jerry Traunfeld. We used about 3/4 of it to marinate the pork for a couple hours before grilling, and saved the rest to use as a sauce (cooked down with the juices from the loin and a bit of vino verde). Be sure to bring your pork loin to room temperature before grilling.

Pork Loin Marinade

1 1/2-2 c. parsley sprigs
1/2 c. coarsely chopped sage leaves
Grated zest of 1 large citrus fruit (we used orange)
1/4 c. fresh citrus juice (we used a combo of lemon and orange)
2 tbsp. capers
3 cloves garlic
1 tbsp. salt
1/4 c. olive oil

Mix all ingredients except olive oil in a food processor and turn on for about 15 seconds. Scrape down the sides, then turn it on again and pour in the olive oil in a steady stream. To marinate, pour 3/4 of the sauce in a large, heavy-duty Ziploc bag. Add the pork loin, and smoosh around a bunch to get the sauce in every nook and cranny. Close the bag, making sure to get out all the air, and shake 'er up. Put in the fridge for at least 2 hours, if not overnight.

Going Local: Dairy Dilemma

Note: This post is part of an ongoing report on my efforts to eat locally for the month of May. You can read about my goals, exceptions and guidelines here.

As a Wisconsin girl, I’m a fan of any and all dairy products. Of course, if I still lived in Wisconsin, getting good local dairy would be easy, while in Los Angeles, it’s proved a bit of challenge. Sure, “local” dairies like Altadena aren’t hard to find—but in a huge city like LA, local doesn’t automatically mean sustainable (Altadena’s basically a factory farm these days).

So, to answer the question left in the comments by Petra last week—where can you get local dairy products in LA? Well, an exploration of Whole Foods turned up local milk from Broguiere’s dairy, based in Montebello, CA since 1920. For yogurt, I’ve had to expand my foodshed to Northern California—I’ve been eating and baking with plain yogurt from Straus Family Creamery of Marin County—a small family dairy committed to sustainable agriculture.

The best discovery so far, though, has been Cardone’s Mozzarella. Richard Cardone makes fresh ricotta, mozzarella and boccocini right here in my neighborhood and sells it at both the Silver Lake and Atwater Village Farmers' markets every weekend. It’s fabulous stuff, especially the ricotta. In fact, we like it so much it found its way into many a dish this past week—sprinkled on our ratattoulle, mixed in our potato-asparagus hash, and stuffed inside our mint and pea ravioli. The boccocini, on the other hand, don’t mix with anything other than a plate of olive oil, salt and pepper and then head into our mouths.

Cardone's ricotta on ratattoulle.

I’m still looking for more local dairy options—I’m about to run out of the butter I had in the fridge before the Eat Local Challenge began. If anyone has any recommendations, please let me know in the commetns.

Going Local: The Blue Hen

Where are the herbs? For the uninitiated (which was me until recently), you wrap your imperial rolls in a big ol' leaf of lettuce, usually incorporating carrots, cucumbers and some fresh basil, mint or cilantro.

Sometimes I think of Eagle Rock as a midwestern college town plunked down in the middle of Los Angeles. Of course there are millions of differences, but the sensibilty, particularly of the eating establishments, is the same. Small, unpretentious and reasonably priced, yet more creativity and quality than you'd expect. Anyway, it's a place we go when we're looking for quiet in this insane city.

The Blue Hen is a relatively newish addition to the eclectic mix of Eagle Rock restaurants. It's a small Vietnamese-inspired joint with a commitment to organic and local foods. Their chickens (the only meat on the menu) come from Kendor Farms, an organic, free-range place smack in the middle of the San Fernando Valley, and the produce comes from the local markets.

Despite the worthy values of the place, it could use a few tweaks. For example, considering the abundance of cheap basil and mint and cilantro at LA farmers' markets, it was strange that the Blue Hen's imperial rolls and pho came with the tiniest piles of veggies and herbs I've ever seen in a Vietnamese place. In fact, the imperial rolls came with nary an herb in sight. Also, $2.50 for a lime tonic? It was a yummy, refreshing drink--but considering it's basically lime juice and soda, a little steep.

Relatively speaking, these are minor complaints. I had a yellow curry that incorporated a nice balance of smokiness and cinammon, with a side of perfectly cooked, garlicky greens. J went for the chicken pho, and even without tons of herbs, the broth was rich and flavorful. The prices of entrees are reasonable ($7-9ish), the waitstaff friendly, and the atmosphere's pleasantly college town-esque. Plus, it's nice to see a small, low-priced place committed to local food.

The Blue Hen
1743 Colorado Blvd
Los Angeles, CA 90041
(323) 982-9900

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

Zee Carrot Zoup

One of our first meals out in LA was at Michelangelo's, a low-key pasta/pizza joint in Silverlake, run by a family of Italian-by-way-of-Venezuela brothers. On that night over three years ago, and on many nights since, our waiter has extolled the virtues of "zee carrot zoup...eet ees very good tonight."

Despite the accolades, I've never tasted their zoup, yet when looking in my fridge last Thursday, stumped as to what to make for dinner with the last of my local produce, the waiter's voice popped into my head and some gingery, curried carrot zoup was born. Interestingly, the antioxident levels increase in carrots when you cook them, so this soup also works for Sweetnicks ARF/5-a-Day Tuesdays.

The yogurt swirl is from Straus Family Creamery. Still stumped on truly local yogurt.

Zee Carrot Zoup

Start by roughly chopping a small onion, one stalk of celery, 1 1/2 lbs. carrots, and an inch square piece of fresh ginger. Toss the onion, celery and ginger in a soup pot with 1/4 c. water and a bit of butter, and cook until veggies are softened. Sprinkle with a hefty dose of curry powder, salt and pepper, then add the carrots and 4 c. of water (you could use veggie or chicken stock instead, but I was determined to stay local). Bring to a boil, then turn down to a simmer and cook 15-20 minutes until carrots are soft. Carefully and slowly whirl the soup in your blender until smooth and amazingly orange. Serve with a swirl of plain yogurt--this really helps cut the spiciness.

One sad note: I made a ton of soup and had some leftovers for lunch the next day. I found that the ginger flavor had multiplied exponentially and practically burned my throat. Not good. Maybe it needed to be cooked down a bit more?

Erin's Kitchen Index: Soups, salads and veggies

Favorite Things Saturday: The Cook's Library

The Cook's Library, combines my two favorite things, food and books, perfect for Jill's Favorite Things Saturday. The smallish, cozy yet well-stocked shop resides at 8373 W. 3rd St in Los Angeles, between La Cienega and Fairfax, and its complimentary bookmarks read: "A bookstore dedicated to the professional as well as amateur food lover and cook." The salespeople are knowledgable and friendly, willing to order any book not currently stacked on their shelves. On Friday night, I arrived just minutes before closing and the clerk graciously welcomed me, as though I had all the time in the world. I was looking for The Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollan and though I'm sure I could have found it on Amazon, it wouldn't have been as much fun.

As a side note, if you're interested in seeing Michael Pollan discuss this book--which hones in on a seemingly simple but of course endlessly complicated question: "What should we eat?"--you can join me at the downtown Los Angeles Public Library on May 10, 2006, 7 p.m. You can read more and make reservations here.

Going Local: Vermont/Adams Farmers' Market

Note: This post is part of an ongoing report on my efforts to eat locally for the month of May. You can read about my goals, exceptions and guidelines here.

Squash blossoms, debugged.

Wednesday is the farmers' market day in Los Angeles--well, Santa Monica to be exact. It's the day for the biggest and most diverse market in the greater LA region, the one that local chefs go to, the one highlighted each week on KCRW's Good Food. Yet, unless you're the aforementioned chef or collecting unemployment, it's daytime hours make it virtually impossible for us working stiffs to visit.

So, needing to refresh my local produce on Wednesday, I did not take an extra long lunch and head to the beach but instead left work just a tad early and stopped at the much smaller market in the St. Agnes Catholic Church parking lot just before the intersection of Vermont and Adams, a much poorer section of town than tony Santa Monica.

The Vermont/Adams market was all about green and orange. Most stands were awash in either various lettuces, collards, bok choy, cilantro, parsley and other big bunches of leafy greens or piles of oranges. There was a honey guy and an egg gal, and one prepared food stand selling icees and popcorn. Most sellers and customers were Hispanic, and my pathetic Spanish got me the location of most of the farms (predominately Riverside, east of LA, within my 100 mile radius) but not much more than that. One guy had some bunches of what I call snakegrass, he called horsetails. I asked about it and he said people make tea out of it to help with their kidneys.

I picked up squash blossoms, basil, carrots and some large, finger shaped radishes. Squash blossoms were new to me--they smell delightfully squashy and worked well in an egg scramble with fresh basil and chives. I cooked 'em up whole, but first removed the stems and stamen. Mine were also alive with teeny, tiny bugs, so be sure to wash them carefully as well.

Vermont/Adams Farmers' Market
Wednesdays, Sept-May 2 pm-5 pm, June-Aug 1 pm-6 pm
1432 W. Adams, St. Agnes Catholic Church
Just west of Vermont/Adams, on the south side of the street

Going Local: Risi i Bisi, a few days late

Note: This post is part of an ongoing report on my efforts to eat locally for the month of May. You can read about my goals, exceptions and guidelines here.


In late April, Venetians celebrate Saint Mark's Day by highlighting the first of the spring peas in a risotto-esque soup, Risi i Bisi. I know this not because I keep track of major Catholic holidays but because about this time last spring, Nigella Lawson told me so in her column in the New York Times. Since then, I've made the soup numerous times, both with fresh and frozen peas. What I'd never done, however, was use the fresh pea pods to make the stock for the soup, a recommendation from Nigella in the version of this recipe in her cookbook, Forever Summer.

Straining the pea pods after they'd cooked down and been thru the food processor.

This additional step meant the recipe was perfect for eating local--no worries about the provenence of canned stock, and all the veggies are in season at the farmer's market (I had the arborio rice in my cupboard already). Plus, you actually use all parts of the vegetable, and I do hate to see those beautiful pods unceremoniously dumped in the trash.

So, here's to San Marco--and a city that celebrates its saints with local food!

Risi i Bisi
slightly adapted from Nigella Lawson's Forever Summer

2 lbs shelled fresh peas, pods reserved
7 c. water
1 stalk celery
1 bay leaf
butter
1 small onion, diced (I actually subbed 1 shallot and two pearl onions)
1 c. arborio rice
handful of mint, chopped
salt and pepper

In a large stockpot, bring water, pea pods, celery and bay leaf to a boil, then turn down to a simmer. Season with salt and pepper and cook for approximately 1 hour, until pods are soft. Strain liquid into metal bowl, and run the pods thru a food mill. If you don't have a food mill, do what I did: put them in your food processor and then strain through a metal strainer into bowl of stock. Even though it's a pain, you'll want to strain so you don't end up with stringy bits in your soup.

In a large sauce pan, saute onions in butter until translucent and starting to brown. Toss in your shelled peas and stir, then add rice and stir until everything's slicked with butter. Pour all of your stock in at once, bring to a boil, then turn down and cover. Cook for 15 minutes, taste for seasoning. Mix in handful of chopped fresh mint, and serve.

Erin's Kitchen Index: Soups and salads; Easy Weeknight Meals

Going Local, Day 1: Well Prepped

Note: This post is part of an ongoing report on my efforts to eat locally for the month of May. You can read about my goals, exceptions and guidelines here.

Pasta dough ingredients, pre-mixing. The eggs and herbs are local.

When I was a kid, my parents always made me get everything ready for school the night before--pack my lunch, organize my backpack, lay out my clothes. I still (mostly) adhere to this method, and have decided to use it as my guiding principle for eating locally as well--getting ready on the weekends for a week of meals. One of my biggest concerns joining the Eat Local Challenge was time--I work relatively long and sometimes unpredictable hours, and I didn't want to fall off the wagon some night at 10 p.m., scarfing tacos from the stand down the street.

So--be prepared. First, I needed the local ingredients of course, so a trip to the Hollywood Farmers' Market was in order. I discovered a new-to-me stand, Mitchell Herbs and Specialty Produce, out of Redlands, CA, about 70 miles east of Los Angeles. Doug Powell farms 2 1/2 acres originally purchased by his in-laws and specializes in onions, garlic, lettuce, carrots, beets, fava beans and blackberries. He sells only at farmers' markets and to Farm Artisan Restaurant in Redlands. (You can read more about his farm here, though registration is required.) I picked up shallots, pearl onions, spring onions and yellow onions at his stand.

After the shopping ended, I spent the rest of the weekend baking bread, kneading pasta dough and sauteeing tomatos and onions. Some of each ended up in the freezer, some in the fridge, and tonight, some in my belly. J and I ate a late dinner of marjoram-flecked tagliatelle tossed with a simple tomato sauce. All we had to do when we came home was roll out the pasta dough, a fun and easy task, cook the noodles, and warm the sauce.

My basic tomato sauce recipe is easy to make in bulk, can be dressed up in myriad ways, works well with pasta, and makes a great pizza sauce if you run it through your food processor. Usually at the farmers' market you can find bins of cheapo tomatos marked "good for sauces and salsa" which means they're a bit soft and kinda ugly, but taste just fine.

Basic Tomato Sauce

fresh tomatos, seeded and chopped
1 yellow onion for every 2 lbs. tomatos, finely diced
3 cloves garlic for every 2 lbs. tomatos, finely diced or pressed
bouquet garni of fresh marjoram, basil and thyme
olive oil
salt and pepper

Saute your onions in some olive oil over medium heat, until they are uniformly soft and starting to brown. Add garlic, let sizzle a minute or two. Then add your tomatos and your bouquet garni. Season with salt and pepper. Bring to a boil, then turn down to a simmer. Depending on how thick you like your sauce, how finely you chopped your tomatos, and/or how big a batch you're making, simmer over low heat for at least 1/2 hour and up to 2 hours.

Erin's Kitchen Index: Pasta, Rice and Eggs