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