food, and other musings

Cooking for Hurricane Katrina

Several weeks back I got to thinking: what more could I be doing for the survivors of Hurricane Katrina? Left homeless, jobless, penniless -- hopeless, even -- these sad souls were displaced to a new and unfamiliar town, separated from loved ones either by distance or, in the worst cases, death, and forced to depend on the kindness of others.

So what did I do? I threw a party.

But before you slam shut your laptop or click away in disgust, know that it was a benefit party. I invited a few friends over to the apartment and promised them some booze and homemade nibbles in exchange for a minimum $25 per person donation to the American Red Cross. It was a cozy soirée, but just the few people who dropped by raised more than $600 for charity, and enjoyed food and conversation while doing it. My thanks to everyone who came over and reached into their pockets to help people they've never met. I feel blessed to know you.

If you feel like throwing your very own Hurricane Katrina (or Rita) benefit, here's a partial list of what I served along with a few recipes.

Old-fashioneds
Yield: 5-6 cocktails

I selected this as the cocktail du soir because its main ingredient, bourbon, is historically near and dear to those in N'Awlins. In a pitcher, mix 10 ounces of bourbon with a liter of club soda, 3 TBSP of sugar syrup (or to taste) and 8-10 good dashes of bitters (or to taste). In an old-fashioned glass, clatter in a handful of ice cubes, toss in a maraschino cherry hanging from a stem and pour in the drink.

Bacon-wrapped Dates
Yield: 24 bites

Little Sister provided this recipe. Buy a box of pitted dates and a slab of bacon. Soak toothpicks in cold water. Cut each bacon strip in two and wrap one half slice of bacon around each date, securing with a toothpick. Bake at 375 until bacon is cooked, about 15 minutes. Serve hot.

Artichoke Dip
Yield: 40-ish bites

An old favorite. So easy it's shameful, so don't share the recipe! In a small baking dish, mix 2 14-oz cans of artichoke hearts in water (drained and torn into bite-size pieces) with 3/4 cup mayonnaise, 1 cup shredded mozzarella cheese, 1/4 cup grated parmesan cheese and enough crushed red pepper to suit your tastes. Bake at 350 for 30 minutes. Serve hot with tortilla chips, bread sticks or French bread (never, ever sourdough).

Rosemary Walnuts
Yield: 2 cups

This was a Laurie Colwin favorite. Melt 2 1/2 TBSP unsalted butter in a jelly-roll pan or roasting pan (with sides) in a 350 oven. Stir in 2 tsp dried, chopped rosemary, 1 tsp salt and 1/2 tsp cayenne pepper. Toss 2 cups walnuts until well coated with the spices and spread out into one layer. Bake at 350 for 10 minutes.

The intriguing cookies you see on the bottom right hand of the tray are klecha, traditional Iraqi cookies filled with dates, walnuts, cinnamon and cardamom that are served at celebratory feasts. Look for a recipe from me, based on the one chef Yahya Salih of YaYa Cuisine uses, come holiday time.

Recipe: Chicken and Shrimp in a Tomato Cream Sauce

Seared, juicy chicken; sweet shrimp; the lighter side of a tomato cream sauce -- all rolled into one glorious bite, along with a bit of rice and a sprinkling of chives. Yum.

Mr. Food Musings and I loved it, but I have to say -- get out the yellow rubber gloves and man the sink -- it dirties pots and pans aplenty. By my count, 3 pans, 1 food processor, 2 cutting boards (separation of meat and veg for the safety conscious), 2 knives, 1 rubber spatula, 1 wooden spoon and a pair of tongs. Whew!

Just goes to show that Gourmet's promise of a quick 30 minute dinner does not get in the way of them mucking up all your dishes. It was good but it's probably more of a having-friends-over-for-dinner dish than it is a  just-got-home-from-work and hurrying-to-catch-the-latest-episode-of-Lost candidate...

Meme, meme, bo-beme, banana-fana-fo-feme...

Yes, folks, there is another meme infecting the food blogosphere. Joy at Confessions of a Restaurant Whore tagged me with it this week, the slut (hey, a spade is a spade). Even though I might sound annoyed about it, I'm not. See, it's an easy out for an uninspired lass such as myself. Nothing to write about? Do that meme!

The assignment? To go back to my 23rd post (random, n'est-ce pas?) and reprint my 5th sentence. Then I have to probe it for further insight, symbolism, sweet Freudian nothings et al. Ahem.

I admit that when I read about this, I sort of panicked. It's not as though I've been a writer for sooo long and my 23rd post is sooo long ago and I've grown sooo much since I wrote it and blah blah blah. But still, I confess that a finger of fear scratched at my heart when I had to go back and read something from March.

Thankfully, it wasn't too horrible. But more than that, it is either a coincidence or the Fates are trying to tell me something, because post #23, for all you folks too lazy to go back and read it, is all about forgiveness and gentleness and grace. A good lesson for me to read today. And, in another eerie turn, that very post was all about a funny coincidence that had also led me to read about forgiveness and grace. (I know I'm starting to sound like a very bad person. I'm not. But sometimes it's nice to be reminded to be nice to your fellow humans.)

My 23rd post, not counting those that were clips I was posting or guest posts, was an addendum to a post on a delicious chocolate cake I'd made, eaten a piece of, and then packed up for Mr. Food Musings to take and feed to the office drudges at work. The 5th sentence turns out to be really lame, both in and out of context: "So it never stays in his office for too long."

So I'm picking the 4th sentence, which is a bit more entertaining: "Luckily, I'm the kind of girl who, like a dog you've just come home to, runs circles around him when he comes home and asks a million times how everyone liked it."

I guess the only insight I can offer is thus:

(1) I don't really run in circles like a dog.
(2) I do, however, surround Mr. FM when he comes home from work, empty cake plate in hand, with my hands clasped as if in prayer mode and my eyes get all wide as I ask how everyone like it (unless he says mean things like "No one liked it," which he never does, but if he did my eyes would probably narrow -- as I reached around to my back pocket for the elegant silver mini-revolver I'd put there on the chance no one liked it. Not to off myself, silly boys and girls, to off the messenger! Sheesh!)
(3) I still bake a fair bit, especially when I'm procrastinating doing any work, and I still bundle stuff off to send into Mr. FM's office. In fact, I was going to bake some cookies yesterday but since I have a cold, I figured I'd spare his office mates the disgusting Typhoid Mary-like experience.

Now that I've done the deed, I have to tag 5 people. 5 PEOPLE!!! Give me a break! But here goes...and none of them are allowed to call me bad names for it.

Robyn of Eating Asia -- because her post on wine, despite dramatic protestations to the contrary, was excellent even in the face of non wine-friendly food. Since she doesn't have a 23rd post, how about just the 3rd?

Beth of Zen Foodism -- double bingo! Yes, you again. You haven't had enough practice yet with memes. Do your 3rd post, too. And drink your milk like a good girl!

Tanvi of From the Pantry -- because I tagged her once before and she didn't hate me for it, and besides, she made some awfully good looking mint chocolate brownies the other day...

Nic of Baking Sheet -- because I just found her site and she has the most gorgeous photos AND she baked a vegan cheesecake...if she can do that, she can do anything!

Joe of Culinary in the Desert -- because he's a dog lover and a cook and who doesn't love dogs and food?

Best Reason to Move to New York City

Rumor has it that chef Laurent Gras, formerly of the Fifth Floor in San Francisco, is reputedly shopping around for restaurant space in the Big Apple. Grrr...

Recipe: Rice Salad with Toasted Walnuts and Green Beans

Let's face it -- leftover rice is a pain in the ass.  But nonetheless you always end up with some, don't you, since rice can seemingly only be made by the cups-ful. (Though some may experiment with a clever rice-to-water ratio system, I stick to the package directions. Rice is finicky. I've screwed it up enough to know I ain't the type who can improvise.) It's not good reheated because it gets dry, so what's a girl to do?

Throw it away, you suggest? You know I am genetically programmed against wasting food. And so I must thank Amanda Hesser and her recipe for rice salad. which came to me the other night through a fog of panic. I was eyeing about a cup of rice -- way too much to throw away and feel good about -- but I couldn't imagine eating it again. I stared at the trash can, then at the rice, and I swear those gummy little grains stared back. Hard. Mockingly. I could see them laughing at my plight, and in a fit of revenge, considered throwing them down the garbage disposal and laughing maniacally as their small white corpses were shredded by a viscious hunk of metal. (So I don't have a garbage disposal. Do you think the rice knows that?)

And then, just in the nick of time, I remembered Hesser's recipe for rice salad. Though Hesser set out to make hers on purpose (only the freshest for Mr. Latte) I used it to oh so satisfyingly dispense with my pesky carbohydrates. The result is a wonderful side dish that, like revenge, is best served cold.

Rice Salad with Toasted Walnuts and Green Beans
Yield: 2 as a side dish

I've modified the original recipe somewhat to use up several other leftovers in my cupboards. Feel free to experiment with nuts, herbs and vegetables. It would also be great in a southwestern incarnation, with beans and corn and tomatoes. As long as there is sufficient oil to coat the rice, and sufficient vinegar to flavor it, you're set. For lunch I serve it with red ripe tomatoes, sliced and sprinkled with salt and pepper; for a casual supper, some leftover chicken, roasted or fried, makes a meal.

1 cup leftover cooked rice
1/4 cup toasted walnuts (or pine nuts or pecans or hazelnuts)
1/3 cup steamed green beans, cooled and cut in half
1 TBSP olive oil
1 TBSP red wine vinegar
zest from 1/2 a lemon
salt and pepper to taste

In a big bowl, combine all the ingredients. Fluff with a big fork and serve either chilled or at room temperature.

IMBB # 19 + Vegan

It's time to break down and go to Café Fanny

I have my favorite cinnamon toast, and Mr. Food Musings has his:

"Whenever I take my VW to the mechanical maestros at McNevin in Berkeley, my car isn't the only thing that gets fixed up -- I get my fix too. Because right across the street from McNevin is Café Fanny. Tucked between Acme Bread and Kermit Lynch wines, Café Fanny serves the finest cinnamon raisin toast I've ever tasted. It's so good, in fact, that I kinda wish my car was a little less reliable. Thick, chewy, buttery, and served with the day's house-made preserves,  Fanny's cinnamon toast is one of my life's true pleasures. I always order it with a cup of coffee and a bowl of fruit  (berries, never melon) with Straus yogurt, and lately I've added a single, soft-boiled egg. I like to sit outside on the patio, where I can feel a bit of a breeze, while I munch my toast and read the paper, but there's also a bench inside. Of course, if you're not a maniacally single-minded cinnamon toast eater like me, Fanny's also serves exquisite pastries, including powdery
beignets, and offers a fairly complete menu that stretches from breakfast through lunch."

Café Fanny, Berkeley, 1603 San Pablo Avenue, 510-524-5447

Recipe for Whiling Away a Sunday Afternoon

Sunday Afternoon
Yield: 2

Plenty of good weather (Note: San Francisco residents may substitute any day where the dense fog parts enough to offer a glimpse of any portion of the bridge)
Pinch of spontaneity
1 free parking space near one of your favorite pizzerias
2 glasses of red wine (Hey, it's the weekend. And the French do it every damn day.)
1 thin-crust pizza with housemade fennel sausage, thin slivers of sweet red onion, red pepper, and mozzarella (no longer stretched by hand but that's okay)
1 pizza of the day featuring oven-roasted heirloom tomatoes and basil
1 table outside on the patio where you can people-watch
1 cute boyfriend with mussed hair and grizzled, two day old beard
1 Wall Street Journal article about new food trends and restaurant openings
1 book by notable food writer
2 cannoli to go (See? Being full is no excuse! Stuffed with Bellwether Farms ricotta cheese, pistachios and a hint of orange zest)

Mix together and enjoy. Repeat as often as you can. Makes great Monday lunchtime leftovers.

Does My Blog Look Good in This?

Check out Alice's work over at My Epicurean Debauchery. She's hosting this month's "Does My Blog Look Good in This?", a regular judging of food porn -- that means photos, folks -- from the food blogosphere. I entered my nectarine and blueberry crostata which was umm, umm, good. Check out her posts from all week long and then see how the judges rule. (Hmm, whom to bribe? And with what?)

Thomas Keller, Charles Phan and Me

I picked up my cell phone to hear my friend S. saying, "Thomas Keller is going to dinner with us tonight!" She's a long-time journalist and professional food writer, but even in her practiced voice I detected a hint of excitement. My response? A giddy shriek. (To myself, bien sur; I was at work and besides, a girl has her reputation to think of. Impressed by mere mortals? I'd never let on.) "I think Charles Phan will be there too," she added.

Wow. Thomas Keller, Charles Phan and me. All in one room, having dinner together. What could be the occasion, you ask?

Okay. You heard it here first. Chefs Keller and Phan are collaborating on a cookbook. That's not all -- they've asked me to write it! Yes, it's true! I cannot wait! Trips to New York, stuffing down course after course of pristine fish and sauces strained so many times they're 99.999% pure, and visits to the Slanted Door, forking up shaking beef and garlicky roasted Dungeness crab. (sigh)

Surprised? Yeah, you should be. Because that was a lie. (A girl can dream, n'est-ce pas?) The real reason we were having dinner together was because we were taking part in the Association of Food Journalists' annual conference. I was lucky enough to be S.'s guest for the evening functions (lectures were strictly members only).

The night before, primarily newspaper journalists from all across the country gathered in a big white tent in the courtyard of the Ritz to nosh on treats from ten of the city's hippest restaurants, as determined by our hosts, the San Francisco Chronicle.  Some of the nibbles were only so-so, despite being from chefs whose cooking has otherwise transported me to a place of holy delight (Ron Siegel's uni panna cotta, Michael Tusk's chickpea ravioli with calamari) but many were downright delectable (Michael Mina's bite-sized lobster corn dogs, James Ormsby's beef carpaccio spring rolls, Mitchell and Steven Rosenthal's ham and eggs on toast and butterscotch chocolate pudding).

On the second night, Yank Sing threw a 10-course traditional Chinese banquet. I am not the squeamish sort, but neither am I overly experimental. I'll happily munch on sweetbreads, but I draw the line at brains. After one look at the menu, I foresaw a few challenges (duck tongue, anyone?). Moreover, I displayed an embarassing lack of agility throughout the evening when it came to handling my chopsticks. But with Charles Phan on one side, kindly giving me lessons (and just giving up and plopping the food on my plate when I was really flustered) while regaling me with tales of his favorite tea plantations, and S. on the other side, clueing me in to the sometimes unrecognizable food in front of me, I made my way through. Some dishes were delicious, others too odd for my taste. (For a twist on the American-sticking-her-tongue-out-at-duck-tongue scenario, check out Fuschia Dunlop's article in the August issue of Gourmet magazine about Chinese chefs dining at The French Laundry.)

We started with an Imperial Walnut Salad. Crunchy cabbage and jicama played off the sweet honey-glazed walnuts and left me wanting more, but too shy to give the Lazy Susan a good push. I admit that I didn't find anything to love on the Six Happiness Cold Plate: the pig ears were a beautiful millefeuille of purple meat and white streaks (fat? cartilage? who knows?) but I preferred gazing at their concentric stripes to eating them -- cold, chewy, and crunchy is a good combination in a chilled Butterfinger but not in a meat. I ignored the little duck tongues -- largely because they looked just like little duck tongues -- and the jellyfish salad. The duck gizzard was all right, but I kept thinking to myself, "You're eating a gizzard." And that sort of ruined it for me. I loved the snowpea shoots sautéed in garlic -- bright greens, pungent garlic, simple tastes -- and the Kurobuta pork-filled Shanghai dumplings, which are on Yank Sing's regular dim sum menu.

In the end, the food was but a backdrop to a fantastic evening, seeing food world luminaries like Keller and Phan up close, putting faces to people whose work I've read (Kim Severson, Michael Bauer, Mimi Sheraton) and talking to people who have been making a living by writing about food for years and years. And if I didn't get that cookbook deal out if it, well, there's always next year.

It's Here!!!

On the inside flap of the much awaited book Julie & Julia. 365 days, 524 recipes, 1 tiny apartment kitchen: How One Girl Risked Her Marriage, Her Job, and Her Sanity to Master the Art of Living it reads:

"On a visit to her childhood home in Texas, Julie Powell pulls her mother's battered copy of Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking off the bookshelf. And the book calls out to her."

A frisson ran through my body when I read that. I have been looking forward to reading this book for ages. It started as a blog and chronicles a year spent making every damn recipe in Mastering the Art of French Cooking. Every one, in a year's time. That means tracking down obscure ingredients (sweetbreads, calves brains) and navigating unknown culinary techniques in search of...well, in search of what? That's what I've been dying to find out.

But back to my frisson: I had not planned on going into the bookstore today, but as I walked back home from an errand far too frivolous to mention here, something -- Something -- called to me and unexpectedly, whimsically (or so it seemed...) ushered me into the store. Was it Fate? (And was it Fate who also called to me yesterday, and the day before, and Saturday and several times last week? Of course it was. Fate and I regularly connect in the bookstore. Hey, it's better than a sleazy bar.)

Anyway, the book is here. I advise all of you to run out and buy it, even those among you who don't know what a sauce béarnaise is or who hate hardbacks because they're heavy and the cover always slips off and falls down behind the bed and gives you a crick in your back as you crane your neck and left arm to reach back for it (or maybe that's just me?). Without having read it, I have Faith that it's gonna be good. How could anything with a first chapter entitled "The Road to Hell is Paved with Leeks and Potatoes" not be?